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garoumylove · 2 years

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Golden Hour Part 3

This is Part 3 of my new slow burn GarouxReader :) you can also read it here on AO3! ♥️♥️ (It's told from his pov!)

~*~

Some of the things she said, they sound like empty platitudes, I think as I try not to get too used to the hot water but damn it feels fucking good.

Two minutes, I remind myself. Two minutes.

'You have so much potential' and all that bs I've heard so many fucking times before. Teachers, that old man…But they never mean it. It's just one of those things they're taught to say to a kid to get them to shut up, to believe in themselves but it ain’t nothing but false hope.

Potential in what? You notice how vague those words are? Empty compliments so the pathetic kid won't feel so fucking bad.

I would know.

Two minutes.

But then, she never said 'you have potential'. She said I had things going for me. Well, that ain't a lie. I've picked up a thing or two over the years and I can feel that cocky pride creeping up on my face again. I can't help it.

You could say I'm really a Cinderella story, if instead of a ball Cinderella went underground and beat the shit out of everyone who made her life hell when everyone least expected it. Or somethin' like that.

But then this little voice in the back of my mind says, and then what?

But two minutes are almost up.

What do you mean, and then what?

That's the goal, ain't it? To get to the top and show everyone… To become the greatest threat so no one fucking even dares to think about looking in my direction. About making some miserable kid’s life a living hell just because he doesn’t know how to throw a punch.

There's a lot of injustice in this world.

She said she didn't know what was in that head of mine…But there it is. I'm trying to even out the balance of power, see. Because if the underdog doesn't rise up, these people will forget, will think they can walk all over everyone. Someone's gotta put them in their place.

Shit, two minutes.

I turn the water off, reluctantly I gotta say.

And then what?

Ah, shut the fuck up.

I had thought no one understood me. Call it arrogance but that's what I'd been shown again and again. No one understood why the fuck I did what I did. Even back then, even when I wasn't starting it, just a stupid weak kid trying to stand up for himself. But somehow it always backfired. I was always the one in trouble. So many words tossed around: troublemaker, delinquent, aggressive tendencies, defiance, I think I even heard 'unhinged' once. They thought I'd hear these things and cower, frightened to be thought of as this terrible thing. But it just added welcome fuel to the fire. The more they called me a monster the more I wanted to become one and show them all.

I have to admit, it may have gotten a little out of hand at some point, when they called that old man in since there was no one else to call and explained the situation to him. That I'd no longer be welcome at school. They even took out a trespass notice against me. And I took that personally and with pride.

But then she'd gone and looked down on it all, on everything I was doing, reduced it all to school yard scraps. And it felt like a slap in the face. What would she know anyway? But the way she said it, not making a mockery of me, but as if she was explaining some reality I hadn't thought of. And for a moment I wanted to be in the grown up world there with her. Where this bullshit didn't matter. Just for a moment. And least of all, I never thought I'd actually make it here, into her bedroom…

I push all that goddamn thinking away, pulling these clothes back on, also reluctantly. Half-heartedly still hoping she’ll join me in here, but no such fucking luck.

“Just put it on the floor there,” she says, looking up at me from the couch she’s curled up on as I stand in the hallway, towel in hand. What, on the floor right there?

“Yeah, just chuck it on the floor,” she says to my confused expression, wiggling her spoon at me to indicate it’s fine.

Feels kinda…impolite but I’ll do as I’m told here.

“Come,” she says, waving the teaspoon towards herself now and then pointing to the small colourful bowl she’s got set out on the coffee table, just like the one she’s holding. “Or are you telling me you’re so bad ass you don’t like ice cream?”

Fuck no. I fucking love ice cream! But…

The whole point was to get away quickly and now…

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head.

Alright, fine. If she’s gone to all that trouble.

This couch is a lot more comfortable than the piece of shit thing I got back home. I sit as far away from her as possible, but this thing ain’t that wide and that distance, it’s almost nothing.

She’s too engrossed in the thing she’s got going on the TV. I catch a glance of her pulling the little spoon out of her mouth slowly, give it one last lick, the tip of her tongue gliding along its back, before dipping it back into her bowl.

Fuck. Now I’m imagining that tongue of hers somewhere else.

“What?” she says, pausing and turning to me.

“Nothin’,” I say, clearing my throat again.

“You’re finished already?” She leans over a bit and checks. “See, and you said you didn’t want any,” she smiles triumphantly.

“I never said that,” I say, not happy when something untrue is attributed to me.

“Sorry,” she laughs. “Here,” she shoves her half-finished bowl at me, the spoon still in it, looking away, uninterested in my response.

Fine then.

She starts talking, telling me about the thing she’s watching.

“I started this show a couple of nights ago. It’s really good. I don’t usually watch stuff like this but you see this guy…” and she goes on telling me about the intricacies of this drama but all I can concentrate on is this spoon that’s just been in her mouth. I feel it against my tongue, try to catch a hint, a sliver of the taste of her mouth on it, under all this ice cream.

The taste of her mouth, her tongue…I’ve tasted every bit of her and it’s still never enough. I’ve run my tongue all over her, just like I was doing half an hour ago, and I’d do it again if it wasn’t for my mind beginning to shut down, the sleep overtaking me…

“Wait, one more episode!” she says as the credits roll and she clicks the remote as I start to get up. “Can’t leave on a cliffhanger!”

I sit back down and pretend I’m following whatever is going on. It’s the least I can do after being fed so well.

I stare at the screen but nowhere near as enraptured as her. I stare at the screen but my mind is elsewhere. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Warm and clean and well-fed. In an actual home. Not my home, clearly. But a home. A place someone actually cares about. This is just a normal evening for most people, I suppose. And maybe if I stopped being such a hippy, like she says, and got a job, I could sit just like this in my own damn house.

No. It still wouldn’t be the same because she wouldn’t be there. I could have all the central heating and fancy dinners but it wouldn’t be the same. I could have all the Coke too. That cheers me up.

But no, even with all the Coke, it still wouldn’t be the same.

This feeling…This tightness in my chest again despite the warmth and the comfortable couch.

I close my eyes for a moment.

When I open them again I’m alone and surrounded by a quiet darkness. I blink once or twice, feeling somewhat disoriented for a moment. I remember where I am. The couch is just as goddamn comfortable as before and I’m covered by some sort of fluffy blanket or something of the like.

Well, that’s fucking embarassing. What time is it? Ah fuck, it doesn’t matter. It’s time to leave, that’s what.

I get up, being my quietest, and make my way to the front door. She’s got that chain latch thing and another lock and by the time I’ve slowly got everything undone, avoiding the noise of metal on metal as much possible, she’s standing halfway down the stairs.

“Are you going?” she says, covering a yawn.

I turn to look up at her, standing there in the moonlit shadows, wearing some sort of robe as it slips off one of her gorgeous bare shoulders and she pulls it back up without thinking. It just makes me wonder what, if anything, she’s got on underneath.

No, fuck. Down boy.

“Yeah,” I say, hand on the doorhandle.

“Ok,” she says, completely unbothered. “Good night,” another little yawn. “Come by again if you want.”

If? Is she playing with me? There is no if to my want. But that doesn’t matter.

She comes all the way downstairs. It takes me a moment to realise it’s not for me, it’s to lock the door behind me. I don’t know if she realises how close she’s standing to me, her warm smell, intoxicating and inviting begins to fill my head. I open the door quickly before I get ahead of myself and she leans her hand on it, the robe slipping off her shoulder again. She’s so fucking close. Just a few inches and I’d taste her skin, fight an overwhelming desire to kiss her bare shoulder, more if she’d let me.

“See you Wolf Cub,” she smiles through sleepy eyes as she watches me make my way out. “Remember, get a job,” she calls quietly after me into the night, joking but probably not, before closing the door, and I’m gone from her world again.

And I want to fuck.

Her, I mean. I ain’t denying it or dancing around it anymore.

I’d sell my fucking soul to fuck her right now. To go right back in there, up those stairs, get in bed with her…

And what would she do? She’d probably laugh in that kind way of hers. What the fuck would she want with me?

And then it hits me, like ice cold water in the fucking face when you least expect it. Maybe someone else already is? Fucking her, I mean. Or she him. Fuck, I don’t know. Why did this not occur to me before? Just fucking assumed it was just me and her. Got pulled into that fantasy so hard…

Who am I to her, even?

The thought sends a new kind of rage through me that I hadn’t felt before. It’s curious but infuriating at the same fuckin’ time.

Getting fucked is not that hard. Makes me think back to that shitty school. Everyone talking about nothin’ else, who is fuckin’ whom. As if there ain’t anything else on earth going on. And probably for all those assholes there wasn’t. And there was no shortage of offers.

And I know, there’d be no shortage now either. And despite being a trespasser in my own goddamn school, it wouldn’t be very hard to get what I want.

But it’s her.

Every part of me is aching to fuck her. To press her naked and wanting close to me. Feel every inch of her body against mine. To show her-

To show her what??

I don't know. But this thing in my chest…

It has to be her. I don’t know why. This tightness in my chest, it starts to burn slowly.

I don’t get it.

Is it because I saw a beautiful pair of tits in a window weeks and weeks ago?

No. That's not it. Well it is, but there's somethin’ else. Somethin’ I can't fucking describe. But then when she looks right at me. It's there. When her hands took my face…

Fuck.

Only her. Nothin’, no one else will do.

I ain’t nothing if not a tenacious bastard. And when I set my mind to something I will get it. But I remember, for the first time in a long time, being unsure. This wasn't the same. Getting what I wanted wasn't just a question of being strong or winning this time. And it puzzled and frustrated the fuck out of me. I wanted her. I wanted her to want me. And I had no idea what she thought. Sometimes I still don't. But she tells me she loves me. Every time. I don't need to know anymore. I faintly feel her fingers curl around the damp ends of my hair gently, her smiling words, quiet and soothing. "Sleep now, Wolf. Sleep a little. I love you."

I'm too preoccupied with these raging thoughts I almost notice too late my visitor coming up the street. How the fuck do these assholes find out where I live?

This ain't the first time. Some of them come back for revenge and to salvage whatever little pride they have left.

It never ends well. And with these new unwelcome ideas, I'm not in a merciful mood.

I grab the intruder by the scruff of the neck before he knows what hit him and drag him down the street, away from her house, from mine. Down to the street corner, the world around us asleep. He definitely wasn't expecting this. I don't even know who this son of a bitch is. There are too many to remember.

"Alright," I say, letting go, holding myself wide open. "Go. Get your best shot in."

I'm growing impatient. Want to get this over and done with.

He hesitates, still dazed being caught off guard like that.

"Oi, are you goin' to do this or not?" I say, trying to be nice.

He seems to liven up a bit, to remember the shame of the thrashing I must've given him the last time we met. I don't. I don't remember. I don't remember many of them any more since they go down so easy. So easy and pathetic.

"Fuck you!" He yells.

"Not so loud," I shush him, looking around. "People are sleeping. Use your quiet fuckin' voice."

This seems to rile him up even more and that's always fun.

He grunts and delivers his best punch. And I hardly feel it, still lost in my own fury.

"Very good," I say, unable to keep the derision out of my voice. "Got anythin’ else?"

He tries again, just as pathetic as the first.

"Alright, that's enough," I say. He's wasted too much of my time now. And if I didn't give him a good enough beating the first time, I make sure to do it this time so he won't be comin’ round here again and bothering me when I ain't in the mood.

I probably go a bit too hard at it. My bad. But I'm already in a fucked off mood.

I force myself to stop, this idiot crumpled down on the street corner. Luckily still breathing. Cowering for his life. I think he gets the point.

I shake out my hand, clench and unclench my fist a few times from that hard work. He's still just kneeling on the ground there.

Fuck. This is pathetic. And then the little voice again.

And then what?

So I've beat the shit out of him and then what?

And to be honest, I don't know.

I don't fucking know.

And all I can do is laugh because for a moment this whole thing seems ridiculous. What the fuck am I doing here?

There's a whole other world. A world beyond this. A world that had clearly stated it didn't want me. But then she came along and invited me back in. 'With me.'

Maybe…

I leave. It didn’t feel like there was a point to this, no matter how enjoyable it was. I walk back home up the street, this little fucker already forgotten, back to my black thoughts of her belonging to someone else.

It took a while to get past that rage. To learn she didn’t belong to anyone. And still doesn’t. I never wanted to own her. But I wanted to be the only one there, as selfish as that is. And I’ll be the first to admit it. She doesn’t belong to anyone but she’s still mine. I know that now. I can rest easy. I can sleep. But back then…

I lay in bed that night, and the night after, and probably the one after that thinking. There’s a lot to think about. She’d given me shit to think about. And there’s nothing to return so there ain’t no way to see her and I’m left to my own devices.

I stare up at the cracked ceiling. Everything mixes together. Her disdain of my ‘bad boy phase’, that little spoon, from her pretty mouth to mine, get a job, the warmth of that blanket over me, the taste of ice cream, the smell of someone else’s blood on a street corner, the view of her body, exposed to all the street but shown only to me. I remember that look she gave me. Surprise turning to mischief. She didn’t expect to see someone there, just like I hadn’t. And yet her eyes met mine and then that moment. The sound of the TV I wasn’t paying attention to. The real world, with her. The feel of hot water against my skin, relaxing my muscles. The almost inaudible Mozart (that fucker). Her hands carefully wrapping gauze around my bruised chest. Get a job. What was the point of beating that little shit down the street?

Is there a point? How many of ‘em do I have to knock around?

The more the better. The more their fear of me grows.

But what’s the point?

She doesn’t even care.

No one really does.

The world, the real world above this fucked up underground scene, goes on.

But I can’t stop. I can’t back down now.

That would be weak. And what would all that fucking trouble of the past year be for?

And fuck, they might really turn the water off. There’d been some envelopes in the mail with big bold red letters lately. I don’t know. I shove them in the trash. There ain’t ever anything good in the mail.

Get a job.

And then her body again. And again. The feel of hot water on my skin as I lift her up in the shower, her legs around my waist, hands on my face.

“Fuck me,” she says as the water runs over her mouth and I happily oblige while…

…that dream was really somethin’. Really, really somethin’. I don’t need to glance under the sheets to know. But now I gotta strip them off, and hope they haven’t turned the water off yet.

I came to no conclusions over those weeks. There ain’t now way I was giving up my ‘extra-curricular activities’. I didn’t even try. Despite that fuckin’ echo in my mind, and then what? I found I didn’t need an answer. The thrill of it kept me going back again and again. Every round, every fight a step closer to something I felt was big and fucking important. Even now, every once in a while I have to get out there. I have to head out in the middle of the night. I have to prove it to myself. But the need becomes a little smaller every once in a while. She doesn’t say anything when I come to her with a new bruise or scar. It doesn’t happen too often. We don’t talk about it. She can tell the time between these occasions grows longer. She hopes eventually I’ll grow out of it completely. I can’t promise. But I sure fucking try.

I gave no heed to her words about giving up this life. However, say what you want, but the water was a real worry. And turns out, gettin’ a job ain’t that hard in the end. Keeping it, was another matter.

#romantic troublemaker #garou #garouxreader #garou x reader #garou fanfiction #opm #opm fan fiction #x reader #reader insert #one punch man #garou one punch man #fluff and romance #fluff and angst #one punch man fanfiction

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

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Middle Seat (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

This idea was sooo cute and so much fun to write about! Thank you so much for the suggestion and your incredible patience, as this is the FINAL PROMPT I had to fill! I'm all caught up as of this fic! Thank you again, and enjoy! ^^

“Move it, nerd!” Bakugou shouted over his shoulder at Deku, who was hurrying to catch up. The bus that was going to take them to their off-campus training grounds for the day was about to leave, and they were the last two to leave the dorms. Everyone else had already boarded.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Deku panted, sprinting the last few steps to the doors, nearly bowling his friend over in the process.

Bakugou turned around and punched his arm. “Get a hold of yourself, idiot.”

“S-Sorry, Kacchan.”

Once on the bus, the two stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to find a place to sit. Most of the seats had been filled already – all but one in the back. Bakugou strode toward it and plopped himself down next to Todoroki, who had claimed the window. Deku wandered toward the back as well, hoping to find another open spot, but no such luck.

The bus started moving, making him lose his footing and nearly fall in the middle of the aisle.

Todoroki poked his head around Bakugou. “You can sit with us, Midoriya.”

“Like heck he can,” the blonde snapped. “You and I barely fit as it is.”

“Because you’re taking up so much room. Just move over.”

“I’m not getting all buddy-buddy with that loser.”

Todoroki huffed out a sigh. “Fine, then you take the window seat and I’ll sit next to him.”

Deku was about to suggest that he could just stay standing, but then he remembered this bus ride was supposed to be almost half an hour, and he didn’t want to stand up for that long. He also didn’t want to sit in the aisle. So he waited quietly while his two friends swapped places, Todoroki scooting over enough for Deku to mostly be able to share the seat.

“Thanks, Todoroki,” he murmured gratefully, offering a smile.

“Of course.”

Bakugou grunted, shoving an elbow into Todoroki’s side. “You’re squishing me, icy-hot.”

Todoroki grunted right back. “Deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me to deal with it.” The blonde grabbed onto his side with intention then, digging deep, forcing the half-and-half hero to let out a surprised squeal and jerk away from him, sending Midoirya into the aisle once more.

“Boys!” Aizawa snapped from the front of the bus. “You’d better not be fighting back there.”

“W-We’re not, Mr. Aizawa,” Deku called back. “We promise!”

“Move over,” Torodoki hissed, moving back to his previous position to allow Deku back onto the small bus seat with them. “It’s only a half an hour. Next time get onto the bus faster so you have a better seat.”

“You think I wanted to be late? This nerd is the reason I was running behind.”

“Why’s it my fault?” Deku protested.

“Guys, don’t do this now,” Todoroki grumbled, getting irritated with them both, “or this is going to be a long ride. Just try to get along, okay?”

Deku was content to do as Todoroki asked, but of course, Bakugou was not. He pinched the icy-hot’s side again. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Todoroki bit his lip to keep from squealing again, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Stop doing that. You know it tickles.”

“Yeah? Well, if it gets you to move over…” The blonde pinched him again.

Deku was nearly toppled into the aisle once more, but desperate not to fall out of his seat and incur Aizawa’s wrath, he did the only thing he could think of instead. He pinched Todoroki’s other side. “Kacchan, please just try to deal with it. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Bakugou jabbed his ribs. “And I don’t want to get flattened against the window.”

“The seat’s only so big.” Deku mirrored his friend’s actions. “We’ll just have to live with it.”

“G-Guys,” Todoroki huffed, giggling quietly into the palm of his hand. “S-Stop, that tickles!”

“Does it, now?” Bakugou smirked, seeking out his side with renewed purpose and vigor. “Guess it sucks you volunteered to sit in the middle then, huh?”

“Nohohoho!” Todoroki pleaded, giggles growing louder. He slapped his other hand over top of his first one. “Dohohohon’t!”

Deku smiled. This scene had quickly gone from frustrating to advantageous, and he was enjoying every second of it. “I’ve heard you’re really ticklish, Todoroki. Is that true?” He also drilled a bit harder now, aiming for his friend’s ribs.

Todoroki tried to fold himself over in an attempt to escape, having nowhere else he could really go. His giggling was becoming frantic. “Y-Yehehehes, it’s true! P-Plehehease don’t—”

Enjoying himself as well, Bakugou found the hollow of Todoroki’s underarm and scribbled, smirking when the half-and-half hero threw himself against the back of the seat, one hand trying to push him away while the other stayed clamped firmly over his mouth. Even so, his laughter was unmistakable.

“Wow, you really are ticklish!” Deku giggled, squeezing at his hip while aiming for his other underarm at the same time.

Todoroki was frantically stomping his feet on the floor now. “Plehehehehease dohohohohohon’t!” he cried, doing his best to keep his voice down and failing miserably. “Nohohohoho! It t-tihihihihihickles!”

“Heh. This may not be such a bad arrangement after all,” Bakugou observed, grabbing the hand that was covering Todoroki’s mouth and pulling it away, holding onto the wrist firmly. “Go on, let it out. Let the whole bus hear how ticklish you are.”

Todoroki let out a distressed whine. “No, plehehehehease, I’ll do ahahahanything! Just stohohop!”

Deku grabbed onto his other wrist and moved even further down to squeeze at his thigh, grinning all the while. Todoroki tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth desperately against the flood of laughter that threatened to burst forth. He shook his head, struggling against his captors.

“Nohohohohoho, no – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore, his hysterics unleashed in a wild screech of laughter, drawing the attention of everyone on the bus. “NO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Several of their classmates cooed at him playfully.

“Aww, he’s ticklish!” said one of the girls.

One of the guys added, “Listen to that laugh! Dude, I’ve never seen him smiling so big.”

Todoroki was flushed with embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! MEHEHEHEHERCY!! GUHUHUHUYS!!”

“Get him, guys!” someone shouted.

“Tickle him good! He’s always so serious.”

“You could take it a little easier though, maybe?”

Deku observed Todoroki carefully, worried he might be distressed about this situation. To his surprise, he found that his friend actually seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the dark red blush on his cheeks.

“Well, would you listen to that?” Bakugou teased, lifting his arm above his head. “They want more laughter!”

“Tickle, tickle,” Deku dared to tease, blushing a little himself.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Todoroki begged, shaking his head, kicking the floor. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES!! MEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!”

“Tch, whatever, icy-hot.” At last Bakugou let him be, and Deku followed his lead. “Just be thankful we can’t reach your feet like this.”

Another chorus of coos went up from their classmates, along with some scattered applause and general shouts of encouragement.

Todoroki groaned and sank down in his seat, blushing furiously but still smiling wide.

“You okay?” Deku asked him.

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” Then, with an added giggle, he covered up his face. “I’m so ticklish. It’s almost unfair.”

Bakugou scoffed. “At least you like it.”

Deku and Todoroki both looked at him. “But…don’t you like it, too?”

“Shut up!”

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priortoallthoughts · 3 years

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Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

#prior writes #star wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #afab!reader #coruscant guard #writing #fanfic

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

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

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

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

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

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

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

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

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #thomas walker #talker #james potter #lily potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #sick fic

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend

pairing: fred weasley x reader

For @vivianweasley ‘s 400 follower writing challenge!!

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, slight angst(?)

A/N: oh my god!! I loved writing this and I really really hope you guys like it too. I wasn’t quite sure on the placement of the flashback, but I didn’t really think it would work anywhere else either. Let me know what you think please? Anyways, CONGRATS on 400 followers beautiful!! I’m so so happy for you and this has been so fun to partake in. I hope you like it 💗

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @perfectlysane24 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @kaitlynw011 @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello @karushinekomiya @p0gue420 @hogwartslut @sebby-staan @thehorchatadiaries

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! (or add yourself here) Xx

“Hey beautiful!” Fred beams at you as you join him in charms.

You smile, placing a soft kiss to his lips before you take your seat, his arm resting against the back of your seat as soon as you do.

For the last week this has become your normal routine. Ever since you and your best friend, Fred Weasley, decided to date. You weren’t going to complain about it, but it certainly could be better. Especially if all of this was real.

You and Fred have been pretty good friends since about midway through your first year. You had been working in the library when he and George came running in to hide from Filch and ended up sitting at your table, stealing your books to hide behind. You suppose it’s pure luck that you liked sitting in the back of the library.

Since that day you had started talking to the twins more, but you and Fred really hit it off. You got along with George, but you and Fred were so much closer. You hated to admit it, but you actually kinda liked him a bit more than a friend should. It was easy enough to hide your true feelings, though. Well, when you didn’t have to pretend to be his girlfriend at least.

“Hey, Freddie. How’re you today, my love?” You ask, relaxing into his hold as you wait for Flitwick to arrive and begin the lesson.

It was so easy to pretend this was real. You so wished it was, but he didn’t like you anymore than a friend. You were simply doing him a favour. That’s all. Once the favour was over, you would go back to just being friends....hopefully.

He smiles, absolutely adoring the pet name you gave him. He honestly doesn’t think there’s any better sound than hearing the words ‘my love’ fall from your lips, especially when they’re directed at him. Every time you say them he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach. It’s crazy how much you fluster him without even trying.

Ever since he and George hid from filch with your help, he’s found himself intrigued with you. You two quickly became friends as you had no issue sassing and joking along with him. He couldn’t help but realize everything else about you though.

Sure you could joke around and sass him, but you were also extraordinarily kind and caring, not only to your friends, but everyone. That’s not to say that you didn’t know when to draw the line though as he’s seen you give some slytherin some major shit when you saw them picking on some random first year. He was very impressed with you that day, even maybe a little turned on.

He is totally amazed by you and that’s one of the things he loves about being your friend; he never knows quite what he’ll learn about you. He would love more than anything to learn all about you, and to date you for real, but for now this fake dating situation will have to do. Maybe he’ll eventually get the courage to ask you out for real.

“Better now that you’re here.” He replies, smiling and watching you as you roll your eyes, not able to keep a smile from gracing your lips however.

He’s positive you think he’s only saying that to keep up your guys’ act, but it’s nothing less than the truth. He’s been having a rough morning; waking up late, not being able to find his tie, and then barely getting to eat breakfast. However, seeing you has already made everything seem so much better. Even before starting to “date,” seeing you always made his days better.

“I’m glad, love. I was thinking maybe we could go to Hogsmeade later? I need some more quills and parchment.” You say, busy trying to dig out your materials for class.

You hear him chuckle beside you and you look up to meet his smile.

“What’s so funny about that?” You ask, smiling as Fred’s eyes twinkle in happiness.

He leans down and you have to remind yourself that this is all for show. You two aren’t really dating. Merlin you wish you were though.

He leans right down next to you so he can whisper and only you’ll hear him. You can’t believe that after all these years of being friends you still get butterflies whenever he’s close. Perhaps you liked him more than you thought.

“Are you asking me out on a date, y/l/n?”

You blush, shaking your head and rolling your eyes at the redhead. You should have realized he wouldn’t stop his flirtatious attitude with you even though you’re doing him a favour. Being flirty is his natural preset and you don’t think it’ll ever change.

***

You sigh as you sit in the library, stressed over your assignment for potions. You have to write an essay on the dawdle draught and you can barely get two pages worth of information. How you’re supposed to get five pages minimum, you’re not sure.

“Hey, y/n.” Fred sings, sitting down across from you as you work.

“What’re you planning now, Freddie?” You ask, barely looking up from your paper.

You knew what he was doing whenever he gave you that tone. That tone meant he had an idea and he needed your help with something. You’d only heard him use it a hundred times by now.

“What makes you say I’m planning something, huh? Maybe I just wanted to say hi.”

You roll your eyes, looking at him as you bite back a smirk.

“I’ve known you for five years, Fred. I know that tone of voice you have when you’ve got an idea and need my help with it.”

He huffs, pouting as you stare at him amused. You could read him inside and out yet somehow he was still surprised when you managed to correctly.

He watches you as you smirk slightly, shaking your head at him before going back to your paper. He smiles, not being able to help himself when you’re so freaking beautiful without trying.

“Alright, fine. You got me, y/l/n. I have an idea...and I really really do need your help with it. What do you say?” He asks, biting his lip as he smiles, leaning over the table towards you.

You look up, seeing him give you those bloody puppy eyes. He doesn’t even try to, but knows exactly how to get what he wants. You hate how easily you give in to him just by seeing his look.

“What is your idea, Fred?” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you see him light up.

“So, I may have told this girl who’s been asking me out that I already have a girlfriend.”

“But you don’t.” You deadpan, looking at him confused.

“Exactly. If she sees me going around without a girl she’s going to get suspicious.”

“So your idea is what?”

He beams, giving you a look that’s somewhere between guilty and pleading.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?” You ask, blinking in pure shock. He can’t be serious.

“Pretend to be my girlfriend. Please! Just for a month or two until she’s off my back.” He begs and you can’t help but laugh.

“No, Freddie. That’s absolutely absurd.” You scoff, shaking your head at the boy but not being able to keep the surprised, awkward smile from your face.

“What is so bad about this girl that you’re trying to find a pretend girlfriend?”

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, looking down at his hands.

“Well, nothing really. I’m just not interested and I can’t find a way to tell her that nicely. I-I panicked.”

You shake your head, still laughing in disbelief. Here was the Fred Weasley, known for being one of hogwart’s biggest flirts, and yet he panics when a girl he’s not interested in asks him out.

“So why did you ask me? We both know there’s plenty of other girls that would happily fill the role.”

“Because I don’t want anyone else to.” He blurts out, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“I-I mean, yeah there’s other girls, but we’re already friends and it’d be so much more believable if we were to date. Fake date. I mean, we’re already comfortable with each other and everyone knows we’re close.” He rambles, a blush covering his cheeks.

You sigh, not believing what he’s spewing right now. Sure you guys are close friends and are comfortable with each other, but what makes him think you’d be able to pretend to be dating each other? Does he think that pretending to date isn’t going to awkward?

“Please, y/n. You’re the only one I trust to do this. Besides, it wouldn’t be the end of the world pretending to date me would it?” He smirks.

You scoff, rolling your eyes at your friend. He’s begging you to fake date him and yet he still pulls out his flirty lines.

“You’re unbelievable, Freddie.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Not always.” You quip to which he smiles. He loves how easy it is for the two of you to banter.

Truthfully, the reason he couldn’t say yes to the girl, was because he was too focused on you. You’ve been taking up his thoughts for nearly five years now, and it’s getting to the point where he can’t imagine being with anyone unless it’s you. Not that he plans on asking you anytime soon, he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship, but he feels wrong even thinking of dating anyone else.

That’s why he’s asking you now. He wants to date you more than anything, but he still can’t bring himself to ask you for real. However, even if it is pretend, he can’t imagine asking anyone but you.

“Two months at the very most. I promise. Please?” He begs, watching you as you think.

“Only if we decide what’s acceptable and what’s not beforehand.”

***

“Not a date, Weasley. But wouldn’t it look pretty bad if you let your girlfriend go off to town all by her lonesome?” You tease, kissing his cheek as you turn your attention back to your bag.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile playing on his lips as he sat back in his seat again.

Godrick did he love when you kissed him. Neither of you have really kissed each other, just pecks here and there. Both of you found it far too nerve wracking to even try anything more than that. Either way, the second one of your guys’ lips touched the other’s skin you both went crazy.

~.~

“Okay, y/n. It’s time to spill.” Hermione urged, her and Ginny sitting across the room from you on their respective beds looking at you expectantly.

“Spill what?”

“Your relationship with Fred! What else?” Ginny retorted.

You chuckle, blushing a bit. It’s been about a month now that you and Fred have been “dating” and none of your friends knew you two were faking it.

That was part of the agreement. To make it more believable, you couldn’t tell your friends. If you could both fool the lot of them, then certainly the girl Fred was trying to fool would believe their lie.

“What is there to spill? We’re dating, that’s all.” You blush.

“What is there to spill? ‘Mione, are you hearing her?!” Ginny gasps, rolling her eyes at you.

“There’s so much to spill, y/n! Neither of you have said anything about it. How did he ask you? Where did he ask you? Were you excited? You must have been excited!” Hermione shouts, physically shaking with excitement.

You chuckle, not quite believing how invested these two are in the relationship.

“Was she excited? Of course she was, ‘mione. She’s only liked my brother for years.” Ginny deadpans.

“Excuse me? I have not liked him for years.” You huff.

“Uh, yeah. You have. It was so obvious when you first came over to the house. I knew you two would end up together at some point.”

“Yeah? Did you bet anyone on it?”

“No. Should have though. I could’ve made some good money if I bet right.”

“Your loss.” You chuckle, laying back in your bed.

“Don’t stop talking now! Tell us about him! We wanna know everything.” Hermione giggles, stumbling off her bed as she runs over to sit next to you.

“Like what, ‘mione?” You giggle.

“What do you like most about him?”

You smile, blushing at the question. You had never really talked to anyone about your feelings for the boy. You have always denied and hidden your feelings for him.

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a lot I like about him.” You smile, hoping that answers the question. You didn’t really want to go into details, but you should’ve known these girls are not going to let that happen.

“Like what?” Ginny asks.

“Uhm, well he’s really sweet when he wants to be. He’s a pain in the ass more often than not, but he’s also really really sweet.”

“And, I don’t know, he’s obviously funny. It’s nice to be able to laugh so easily with him.” You smile, thinking about all the times he’s made you laugh while doing something dumb this past month.

The two girls smile as they watch you talk about him. They’ve never seen you look so in love.

“What else?” Hermione asks, smiling at you as you smile more and blush.

“I don’t know. He’s just...really amazing. All around. I can’t help but be happy around him no matter how bad a day I might be having. He always knows what to say when I need him to, and he gives some of the best hugs I’ve ever gotten. I think it’s just a Weasley thing to be honest, Ginny, but they’re so much better coming from him.”

The two girls squeal, drawing you out of your lovesick daze.

“What?” You ask, looking at the two confused.

“Y/n, you are so in love with Fred!” Hermione squeals, kicking her feet in excitement.

“What? No. No!”

“Yeah, you do. Have you guys said it to each other yet?” Ginny asks.

“No. No, I doubt we will for awhile.”

“How come?”

“I mean, I’m not ready to. And I doubt he’s at that point. We...like each other, but I wouldn’t say we quite love each other yet.” You explain, trying to not make them suspicious of the relationship.

You wish you could tell them about it, it would be so nice to talk to someone about your conflicting emotions, but for now you’ll have to keep them and your worries to yourself. It’s not like you haven’t already been doing that for awhile, but they we’re starting to become real heavy.

Do you two actually like each other? Of course you like him, but does he like you the same? Do you actually love him? What’s going to happen when you two “break up?” Do you even have to? Maybe you guys could just keep dating? Do you want that? Would he want that?

~.~

You sigh, feeling your stomach twist with nerves as you make your way to charms. The two months Fred promised you to were coming to a close and you were beyond nervous about what was going to happen afterwards.

You didn’t really want to stop dating him. Sure you two had been pretending these last couple months, but you had fooled yourself into thinking it was real. You didn’t want to go back to just being friends. In all honesty you weren’t sure you could.

“Hey gorgeous.” Fred greets, smiling at you the second you make your way over to him.

You smile, forcefully and honestly quite unhappily. You sit down next to him as you have every other day these last two months, but you’re more than preoccupied.

“Beautiful?” Fred asks, frowning as he looks you over. He hasn’t seen you looking this distracted in ages. He can’t imagine what has got you so down.

When you still don’t answer, he gets worried. What happened? What is on your mind?

“Y/n, love, what’s wrong?” He asks, leaning in to talk to you.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing, Freddie. I guess I’m just a bit tired this morning.” You smile, trying to reassure him.

“It’s nice to see you, my love.” You whisper, pecking his lips as you start in on your act.

He nods, frowning when you look away. Something isn’t right and he has no idea what. These last two months have been heaven. He’s been more than happy having you as his girlfriend...fake girlfriend.

It’s been so easy to pretend this is all real and he really doesn’t want it to end. He just wants to keep this going as long as it possibly can. Forget that it started out as playing pretend, because to him it never was.

He sighs, watching as you sit beside him, completely lost in your thoughts as you chew on your bottom lip.

~.~

Fred sighs as it’s gotten to be dinner and you’re still lost in your thoughts. You look upset, but every time he tries to bring it up, you brush it aside and put on a show.

It’s driving him mad. Throughout the entire two months your fake relationship has never felt this fake. He wants to know what’s wrong but you’re not opening up, which is something you’ve never done.

“Y/n? Can we talk after dinner, please?”

You look up as Fred leans over to you to ask you that. Your heart starts racing as you can only imagine what he wants to talk about. He’s probably going to ask how you want to go about this breakup.

Your heart aches but you find yourself nodding at the redhead.

“Yeah. Sure, Freddie.”

He nods, smiling at you slightly as you nod back, turning your attention back to your plate of food.

After the two of you are done eating and you’ve talked with your friends for a few minutes, Fred motions for you to join him as he leaves.

“Alright, I’ll see you later, loves.” You smile at hermione and Ginny as you stand, grabbing a hold of Fred’s hand.

“Yeah, see you later. Make sure to tell him!” Ginny whisper yells, but very poorly.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head at the girl but not able to stop the blush that covers your cheeks.

The two of you make it up to the common room where you sit on the couch as no one else is in the area.

You sigh, watching Fred as he sits with his head in his lap, his hands running through his hair. He seems stressed and you wonder why. Surely he can’t be stressed about the breakup. Can he?

“What’s bothering you today, y/n? You’ve been distant and upset all day.”

“Nothing I can’t handle. I’m just being stupid.” You smile, albeit a bit sadly.

“That’s not what I’m asking. Please tell me what’s been on your mind?”

“I-well, I-it’s really dumb, Freddie. It won’t matter in a week or two anyway. I’m just being overdramatic.” You sigh.

“Princess, you do know you can tell me anything right? We are still best friends.”

You sigh, your heart breaking at the title. You didn’t want to be best friends anymore. You wanted to be his girlfriend whether you realized it before this or not. You honestly weren’t sure how you were suppose to pretend you hadn’t fallen completely in love with this redhead you’d been friends with for years.

“That’s the problem...” you mumble.

“What’s the problem? That we’re best friends?”

He really hopes he misheard you. He can’t lose you as a best friend after all of this. He can deal with not getting to call you his, but he can’t deal with not having you in his life at all.

“Freddie, I don’t wanna be best friends with you anymore.” You sigh, your stomach doing somersaults.

“What are you talking about, love?”

You close your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay as you take a minute to compose yourself. You’ve already started talking so you can’t really back out now, but it felt like you’ve run a marathon with how fast your heart was beating.

“Y/n. What are you talking about?” Fred asks, his voice shaky as he’s overcome with anxiety.

“These past two months, Fred, have been really really nice. It’s been everything I’ve dreamed of for a year or two now. I-I don’t think I can go back to just being best friends.”

“Love?”

“I know we’ve been pretending, Freddie, but it hasn’t felt like it. I can’t go back to being friends when all I want is to be yours.” You sigh, your stomach sinking when you confess your true feelings. This is for sure going to ruin the friendship, but you can’t go any longer without telling him how you feel.

“And I know you probably don’t feel the same. I mean, why would you? You’re Fred Weasley and could have any girl you wanted. Why would you want me? And I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want to break this off, Freddie, even if it is all pretend. Even if you have to pretend to love me, I’d rather keep living in that daydream than-“

Before you realize what’s happening, Fred has pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. Not just a peck, but an actual kiss.

You gasp, pulling away when it finally registers in your head.

“Freddie!”

“Shut up, love. Please. I’ve only ever wanted you and I don’t want to break this off either. No pretending or faking. I want to be with you, for real. For as long as we can stand each other.” He smiles, making you chuckle.

“Fred...”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Fred Weasley, your best friend whom you’ve been crushing on for years, likes you back. This can’t be real.

“Will you be my girlfriend, y/n? For real?”

You nod, watching as his lips curl into a wide smile, his arms pulling you right to his chest as he kisses you again.

“I love you, Freddie.”

He smiles, pecking your lips in quick succession causing you to giggle.

“I love you too, y/n. Thank you for being my fake girlfriend for two months. If I hadn’t been such a git, maybe we wouldn’t have had to pretend at all.”

You smile, feeling like you might burst. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest. You’re far too happy and the whole situation has become funny to you. If you two hadn’t been so nervous and afraid of ruining your friendship, you probably could have been together long before now.

“I never was pretending, Freddie. Everything I did, it’s because I wanted to.”

He smiles, kissing you again as you both curl up on the couch, not wanting to leave each other’s arms for quite awhile. Luckily you both had all evening as it was a Friday night and neither of you had anywhere to be.

~.~

“You two were faking your relationship?! No way!” Ginny gasps.

Now that you and Fred were together for real, you figured you should tell the truth to your other two best friends.

You couldn’t really escape it anyways when the both of them saw how much happier you were than normal at breakfast. You were by no means a morning person so they knew something had to have happened if you were wide awake and happy, on a Saturday morning no less.

“I mean, technically we were.”

“But neither of you really were, were you?” Hermione asks, smiling at you as a blush rises to your cheeks.

“No. I’d never be able to pretend. Not when I like him.”

“Aww, my girlfriend likes me. That’s nice to hear.” You hear Freddie tease as he and George join the three of you for breakfast.

You roll you eyes, smiling as he sits down next to. He pulls you into his side and places a kiss to your lips, smiling as you kiss him back.

“I love you.” You whisper, not able to stop smiling as you look at your boyfriend.

“I love you too, beautiful.” He smiles, placing another kiss to your lips before you two pull away to finally start eating breakfast.

“Sickening. Hey! Did you two know-“ George starts before ginny cuts him off.

“That they were faking?! Y/n told us this morning. I can’t believe it.”

“Right?! Here I was all happy for Fred because I thought he finally told her how he felt, but he hadn’t!”

You and Fred chuckle, watching as George, Ginny, and Hermione talk animatedly about your guy’s relationship. At least you had overwhelming support for it.

#vivianweasley400wc #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fake dating #fluff #slight angst #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp fanfic

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onbeinganangel · 3 years

Text

warmup ficlet for @the-starryknight! she picked 'i know we’re not together but i might die today so i’m going to kiss you just in case there is no later' from this wee list of kisses and asked me to drarry it up and I rubbed my hands together in glee knowing fully well i was about to put together a hell of an angst sandwich

not beta'd, not edited, just angst with a happy ending directly from my heart to yours! (cw: some canon-style mentions of blood, violence, injury and also kind of patient/healer relationship)

damned if you do it and damned if you don’t

(draco/harry, 1.8k)

Draco had pictured it so often throughout his life he sometimes couldn’t honestly believe he had made it all the way to twenty-seven.

He remembers saying it after being thrown on his arse by the family Abraxan. He’d been very little, then. Five or six, maybe. He’d cried, big fat tears running down his face, and when his Mother finally managed to pull his tiny fists down and stop him from hiding his crying behind them, he’d announced, “Maman, I am dying.” She had assured him he very much wasn’t. They’d had scones with big heaped spoonfuls of clotted cream and raspberry jam in the garden and he’d soon forgotten about his fall.

A few years later, he fell off his broom and straight into the lake. Dobby had spelled him dry to avoid him getting in trouble and he was still heaving, coughing up water and panicking when he told the Elf, “Dobby, I am dying.”

Then there was the incident at Hogwarts. He still felt the sharp talons on his skin way after the hippogriff was far, far away, as he bled, holding onto the gashes on his arm and announced to the whole class, “I am dying, it’s killed me!”

Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, it was more constant. It was the heavy burn of the Mark settling on his arm, it was the feeling of all his organs lighting up in pain and his bones breaking under Crucio after Crucio, it was the sounds of Nagini slithering outside his bedroom door at night, the sickening thud of death, the unsettling screaming, his aunt’s shrill nails-on-chalkboard voice, Greyback’s growls. A neverending chant of “I am dying, I am dying, I am dying, I am dying” inside his head.

It was confiding in a ghost, it was crying because the fear of failure was so intense he reckons he would have preferred to be dead then, it was the only person he believed was actually kind and pure and incapable of willingly inflicting pain on anyone slashing him open and leaving him for dead on a bathroom floor. Draco had looked at Snape, murmuring spell after spell over him, and he’d whispered, “I am dying.”

It was learning how to be numb, how to not feel, how to keep everyone out of his mind and away from his thoughts, it was the paralysing terror of crawling around in the shadows, the bone-deep dread of dropping leftover bread rolls on the floor by the bars on the dungeon and kicking them swiftly into the other side, where they kept his classmates. It was sneaking a blanket or two down and saying to himself, “If they find out…”

It was the persistent horror of knowing you don’t believe in what you’re doing and knowing you’re damned if you do it and damned if you don’t. Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, Draco would lie in his bed at night — his own at home, his own in the dorms, Pansy’s in the girls’ dorms when it got bad, and he would say it to himself, hoping it would become true, “I am dying.”

But he hadn’t. Despite all odds, Draco is happy. Twenty-seven. He’s got friends, a flat, a job he loves and he’s good at. He’s no longer spat at on the streets. He survived, he made amends, he managed it all. Most of all, he had managed not to die.

Until now, that is. This time he’s pretty certain he won’t be afforded such luck. He feels the curse hit him square on the chest. It’s his own fault, really, for not realising there was someone already in the room he entered. He’d been too busy throwing a rather flourished Incarcerous across the room at the two potions dealers he’d been running after for the past five minutes to notice the third man.

Draco is falling backwards before he has time to even think about anything, his wand clanking noisily seconds before he joins it on the floor.

Then: “Incarcerous.” He hears it — muffled but there. And after, “Fuck, Draco.”

He’s way too familiar with the way his Auror partner works not to know it’s him when the strong arms wrap around him and pull him up. “Oh, Merlin,” he hears. His eyes flutter back open for a couple of seconds and he can tell he was right, even if it’s all blurry: red robes, orange hair, worried blue eyes.

Fear. “I am dying,” he thinks. “Harry,” he says.

“You’re gonna see Harry alright,” Ron says. “He’s gonna have words about having to heal you again,” it’s almost like a joke. Like a Ronald-typical joke. But there’s an edge of worry there. There’s panic. Ronald doesn’t panic.

And it dawns on him. Draco tries to look down but it’s all red. The burgundy of his robes, the sticky dark red of drying blood on his hands and the fresh and vivid blood still pouring out of his chest. He’s not gonna make it to St. Mungo’s, he’s never going to make it to Harry.

“I am dying,” he says, and Ron makes a noise that can only be described as half agony, half agreement.

It smells like St. Mungo’s when he wakes up thinking “I am dying.” Very faintly, he hears the same voice he always hears in his dreams. Maybe he is dead. The voice never sounds like this in his dreams, though: disembodied, frantic, quick. Draco catches half words, half sentences, half conversations that don’t make sense. A different voice is saying “just do it” and “you’re powerful enough” and “sod protocol” and “I am his partner, I brought him here.” The voice from his dreams responds with things like “unstable” and “I don’t know” and “can you please try” and a “I can’t get in touch with her” and “not without consent forms” and a louder, angry “he’s not going to d—“

Draco tries to move towards the voice.

“Draco!” Says the first voice and three pairs of feet come towards him.

“Don’t try to open your eyes, don’t try to talk, don’t try to move, okay? We have stopped the bleeding for now, but we’re still trying to reverse the curse.”

“Harry.” His Harry.

“Yes, hello. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“I am dying,” Draco croaks out.

“I won’t let you.”

Draco wants to speak. He wants to say “I am dying, I don’t want to die without telling you,” but he has no strength. His thoughts are going faster than the newest Firebolt as he hears Harry tell whoever else is in the room (Ron?) to leave. He wonders if this is it. This what they show you in the films: your life flashing before your eyes right before you die. He thinks of Harry shaking his hand after his Auror graduation ceremony. “Well done, Malfoy,” he’d said. He thinks of that first time he’d been invited over to Ron and Hermione’s, a few weeks after he became Ron’s partner, and Harry had laughed at his stories, lips wine-red and plump, eyes kind like he’d never expected. He thinks of every moment of almost in between them, every moment where Draco considered blurting it out, saying what was on his mind. The Christmas Gala as he towered over Harry and fixed the little chain on his robes for him, and that night at that dingy club for Hermione’s birthday where they’d stared at each other for forty minutes and when Draco had decided he couldn’t take it anymore, he found out that Harry had left. Or just last month when they’d gone out to buy a housewarming present for Luna and ended up eating leftovers on Harry’s sofa, exhausted from people and walking. There are too many. Too many instances of hesitation, too many “nearly-but-not-quites.”

And he’ll die and won’t ever get the chance to tell him, to kiss his handsome, stupid, precious face, and it aches — it hurts almost as much as that spot just to the left of his breastbone where the Curse had hit, where he was profusely bleeding not long ago.

“Closer,” he manages, very quietly.

Harry approaches, but not close enough, not even close enough for Draco to grab at him.

“Cl— clos—uh—closer,” he tries again.

And Harry’s right there, by his bed and he looks beautiful in his Healer robes (unheard of, really) and Draco is blinking his view into a sharper focus and listing all the things he knows he loves, the things he doesn’t want to forget: the white-ish storm of a scar that slashes through Harry’s eyebrow, the shiny (shinier than usual?) green eyes, the touch of stubble, the slightly crooked nose, the lips — oh, the lips, plump and sweet looking and Draco will never get to find out just how sweet. And then, he has to do it. Because if he’s going to die anyway, he may as well use his last breath on this.

He pushes himself off the pillow slightly and his hand pulls Harry’s green robes closer until their lips meet, clumsily and hard — Harry not expecting it, Draco waning from the efforts of pulling Harry closer, but Draco will die knowing he’s kissed Harry. And if there’s no later, at least he’s done it. At least Harry knows.

“Stop. You’ll hurt yourself,” Harry says, and pushes him back down. Gently, like everything he does.

“But—“

“I know, darling. Me too.”

Darling? Harry… too?

“I’m going to heal you, okay? I’m going to heal you and we’ll do that again. I’ll take you to dinner, or brunch, I know you like brunch. Or just coffee. We’ll go to the pictures. I’ll hold your hand. We’ll go flying. We’ll go clubbing and I’ll dance with you, I promise I will, and I’ll let you tell me how bad I am. I’ll find you a copy of that book you were talking about with Hermione, no matter how much it costs. I’ll throw my name around if I have to, okay? And we’re going to do that again, properly. When I’m not your healer and you’re not hurting. I’m going to heal you now, you just—“ he stops, then, breathing wild and panicked.

Then, a small sob. A kiss to his forehead. Draco doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

“You just hold on, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

And Draco would cry if he had the strength, he would say yes to all those plans and more, but he focuses on the feeling of Harry’s magic sinking into his body like and he holds on, just like he was told to. He holds on, even if he doesn’t know exactly to what. And he thinks maybe he’ll get lucky again, and he’ll stop picturing himself dead like he’s been doing his whole life. Harry’s magic feels like love, like poetry, like cascading words of affection whispered into the space between his ribs, it feels like hope. And Draco holds on and thinks to himself, as loud as a thought can go, “I am not dying.”

#i may actual edit this and pop it on ao3?#i kind of like it?#thank you starry baby for this delicious prompt #warmup ficlets #drarry #m writes #angst with a happy ending #cw blood #cw injury #cw violence

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heliads · 3 years

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One Moves On Chapter Four: Crow Rock

Stiles Stilinski doesn’t know what to think when he’s taken by the Ghost Riders. He’s grateful to be joined by Y/N L/N, although when he finally escapes, no one seems to remember her at all.

previous / series masterlist / next

Now that he’s finished his research, Stiles isn’t sure what to do next. Does he drive over in a fit of glory and bad decision making, hope to find Y/N and pray she hasn’t left before he gets there? Does he risk traveling without a pack to one of the areas with the most supernatural activity other than Beacon Hills?

In the end, Stiles decides to just go. Deliberating and hesitating won’t do him any good, not when Y/N is still out there, weaponless and with no idea where she is. Stiles spends a haphazard half hour running about his house, trying to put together supplies he might need for the trip, before finally stumbling over to his Jeep.

When he finally makes it out, keys clutched in his hand, Scott is waiting for him.

His best friend is leaning up against the driver’s side door, arms folded across his chest. Stiles’ steps falter. “You knew I was going?” Scott lifts a shoulder. “Your dad called me, said he was worried. We knew you’ve been concerned about Y/N, but we didn’t know that you would go this far. Where are you going, Stiles?”

Stiles holds up a hastily printed map. “Actually, I’m going to a town called Crow Rock. Good supernatural activity, and I followed the law of triangles-” Stiles’ voice dies off as he takes in the look on Scott’s face. “The law of triangles, which is a very reputable law from a very reputable manuscript which we all know about. Right. Well, I know how it sounds but trust me, it’s going to be alright.”

Scott sighs. “I want to believe you. Honestly, I do. But Y/N died months ago. You have to know that. I didn’t even know you cared this much about her. I’d call it grief, but you watched her die some time ago. She’s already buried.” Stiles frowns at him. “Is she? Where?” Scott fumbles for a moment. “Uh, in some cemetery.” Stiles presses his advantage. “Which cemetery? If we saw her buried, where is she?”

Scott’s brow furrows, and he stares at Stiles in bewilderment. “I can’t remember. I know where Allison and Aiden and all the others are buried, but I don’t know where she is.” Stiles throws his hands in the air. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t know because she isn’t dead. We never buried her so of course we can’t remember the cemetery. Scott, you have to believe me. She’s out there somewhere and I have to bring her back.”

Scott’s face softens. “You’re sure this will work? You know where to find her?” Stiles nods fervently. “I’ve done my research. Sometimes, people are pulled away from rifts by something called etheria. I was able to make it back safely from the Wild Hunt, but she wouldn’t. She’s not the first either- these victims, they call them etherials or something, have been disappearing for centuries. I’ve managed to track down another hotspot where she might be located and I think it’s my best shot at finding her.”

Scott nods once, then claps him on the shoulder. “I think you can do it.” Stiles looks up at him. “Really?” Scott smiles trustingly. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve put in a considerable amount of time for research. I think if anyone could track down an etherial who everyone else thinks is dead, it would be you.” Stiles grins. For some reason, hearing his best friend’s belief in him is enough to give Stiles a boost in confidence.

Scott steps away from the door of the Jeep, allowing Stiles access at last. “I just wanted to check with you before you go. To make sure you knew what you were doing.” He glances at the map, taking in the location of the hotspot. “There’s going to be a lot of supernatural trouble there. You sure you don’t want a backup group?” Stiles shakes his head, smiling. “I’m good, thank you. I think this is something I have to do by myself.”

Stiles climbs into the Jeep, giving himself a moment to think. This is it, the last moment before he sets off on his journey. He’s spent so much time preparing that it’s strange to think that this is his stepping off point, the last opportunity he has to back down and say that this is too dangerous, or that the chances are too great that he will fail.

Stiles turns on the ignition in a roar. Scott waves goodbye as the Jeep disappears down the road.

Stiles has only been driving for an hour or so before he notices a shift in the air. It’s not much, barely there, but yet something is not right. It’s like the atmosphere of the car has become quieter, even more silent than before. No one has entered or left the vehicle to warrant this silence, but it’s still enough to make Stiles feel slightly uneasy. He’d felt it a little when he was crossing over the boundary to Beacon Hills, a slight change in the energy as if by leaving he was passing through a barrier of some sort.

Stiles supposes it makes sense- you leave a hotspot, you might notice some change. Stiles doubts he would have noticed it had he not just been taken by the Wild Hunt or even gone without his temporary possession by the Nogitsune. He has a feeling that sensing this change in supernatural activity is an ability usually attributed to the supernatural, and the fact that he, a supposedly ordinary human, can sense it sets Stiles’ teeth on edge.

Stiles becomes aware of another change about fifteen minutes later. He sits up straighter in his seat, trying and failing to figure out what exactly is filling him with unease, and then he sees the sign. It’s faded, paint crumbling off of a metal backing. Even with the weathering of the sign, Stiles can still read the derelict letters: Welcome to Crow Rock. Stiles has made it at last.

The Jeep rumbles on, past the sign and onto the twisting roads. Scott, Lydia, and Malia had told him about visiting Canaan while he was still in the thrall of the Wild Hunt, and how the entire town had given off the uncanny, almost sinister energy of a ghost town. Stiles has no idea what it must have been like to walk those streets, but he has a suspicion that it would be pretty similar to how he feels right now, driving down the blocks and avenues in his truck.

Stiles has looked at images of Crow Rock from larger topographical maps, and realized that the town itself isn’t actually that big. He’d been happy then, thinking that maybe this was one instance of luck for himself and that it might not take as long to search the town for Y/N, but that hope is starting to wither away from him now. The town may be small, yes, with fewer hiding spots, but it also means fewer people to watch him. With fewer bystanders, the chance of supernaturals backing down from a public attack grows slimmer and slimmer with each mile Stiles travels within the town.

Stiles intended to drive to the center of town, where the hotspot of supernatural activity would most likely be the highest. However, as he goes he finds that certain roads are blocked off or congested with traffic that miraculously vanishes a few blocks down. He’s forced to take alternate routes, driving him on a convoluted path away from the entrance. It gives Stiles a sneaking suspicion that he’s being intentionally misrouted, that something is drawing him close.

Stiles has just taken a turn into a new street when he’s forced to come to an abrupt stop. A construction barricade has been laid across the road, orange and white paint signaling that he can travel no further. Stiles checks his rearview mirrors, ready to make a U-turn and get onto another road, when he freezes in place. A group of people is slowly spilling out into the road behind him, and they come to a stop at the main road, blocking off any chance of escape. They all consider Stiles with identical glares. This is not good.

Seeing as he can’t drive anywhere without mowing down this group of people, Stiles turns off the ignition and starts to climb down out of the Jeep. All of his instincts are screaming at him to stay in the car, to not give up the one piece of shelter he still has left, but it’s not like he has much of a choice. At least he’d be able to run on foot- if he remains in the Jeep, he’d just be a sitting duck.

Stiles walks away from the car, coming to a stop a few yards away from the group. One man steps forward, glaring at Stiles with an almost animal rage. “You should not have come here, human. You reek of enemy packs.” Most people would be smart and hold their tongues, choosing to live instead of delivering a supposedly witty retort. Stiles prefers to save his academic success for the tests in school.

“I think it’s kind of mean to go up to people and tell them they smell. I mean, I showered this morning, I can’t be that bad.” The man raises an eyebrow. “You are a human with a death wish, I see. It is not wise to pick a fight that you cannot win.” Stiles shrugs. “I’m just a tourist, man. I can see why your driving tours got such low reviews on Yelp.”

The man scoffs, the sound skidding deep in his throat like the roar of an engine. “I am quickly tiring of you. I will give you one minute to leave this town. If you are not gone by then, you will be dead.” Stiles shakes his head slowly. “I can’t do that. I’m here for someone.” The man roars at him, the sound echoing off of the buildings around them to culminate in a low din of noise. “Then you will die here instead.”

The man charges towards Stiles, claws already starting to extend from his fingers. Stiles takes one look at him and decides to do what he does best: run. He spins on his heels, dashing towards his Jeep with every ounce of energy still left in him. He’s almost there, one hand flung out towards the door, when a werewolf skids to a stop in front of him. It lets out a piercing howl, the sound of an animal about to attack.

Suddenly, a knife slams into its throat, and the wolf slumps sideways. Stiles’ head jerks up as he looks for his savior. A blur of flashing knives and running limbs appears out of nowhere, and a figure grabs the knife from the werewolf’s throat to throw it at another approaching wolf. Then the figure turns to Stiles, and he feels like he could dance with joy.

“Y/N?” She flashes him a grin. “Great to see you. Get in the Jeep.” Stiles doesn’t think twice, diving for the door and throwing himself in. Y/N climbs into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed just before a werewolf can slash her to ribbons. Stiles turns on the ignition, thanking everything holy and then some that the engine doesn’t fail him. He begins the turn to direct his car back towards the road, and then hesitates.

Y/N stares at him. “What are you waiting for? Do you enjoy being killed by enemy packs?” Stiles gestures towards the road. “The werewolves are blocking all the lanes!” Y/N’s eyes widen in something like incredulity. “Then run them over!” Stiles returns her startled gaze. “They’ll wreck my car!” Y/N grabs his hand, forcing it back onto the wheel. “If you stay here, they’ll wreck your car by dragging your dead body out of it and tearing it to shreds. Drive!”

A wolf howls nearby, raising his hand to slash at the metal body of the car. This is enough to motivate him, and Stiles slams a foot on the gas. The Jeep lurches forward, and the werewolves are forced to dive out of the way lest they get flattened by the wheels. The Jeep races around corners and through straightaways before they finally lose the enemy pack and the roads become deserted once more.

Stiles stares at the windshield unseeingly. His hands still shake from the close call. “You know, I don’t think I used my turn signal once during all of this.” There’s a quiet sound next to him, and for a second Stiles thinks that Y/N has started sobbing. Then he looks over and realizes that she’s doubled over in silent laughter. She manages to choke out two words. “Turn signal?”

Stiles stares at her for a second, then starts laughing too. Maybe it’s the thrill of yet another near death experience, or the rush of gratitude that he’s managed to find her at last, but all of a sudden every single thing in the world seems funny. He has to divert his attention back to the road in a jolt lest he run over a suicidal squirrel, which just makes them laugh even harder.

At last, they approach the sign announcing that they will shortly be leaving Crow Rock. Y/N’s laughter dies on her lips as she stares at the sign, then speaks abruptly. “Stop the car.” Stiles stares at her as she jumps out before the wheels have even stopped moving. He puts the car in park just a little bit beyond the sign, then leaps out after her. “What are you doing? Do you like the idea of being slashed to bits by the enemy packs?”

Y/N shakes her head, staring at him with quiet grief. “I can’t leave the town.” Stiles walks back over to her. “What are you talking about?” Y/N looks at him, and Stiles realizes that she doesn’t look afraid or even disappointed. Her face only holds a calm acceptance of a depressing fact. “I can’t leave. I’ve tried before, but the town won’t let me. Look.” She moves to step forward, past the ‘Leaving Crow Rock’ sign, but her feet refuse to budge. It’s as if she’s trying to walk into an invisible wall.

“I’ve tried to leave, ever since I showed up here, but I can’t. It’s like the same magic that brought me here intends on trapping me here forever.” Stiles’ eyes widen. “It’s the etheria. All those manuscripts talked about how people would be yanked away to other hotspots and never return. I thought they just meant that it was the olden days or whatever and that long of a distance was too far to travel without cars or something, but they literally meant that they couldn’t leave.”

Stiles shakes his head, unable to accept this. “I’m not giving up, not now. I’m not losing you again.” Y/N laughs quietly at that. The sound is bittersweet and tears at his heart. “I don’t think you have a choice, Stiles. There’s no way around this.” Stiles’ pulse is thundering in his veins. “No, I’m going to make a choice. Even if I have to do it all myself. No one is supposed to remember the etherials, but I remember you. We’re the exception, Y/N. I am not leaving you again.”

Out of some impulse, Stiles steps forward, wrapping his arms around Y/N and pulling her close. She stiffens for a second, then returns his embrace. After so many days of hearing everyone tell him that she was dead, that she didn’t exist, having her so close is like a dream or an impossibility. They stumble slightly as a strong wind hits them, shifting slightly but not letting go. Y/N gasps quietly, the sound torn away from her chest. Stiles looks at her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Y/N shakes her head slightly. “I don’t know. I feel like-” Her eyes widen as she stares at the sign to Crow Rock, the sign that is now behind them. In that brief moment, when they’d moved to avoid the wind, they’d moved over the town barrier. It had just been mere inches, but it was enough. Y/N stares at him in awe. “How did that happen? It’s never happened before.”

Stiles can just smile at her, feeling relief crest over him like a wave. “I told you, didn’t I? We’re the exception. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think I’d like to go home.” She beams at him. “I think I’d like that a lot.” Stiles reaches out, wrapping his hand around hers to guide her back to the car. They’re together at last, and they can finally make their way back to where they belong.

one moves on tag list: @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @blahhhhhhhaaa

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski series #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf series #teen wolf stiles #stiles imagines #stiles x reader #stiles series #stiles stilinski teen wolf

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mrvltwimagines · 4 years

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Thinking Thin

SPENCER REID X READER

SUMMARY: You knew you couldn’t hide your habits forever, you just hoped you could’ve hid them a bit longer.

WARNINGS: Eating Disorders, Low Self-Esteem, Self Degradation

WORD COUNT: 4k

I knew that what I was thinking was just my mental illness talking. While looking at my body in the mirror, I knew that the words I was thinking about what I saw were words only I thought about myself, but it didn’t stop me from thinking them and believing them.

Pulling my t-shirt up a little higher, I felt a sense of dread come over myself when I take in my overall form. My stomach still hung a bit, and from a side view even tight pants couldn’t stop the protruding shape of it. I wanted to cry. I wanted to physically cut the fat off of myself. How humiliating it felt to be fat when I worked in the field that I do, surrounded by beautiful people. How did the team not look at me and doubt my work? How did they feel so comfortable trusting me with their life when I don’t even have my own put together? I sighed as I pulled my shirt back down and tucked it back into my slacks. After throwing a cardigan on to help me cover up a bit more, I was out the door and on my way to work.

The second I walked out of the elevator and towards the bullpen, I could feel my anxiety rising. I had joined the BAU team close to a year ago. I was close with them all, comfortable on an emotional level with each of them, but when it came to my insecurities and every day struggles to just stay alive or even just eat a meal, they were oblivious. So when I was having a bad day like today, my anxiety sat a little higher on my scale and I could only hope that I could keep it low key.

“Good morning, y/n,” JJ sweetly greeted me as I set my bag down. She was sitting on Reid’s desk, him in his chair and Derek standing next to them. I blushed at the attention I got as they followed JJ’s eye-line, and offered back a similar greeting before taking a seat and letting out a sigh.

“Rough morning, princess?” Derek chuckled. I wanted to say yes, but I knew the question was generic and made more for the purpose of humor.

“Just feel like I’m always tired nowadays. As much as I hate to say it, it’s like I need cases to keep me alert and busy,” I offered back. It wasn’t a lie, I was tired. It might have to do with the little food intake, or the restless sleep, but what they don’t know doesn’t hurt. I did feel more alert when working a case, but that’s to be understood since every case is dealing with murderers. If I wasn’t alert, it’d be a bit questionable.

“Well you are in luck then, missy. Hotch wants us all in the conference room, we have a new case,” Garcia chimed in, speed walking past the four of us and towards the conference room. I watched the others stand up and begin to follow her, but the second I stood up I felt the dizziness set in and stopped myself from moving for a second, needing the support of my desk to not topple over. The dizziness subsided and I cleared my eyesight before standing up straight and trying to blow off what just happened. I looked around to see if anyone caught that, my heartbeat picking up a bit when I made direct eye contact with Spencer right before he disappeared into the conference room. The panicked feeling in my chest grew as I walked towards the room. I could only hope he either saw the end of what just happened, or that he was just curiously looking around and looked at me the same time I looked at him. I didn’t have much time to think before entering the room where everyone was already seated, quickly making my way to my own seat in between Emily and Derek.

“Alright team, last night in Washington, a third hiker was found with a limb missing,” Garcia started, flashing pictures of the newest and previous other victims with different body parts missing from each of them. Beginning to brainstorm with the team, my thought process was somewhere else. I really tried to stay with them, and to throw in my own insights, but it was hard when trying to avoid eye contact with Spencer when I could feel his gaze on me a lot of the time. What was he thinking?

Soon enough Hotch announced that we’ll be flying out in thirty minutes, and everyone started to separate to go grab their to-go bags and finish up any last minute tasks. As I walked out of the conference room, I jumped a bit at Reid standing up straight and pushing off of the railing right outside the door.

“Jesus Spence, are you trying to kill me?” I chuckled, throwing a hand over my heart to be dramatic. My heart was actually beating fast, only continuing its pace once I made direct eye contact with him. He offered a shy smile, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Sorry, I truly didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled, “I just wanted to check in with you, see if you were feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, like I said earlier, just a bit tired.”

“You looked like you were on the verge of passing out right before we went into the conference room. Are you sure you’re alright? Are you feeling sick?” He pushed on. My cheeks went red knowing he had witnessed my dizziness spell earlier. My mind whirled with all my potential answers, but I just couldn’t think of a good one.

“Oh no, I’m not sick. I’m fine, I promise,” I tried to sound confident in my answer, waving him off while beginning to walk by him. I jumped a bit at the feeling of his hand gently wrapping around my forearm, stopping me from walking away.

“I’ve noticed you have moments like what I saw earlier a lot recently. You know you can talk to me about anything, what’s going on?” My eyes widened a bit at how observant he’s been. Of course he wouldn’t forget what he’s seen considering his ability to memorize literally everything, but I didn’t expect him to notice me as much as he has.

“I-“ my mouth clamped shut at the sound of Hotch calling everyone to start to head out. I took the distraction to pull my arm away from Spencer and speed walk to my desk, grabbing my bag and following the others to the elevator. I begged myself not to turn around and look at Spencer, but it was inevitable when hopping into the elevator and facing the doors to see him joining the rest of us. He wasn’t looking at me, and I let out a deep breath. I knew the conversation wasn’t over. I knew he was not making a scene for the sake of my privacy, which I’m thankful for, but I just never wanted this conversation to pick back up.

* * *

The second we got to Washington and split up, any previous thoughts were thrown to the curb and our attention was fully on the case. Hotch, Reid and I made our way into the police station, and the chief of police was quick to fill us in on everything he knew about the case. Thanking him, we were quick to be left on our own to try and figure things out.

The day went by quickly, everyone joining back at the station around 8pm with more and more information, getting us closer to figuring out the unsub. Spencer’s been watching me a bit, and I could tell he had something to say every time I declined wanting anything to eat and instead settling with drinking more coffee. To settle his mind a bit, I made sure to eat a small vending machine granola bar within his eyesight hoping he would be satisfied seeing me eat something. Before we knew it, it was 11pm and we were all exhausted, ready to head to the hotel for the night and pick back up in the morning.

“Alright, we have four rooms. Who wants to board with who?” Hotch asks as we’re packing up our things. This happens every time, and most of the time Spencer and I would share a room, but sometimes Derek and him would go with each other and I’d get a room by myself considering Rossi and Hotch usually go in one and JJ and Emily would share another.

“I’ll board with y/n,” Spencer called out quickly. Everyone else figured their situation after that, but my mind was racing and my stomach was sinking.

I knew there would be a day where hiding my habits would become a bit harder, I just didn’t want to believe that today might be the day that they may become exposed to someone else. I haven’t lost nearly enough weight for the team to notice, and I’ve been doing extremely well at keeping this personal matter at bay. I’ve never had to talk about any of this with everyone, so it’s a dreadful thought that in just under ten minutes there’s the potential that i’m going to have to try an figure out how to hide what’s going on to the extreme or end up telling Spencer what’s truly going on.

The thought of him knowing sent a buzz throughout my body. My mind told me it’s pathetic that I restrict so heavily, and to still be as fat as I am. Would he even believe me if I told him I have an eating disorder while looking like I do? Most days I want to laugh at myself for having an eating disorder and still being so heavy, and I know that Spencer is nowhere near as cruel as my own mind, but what if he doesn’t take it seriously? Would that hurt more than the constant nagging in my brain and pain throughout my body?

The car came to a stop and we all began to go our separate ways. Spencer grabbed our key from Hotch, and I slowly followed behind his tensed form. He didn’t say anything to me the entire elevator ride up. I could feel him side eyeing me and my cheeks burned red.

I was expecting him to say something the second we got into our room, but he didn’t. Instead he simply announced that he was going to shower, and left me alone in the room. A sigh of relief left my lips before my mind went straight to overthinking. What if he just genuinely doesn’t care and he was simply “checking” on me earlier to at least acknowledge what he saw? What if he’s simply going to ignore it? Isn’t that what I want? Why do I feel so upset that he’s not asking me more questions, when i’ve been pushing so hard for him not to?

My mind felt like mush. I didn’t struggle like this everyday. Most days went on like normal. I’d wake up, drink coffee, head to work and just immerse myself into whatever project is going on so I didn’t have to think about food. Most days I’d eat at least one meal, two if I got a considerate amount of exercise in. I won’t deny that i’ve lost weight, but it just wasn’t enough, and that was proven by the fact that no one else seemed to notice either. No one on the team ever judged me for my weight, and I know they all loved me for who I am and not what I look like, but it’s hard not to compare myself when on the same team as women that look like JJ and Emily. They were skinny and pretty, men loved to stare at them, while I was always overlooked and ignored. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I lost some weight and tried a little harder, I might feel a bit more loved. And that’s where I felt conflicted. What I’m doing is unhealthy. I know that much, but I couldn’t just stop. It’s become an addiction of mine to really push myself and see how low of a calorie intake I can have each day while still feeling normal. It’s addicting to have control over this when everything else in my life feels so out of reach.

“y/n?” my head snapped towards the bathroom door, seeing Spencer leaning against the frame. I didn’t realize I had sat down on the end of one of the beds, or that I had just been staring at the wall the entire time. His hair was wet, and he was dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a plain t-shirt. He looked so beautiful, too beautiful to want to be around someone like me.

“What’s going on?” he asked. I’d be stupid to assume that he can’t read me like a book, but I knew that saying anything along the lines of “nothing” wouldn’t be a suitable answer for him.

“I’m just tired.”

“Don’t give me that again, y/n,” he sighed frustratingly and I could feel my heart wrench. Was I annoying him?

“You’ve changed in the past few months. I never see you eat, you’re experiencing dizzy spells, and don’t think I don’t notice how you either avoid your reflection in any reflecting surface or you simply grimace at what you’re seeing. Tell me what’s going on, and don’t lie to me.”

I shook my head, willing myself to stop the tears that were forming and so badly wanted to stream down my face. I quickly turned my head to the opposite side of the room from him, feeling as if I might implode if I made eye contact with him.

“I’m just tired, Spence. Can we please just leave it at that?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound so weak, I wanted to sound confident as to not add to his suspicions, but I messed that up too.

“I’m not going to leave it at that. Do you think i’m stupid, y/n?” this time I couldn’t help but look at him. His voice carried anger and frustration, and it made a ball of guilt and shame expand in my chest. He held eye contact with me before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Of course I don’t think your stu-”

“You must if you don’t think i’ve caught on to what you’re doing to yourself. You’ve lost a good amount of weight within the past few months, you’re not eating, you keep getting dizzy, your moods are constantly changing, and again - I see the way you look at yourself. Now are you going to talk to me or am I just stuck here keeping these assumptions to myself and letting you hurt yourself?”

My eyes widened at hearing all the things he’s noticed. I was definitely the stupid one for assuming he wouldn’t notice. He was staring me down. I tried to hold eye contact but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I spit out. I don’t know what exactly I was apologizing for, but I know I felt guilty. I felt defeated and sad that while I was hurting myself, I was also making Spencer experience it along side with me unknowingly.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me!” His exclamation was the final straw to get the tears running down my face. Could I possibly make this any worse? He clearly knows what going on, and I’m only making him more frustrated the longer I continue to not talk about it, but it was still so embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk out loud about this issue, almost like I felt I didn’t deserve to.

“I want you to tell me you have an eating disorder. I want you to confide in me like I do with you all the time for my problems! I want to hear whats going on in your big, stubborn brain to make you think what you’re doing to yourself is okay!” he approached continued while approaching me. I still sat on the edge of the bed, and he stood right in front of me. I couldn’t help the slight jump at the feeling of his hands gently caressing each side of my face, tilting my head up, forcing me to make eye contact with him.

“I hate how I look,” I softly spoke through tears, “I’m surrounded by beautiful people and I can’t help the embarrassment that floods through me on the daily because I will never be worthy of anyones time. I have rolls and a stomach that hangs over, and I can’t wear shorts or skirts without my thighs chafing and sometimes even my jeans grow holes because they can’t take the tension of having so much fat rub together,” I could feel my regret bubble up with every word I was saying, knowing that whether it be tonight or tomorrow or the day after that, I will regret having talked about any of this out loud, but I can’t stop myself now. It’s been bubbling up in my system for too long.

“I can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone looking the way I do. I can’t imagine anyone would find me attractive, let alone sexy. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, especially naked, how could I expect anyone else to want to? So i’m trying to lose weight. It might not be the best way, but it’s working. It’s working and it might have some negative side affects, but i need it to work, Spence. I can’t keep looking like this,” now I was frustrated crying. So frustrated that I look the way I do. Frustrated that i’ve never been skinny in my entire life, and that even as a kid I was ridiculed for my weight. Frustrated that what i’m saying won’t make sense to a lot of people, but for me it’s my entire existence. My days revolve around this happening to me, and to others they still just see a fat person.

Spencers grip tightened a bit when I tried to pull away. His thumbs had been slowly helping wipe away the tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. For someone who claims so much that they didn’t want anyone to find out, I sure did feel all too relieved that the secret was out. I didn’t know what I wanted out of this, but by the look on Spencers’ face, at least I knew I have someone that loves and cares for me even while dealing with such a difficult thing.

Without saying anything, he pulls me into his chest. My tears were beginning to subside, but the ache in my chest was still persistent.

“I hate to see you treating yourself like this,” he gently started, each word creating a small vibration on my cheek from the rumbling of his chest as he spoke, “You are so strong. You’ve been dealing with this without talking to anyone? How- how you even began to form these opinions and see yourself like this is a mystery to me, but y/n, you are so so beautiful. I don’t know how else to say that. You are so bright and warm, and you help bring everyone to a better place just by being present. It fucking kills me to hear you say these things about yourself, but I get me just calling you beautiful isn’t going to magically fix things.” I could tell he was thinking as he paused after that last second, “I want to help you. I miss your smiles, i miss going out to grab food with you as a small escape from cases. I miss joking around with you, and not constantly being afraid of watching you to make sure you don’t pass out. I know there’s a certain control factor in what you’re doing, but i want to help you get control on things in a healthier way. I don’t know what else to say other than i want to help you. I don’t want to watch you hurt anymore.”

Silence fell over the room after that. My thoughts were all over the place, and I know his were too. He slowly pulled away from me, bringing his hands back up to my face, forcing me to make eye contact with him again.

“I like the control. I can’t let myself go back to before if i still look like this,” I whispered out.

“I can’t let you continue this, y/n. I can’t sit around knowing you’ve gone hours without eating and that you’re constantly having inner turmoil telling you you’re worth so little. You’re so important. No matter what you look like, you are and always will be so important. You’re beautiful, and smart, and you are just... so important,” he responded, “you don’t deserve all the bad you’re putting yourself through. There’s so many other things that you can gain control over, but hurting yourself like this should not be one of them. I don’t know what or how to help you, that’s what i need you to tell me. What can i do for you? What do you need from me? because you’d be stupid to think that tomorrow once we wake up and get back to working the case that i’m just going to forget all of this. This will be on my mind until you get your life back.”

I couldn’t stop myself from crying again. A warmth spread throughout my body, hearing him being so supportive and the furthest from annoyed or frustrated like i thought anyone would’ve been was soothing my heart and mind. There’s clearly no coming back from this. Spencer knew my darkest secret and he’s here telling me he wants to help. This is my chance to help myself, and i’d be more than stupid not to do it.

“I just need support. I need help. I still so badly want to lose weight, but i need help working through my disordered eating mindset and i don’t know if i can do that on my own. I just... need help,” I couldn’t think of what else i could say, but i could tell by the slow nodding and the small smile that was forming on his face that he knew what i was implying.

“I’m so proud of you, just know that. I’m proud that you talked to me and let me know what’s going on your mind. I’m all yours, y/n. I’ll always be by your side and willing to help, you just have to let me.”

I nodded to which he slowly bent down a bit and kissed my forehead. I was beyond relieved that the conversation had died down. I was relieved that someone else knew what was going on in my mind and that i wasn’t alone anymore.

“Now go get your pajamas on. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and I don’t want you to be too sleep deprived.” he smiled.

Even though there were two beds, it was figured by the both of us that only one was going to be used. Once I got out of the bathroom dressed in my pajamas, Spencer was quick to pull the blankets back next to where he was laying and indicate for me to hop in next to him. I settled down, his arms gently pulling me closer to him, and i rested my head on his chest.

“Thank you Spence, for everything. I don’t know what i would do without you,” I admitted after he turned out the lights and we were both settled and about to fall asleep.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. I lifted my body enough to look at him to ensure he was meaning it the way i thought he was, and the look on his face solidified that it was.

“I love you more, Spence.”

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader eating disorder #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds imagine

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iwritesickfic · 3 years

Text

"i kinda have a crush"

synopsis: Henry has a crush on his roommate's best friend Tom. When he gets sick, he's not sure whether Tom's concern means he feels the same.

Henry doesn't have time for a cold. Especially not now. Finals start next week, and between studying for exams, finishing final projects, and going to class, pretty much all his time is going to be occupied. Today, he woke up with a headache and a sore throat, which he's trying to convince himself is just a product of poor sleep, but deep down he knows is just the beginning of something worse to come.

Now, he's in his room, wrapped in his comforter and highlighting passages in his bio textbook, hearing his roommate Sam and his loud friends watching something equally loud in the living room. It's useless trying to ask them to quiet down - he learned after the sixth or seventh time asking that even though they all seem accommodating, they forget pretty quickly. Normally he'd be able to tune them out, but his steadily worsening headache is making it near impossible.

He gets up and starts pulling on clothes - the walk to the library may be freezing, but at least he'll get some quiet. Leaving his room, he's aware of how pissed off he must look, but he doesn't care enough to feign politeness to Sam and his friends.

He heads to the kitchen and grabs his travel mug - he's going to need coffee if he's going to last at the library. He's just filling it up when he hears a voice behind him.

"Hey! Henry! I didn't know you were home!" It's Tom. He's probably Sam's best friend - at the very least, he's the friend who's over more than anyone else. Henry suppresses a sigh. Tom is the exact kind of guy he doesn't like. Bro-y, athletic, always overly friendly to everyone - it just comes off as phony. It also just so happens that guys like this are always very attractive, and Tom is no exception. He turns around to grab milk from the fridge.

"Hey," he says, trying not to sound as annoyed as he feels.

"If I knew you were here I would've been a little quieter - you have finals coming up too, right?" Tom asks, leaning against the door frame in that way he always does.

"Mmhmm. It's fine. I'm going to the library." Talking to Tom is not helping the throbbing in his head. He starts to add the sugar and milk to his coffee.

"Are you sure? I can ask the guys to quiet down."

"No, it's fine." He snaps the cover onto his coffee and starts toward the door.

"Alright, well have a good day!"

"Thanks, you too." When he closes the front door he sighs, rubbing his eyes. He starts down the stairs. Being around people like that is exhausting on a normal day - Henry's always been quiet. Reserved. With the beginnings of a cold it's almost aggravating.

The frigid air outside makes his throat burn and his eyes water. His nose starts to run too, and he hopes it's just the temperature and not a new symptom. Knowing his luck he's going to be the one annoying person in the library constantly sniffling.

His time at the library is mostly uneventful, apart from going through a pack of travel tissues and getting dirty looks from other students. By the time they're ready to close, he feels significantly worse than he did this morning, but he's finished his biology review and is almost done with a paper for Transformative Design.

The trudge home feels like it takes forever - it's only about a 15 minute walk, but between the cold and feeling like crap it seems neverending. He can hear from the hallway outside the apartment that Sam's friends are still here, which makes him want to tear his hair out.

It's almost midnight when they leave, so it's only about that time he can get to sleep. He has class the next morning at 8, and when he wakes up with his alarm, he knows he's in for a full blown cold. His head still aches, and his sinuses feel sore and swollen. His throat kills too, and he feels shivery, despite the heavy comforter.

He lets himself lie in bed for a while, sniffling and trying to absorb as much warmth as he can from the comforter, before he drags himself up. He immediately pulls on his warmest sweater, even though he's just going to the bathroom. It doesn't help the shivering much, but it's something. He probably looks ridiculous, in just a pair of boxers and his oversized sweater, but he feels so shitty he doesn't really care.

Walking by the couch, he sees Tom asleep, shirtless. His heart flutters - he knew Tom was fit but it was something else to see it. The butterflies are almost annoying. There a million guys on campus, why does he have to get so worked up over this one?

In the shower, he cranks up the heat and lets the steam ease the aching in his sinuses. He's in there for too long, but the thought of having to actually walk to class in the cold makes him reluctant to get out.

He arrives to class a few minutes late - nose still dripping from the cold. Luckily today is just a lecture, but it's a five hour class, and he didn't have time to make any coffee this morning. He brought another little travel pack of tissues, but he's definitely going to have to ration them.

He's still shivering. It's worse after being out in the cold, and even though it should get better over time, nothing changes. He just sits there, achy and shivering and congested and miserable until 10:30, when the professor calls for a 10 minute break. Thank god. He needs coffee. There's a small shop in the building, so he forces himself up and out of his seat - which leads to a few seconds of particularly bad throbbing in his head - and out into the hall.

He almost groans when he sees who's working. Tom. Of course he's been to this little coffee spot a million times and he knows it's where Tom works, but he didn't think he'd have to see him this morning. Part of him is annoyed - he definitely does not have the energy to deal with him at the moment - but another part is a little embarrassed at how awful he must look. Not that he should care what Tom thinks of him, he reminds himself. Regardless, he walks up the counter, half occupied rubbing at his nose with a tissue.

"Hey," he says, and is surprised how congested he sounds. Tom turns, eyes lighting up.

"Hey!" He dims a little when he takes in his full appearance. "You ok?" Henry sniffles.

"Yeah. Fine. Can I get-"

"Large hot coffee, oat milk and sugar, right?" Henry's taken aback.

"Uh, yeah. You know my order?"

"Of course. It's an easy order." He goes about starting to make the drink. "Hope we didn't keep you up last night. I kept telling Sam to shut the fuck up but he doesn't listen to me."

"It's fine. I'm used to it." He sniffles again.

"You sound like you're coming down with something."

"And you sound like my mom." That makes Tom laugh, and again, Henry feels a stirring in his chest. Tom puts the lid on the drink and hands it to him, and Henry tries to hand him the money. Tom shakes his head.

"That's ok - on the house." That draws a little smile out of Henry. Tom smiles back, and for a minute he forgets how shitty he feels. "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks."

He heads back to class and sits down, taking a sip of the coffee. It tastes great, as always when Tom makes it, and the warmth helps to ease the chills at least somewhat. The rest of the lecture is spent half paying attention, and half worrying his sniffling and nose blowing is annoying. When it's finally over, he wants nothing more than to just go home and take a nap, but he has a problem set for calculus due tomorrow that he hasn't even started. So, reluctantly, he makes the trek to the library. He's able to work for most of the day uninterrupted - he's not very hungry, which maybe should be concerning but is convenient nonetheless.

By the time he's done, it's already dark out, and the walk home is brutal. The wind is whipping, and his scarf and hat aren't doing much to keep the cold out. His nose is running like a faucet and the cough he developed over the course of the day drags the cold air even further into his lungs. The coughs hurt, like they come from somewhere deep in his chest, and by the time he gets home his throat is destroyed.

When he gets home, he's glad to see Sam isn't making a racket for once. Still, he knows he's in for a restless night anyway. He puts a can of soup on the stove to heat up while he changes into sweatpants and a hoodie. His reflection in the mirror is definitely a sight - he's flushed from the cold, his hair a mess, and his eyes red rimmed.

He knows he should really fit in some more studying before he calls it a night, but after he picks at his soup and does the dishes, he's ready to fall over, so he just curls up in bed, coughing and shivery, and goes to sleep.

He wakes up a few times in the night coughing, and the soreness in his throat makes his eyes water. He's barely able to drag himself out of bed the next morning. His shivers have become more like shakes, and his cough feels like it never stops. He got a decent amount of sleep, but he still feels totally exhausted - even his muscles are sore.

His classes are a blur - he's too preoccupied with feeling awful to focus, and by the time he's done at 6, all he wants to do is go home and sleep until tomorrow morning. But, he knows he has to get at least one assignment done. After tomorrow, he'll have the whole weekend to relax. Not totally, but still.

Just the assignment tonight, classes tomorrow, then he can finally get some rest. The library probably isn't a good choice - his cough is too distracting, and he knows the walk home later will be torture. So instead, he goes back to the apartment. The cold air always exacerbates the cough, so the whole way home he's hacking, his nose running like a faucet. His ribs have started to hurt from all the coughing.

He almost wants to cry when he gets home and hears the sound of Sam and his friends in the living room. Why tonight of all nights? He trudges into his bedroom and changes - he's started to feel warm, which is a relief after feeling so cold all the time, but now it's becoming a both too warm and too cold feeling, so he tugs on his sweater and a fresh pair of boxers.

He starts to work on the physics problem set - there are only three problems total, but each of them usually take an hour at least, and that's when he's not feeling like death. He works for a while, but it's only when he starts to feel lightheaded he realizes he hasn't eaten yet today.

So, he heads into the kitchen and rummages around for a can of chicken noodle. He finds it, but he's too weak and shaky to work the can open right. He tries for a good three minutes before he feels a lump form in his throat.

"Hey, do you want some help with that?" He turns to see Tom standing in the doorway. Self consciously, he sniffles and clears his throat.

"Uh, y-yeah, that would be great." Tom smiles softly and walks over, making quick work of the can. Henry expects him to just go back into the living room, but he grabs the pot from the cabinet and turns on the stove.

"You've got quite a cough there." Henry feels himself blush. They all must be able to hear him from his room.

“Sorry, I-”

“Hey, no, no don’t be sorry. We make enough noise, you’re allowed to be sick.” He pours the soup into the pot and starts to grab spices from the shelf.

“I’m not sick.” Henry isn’t sure why he’s being so defensive, but Tom doesn’t challenge him, just smirks.

“Well whatever it is, it sounds brutal.” He shakes a few of the spices into the soup, stirring slowly.

“I’m ok. Really.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence before someone calls Tom from the other room. He looks a little dismayed, but puts on a smile.

“Feel better, ok?” He rests his arm on Henry’s upper arm, giving him a soft smile, before heading back into the living room. And there’s that fluttering in his chest again.

On his way back to his room, he catches a bit of a conversation.

“I think we should go out.” That’s Tom’s voice.

“Nah dude, it’s freezing.” That’s Sam.

“C’mon, let’s go. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright, whatever.”

Henry smiles to himself. Maybe it’s reaching to think Tom did that specifically for him, but part of him really hopes he did.

The rest of the night is blissfully quiet, apart from his incessant cough. By the time he’s finished with the last problem, it’s midnight, and the world is swimming. He’s never been happier to lie down. But, it’s short lived. Despite being exhausted, his cough and what he suspects is a fever are making it all but impossible to sleep. He drifts in and out of half-sleep, sometimes too hot, sometimes too cold. Luckily his class isn’t until the afternoon, but he spends the whole morning much like the night before. When he finally gets up, he feels truly ready to fall over. His headache is horrendous, throbbing and pounding at the slightest provocation. His sinuses are still swollen, along with his poor throat that makes him wince with every swallow. The cough is the same if not a little worse, except now it sends cramping pain through his ribs.

On the walk to class, he just keeps repeating the same idea in his head. Just three hours, then you can rest. The class is truly a blur, but the walk home is too unpleasant to tune out. Once again, the freezing temperature isn’t any help, and forcing his aching body to walk through the snow gets harder with every step.

He turns the corner for the front door of his building, and a wave of relief washes over him. But, he’s confused when he sees someone standing near the buzzer. He’s even more confused when he realizes it’s Tom.

“Hey, uh, Sam isn’t here. He’s gone for the weekend.” He says, embarrassed at how thready and weak his voice sounds. Tom turns, looking confused.

“Why are you out here? It’s freezing.” He says, and Henry isn’t sure whether it’s the fever that’s keeping him from putting the dots together or this just doesn’t make sense.

“Sam isn’t upstairs,” he repeats, and Tom sighs gently.

“I’m not here to see Sam.” It still isn’t clicking. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

“Ok…” He unlocks the door and clumsily shakes the snow off his boots before getting into the elevator. Tom follows, and Henry figures someone else must be in the building that Tom wants to see, but Tom follows him right to the door. Henry sighs and rubs his eyes. “Tom, what do you want?”

For the first time, it looks like Tom might actually be nervous.

“I came to check up on you.” Henry suddenly feels a strange bundle of emotions unfurl in his stomach.

“Oh,” is all he can manage to get out. Tom bites his lip.

“Is that ok?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s fine, uh…” He takes a deep breath, but breaks into a fit of coughs before he can speak. He feels a steady hand on his back. After he’s done with the fit the world swims, and there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go inside so you can sit down, ok?” Henry just nods, and after a few moments of struggling to fit the key into the lock, Tom does it for him. Immediately, he strips off his scarf and coat and practically collapses onto the couch, pulling off his boots. He leans back into the cushions, closing his eyes.

“Fuck…” he breathes, and he hears Tom laugh quietly. When he opens his eyes, he sees Tom sitting in front of him on the coffee table, still looking nervous. “Why would you wanna check on me?”

“Well you didn’t seem so good last night, and I wanted to make sure you were ok. Even though you hate my guts,” he says with a smile. He starts to rummage through his backpack, and pulls out a bottle of tylenol and a thermometer, as well as a quart container of soup.

“I don’t hate your guts,” Henry says quietly, and Tom gives him another smile.

“Well that’s good to hear.” He leans forward and starts to move his palm toward his forehead, but hesitates. “Is this ok?” Henry nods, and sighs when he feels the cool palm on his overheated skin. He moves his hand to his cheek. “Jesus, you’re really burning up.”

He lets out another volley of coughs, and Tom rubs his back again. It feels nice, but it doesn’t make the confusion go away. For now though, he’s happy to just be looked after.

“Here.” Tom slips the thermometer under his tongue, brushing some of his hair away from his face. When it beeps, he takes it out. “102. Not so bad.” Henry has a feeling he’s saying that more for his benefit than his own. “You want me to grab you some more comfortable clothes?” Henry just nods, and Tom smiles in return. “Alright.”

He gets up and walks into the bedroom, leaving Henry alone on the couch, finally giving him a moment to process all of this. Why on earth would Tom care about him? They’re not really friends, are they? And Tom was straight, wasn’t he? And even if he wasn’t, there’s no way he’d actually like Henry of all people. And did Henry even like him? Sure, he’s sweet and funny and impossibly hot, but he’s friends with Sam. And he’s on the soccer team. And he’s so outgoing and friendly all the time, wouldn’t that get annoying?

He almost doesn’t notice when Tom gets back.

“Here you go. You want me to go in the kitchen while you change?” He hands him the clothes, and Henry bites his lip.

“If you want to.” Is that a weird answer? Tom smirks.

“I’m fine if you’re fine.”

Henry starts to take off his shirt, but he’s so shaky and uncoordinated, Tom has to help him, which probably killed any romance the situation offered, he thinks. The clean fabric feels nice against his feverish skin. The pants go the same way, and he didn’t realize how uncomfortable he was until now.

“Here, lean your head back,” Tom says, and he does. Tom presses a cool, damp cloth to his forehead, and he sighs softly. “That feels good?” He nods. There’s a few moments of silence while he just relaxes into the feeling. Then, he sits up straight.

“Why are you doing all this?” Tom looks nervous again.

“You’re my...friend. And I care about you,” he says, and Henry feels his heart sink a little.

“Oh. Ok.” He must sound disappointed, because Tom smiles.

“Hoping for a different answer?” Henry shrugs, and Tom rubs his jaw.

“I mean, it’s a little embarrassing but I used to...have a crush on you. But I think you made it kind of clear you weren’t interested.” Henry can’t hide his confusion.

“I made it clear?” He’s genuinely not sure what Tom is talking about. Sure, he’s never out right flirted with him, but he always thought he was straight anyway.

“Just...one word answers to everything, always seeming like you had somewhere else to be - it’s fine. I don’t know why I even brought it up. You want some soup?” Henry just nods, and Tom smiles. “Ok, sounds good.”

He heads into the kitchen, and Henry’s mind runs a mile a minute. There’s no way he’s telling the truth right? But why would he lie? He comes back through the doorway and leans against the frame.

“It’s on the stove, just have to wait a few minutes. You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, uh...I wanna tell you something.” Henry doesn’t know how he can make leaning against a doorframe look so good.

“Shoot.”

“I kinda had a crush on you too. Or...have.” He can feel himself blushing. Tom laughs.

“You have a really funny way of showing it.” He’s beaming, and it makes Henry smile too.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re so annoying,” he says, and Tom walks back over to the coffee table and sits down. Tom’s hand rests on his forehead, then makes its way down to his cheek. It feels so steady. Stable.

“I’m not the one that got themself sick with pneumonia because I wouldn’t miss a class, am I?” Without thinking, Henry wraps his arms around him as tight as he can - which isn’t very tight, but still. He buries his face in the crook of his neck and takes a deep breath. Tom rubs his back gently.

“Thank you, for doing all this,” he whispers, and Tom squeezes him a little bit tighter.

“Anytime.”

#my writing #oc henry #oc tom #two more boys pining for each while one has a cold what's new?

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

Right now i don’t know if i want to kiss you or shove you off this building

Part 1 | Part 2(end)

A/N: I have no words really, just i needed to get this off my chest and i wrote it so quickly that part 2 is probably going to be out by the end of the week.

genre: fluff (x100), University! au/ College!au

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox do NOT repost or reblog

Stealing is a crime please do not steal, i do not cross post anywhere else only Tumblr

Pairing: J-Hope x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Word count: 4,000 words

Warnings: i'm still bad at writing fluff but here we go (i cried a lot inside whilst writing it)

There are few times in someone’s life when they would have to rush out of the house in the middle of the night. Most times, it involved an emergency of some sorts.The usual A&E rush, the cravings rush and most important of them all, the all nighter in the library rush.

You have been debating for over an hour now if you should make a dash to the library. Your exhausted body screaming at you to just curl up into a ball and sleep- or cry, whichever came first. However your consciousness, and the fact that your anxiety was at an all time high, was telling you to just suck it up and go get your books from the library. That coupled with your approaching deadline. And to be honest you knew exactly what you would end up doing. After all, your grades could not afford to take a fall. Not worse than what they’ve dropped to now. Anymore and you would flunk the year completely.

But do you really need that book? Your brain tried it’s last card on you. You could technically just stay in, bury yourself in your blankets like the Michelin man, and write your essay that way. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes and got up grabbing your prized pen, the one that got you through your first and second year of exams, a couple of pieces of paper just in case, and your laptop. A trek to the library it is.

The spring air was doing a good job of waking you up. The light breeze, warm enough to not make you die of cold, but cold enough to cool down your tired flushed face. The 10 minutes it took to walk from your accommodation to the library was enough for you to steel yourself against an all nighter of studying.

What you had expected when you went in was anything but a packed library with students quietly studying. The noises of scratching pens and the rhythmic click-clacking of keyboards creating a mellow background noise. Some were dozing off, and you could not blame them, but holy hell could they not have done that at home? Okay, maybe you were judging, but could anyone blame you? You were desperate for a space and by the looks of the rows of heads between the shelves, there was a slim chance you would actually get a seat somewhere. If needed, you knew you could just crouch in between the shelves near the section that housed the maps, but you did not feel like inhaling dust and sporting a cramped leg for the rest of the night.

“Oh come on! This is a big library, there must be a seat somewhere” you whispered to yourself quietly, your eyes scanning the 3rd floor of the library. Aha! There. By the will of the gods, there was a seat, a lone corner at a table that was packed to the brim. You hastily made your way before anyone could spring out of nowhere and claim it, and slammed your butt down on the seat sighing in satisfaction. You’d made it. The first task done. Proud of yourself, you opened up your laptop and pulled the document you had been writing on. The bold letters at the top stating you NEEDED to get that specific book. A harsh reminder that the second task now would be even more difficult. Hunting for a book in this mammoth of a place. But what if you lost your spot? You needed your laptop to search for the book and to be honest you did not trust your laptop to not be stolen. You groaned to yourself, once again debating whether or not you needed the book

You finally decided that the book was non-negotiable and so you quickly grabbed your pen, with the promise to yourself that you would not get lost in the maze of shelves and interesting literature. Hastily writing a ‘will be back’ note, you slammed the pen down on top of the paper and rushed out of your seat.

The library atmosphere was quiet, despite the space being full of poor students who were rushing to meet a deadline or had exams coming up soon. Perusing the shelves, taking note of names that may interest you further on in your degree or even just as personal pleasure, you basked in the quietness and the dimness of the space. You loved the library at night, sure, but not when you were in a rush to finish a paper and not when exam and deadlines season pushed everyone and their mother to cram themselves in the space like sardines. Overall though, the space was dark and quiet just as you liked it.

Finally arriving at the area that was of interest to you, you stood in front of the row of shelves, a slow grin forming on your face. It was perfect, 4 rows of untouched literature. And you had all the time in the world.

Except...you didn’t. “Fuck” you cursed to yourself. You knew you did not have the time and you promised yourself you would not do this. Looking down at your watch, you let out another curse. “Fuck”. It had taken you half an hour to get here, the digital face of your watch showing 12.30am. “Oh man, I did it again” muttering to yourself, you turned your back towards the interesting titles that were calling your name and focused on the one book you actually needed.

Only to not find it on the shelf. Just your luck. “What am i supposed to do now?” dejectedly sighing you slowly made your way back to your seat. All you could think about was the missing book on the shelf.

How were you supposed to be finishing your paper now? Suddenly the quiet and calm atmosphere became gloomy and dark, this was not going very well for you. So lost in your thought you almost walked by your spot. Stopping right on time you looked to the side only to do a double take. It was not your spot anymore, the leather jacket as well as the mop of dark hair that could be seen occupying the seat was definitely not you. You double checked the area making sure you did not stray away again and somehow landed in the wrong spot but no. That was definitely the desk you had placed your note on.

It was just missing the note and seating another person now. Today was definitely not your day. The last thing you wanted to do at this time of the night, especially when you were in a hurry to finish and hand in your paper, was to be civil. But that was your seat. You refused to slouch in between the shelves and cram a seven thousand word paper tonight. You’ve done it enough times in the past for your bum and back to already be screaming at you in protest. Taking a deep breath in, you steeled yourself and approached the seat stealer.

The closer you got, the better the view of the seat stealer. Goddamn they were handsome. At least the side profile was something to enjoy looking at, but that did not change the fact that they had stolen your seat and were comfortably spread out onto the desk casually typing away at their laptop.

To top it all off, as if the scene was not enough to taunt your nerves, they were humming quietly to the beat that you could faintly hear coming from their headphones. And if you were to admit it to yourself, which you would not, they were very good at said humming.

“Uhm...excuse me” your voice cracked, having not been used for a couple of hours. You could not afford to seem meek in front of them, cute as hell and a great hummer be damned, they would not get the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. Truth be told, you hated confrontation. It was the last thing you resorted to under normal circumstances, let alone now when you were tired and stressed. Standing up straighter you tried again, “Excuse me!”

They made no move to acknowledge you or your shadow that cast now over the desk, as if you were both one and the same. Frustrated, you let out a huff and reached out to tap their shoulder. However, as if the fates had it out for you today, the humming seat stealer also came to life, moving his head towards your outstretched hand as they went to grab for their notebook and pen. That motion combined with yours caused a painful collision for the both of you. As it had not gotten a chance to change trajectory towards their shoulder, your unprepared hand bent awkwardly as it made contact with the side of the person’s head. A loud “oh fuck” chorused from the both of you, as both parties retracted as if burnt. Had you mentioned it was not your day?

“Is there a reason why I’m being assaulted at...1am on a Tuesday in the library?”. the seat stealer asked as he turned around to face you completely. He finally had a voice as well, and it was just as nice as the humming. Scrunching your nose in annoyance, you took a deep breath in prepared to tell him off. Not only was HE the one assaulting your hand but also your well deserved seat. Only to do the stereotypical double take. The mop of hair hid a very handsome face. High cheekbones and a pointed nose, your eyes trailed further down to his long neck and toned body. “Uh…” the stranger, seat stealer muttered, his hand going to scratch awkwardly at his long neck. Your brain agreed, “Uh…” you smartly copied snapping your eyes back at the face. You had clearly been caught staring judging by the smug smirk the person had on their face. Not only that but you had managed in a few minutes to smack a total stranger and display copious amounts of intelligence whilst trying your hand at a smart rebuttal to their question.

“So, now that I have your attention. Care to tell me why you are assaulting me at 1am on a Tuesday?” The tone of voice was less alarmed, more amused now. As if he clearly found your embarrassment entertaining.

“Assault? I have not assaulted you….you seat stealer!” You furiously exclaimed only to be interrupted by an equally stressed out fellow student“, Keep it down”. Only then did you become aware of the situation you are in. Three other rows of desks near the one you were currently at, and each of them seated a student who, like you, probably either had exams or deadlines. They were sleep deprived, hungry, and probably had too much caffeine running through their blood for their own good. And they were all focused on your form. To embarrass you further, the seat stealer even had the audacity to smugly smile and whisper “yeah, shhhhh.”

Getting redder by the minute, whether in mortification at being told off by the student a few rows away from you or from increasing anger at the seat stealer, you bent down, eyes narrowed “you….you...shush, and whilst you are at it, get out of my seat, you seat stealer”. You were unsure whether your shouted whisper would sound menacing enough to convey the mixture of emotions running through your veins at the moment. The stranger’s smug smile dropped instantly, a look of confusion replacing it, “seat stealer? What is that about?”

“You stole my seat!”

“I did not. The seat was free. If you passed by it, it was free and you didn’t sit down or leave your stuff on the chair; it doesn't automatically make it yours.” The stranger shrugged carefully, studying your expressions. What he saw must have really amused him because he started snickering to himself. Getting redder by the minute your rebuttal was weak, if only you’d have thought about it beforehand.

“I only have my laptop on me! And I left a note and my precious pen on the desk! A note which you have thrown out to steal my seat.” That is when it all went downhill. “you ‘strange seat stealer’!” the snickers coming from the handsome man got even more violent, to the point of you worrying about him choking- had you not been angry at him you would have asked if he was ok. Unfortunately, you were angry and nothing he did could have solved that.

The stranger abruptly stood up, so close to your face that you could see the numerous lashes that shadowed his dark eyes, amusement still plastered onto his face. He grabbed your elbow lightly, giving you a chance to break free if needed, but you were so stunned by his actions that all you could do was question how handsome his angular face was. “You’re cute, and that was a smart, if odd, alliteration you made there” He breathed, the action making a stray strand of hair blow away from your face, “but we’re making a scene”.

“Wh-” before you could process what he’d said, he trailed his hand from your elbow to your own hand and lightly gripped it with the intention of moving you away. The sudden jolt sprung your brain back to life and you tried fruitlessly to pull your hand away from his grip. Unfortunately, your brain decided to work a bit too late, as you were already past the rows of desks and shelves of books, closer to the lift lobby on that floor. “I am not making a scene, you are making a scene. Who are you to get me away from my seat not only once, but twice?!” Your feet firmly planted on the ground and finally got the stranger to stop. “I don’t know who you are” as he made a move to talk, you interrupted “and I don’t care, I saw that seat first, left a note on it to say I was going to be back and you stole it! I need the space!”

“Why?” The stranger calmly asked. His face showed no signs of anger or frustration, and it seemed like it belonged like that, serene and peaceful. And it made you wonder if anything could ever anger this man. Sure, you did not know him but you had been yelling in his face for the past minute. His demeanour and question threw you off so much so that your brain once again hiccuped.

“What do you mean why?”

“I mean why do you NEED the space, it’s clear that you do not have a bag or any belongings for that matter.” He gave you a once over to emphasize his words, his calm eyes lingering a bit too long on your form for your anger to continue overriding the flustered mess that you had become. “I- I do!” You don’t know why you needed to prove yourself to him, but it was a valid question he’d asked. So, you showed him the arm he was not holding, that carried a laptop. Realising he was still holding onto your hand, the sudden thought made you suddenly hot and clammy and before he could do anything about it you pulled it out of his warm hold.

Trying to ignore the loss of warmth the contact brought you, you looked away flustered.

“This cannot be happening. Look, I sat down there first, I put a note down because I needed to go find a book for my essay and….oh god...it’s due in like…..five hours”. Not looking at him the entire time you explained your situation to him, frustration and anxiety taking over your anger you missed the worried look he threw at your red face and the slight movement he made with his hands as if to grab your fretting ones. Instead when you looked back at him after a couple of moments of silence, what you saw was him studying the space behind you closely. “Hey! Are you even listening?” You got over your anger and tried to explain, (not that you needed to) somewhat logically to make this person understand why you needed the seat back and all they did was ignore you.

“Have you found the book that you needed?” He turned his attention back to you, a small smile forming onto his face. You did not know whether it was the fact that he completely ignored what you had said earlier, the untimely smile he gave you, or the fact that your heart sped up at the said smile, but your anger went through the roof once again.

“No! Now excuse me whilst I go reclaim my seat. If you want to waste time out here just staring at the walls, that is your issue, some of us have problems they need to fix.” Making a move to turn around you halted, realising you were going the wrong way. Mumbling to yourself you brushed past the guy and headed for the lifts. Calling the lift you tapped your foot impatiently. You could find another seat somewhere else, and if not, you were desperate enough to finish the paper that you would risk your own bottom and sit in between shelves. It felt like an eternity until the lift arrived and as soon as you got in you pressed the button for the floor above you thinking you may have some luck there. Surveying the corridor you noticed that the guy had left, and surprisingly a twinge of disappointment made you sigh. You just wanted to continue the argument, nothing else.

Right before the doors to the lift could close though a running form made its way to the lift sliding in between the door with swift grace, almost barreling into you. It took you a moment to realise it was the seat stealer with his bags packed up and his laptop in his hands. “What are you doing?” you hissed as you noticed he cancelled your floor and pressed the tower one instead. “Making up for stealing your seat”, he casually replied as he observed the numbers in the lift change.

“By not letting me go find another seat?” you huffed, “you could have just vacated the seat earlier and it would have all been fine.”

“But it wouldn’t have given me an excuse to talk to you for longer than three seconds would it? I’m Hoseok by the way.” He turned and smiled at you, the dimples in his cheeks becoming prominent. Rendered speechless by his forwardness, you did not know how to respond. So you settled onto clearing your throat and willing the blush that was taking over the apples of your cheeks away. Not meeting his eyes and refusing to grant him with the same grace and give him your name, you chose instead to ask where he was planning to take you. His response was just as cryptic as his previous one, “you will see”.

The rest of the way had been spent in silence, you having given up on trying to argue with the seat stealer...Hoseok. You repeated the name in your head multiple times, it suited him. For a brief second you wondered how it would sound if you said it out loud, but you squashed that thought away very quickly. You weren’t friends or even acquaintances so there was no reason for you to do so.

Whilst your brain was running a hundred miles an hour, throughout this time Hoseok took the time to observe you. Undeniably pretty, a smile made its way onto his face as he watched the different faces that you were pulling clearly lost deep in thought. You are cute. He knew that your argument couldn’t even be called as such. To his defense, the seat he had occupied had nothing on it. It was only when he ran back to gather his things and rush back to you that he noticed the note and the pen that were lying on the floor near the foot of the desk. In his haste he had grabbed both of them hoping that if his plan did not work he would have another excuse to approach you at some point. Now, those two items were weighing down in his pocket. Your name, which you had not freely given to him but it was written on the note, burnt into his mind. Maybe he did not need them after all. He would give you your pen back of course, but he would keep the note. It would be good memorabilia in the future.

The lift came to a halt and the doors opened .This time Hoseok did not even hesitate to grab your hand and lead you to your destination as he was afraid you would run away from him. Your heart thumping again at the gesture you let yourself be led by him too astonished to say anything. Who was this human being and why was he so friendly after you’d argued for the good part of an hour. Before you could panic about the time you had lost, Hoseok stopped abruptly.

‘We’re here’ he motioned with his free hand. The one that did not occupy yours.

Realising so you tried to inconspicuously free your hand from his, the astonishment at his behaviour quickly turned into amazement at the choice of space he was presenting you with. You were not a fan of the tower as heights were a bit of a stretch for you but the cosy alcove with window seats and the view of the night time sky it provided were enough to make you forget that. “Woah, how did you find this place?”’ You mumbled and quickly went to the window observing the lights of the city behind you. For how late it was, the scenery down below was surprisingly animated. Not getting a response you turned around thinking he had abandoned you there. What you were not expecting was the bashful look he was giving you whilst rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, by mistake really, I just happened to wander here one day and yeah...thought it was quiet enough and...well, I needed to make up for the fact that you did not have a seat in the end and you said you needed to finish your paper and…yeah’

Him reminding you of the paper that was now due in less than three hours made you jump in panic. Without thinking you threw your laptop onto the little table space that the alcove offered and sat down. Typing your password you opened the document you were working on. Whilst waiting for it to load you hesitated, bit your lip and looked up.

“Are you not going to sit down? I assume you also have work to do since you are here?” Without looking, you motioned to the seat directly across from you. This could end up being the best decision of your life or your worst... but you came to the conclusion you wouldn’t know unless you took a chance. Hearing him shift his feet and the feel of his knees close to yours as he sat down was enough to make you blush again. Here it goes, now or never.

‘I’m Y/N by the way’ you looked up in time to see him smile.

‘I know’

#jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #bts jhope #kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #i lowkey wrote this whilst not having slept for a week so i'm sorry #bts x you #bts x reader scenario

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hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 6

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1790

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Oh this one was fun to write. Please do enjoy the chaos of this part! Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

You walk into the kitchen quickly gravitating to the freshly brewed coffee pot. You’re not the only one awake in the early morning as Bucky and Sam are bickering from their seats on the counter.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Sam exclaims. “You did!”

“No, I didn’t,” Bucky scoffs. “I was awake from the start to the very end. You’re the one who can’t hang after your early bedtime.”

“You want to come after my bedtime?” Sam repeats. “At least I get the recommended eight hours of sleep every night. I'm a healthy individual. What do you do? You stay up all night doing God knows what and sleep in all day. You got bags under your eyes, old man!”

Your chuckle breaks the tension in the room as you settle across from them.

“Are you two… sleeping together?” you ask.

“Me and him,” Bucky answers as he points at himself and Sam. “He wishes.”

Sam looks offended.

“I’m so way out of your league and besides, you’re not my type.”

“I’m everybody’s type,” Bucky argues.

You roll your eyes at them wondering how you managed to end one argument just to ignite another one.

“Guys,” you exclaim, capturing their attention immediately. “If you’re not dating, then why are you arguing about who fell asleep first?”

Sam and Bucky share a look and you knew the answer would not be to your liking.

“Tell me.”

“We were just keeping an eye out for you, doll,” Bucky answers. “Loki knew what he was doing when he chose the room right in front of yours. Sam and I thought it would be for the best to station ourselves in your hallway throughout the night to make sure he doesn’t pull anything.”

“Yeah, but then I fell asleep on my shift,” Sam sighs. “So we lost surveillance for the rest of the night.”

“Ha! You admit it then!” Bucky exclaims. “It was your fault!”

“Oh, come on,” Sam scoffs. “You should have had an alarm ready to take over for your shift. What’s your excuse for not waking me up?”

“Well, I snoozed my alarm,” Bucky confesses with a shrug. “I expected you to come over to wake me up but you didn’t.”

“So what I’m hearing is that it’s both of your faults…”

“Yes,” both answer.

“...And that you guys invaded not only Loki’s privacy but my own for stalking my hallway the entire night...”

“Yes.”

“...And not only did you fail in your appointed surveillance job but you have also now severely pissed me off,” you conclude enjoying the alarmed look falling upon both of their faces. You take a sip of your coffee and hum. “I hope you know payback’s coming.”

They continue to stare at you with mouths gaped open.

“I know I should be afraid but I find myself very attracted to you right now.”

“Same.”

You stare at Bucky and Sam in surprise.

“Did you guys mean to say that out loud?”

Bucky scowls before you find his face turning alarmingly red.

“I mean you’re hot when you’re mad and threatening and in charge...”

“I think what Bucky is trying to say is that we have a thing for women in power and why did I just tell you that,” Sam stammers out. “I… Wait, are you doing your thing? Your confession thing? Oh, you are! You sneaky…”

You frown when you realize that you were indeed doing it again. You were in control of this power inside of you but you didn’t know how to make it stop. Part of you wondered if you even wanted to.

“I gotta go,” you interrupt as you set your mug down. “I gotta go now.”

You don’t wait to hear their responses as you run out of the kitchen. You just wanted to make your way into your room and figure it out yourself but luck was never on your side seeing as a cheerful Wanda appeared around the corner.

“Good morning,” Wanda greets. “Do you wanna hear a secret? Vision and I have been secretly seeing each other. No one knows!”

You can’t hide the shock on your face and neither can Wanda as her smile drops.

“Why did I just tell you that?”

You don’t offer a response as you sprint out of the hallway hoping to just reach the privacy of your room. It doesn’t surprise you when you run into somebody else but you are relieved at the face you find.

“Loki,” you sigh. “Good, great… Let’s go.”

You take a hold of his wrist and start to lead him out of the building and away from the facility overall. You stray from the paved path and start descending down a random hill. Loki waits for his monitor to go off but nothing occurs.

“Where are you taking me, little mortal?” Loki finally asks. “Why are we so far out?”

“I can’t shut it off,” you exclaim as you let him go. “I was just having breakfast with my friends when they started to confess things to me. I didn’t even realize it until they were spewing things I didn’t need to know. I’m not manic like I usually am. I am in full control here and I don’t know how to turn it off.”

Your chest suddenly feels tight and you can’t take a deep breath.

“Can I even turn it off? Am I stuck this way?” you ask as your vision begins to fade out. “Oh… Oh I don’t feel so good. My heart should not be beating this fast and I feel really hot. I feel like I’m going to…”

Loki is quick to grab you as he notices your imbalance. He helps settle you down onto the ground and advises you to breathe.

You do but it doesn’t ease you at all.

Loki didn’t have to touch you to feel the power radiating from your body. Once again it had alarmingly grown overnight to the point that it was no longer being held into your body but around it like a protective cloud.

“Don’t panic.”

You glare at him in response seeing as you were currently in a state of panic.

“Well… don’t panic more than you already are,” Loki corrects. “But your power has grown once again and seeing as you are in control then we must resort to other methods in how you deal with this excess power.”

Loki waves his hands in a circular motion and a pair of golden gauntlets appear out of thin air.

“These should help,” Loki states as he kneels down in front of you. He takes your hand and slips one on before doing the same with the other. “Just don’t take them off.”

You inspect the gauntlets that you were now sporting. The metal was cool against your skin and laid heavy around your wrists. A light stone rested on your palms and you watched as it shifted colors.

“What are these?” you ask him.

“Siphons,” he answers. “The stones embedded on the palm of your hands come from Alfheim. They store and help young seidr-wielders to manipulate magic more precisely. I used similar ones when I was younger until I grew into my powers.”

“But I won’t have that same luxury, will I?”

“No, no you will not,” Loki answers. “You will have to wear these for the rest of your life and expel the collected power over time. If you go too long without doing so the stones will become overpowered and break which wouldn’t go well for you.”

“I end up dying, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, great,” you mutter. “How do I do that? Expel power?”

Loki tries to find the words to explain but finds himself at a loss. He can’t help but think back to how his mother had given him his own siphons when his power started to affect everyone around him.

“Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and focus. Conjure up your intention and then trust your magic to make it real.”

Loki uses those same words with you and watches how you follow his instructions with more ease than he had all those years ago.

A bright light flashes from your hands shooting into the wooded area nearby. Two tree branches crash to the ground and you flinch at the sight of them.

“Ok that’s kind of scary,” you comment as you look down at the gauntlets. “Was that normal?”

“In a way…” Loki mumbles realizing the alarming power that you held in the literal palms of your hands. “Like I said, you’re stronger than I presumed you would be.”

“Great, that’s great,” you mumble. “Now I know how Tony feels with his thrusters.”

You look down at the palm of your hands noticing the siphons lighting up once more.

“They’re up and running again.”

“As I’ve said before, you’ve been bestowed a great power.”

You can’t help but pause and think over your entire interaction with him.

“A power that you seem immune to,” you point out as you turn to look at him. “The others… they confessed things without prompting. You didn’t. Why?”

“We’ll both be immune to each other in one way or another,” Loki explains. “I can never lie to you since you’ll be able to tell. Of course this means that you won’t be able to lie to me because that is my area of expertise and I’ll know.”

“But why?”

“Because balance,” Loki repeats. “You and I are two sides of the same necessary coin. We are the light and the dark, the sun and the moon, the good and the bad... ”

“Right, the truth and the lies,” you sigh but something still didn’t fit in his explanation. “Why does it feel like you’re not telling me everything?”

Loki is surprised that you have caught on to him quickly. You were adapting fast to your new power. Trusting it instinctively and so naturally as if you already accepted it as a part of you.

He can’t help but stammer out in surprise.

“There are loopholes,” Loki answers honestly. “Manners in which I can evade the truth without speaking dishonestly.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“You could certainly work around that though as you did now. I’m sure with some training you could manage to catch on to the evasions quicker.”

“Are you going to train me in that?” you ask. “Or are you going to keep those secrets to yourself?”

Loki can’t help but chuckle.

You were bold and unafraid of him. Not many of the new agents had that same courage nor the strength to be fighting alongside Midgard’s merry band of heroes. You were one of a kind.

“We shall see,” he answers. “For now, let’s focus on the siphons. Become familiar with them, get used to the feel of them, and most importantly, learn to aim.”

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart

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unlikelymilkshakedream · 3 years

Text

A/n: Hello! Here is part 3 for the Charlie Weasley fic I promised. Sorry this took so long. I promised angst, so I'm giving it. Hope you enjoy!

Another day, another exam, or so it seemed that way at Hogwarts. As May came to a close, and June starts, your O.W.L.s were giving you more stress than you had ever felt. Your future was on the line if you didn't do well with your exams.

Not only were your exams crushing you, your relationship had been rocky for a couple of months. After the valentines day dance with your date, Charlie Weasley, nothing could have made your life better. You were dating your best friend, all of your friends supported you, and you had no tests coming up. In other words, very different from your life currently.

You were still technically dating your best friend, but from long classes and homework that came with them, to Charlie's quiditch practices lasting forever in hopes of winning the house cup, you hadn't had time to spend a moment alone together in what felt like years.

Your friends would always be there for you and you knew that, you cared about them with your whole heart and knew they felt the same way, but they had their own exams and futures just as you did. You would never ask them for anything because you didn't want to be a burden.

And of course, your exams. Your dreams of becoming a curse breaker were very important to you. You wanted nothing more than to help people, on top of finding your brother and protecting hogwarts. You were a natural curse breaker so it only makes sense that you would pursue your passion. However, if you wanted to do that, you needed to not only pass your exams, but exceed the expectations.

With that responsibility came nights on end in the library, studying, preparing and hoping that it would all work out. Your exams, finding your brother, hell, even your relationship with Charlie. You knew how rocky it was and you were devastated by that, but you knew if you two truly wanted to, it would work out, or so you hoped.

So, another night in the library, was your fate. You wanted to be with Charlie, but you knew he had quiditch practice, and you had a potions exam in the morning that you weren't ready for. As you flipped through your book, trying to soak up as much information as you could, you didn't notice a certain redhead sneak behind you.

"Hey baby," you felt the hot breathe on your neck and jumped more than out of your skin.

"Blimey Charlie, you scared me." He chuckled as he pulled a chair beside you.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see you after practice, and I haven't seen you all weekend." He smiled at you, which you couldn't help but smile back.

"I know, its just tomorrow starts like the most stressful week of the year. If I don't do well on my exams, my future can be forgotten. Speaking of, I am not ready for potions tomorrow, hence why I'm here." You smiled as you looked back towards your book.

"Hey, you're gonna do great on your exam because you are great, and smart, and beautiful," Charlie said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. "Its just we haven't seen each other in a while, thought i could keep you company." You sighed.

"Look, I know we haven't been the most talkative lately, but what exactly do you want me to say, you know how important this is to me." He put his hand on yours.

"I know, I get it baby, I do, and after this week, we're gonna celebrate." He said with the biggest grin on his face. Suddenly, Madame Pince came around the corner with the dirtiest look on her face.

"Shh!" You smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry Madam-"

"Shh!!!" You sighed as she walked away. You turned back to charlie.

"You better go, I have to study and don't wanna get kicked out." You smiled at him.

"Okay, but I meant what I said about celebrating." He smiled hugley. You returned the smile, only a fraction of what he had given you. That made his smile falter and eventually he turned and walked back to his dorm.

Eventually you had to except the time as 11pm rolled around and Madam Pince kicked you out of the library. You took the book along with all your other stuff and headed towards your common room.

Once you were in, you sat down near the fireplace and opened your potions book once again, flipping to the section about dragon livers and how they were hard to get.

Eventually, you heard the clock strike 2am and had to call it a night. As you closed your booka nd sat back, looking into the fire, you thought of your life as a cursebreaker, how great it would be, how much you wanted to do it, and what you were willing to do to achieve that goal.

As you stood up and headed towards the stairwell, your way was blocked by charlie, the last person you expected to see, especially at this hour.

"Hey, what're you doing up?" Charlie asked groggy.

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just going to bed." You said as you pushed past him and climbed the stairs. He followed you up.

"I thought you'd be up, I was just checking on you." You turned around as you got to the last step before your dorm and smiled.

"Thats sweet, but go back to bed. Goodnight." You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then headed into your dorm, falling on your bed and instantly falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke at around 8. Shit. You were late. You quickly got up and dressed faster than ever and ran to the dungeons. You mad either to class just in time, not eating or anything.

"Well, well, Ms. Brooks, you have decided to grace us with your presence, how considerate." Snape sneered at you as you walked to your seat beside Rowan, breathing heavily, across the room, you saw Charlie looking worriedly at you, which was the last thing you wanted in that moment.

Once your potion exam was finished, you walked out of the room, feeling exhausted and like you failed. You started walking to your next exam, which was charms, the easiest of your exams. Soon enough a certain redhead caught up with you.

"Hey, y/n, why were you late today?" You turned to him.

"I over slept, which I dont do, so I didn't realize at which point I had to sprint to make it, which I didnt." You sighed tired lying. "Why?"

"Just wondering, I missed you at breakfast. Did you eat anything?" You smiled softly.

"No, I haven't but its fine, look i have to go to charms and I really don't wanna be late again, see you." Without another word from either of you, you walked away to charms.

At charms, you felt most confident of all classes, which honestly wasn't saying a lot. You finished your exam pretty easily and walked to the great hall, intending on studying until your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in an hour. Once the clock struck the time to take your next exam, you left the great hall.

Once you reached DADA, you walked in with Tulip and took your seat. You should feel bad, but you just were so glad charlie wasn't there, staring at you like a sorry case. He meant well and you knew it but you just wanted space.

As you finished your final exam of the day, you headed to the library, studying for transfigurations next. When you reached the library, unfortunately you fell into the same pattern as the previous night, except this time no charlie.

When the clock struck midnight, you went to the dorm room and headed straight for bed, not bothering to study anymore. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining into your window nicely. It was a good way to wake up honestly. You say up and saw Rowan asleep. You figured you had a few minutes before breakfast so you got up and got dressed.

You and Rowan walked to breakfast while revising your transfiguration knowledge. You didn't feel as bad about it as potions but you also didn't feel as great about it as charms. Walking into the great hall, you found Charlie sitting with his younger brothers. You knew you had to go sit with him.

"Hey y/n, how'd you sleep?" Charlie asked as he saw you sit next to him and his brothers giggled at him, to which he sent a dirty look.

"Um, not the best but ye know. Its whatever." As you sat down you ate the blandest breakfast ever, granola and coffee, it would just have to do for today.

"Are you guys ready for the big game tomorrow night?" Fred asked the table. You looked at him with a confused expression whereas everyone else seemed to understand.

"What game fred?" He turned to you.

"Uh, the house cup game, we are so gonna kick hufflepuffs ass." Ah.

"Right, good luck." Charlie turned to you.

"You'll come right love? What me win?" You smiled as you sipped your coffee.

"Uh yeah, maybe, I might have to study for History of magic but we'll see." Charlie stopped.

"Y/n, you can't miss the game, its only the biggest game of the year. Please come." Ugh when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you knew you were done for.

"Okay, yes I will go, of course I will." You smiled and kissed his cheek.

As breakfast finished and you and Rowan made your way to transfiguration, you felt confident in the upcoming essay. Going over info with Rowan definitely helped.

Once you were finished with the exam, you went to the great hall, being assigned twenty five inches of parchment for the second half of the exam was not ideal. You were stressed out, but at least you only had care of magical creatures left for the day, something you were sure you'd excel in thanks to charlie.

As you walked down the grounds for your exam, you felt very confident that you'd do well. Your confidence was correctly placed as you walked to the common room to start on you parchment for transfiguration, doing very well on your exam in care of magical creatures.

The real problems didn't start until the following day, charlies big game was today and you hadn't made a dent in your parchment, due to not being able to focus and eventually falling asleep far earlier than you would have liked. Today you had exams in astronomy, history of magic and a regular potions class. You were extremely busy today, it didn't help you woke up 20 minutes before your exam in astronomy so you had to sprint once again to be on time.

Once you were seated in astronomy, your exam begun and you didnt feel very confident. You gave it your all and after about 75 minutes, you were done. You walked out and saw your boyfriend charlie who lit up when he saw you. You walked over to him with a small smile on your face.

"Hey babe, whats up?" You asked him.

"Not much now that your hear, just nervous for later." You looked at his smiling face confused.

"Later?" His smile dropped. You had forgotten about the quitditch match.

"The match that determines who wins the house cup? I thought you were coming, its really important to me." Shit. Right, yeah of course you would go.

"Right, of course I will be there, sorry I'm just tired you know how it is. I will be there, but right now I have to go to potions, ill see you later." Damn, how had you forgotten?

Potions seemed to last forever as Snape lectured on Beatle brains, you swore you were going to die of boredom, all you wanted to do was study for history of magic.

When class was finally dismissed, you headed straight for the library, not having your final exam for an hour and a half. When you sat down in the library, you immediately fell into studying, the time slipping by quickly until it was time to go to your exam.

Arriving to your exam, you set your things down and got ready for it, feeling confident as you had spent a lot of time studying for this. You finished your exam in 65 minutes and headed to the great hall, feeling hungry.

When you got to the great hall and saw what was happening inside, all hunger left your body.

Shit.

Inside, Gryffindor students were celebrating the win of the house cup, you had forgotten the game. You walked in to the great hall and saw Charlie, held up by his teammates above everyone like a king. You smiled at how happy he looked, but when he saw you, its like every drop of happiness was taken from him and you felt your heart break.

Charlie told his team mates to let him down which they did as he made his way over to you, looking hurt and disappointed. You couldn't do much besides stand there and look at him sheepishly.

"Y/n, why didn't you come to the game, you knew how important it was to me and how much I could have used your support." He said loudly, causing those near you to look on at the conversation.

"Charlie, can we go in the hallway?" He looked pissed but didn't object. Once you were away from everyone, you turned to him.

"Charlie, I am so sorry I didn't go to your game, I was in the library studying and the time just got away from me and before I knew it I had to go to my exam and I completely forgot l. I'm so sorry. But you won anyway so you didn't need me at all, cause your just that good." You said with a smile, trying to defuse his anger. It didn't work.

"Y/n, that's not the point, you said you would be there and I wanted you there. You didn't need to study for your exam, you've been studying all week, this is all I asked of you and you couldn't even give me this." As he finished, you felt sorrow drain and anger rise.

"What exactly do you mean I didnt need to study for my exam? I have been studying all week, unlike you, because I care about getting good grades. You know how badly I need to do on my exams to have a future! I didnt go to your match, because I wanted to make sure I did well. I apologized but now your being irrational." He scoffed.

"Irrational? I asked one thing of you, I asked you to attend a quiditch match to support your boyfriend, but apparently if it doesn't benefit you, it doesn't matter, huh is that it?" You were now fully screaming at each other, thank god the hallway was deserted.

"Are you serious? You know maybe if you cared more about your future and grades like I do, you would see where I'm coming from, but all you care about is a God damn match and dragons! No wonder we've been like this for months. You say im selfish, I've done everything for you. I miss one thing and the worlds over to you." Charlie turned away and scoffed.

"You're right, we have been like this for a long time, because we just don't work anymore." You froze. "Y/n, you can't even support your own boyfriend, you care more about tests than anything, this clearly isn't working." You looked at him while a tear rolled down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away. You didn't want to break up with Charlie, God no. But he didn't seem to want to stay together.

"Charlie, it's not like that, you know how stressed I've been, I'm sorry I didn't come to your game, I truly meant to go. I care a lot about my future, but you don't and thats not on me. You can't put this on me, its not just the match, you've been like this ever since the dance, its not only me." More tears rolled down your cheeks as one slid out from his eye.

"Y/n, this just isn't working, I'm sorry." No, God no please.

"Charlie, no, please, don't do this. I swear I-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry, its already done." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in an empty corridor, feeling your heart leaving your soul. You don't know how it happened, you don't know where it went wrong. Was it truly the match? Or was it ever since the day of the dance? Did he even ever like you?

As you stood in that corridor, you felt cold, you felt like you soul left you. You watched him walk away and eventually out of eyesight, thinking about how you would never feel his kiss again, never feel the comfort of his embrace, never feel his love again.

You didn't want this, God no, but your gut told you it had to happen, you just wish it didn't hurt this much. As you wrapped your arms around yourself and sank to the floor with tears on your face, you felt nothing but hollow, wishing the presence of charlie was still there. Wishing he could hold you and tell you he loved you again, as you loved him still.

You didn't know how you were going to go on without him, but you knew one thing for sure, the last thing you cared about was your fucking grades, because you just lost the best thing in your life.

A/n: okay, sorry this took so long, I suck i know! Im sorry this was shitty, I will try to finish the series relatively soon, there will be 2 more parts. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley angst #hphm #hphm mc #harry potter

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Chapter 19

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Tallpaw was crouched low in the long grass of the pastures. He wasn’t searching for any prey, instead he was just sitting alone in the empty fields, looking in the direction of the twoleg barn. It had only been a couple days since his disastrous attempt at tunneling, and his father had been making a point of avoiding him, giving him nothing more than a distant glare. By now, everyone in camp had heard about the incident. He didn’t know what Heatherstar had to say about it yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. No one brought it up but he always felt like they were watching him with pity, or worse, scorn. Tallpaw hadn’t been able to focus at all, and had slipped away from team hunting training with Shrewpaw after he’d missed his third catch. Shrewpaw had gotten fed up with him and growled in frustration “Just forget it, I’ll just catch something myself and say we caught it together!”

He felt terrible. He had no idea how to make the cats he cared about happy. Dawnstripe wanted him to focus on moor training, Sandstone wanted him to become a prodigy tunneler, he had no idea what his mother wanted at all.

He wasn’t sure he felt worthy to train as anything anymore, he wanted to curl up under a gorse bush and stay there, not have to ask any cat for anything ever again and have no cat ask anything of him. It was a cowardly wish. And it wasn't like him to desire hiding in the undergrowth. Maybe that was why he had found himself walking towards the northern treeline, and why he now crouched at the outskirts of the farm, the woodland strip behind him blocking the breeze. He hadn’t consciously intended to come this way, but this is where he was. Just somewhere far away where he couldn’t disappoint anyone, where the wind wouldn’t catch his scent and invite anyone to come after him.

Tallpaw shouldn’t be in the pastures, he kept telling himself that, but some part of him was so desperate for some respite from the anxious buzzing in every part of his body, he was willing to try anything. His tail flicked restlessly. I don’t even know where Jake is, this was a mouse-brained idea. But before he could get up and leave, a bright orange shock of fur bounced out of the grass, making Tallpaw jump.

“Tallpaw!” Jake cried, “You’re back already! I didn’t think you’d come out this far again. I saw your tail in the grass and knew it had to be you. I was practicing my stalking, did you hear me coming?”

Jake looked so happy to see him. Tallpaw managed to get out a purr, “I didn’t. You’re a fast learner.”

It certainly wasn’t a lie, but mostly because Tallpaw had been too busy arguing with himself to pay any attention to a kittypet sneaking up on him.

Jake studied him, his eyes narrowed in slight concern “You doin’ ok? You seem a little down.”

“I’m fine,” Tallpaw lied. It didn’t sound convincing even to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was confess what a mouse-hearted stunt he’d pulled before when he went into the tunnels, especially not when Jake had tried so hard to encourage him before.

“I won’t make you spit it out. I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.” Jake said politely.

Tallpaw hummed quietly but he avoided Jake’s gaze “I really just wanted to make sure you were doing ok. How are you?”

Jake seemed happy enough to oblige Tallpaw’s push for a change of subject. He told him how he caught a tiny mouse after a kestrel dropped it, and was practicing swatting at birds, and how his twolegs had been extra nice to him that day. Tallpaw still had some doubts about that last part, but he wasn’t going to interject about it today. Although Jake didn’t mention the obvious tension Tallpaw held in his body again, there was more understanding in his deep green eyes then Tallpaw would have expected. He had thought of Jake as a bit of a flighty cat who didn’t pick up on emotional cues very often, but he got the feeling the kittypet was perhaps a lot more perceptive than Tallpaw had been giving him credit for. Maybe his friendly nature wasn’t a result of naivety, maybe he was just… like that by choice. He was just nice. Why was that surprising? He smiled softly to himself as Jake talked.

“You know,” Jake said, “I’ve been getting a feeling lately that somethings going to change for me soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. I just feel it in my gut. I finally met some of those nicer cats you mentioned, Reena and Bess. I thought about what it would be like to travel the way they do, it sounds so fascinating. ”

“Are you...considering it? Leaving with the visitors?” Tallpaw wasn’t sure he could picture it. Though he had to admit Jake and Reena had a similar friendly disposition.

Jake shrugged. “Oh I don’t know about that, they seem nice but I barely know them. I’ve never been a stray before. I think I would miss my housefolk too much, you know? It upsets them when I disappear. They’ve been acting strange lately, moving stuff out of their den for days. I have a feeling they're getting ready to leave, and I think I may go with them.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. Don’t you like it here? You can’t just let them take you! You don’t even know where they’re going to go!” Tallpaw said more quickly than he intended.

Jake flicked his tail casually. “Yeah I know, but I’m not that worried. The rest of my family went their separate ways like this, and honestly I never imagined I’d stay here my whole life. Just staying put in the same place? I always wanted to see somewhere new. I guess I’m just going to see where life takes me”

Jake seemed so chipper at the idea, but Tallpaw was surprised at how sad he suddenly felt at the idea of the kittypet leaving. He shouldn’t be here, he knew that, but...it was nice to have something to himself. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Tallpaw didn’t think about how stressed out he was in camp when he went to see Jake. He didn’t want to lose this, as selfish as it was. Well, he thought. My father wasn’t really wrong, was he? I’d rather do anything to run away from hardships. Of course this is where I’d end up.

“Well...good luck.” Tallpaw said quietly, “I should get going. Maybe it’s for the best. I’m breaking the rules coming here so often.” He turned very abruptly to leave, painfully aware it was probably rude.

“Oh! well...I’ll see you Tallpaw!” Jake called with some uncertainty.

Tallpaw wasn’t sure that he would, and felt a hollow pang in his chest at the thought. But he shouldn’t have run off and left Shrewpaw to do the assignment alone. But when he got back to the moor, instead of Shrewpaw, he was surprised to see Reena and Sparrow padding along the treeline. Tallpaw’s first instinct was to worry, but he remembered Sparrow apparently already knew he visited Jake sometimes. Reena waved her tail when she caught sight of him. She smiled in a friendly way, but the rest of her betrayed her worry. Sparrow wasn’t even looking at him. He kept staring down at his paws.

“Hello Tallpaw,” Reena said. “Have you seen Hen or Mole? They suddenly aren’t in camp and no one is sure where they’ve gone.”

“Hen? Not recently...I think I saw her just outside camp when I left early this morning.”

“Well she’s not here, so we should look somewhere else,” Sparrow hissed, already padding away.

Reena dipped her head to Tallpaw apologetically. “Well...if you see her or Mole...please tell them to return to your camp. Hen hasn’t been doing well, we’re worried about her.” With that, she turned and hurried after her companion.

***

Shrewpaw was waiting for him with a small rabbit and a disgruntled glare as Tallpaw tried not to look guilty. He was hoping he’d find the other apprentice soon enough to still be able to help.

Shrewpaw just gave an irritated flick of his tail. "Whatever. This gets us back to camp faster. I’m tired. You can owe me for it later.”

On the way back, Tallpaw scented the air carefully and kept his ears pricked for any sign of Hen. Such a frail old cat surely could not have gotten far alone, but he still didn’t see any sign of her or Mole. Hopefully they hadn’t gotten lost.

A very tired looking Briarpaw was the first cat to catch them.

“Hey Briarpaw,” Tallpaw called. “You haven’t seen Hen around have you? Reena said that she’s wandered off.”

Briarpaw looked grim. “I’m afraid we have.”

Tallpaw expected the worst judging by the look on his friends face, and his suspicions were quickly confirmed.

“She wanted to go on a walk with Mole. Apparently she needed to stop and rest while out on the moor, and she just...didn’t wake up again. Some of the warriors found Mole laying with her and had to carry her back. Hawkheart tells me she was already passed before they got her to camp. We’re not sure what the visitors will want done.”

Sure enough, when they walked into camp, there lay the still white shape of Hen, with Mole pressed close to her side. Tallpaw was a bit stunned. He had never actually seen a dead cat before. She had been alive just before he left, and had even spoken to him not long before that. And now here she lay, her fur messy and tangled with bits of thistle that Mole was attempting to lick out of her fur. Tallpaw felt a twinge of guilt then.

“She had to have gone at almost the same time as me…” He murmured to himself. “I was so distracted when I left to catch up with Shrewpaw. Perhaps if I’d paid more attention...They shouldn’t have been allowed to go walking around.”

Briarpaw pressed his nose to his shoulder softly. “A walk on the moor isn’t what killed her, her sickness was one beyond our powers to cure. She died with her mate at least. Cloudrunner and Brackenwing have gone out to find the rest of their friends.”

Tallpaw nodded solemnly, but he still felt bad. The visitors were so lively and kind--most of them anyway. He really had hoped they would be able to help.

Bess and Algernon returned shortly, approaching Mole with their heads bowed as they both in turn pressed their noses to their old companions' bodies. The clan stood back in quiet hesitation. There wasn’t a ceremony to perform for cats who weren’t clanmates, but no one wanted to step forward to offer condolences yet either, so they were silent. Do Sparrow and Reena know yet? Tallpaw thought. Sparrow had seemed so sure Hen would get better soon. However prickly and unapproachable the little loner could be, Tallpaw wouldn’t have wished this on him, or any cat. He didn’t envy whoever had to break the news to him. Who knew how he would react?

Unfortunately, they didn’t have to wait long to find out. Mole hadn’t moved from Hen’s side until he heard the two young cats’ return. Sparrow stood rigid at the top of the shallow slope leading into camp and Mole began to limp over to him, standing in front of him as if he wanted to block his view. Tallpaw was too far away to read Sparrow’s expression or make out Mole’s hushed words until eventually he heard Sparrow raise his voice, tight as he fought to keep it steady.

“Then why did we even come here!?” he snarled, “we only went so far out of the way because they were supposed to help us, and most of them didn’t even want to!”

Sparrow’s sharp gaze snapped towards Hawkheart and Briarpaw, who sat some distance away from the body of Hen. Hawkheart didn’t give much away but he narrowed his eyes at Sparrow’s accusing glare

“She didn’t get better at all! If anything she got worse, did they even try? They just wanted us to leave, the quicker she was gone, the quicker we were gone. Is that it?”

Tallpaw was afraid Hawkheart would turn on the little cat at the accusation, but he didn’t even ruffle his fur. “My orders were to treat her to the best of my ability, so that is what I did. My feelings played no part in it. There was a sickness forming from the mass inside her. It was already taking her life when she arrived here. All the herbs and remedies StarClan has gifted us could not remove what was already set fast.”

“Then why was it so fast?” Sparrow looked back at Mole. “She was alright not more than two moons ago, and she could still walk when we got here, why didn’t we have more time at least if their healers were good for anything?”

“Sparrow, please,” Bess’s voice was firm, but raspy in barely concealed grief. “This isn’t what Hen would want at her place of passing. It was her time.”

“I don’t want her to be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Sparrow's eyes darted around to the staring strangers surrounding him. He looked like he wanted to spit more insults but couldn't find the words for them as he dug his trembling claws into the soil. Mole stepped closer, but Sparrow backed away and was gone back through the entrance in a heartbeat.

Reena insisted on going after him to make sure he was ok, although Tallpaw couldn’t help suspecting he'd want to be alone, away from prying eyes idly observing his pain. It was hard to blame him for that.

Heatherstar eventually approached the small group and offered to keep vigil for her in the camp.

“Thank you for your kindness, Heatherstar,” Bess said quietly, “but we will find our own place. Wherever we bury her for her final sleep must be carefully chosen, and it can’t be here.”

They took several moments to rest before they attempted to carry her. Tallpaw spent a long while watching them silently grieve in their own way. Hen looked a bit like she was sleeping on her side, if it were not for the stiffness in her limbs, all the more noticeable when the visitors lifted her body between Algernon and Bess and slowly made their way out of camp. That unnerving scent he had smelled on her earlier came to him again. Unmistakably he knew it was the scent of death. Where would a cat go if they did not know their way to StarClan? Where was Hen now? Was she anywhere?

Tallpaw couldn't help the curiosity to look over the ridge around camp to see where the visitors were taking their friend. They were out of sight, but he did see Reena not too far off, looking around with her tail and ears drooping. Tallpaw felt an urge to approach her, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She caught his gaze and offered a small friendly blink that he took as a sign it was alright to come closer.

Tallpaw dipped his head. “I’m... really sorry about Hen. I’m sorry we couldn’t help.” It didn’t really feel like much, but it was the best he could think to offer.

“I believe that you all did what you could. I’m just glad she was with Mole at the end…" she said.

“Did you find Sparrow?”

Reena let out a small sigh “No. I suspect I won’t. He is good at not being found when he doesn’t wish to be. I’m terribly sorry for his outburst, he’s really a good cat deep down, but...this will hurt for some time. He'll find us himself when he’s ready. We won’t lay her body to rest until he does. Now that we have no reason to hurry, we will probably travel back south to the housefolk town for the cold seasons, give ourselves time to recover. We have friends there that will make finding shelter and safety easier.”

“Will you continue on your travels as you did before?” Tallpaw asked meekly. He didn’t have time to wonder if that was inappropriate to ask after he’d said it. He wasn’t sure the right way to navigate around this topic.

To his relief, Reena gave him a small smile. “We will, eventually. There was only one thing Hen ever asked of us, and that was for us to continue telling her stories after she was gone. It all started because of her, and she wanted nothing more than for it to outlive her. You know, I really am grateful we got to perform that story to you all. It was one of her favorites. So...Thank you for giving us a chance to tell it with her one last time.”

Tallpaw walked along with her for a short ways. He hadn’t planned on it, but it felt like the right thing to do as Reena spoke.

“I think we all knew Hen’s time with us was running short, even if we didn’t want to admit it. We hoped we’d be able to get her to the sea first.” Reena trailed off with a little sigh. “She was so excited to take Sparrow there. This would have been his first time. She was so much happier when we found him as a kit. Those two were closer than anything...We’re confident she will still travel with us, and we’ll guide her spirit home to the sea come next newleaf. She always believed we all end up where we are meant to be sooner or later, in this world or the next.” She paused, looking ahead to the far woods. “I should join my family now. I hope your clanmates will forgive us being a bit distant for a little while after all your hospitality...Thank you for walking with me.”

Reena touched his nose briefly and padded away. Tallpaw could only wish the strange cats well. Even when he couldn’t see them anymore, the image of Hen’s body unnerved him and lodged in his mind like a burr.

He had a memory that was perhaps not quite real before this moment, of a still body no bigger than a mouse lying close at his side, stiff and covered in that distinct scent of death. Death shouldn’t unsettle him as much as it did, but it made him feel terribly lonely. He wished he took comfort in the ghosts that Reena’s family believed in. To him, StarClan still felt so quiet and far away, if anything more of a stern distant force staring over his shoulder to judge whether or not he was behaving as a worthy descendant of his clan. Ultimately, this sadness wasn’t meant for him. He wasn’t a visitor, and he could not afford to dwell on grief like them. Not for cats, or kits, he never really knew.

The life of a warrior meant living alongside death closely, an unforgiving force that could strike the life from a cat that he’d known and walked with just days before. He knew it was something he should accept, and feel no fear towards. But Tallpaw still hoped in vain that he would not have to meet it again.

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#cw animal death #cw self loathing #FRU19 #chapter 19

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

An Iron Box - The Eternal Rocks

Apologies for the late update! My life has become a little hectic, so I haven’t been on Tumblr or AO3 as much. Hopefully I can make it up with new scenes that weren’t in AWIAF :)

If you’re still following this fic, thank you for reading. It means the world <3

The AO3 link is here if you prefer reading it on there.

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I had stumbled across the copy of Wuthering Heights shortly after becoming an executive member. When I first moved into my room, it was tucked away in a drawer, and judging by the curled pages coated with dust, it had been there a while. I’d never cared enough to discard it, nor had I cared enough to read it. Until now.

The noon sunshine filtered through the windows as I sat on my bed, legs stretched out and book in hand. So far, it was a trivial mess – a ditsy story of childhood friends turned teenage lovers. Of course, this was the kind of book she would read. And if she really did have a Masters degree in literature, chances are she had already read it.

Yesterday, when I was called to the meeting room, I had an inkling as to what the fuss was about. And sure enough, there she was, dragged in like a stray by Niragi of all people. What terrible luck.

Well, for her at least.

Things had panned out just as I expected. If only she had come with me when I’d asked, she wouldn’t have had to deal with Aguni’s militants. They had given me the whole rundown of her Eight of Hearts game... how she’d solved it a little too late... how she’d accidentally set herself up by mentioning my name.

And now, I finally knew her name.

After showing her to her new room yesterday, I’d rolled it over on my tongue, memorising the foreign feel of it, the way the vowels stretched and consonants collided. It suited her, in a way. However, it seemed it would be a while before I could call her by it. According to the grapevine, she had disappeared into her room and hadn’t been seen since.

This morning, when I went downstairs to get breakfast, my eyes had instinctively scanned the crowded room, hoping to catch a familiar doe-eyed stare. But she was nowhere to be found.

‘Who are you looking for?’

Kuina had appeared beside me, balancing a bowl of cereal in one hand.

‘Nobody,’ I told her.

She wagged her finger, and through a mouthful of cereal, insisted, ‘don’t even think about lying to me. I can read you pretty well by now.’

I tried to ignore her noisy chewing. ‘I met a girl in a game.’

Kuina had wiggled her eyebrows at this, and something inside me instantly turned cold. If she thought I was involved in a petty romance then she could think again. I had no interest, and besides, this was hardly the place.

‘I believe we can use her in the plan. Niragi brought her in after a game yesterday.’

‘And there I was thinking you actually had a heart, hm?’ Kuina paused, her spoon dangling between her fingers. ‘I did hear there was a new girl, but nobody’s spoken to her yet. Do you want me to try and talk to her?’

I had mulled it over, but there was no point in rushing things. There was every chance she would emerge in her own time. It was like tempting a frightened animal out of its den and straight into a snare.

‘Not just yet,’ I said. ‘Let her feel hungry.’

‘You think she’ll come down for lunch?’

I smiled. ‘Probably not. But she’ll be hungry enough that when you do pay her a visit, she’ll want to trust you.’ Surveying the busy room, I added. ‘Keep an eye on the rumours. If she doesn’t come down in a few hours, bring her some food.’

‘Why me?’ Kuina scowled. ‘Why can’t you do it?’

Surely the reason was obvious. ‘She’s here because of me. I’m the last person she wants to speak to.’

Kuina had looked uncertain. But she couldn’t argue against it; we both knew I was right.

Now, several hours later, the sun was sinking and Kuina was probably about to pay (name) a visit. But I would leave that up to her. If Kuina befriended her, she would be much more willing to join our plan. Stretching my legs, I focused on the page in front of me.

‘It’s about life and finding meaning and purpose in everything.’

Her words from the pharmacy. Even now, they still rang clearly, haunting every recess of my mind. I didn’t care about finding meaning in life. I didn’t care at all. But I was curious about her obsession with fiction and poetry. What was it that drew her to books?

What meaning does she see that I can’t?

My eyes landed on the words before me.

“My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.”

How could love be necessary? It wasn’t food or water. It couldn’t be quantified, had little value in life, and if anything, it was a weakness in the games. I had never once needed it myself, and here I was, still alive and breathing. The whole story was trivial, melodramatic and utterly pointless. And yet, my gaze was drawn to the next line and the next.

I suppose I could read it, even if only to ease this perpetual boredom.

“He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being—”

A bang rattled the windows as the door to my room flew open. Kuina was standing breathlessly in the doorway, that fake cigarette of hers clenched between her teeth.

‘You,’ she said, inviting herself in and moving towards the chest of drawers. ‘I need to borrow one of your hoodies.’

I flipped over to the next page. ‘Why?’

She yanked open each drawer one by one, plundering through the contents before slamming them shut. ‘I need a spare hoodie for (name). Or, you know, anything that’s not a string bikini.’

‘I see, so that’s why she was hiding.’ I smiled, eyes drifting over the page of my book. ‘What a stupid reason.’

Kuina glowered and jabbed a finger at me. ‘Oi, just because you’re too confident for your own good it doesn’t mean everyone else is. Tell me where your hoodies are now.’

I nodded at the cupboard. ‘The grey one on the left-hand side.’

She opened it up and pulled out the grey hoodie. Out of the three I owned this was the smallest. It was also the newest, having never been soiled by blood in a game before. ‘Are you sure?’

I shrugged and turned back to my book. ‘She can keep it.’

It may be useful to create a debt.

I expected Kuina to simply take the hoodie and leave me to read in peace. But she didn’t. She clenched the fabric in her fists, staring at it. Her jaw tightened around her plastic cigarette.

‘Chishiya, she’s nice. She’s really nice.’

‘Everyone’s nice until you pit them against each other.’

She grimaced, fingers gripping the hoodie. ‘I don’t think... she’s not like that. What did you have planned with her anyway?’

‘We need someone to find the safe where the cards are kept. A guinea pig, so to speak. I’m going to set her up and we’ll take advantage of the distraction.’

Kuina looked uncomfortable with the idea. ‘I’m just not sure about this.’

Sighing, I gave up trying to read and snapped the book shut. ‘If you’re not sure, then drop out. I’ll leave with the cards and you can stay right here.’

Of course, Kuina was smart enough to know what the Beach would descend into once it became apparent that the cards were missing. And if I went missing along with them, she would be the first person they’d turn to. Judging by the look on her face, she seemed to be thinking the same thing.

‘Fine,’ she agreed at last. ‘But of all the people to choose, she really doesn’t deserve this.’

I smiled, thinking back to Niragi’s overdramatic retelling of their game. Apparently, it was a game of laser tag with handguns. She had shot a teenage girl in the chest and emerged without a scratch.

‘Perhaps you’ll think differently if you see her in a Hearts game,’ I said. ‘It’s human nature to be selfish.’

It’s human nature to kill in order to survive.

With a small hiss of disapproval, Kuina trailed out of the room and left me alone, taking the grey hoodie with her.

Finally.

Picking up the book once more, I scanned over the words on the page. The entire plot made no sense. Cathy’s choice was obvious right from the beginning – Linton offered protection and financial security. It was everything she needed to live comfortably, so what was the issue? Why would a person be so caught up just because of a childhood sweetheart? Heathcliff was equally as ridiculous, running away like a brat just because she said a few words behind his back. This was a book for naïve idiots.

No wonder she likes it.

And yet, I read and read until the sun slunk behind the skyline, the darkness creeping in slowly through the curtains until it became too dark to read. I could have easily turned on the bedside lamp and continued, but perhaps it was time to see how things were going with Kuina and (name).

The sooner they were friends, the easier this would become.

Getting up, I left my room and headed downstairs. It was right before the games began – the time when the Beach was at its most lively, and everyone was busy living in the moment just in case these turned out to be their final moments.

I passed by a couple furiously groping one another behind a pillar.

People are all the same.

Stepping outside onto the patio, I scanned the throngs of drunken idiots stumbling around in a haze of skin, sex and drugs. And then I caught a glimpse of that familiar face, standing by the bar and dressed in my hoodie. A man was beside her.

And you are just like them.

For a moment, I simply watched on as the man – one of Niragi’s troupe – tried to make conversation with her. Considering the sheer volume of the music and her self-taught Japanese, I wondered if she understood him. Taking her drink from the bartender, she smiled and said something undecipherable before taking a step away.

Bad move. A gun glinted, pressing into her side.

Oh?

The look on her face told me everything. She wasn’t flirting with him after all. And now it was all too clear what this man wanted from her.

Such an unpleasant welcome.

Perhaps I should have just left her to it, since this was the true face of the Beach, the drop of cold hard reality hidden behind the façade of a utopia. Perhaps I should have her deal with the situation on her own, for better or worse. But how could I? This was a perfect opportunity to regain her trust.

I sidled up to the bar, glancing between the half-drunken idiot and (name), who was standing there wavering like a ghost. Her expression was detached yet poised, like a rabbit on the verge of fleeing. But she couldn’t – not with the hand wrapped around her wrist and the pistol set just below her ribs.

‘What’s this?’ I leaned against the countertop. ‘I see you’ve met our newest member.’

(Name) blinked, only just noticing my presence. I glanced down at the pistol, the barrel half-hidden in the fabric of her hoodie. My hoodie.

‘You should probably put that thing away. Hatter won’t be too happy if you start messing with her. He’s got high expectations of her.’

The militant only pushed the gun further into her torso, standing up straighter in a useless attempt at intimidating me. ‘You know, Chishiya, I’m pretty sick of you interfering all the time. You should stay out of militant business.’

I almost smiled. This man wasn’t even an executive member. ‘Militant business,’ I said slowly. ‘It’s fascinating what you guys do. You take out the trash and dish out the sentence, but you never check the evidence.’

He bristled, his finger tightening over the trigger. ‘What the hell are you talking about? Just shut up and stay out of this.’

Typical. Do I have to spell things out to everyone?

‘What I’m saying,’ I replied, ‘is that you never bother checking to see if the ‘traitors’ are actually traitors. It’s surprisingly easy to slip a few cards into someone else’s room.’

I met his gaze pointedly, watching as he finally started to come to an understanding. He squeezed (name’s) wrist until her fingers blotched white and purple, before finally letting go.

Pushing his face close to mine, he whispered a slurred mess that sounded a lot like ‘threaten me again and I’ll end you’, before striding off into the crowd. It wasn’t much of a threat, coming from someone who couldn’t quite walk in a straight line. But no matter, I wasn’t here for him.

I was vaguely aware of (name) watching me as I turned back to the bar. The bartender was wiping glasses, unbothered by what had just happened. He saw worse every day.

‘お水をください,’ I said. Water, please.

A glass was placed in front of me, and I calmly sipped my water, waiting patiently for the inevitable. About now, she was probably itching to thank me, but wondering how best to do it. An over-thinker, that’s what she was.

When she finally spoke, it was so quiet I could have easily missed it, if only I hadn’t been expecting it. ‘Thanks... I’m guessing stuff like that’s pretty common around here.’

You catch on fast.

‘Well, there are only three rules,’ I said, assessing the grey hoodie. It had been slightly too small on me but was oversized on her. ‘Right now, you’re not allowed to go roaming the city alone because you’re still new, and that makes you a liability. But the next time you’re in a game, you’ll be paired with one of the executives, or someone else with a high rank. If you ask, they’ll go with you to find new clothes.’

She looked mildly surprised. Had Kuina not mentioned that it was mine? If so, I wonder how she would react once she found out. Perhaps this was a tidbit of information I should keep to myself for now.

Speaking of Kuina, I could see her now, watching me nervously through the crowds from a recliner on the other side of the patio.

‘Of all the people to choose, she really doesn’t deserve this.’

Perhaps not. But that’s what made her perfect for the job.

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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babineni · 3 years

Text

A Night Out in Dyrford

A little something something about a certain farmer becoming a mayor and how that complicated his relationship with his best friend.

Roughly 2500 words, cw for violence ending in beheading

"Dear Gaura"

Edér read the words over and over. Something didn't feel right about them, and he didn't even write anything worth writing yet. A single drop of ink dripped off his quill while he pondered how to continue. He sighed as he ripped a strip off the top of the page. He didn't have a whole lot of blank sheets of paper and he had no idea where to get any in Dyrford. Yet. It's only been a day since he arrived after all.

The Watcher was so much better at this, he mused. Edér looked at the page again.

"Miss having you around. I'll see you soon, I promise."

Now, he ruined the page. The farmer crumpled the sheet as if he could squeeze the thought out of his head. Not that there was anything wrong with such thoughts, he reassured himself, but he couldn't just put something like that on paper and have it sent to a friend. She might get the wrong idea. Edér tossed the tiny ball of paper over his shoulder. A second later he groaned as he stood up to clear it up. He couldn't just mess up a rented room like that.

A rented room. That was a decent place to start, he thought as he sat down again and took out a new, empty page.

"Gaura,

Just letting you know, I didn't go back to Gilded Vale so don't send any letters there. I'm in Dyrford now, I'm thinking about moving here. I got the sense I could help out around here, be of use, all that. And folks around here have been real friendly towards me so far. Reckon they remember us passing through. The mayor invited me over for dinner."

Me, he thought to himself and a chuckle bubbled up from him. He wasn't sure what to make of his situation. He wasn't used to being wanted around. At least not by anyone other than the Watcher. He liked the feeling.

"Willing to bet he'll try to get me to stick around. I'm thinking I'll play hard to get, but I do want to stay. We'll be basically neighbors. So don't think you're rid of me, just 'cause I left. I'm still around, I'll visit as soon as I'm able. And you better come over too."

Edér nodded at the letter in satisfaction. That will do.

"See you, when I see you,

Edér"

The farmer folded the page and a moment later he realized he didn't have any sealing wax. He shrugged. It's not like he could send it before morning, anyway, so it became a problem for tomorrow. That night's problem was the dinner. Edér wasn't sure how to present himself, not that he had a lot of options on that front. He didn't take most of the things the Watcher pampered him with. He could only hope she didn't take it as an offense that he left her gifts behind. It's bad enough he walked away from her. But what was he supposed to do? She became the Lady of Caed Nua, and Caed Nua became one suffocatingly fancy place. It was just like Gilded Vale - a home turning into... something else - something alien - right before his eyes. Except no one would have hurt him in Caed Nua, and knowing the Watcher, she would have let him live there however he wished to live. And he had a purpose now, one that lead him away from Caed Nua. He just wished he could've gone about his departure in a way that wasn't unfair to Gaura. She deserved better.

His old armor would do, he came to the conclusion. It always was lucky in a way, not that he needed luck, but it couldn't hurt. Edér lit his pipe and opened his windows, once he felt ready to go. He watched the smoke leave through the window and be carried away by a breeze. It was blowing towards Caed Nua. He glanced at the letter on his desk and made a mental note to ask around for messengers, as he put the pipe away a few minutes later.

By the time Edér left the Dracogen Inn, the sun was already setting. The mayor didn't live far from the town square, luckily, and the farmer got there in no time, and yet his host was already waiting for him by the door. He looked pale and a little anxious.

'Sorry for being late,' Edér couldn't help but apologize seeing the mayor's sorry state.

He, however, only blinked in confusion. 'No need, you're just in time,' he offered his hand with a strained smile.

'Happy to be here, if that's the case,' Edér shook the mayor's hand. He had quite the grip, he noted. His eyes probably just played tricks on hím.

'It will be just the two of us, if you don't mind,' the mayor said as he ushered him in. 'Wife's visiting relatives in Eina's Rest, dragged the kids along. So you'll have to bear with my cooking.'

Edér chuckled. 'Can't be worse than my own cooking and I've been eating that crap for years.'

The mayor's house was more spacious than Edér expected. It had an upper floor and there were no rooms on the ground floor, just a kitchen, the hearth and a rather long table with plates prepared on each end. And yet there was also something about the place that made the farmer feel like the walls would close around him if he stayed in there too long. Still, he took the seat the mayor pointed to and said nothing when the mayor came to fill his cup with beer that had a strangely red-ish hue.

'It's from Dengler's reserves, beer made of strawberries and wheat'

'That's real kind of you, thanks,' Edér shuffled awkwardly in his seat. He didn't expect any sort of fuss around him and could only hope things wouldn't escalate beyond the fancy beer and the Pearlwood chicken on his plate.

'The last time you were here, you helped out quite a lot around here. This is the least I could do to welcome you back,' the mayor made his way to the end of the table and sat down as well. He poured himself a drink as well, and drank it in a few gulps. 'Sorry, cooking got me feeling real parched.'

Edér drank from the beer for courtesy's sake. 'Don't be. There was really no need for your trouble. I'm really just here looking for work and lodging. Like most folk coming here, I assume.'

'Most folk coming here didn't take part in ending Waidwen's Legacy. Really, the honor is mine.'

'Mine was a pretty small part,' Edér's fingers lightly drummed by the fork in front of him. 'The Watcher did all the important bits, I just stood between her and everyone coming at her mostly.'

'I imagine she had quite a few folk coming at her. I heard some... troubling things about her last visit here.'

The farmer tried to forget about that particular memory. He emptied his cup, hoping that the beer going down his throat would drown the disgust turning into nausea in his belly. The shadows in the room seemed suddenly very long in the last rays of the sun.

'Yeah, she's got a knack for tangling with cults,' Edér chuckled. 'Remind me to tell you about our trip to the White March.'

'You really make it sound like standing between her and her enemies was quite the part to play,' the mayor let out a vaguely bitter laugh. 'Sure hope you got paid handsomely.'

'It ain't ever been about the money,' Edér picked up the utensils and was about to cut into the chicken when he realized he wasn't really hungry. He noticed the mayor hasn't touched his dish either. It was already dark outside and the room looked a lot smaller than when he entered it. At the other end of the table his host gave him a knowing nod.

'And yet you're here, looking for work and lodging.'

'Reckoned I'd be more useful here than in Caed Nua,' the knife in Edér's hand felt almost comforting to him.

'So there's no bad blood between you two, that is good to know. Good on you, son,' the mayor filled his cup again and raised it to Edér, a grin growing wide on his face. 'To your friendship with the Watcher.'

At that moment, the farmer realized why the room felt as crammed as it did: as he looked over the mayor's shoulder, he noticed an axe by the hearth; as he looked to the window, he noticed a garden hoe resting against the windowsill; and of course there was the pitchfork right by the door, just waiting to find its proper place in someone's chest. Completely ordinary things in a completely ordinary house in a completely ordinary village. Dyrford already felt like home. Edér let out a hearty laugh as he stood up.

'Can't really drink to that,' he said. 'My cup's running dry.'

'Well, why didn't you say so?' The mayor stayed seated. If Edér had to guess, he was going to grab the axe the moment he turned his back to him.

'Guess our conversation was just that godsdamned riveting.'

For a moment he and the mayor eyed each other in silence. Then the moment passed, and Edér dashed for the door. He grabbed the pitchfork and without looking, he ducked. He heard a swing going for the spot where his head was a fraction of a moment before. Edér turned around just in time to block the second swing coming at him - and the garden hoe got stuck between the tines of the fork. Edér couldn't help but scoff in surprise. He pulled the pitchfork to the side, dragging the hoe and the mayor at its end along, creating the perfect opening. The farmer landed a blow on the mayor's ribs, drawing a stifled grunt out of him but just as he lifted his fist for a second hit, the mayor dropped their interlocked weapons and lunged straight for Edér's throat. His momentum pushed the farmer against the door. Dull pain bloomed on the back of his head where it hit the door, fuelling a rage burning in Edér's veins. He twisted the hands off his neck until he heard joints cracking and cries of pain, then he slammed his head in the mayor's. The force of his strike sent the mayor staggering back against the table.

Edér could've turned and ran. The mayor could've grabbed a knife from the table and lunged at him again. And yet, both their gazes darted to the axe by the hearth. If only the Watcher were there, Edér thought just as he ran towards his goal, she could've made him faster. But as it were, the mayor threw himself at the axe, and while he may have been on the floor he held on to it firmly. Edér got there a moment later and barely stopped himself from crashing into the weapon held out at him. The farmer grabbed it instead and pulled. Then pulled again. But the mayor held on to the axe for dear life. Edér then twisted the axe downwards instead, leveraging every muscle in his body, and pushed with all the strength he had.

The next thing he knew, he was covered in the mayor's blood. The axe went right through his neck.

'Shit,' Edér muttered as the realization dawned on him: he just murdered the mayor of his would-be new hometown. His legs shook as he made his way to the table and emptied the mayor's glass that he raised to his friendship with Gaura. If only she were there, she would know just the right thing to say to save him from this mess. He sighed. As he walked to the door it felt awfully far away.

Edér wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the door. He certainly didn't expect a crowd gathering in front of the house, staring at him wide-eyed. It was only then that he realized he was still holding the axe. He dropped it hurriedly as he raised his palms.

'I can explain.'

But before he could say anything, Dengler, the innkeeper pushed past the crowd and looked him over. When he saw the blood wasn't his, he pushed past the farmer as well, and into the house. He came back out with the mayor's head.

'The mayor's dead!' He held up the head and Edér was almost certain he was doomed. But in the next moment he saw something completely unexpected: relief washing over the crowd.

'The Twinned God blessed us today!' He heard a voice cry out in joy.

'Bless you, stranger, bless you!'

More and more voices joined into one bizarre, celebratory cacophony, that Edér couldn't process, but it became clearer with every passing moment that these people were terrified of their cultist neighbors and that he was needed here.

'Wait, who will lead the town now?' A question arose in the joyful chaos, and it quickly silenced the crowd. Edér stood stunned as gradually more and more gazes fell upon him, questioning him, pleading to him...

'If you want... Uh... I could give it a go.'

A moment of silence followed his offer, then another question came.

'What's your name?'

An awkward laugh burst out of Edér. What was he thinking? These people didn't know him, they may be grateful but who would trust a stranger with the responsibility of running their hometown?

'I'm Edér,' he answered regardless.

'Gods bless Mayor Edér!'

And the celebrations continued. Edér felt Dengler's hand on his back guiding him away from the mayor's - former mayor's - house and towards the inn.

'Needless to say, your room is on me until we get you a proper house,' he said as he opened the inn for the crowd and for the new guest of honor.

Edér muttered a thanks and did his best to slip away to his room quietly. He left his window open, he realized and the evening breeze was now caressing the letter he wrote not so long ago. It ended up on the floor while he was away and it was now bathed in the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

"See you, when I see you"

It felt like a lifetime ago that he wrote those words. The excitement he felt then felt foolish now. The mayor was awfully interested in the Watcher and the relationship he had with her. Edér knew he wasn't his real target. All those months ago when they first came to Dyrford, that girl they saved wasn't the Skeanites' real target either. He sighed as he reached for the letter and took it to his desk. He lit a candle and fed the sheet of paper to the tiny flame. The smoke stung his eyes.

It took him some time to finally clean up and go to bed, but when he did, Edér was overcome with a sense of loneliness he hasn't felt in a long time. He fell asleep holding onto a crumpled piece of paper that he couldn't bring himself to burn. He liked the thoughts it contained.

"Miss having you around. I'll see you soon, I promise."

#pillars of eternity #edér teylecg #Wrytinge™#i couldn't sleep until i finished this idk what spelling is anymore

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