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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

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Ghosts Still Have Souls

Pairings: Luke x Reader, mentions of Willex

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none?

Summary: For his whole life Luke Patterson had anxiously awaited the day he’d meet his soulmate, and then he died. 25 years later he and his bandmates are mysteriously resurrected and Luke’s hopes return. Could he find his soulmate in death? After all, Willie says ghosts still have souls.

A/N: it took me all day but here is my submission for Day 2 - AU for @jatp-week JATP appreciation celebration. I’m such a sucker for soulmate aus and I haven’t written any in the JATP universe yet so this was the perfect opportunity! Send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in any future works and as always, let me know what you think!

Masterlist

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Luke Patterson had always loved the idea of soulmates. When he was a little boy his parents would regale him with the story of how they met. They ran into each other on the quad at their university, his mom knocked to the ground and his dad dropping his books. In her flustered state Emily had combined “Hey, watch where you’re going!” with “Are you okay?” and ended up crying out “Hey, watch where you’re okay!” while his dad had cursed “Shitfuck, are you okay?” When Mitch offered his hand to help her up they noticed each others’ tattoos and the rest was history.

It was Luke’s favorite story in the whole world and he grew up daydreaming about the day he’d meet his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to see what words would appear on his skin when he or she said their first words to him. He wondered if he’d feel the tingle that some reported feeling when the mark formed on their skin, or what the handwriting of his soulmate would look like permanently inked onto this skin. No matter what he knew he’d cherish the mark, it would be from his soulmate, after all, his other half, the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

Dying before he could hear the words that would change his life forever kinda threw a wrench in his plans.

The thought of his soulmate out there, having grown up without him, never to meet each other because of his untimely death had plagued him for days after Julie “resurrected” them. Then Alex had met Willie. The skater ghost had died more nearly a decade before they had and yet he and Alex were soulmates, “You dinged my board.” proudly displayed on the blond’s wrist.

The knowledge that soulmates existed even in death had brought hope back into his life and he started spending his free time daydreaming about them again.

He’d been channeling his daydreams into songwriting one afternoon when Julie had walked into the garage with Flynn and another friend. He assumed you hadn’t been informed about the ghosts as neither Flynn nor Julie made any remarks towards the guitarist despite typically doing so. He wished that wasn’t the case as you were quite cute. You were absolutely the type of girl Luke would’ve crushed on hard back when he was alive, soulmates or not.

“Oh, and who is this?” Luke asked, employing his teasing tone as he spoke to the newcomer as you set down your backpack though he knew only Julie could hear him.

He had expected a quiet laugh or at the very least a dramatic eye roll from the girl but when he turned to look at her she was staring at her friend’s wrist. Luke turned to look as well and his stomach immediately sank.

There inked on your wrist in his chicken-scratch handwriting were the words he had just spoken to you.

“Oh my gosh,” Julie gasped aloud, drawing everyone’s attention as she opened her mouth to announce what she had just observed.

Before he even had time to think about it, he was stopping her. “No! Julie don’t!”

She stared at him puzzled for a moment but closed her mouth anyway.

“What?” Her friend asked, looking at her perplexed.

“I just… forgot to tell my dad you guys were coming over,” Julie saved. “I’ll just text him real quick.”

You and Flynn nodded, unfazed by the excuse, and plopped down onto the available seating. Luke sighed, pulling his eyes away from you and poofing out of the garage.

He reappeared at his parent’s house. He had hoped to vent to his mom but she wasn’t home so he plopped down on his old bed. His parents hadn’t done much to the room since his death and as he laid there in silence it almost felt like it was still ’95. That pit that had started to form in his stomach continued to grow as he laid there, his thoughts swirling as his hopes thrashed around him once more.

He’d finally found his soulmate but she was- what had Alex called them?- a lifer. She couldn’t even see him. How were they supposed to meet and fall in love and build a life together when she couldn’t even see him and he couldn’t even touch her? How were they supposed to pass their story on to their future kids when she hadn’t even been able to hear the words that were now permanently etched into her skin? As he thought more about it he realized that he hadn’t received a mark of his own. His heart sank as he ran his thumb over the bare skin of his wrist. He’d stopped Julie before she could tell her he was even there so she’d never had a chance to say her first words to him.

It was worth it, he decided after a while. It was worth never hearing the words, never having the tattoo and knowing for certain that his perfect match was out there. It was worth it if he could spare you from the pain of knowing that your soulmate was there but he was dead and invisible.

___

Luke was almost grateful for the distraction of the Hollywood Ghost Club. The last few weeks had been torture, him constantly trying to avoid being in the same room with you and Julie. She had told you about them being ghosts not long after the appearance of your soulmark and had even invited you to meet the band which you had readily accepted. Luke, however, had run away before you could come that day. It killed him that you had met Alex and Reggie and not him, but he figured it would kill him more to have your first words to him appear on his wrist.

They talked about you sometimes, about how funny and adorable you were. It made his blood boil but he had to restrain himself, what right did he have to be jealous when he refused to even meet you.

Still, the rush to book the Orpheum was a welcome distraction from his internal turmoil. It was even enough to distract him from the fact that no matter what happened at the end of the night, he’d never see you again.

He’d miss you. That much was obvious. He’d miss hiding in the loft when you came over to work on homework with Julie, just out of sight so Julie wouldn’t see him but he could still watch you. He’d learned a lot about you that way, how your smile could light up a room, how gorgeous your laugh was but he could tell you hated it by the way you covered your mouth when you did it, how you fidgeted with the hair ties on your wrist whenever you were thinking (he noticed you always had at least two), and that you were almost always cold. He wished he could give you his flannels, you’d look so cute wrapped up in them and they’d certainly keep you warm.

He was thinking of you as he and the guys gathered around the piano in the studio. Julie had just left to head to the Orpheum with her dad and the mood in the garage had immediately grown somber. Their heads filled with worries of what would come next, what was on the other side? Luke’s only comfort was the thought that maybe if he crossed over you’d get a second chance at a soulmate, one who was alive. You’d never even spoken to him and yet he’d do anything for you.

It was that dedication to you that had pulled him out of the Hollywood Ghost Club and onto the Orpheum stage.

It was that dedication that kept him from running straight to Caleb to save his soul when they didn’t cross over. He’d let his soul be destroyed if it meant your happiness.

He never could’ve anticipated what had happened that night nor the repercussions.

He’d spent the next day journaling, writing down all his thoughts- and there were a lot seeing as he had expected to die yesterday, again. He was alone in the studio, Alex out celebrating with Willie and Reggie was who knows where (probably showing Ray like usual), then you walked in.

He sighed, getting ready to poof up to his hiding spot in the loft before Julie showed up when he was stopped.

“Am I dead?” You asked, staring at him in alarm.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked warily, not understanding the premise of your question.

“Well, you’re dead, and with the exception of Julie, you’re only visible to other dead people and I can see you,” you explained carefully, eyes wide.

Luke nodded at your train of thought before it hit him.

“Wait, you can see me?” He gasped, and you nodded. “You can see me! You talked to me!”

His head snapped down to stare at his wrist, sure enough, “Am I Dead?” was scrawled across his skin in the most beautiful handwriting he’d ever seen. Sure, some might say it was a little messy but to him it was perfect.

Before he could even think about his actions, he was rushing towards you and pulling you into his chest. You stiffened, shocked by the sudden action.

“What’re you-“ started to ask but you were cut off by him violently throwing himself away from you.

“I just touched you,” he gasped, once again stating the obvious. “Why can I touch you? Are you dead?”

“No! At least… I didn’t think I was but now I’m really not sure.” You shook your hands anxiously before reaching for one of your hair ties as you started pacing.

“Sorry for taking so long Y/N, I got caught up with Reggie in the house- what on earth is going on in here?” Julie paused in the doorway as she observed your pacing and Luke’s panicked look.

“Oh thank god, you can see me,” You breathe out before turning to Luke, “Julie can see me, so I must not be dead.”

“What?”

“Y/N and I thought maybe she was dead since she can see me and I could touch her,” Luke explained and you nodded.

“What?!” Julie repeated, more shocked than the last time. “You can see him? And you, you can touch her?”

“Yeah, look!” Luke exclaimed, reaching his arm out to tap your arm but it just went right through you. “Huh, why…?”

“Maybe the first time was a fluke?” You supplied before something caught your eye.

You reached out to grab his arm as it fell back to his side. This time it worked, and you pulled his limb closer to you, turning it over to examine what you had seen.

“Woah, see?” Luke said pointedly to Julie, though you weren’t listening.

“That’s- how? You’re-“ you sputtered as you stared at the mark on his wrist. “Soulmates.” You whispered finally.

“Um, I’m gonna give you guys some time,” Julie said, eyes wide as she walked backward out of the garage.

You didn’t let go of his wrist, your eyes flitting between your words and his eyes.

“That’s why I didn’t hear them,” you muttered, bringing your own wrist next to his.

It had been puzzling you for weeks, how you couldn’t remember hearing the words the day they had appeared on your wrist. It made sense now, you couldn’t hear them because Luke had said them.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, dropping his wrist from your grasp. “I thought maybe if you didn’t know you could find happiness somewhere else. With someone who wasn’t invisible and intangible.”

Your gaze softened as you looked up at him, his face was tilted down, unable to look you in the eye. You sighed, taking a deep breath before reaching your hand up to cup the side of his face. It took a couple of tries but you were finally able to place your hand on his cheek, tilting his face to look up at you.

“Luke,” you said softly, “How could I want anyone else?”

He shook his head at your words, though his hand came up to rest over your own. “How could you know that? This is the first time we’ve ever spoken.”

“Because the universe put us together,” you answered surely, bringing your wrists together again in the space between you. “I have no idea how this is going to work but I know it’ll be worth it because these mean we’re meant for each other.”

“You are better than I could ever imagine,” Luke confessed softly, and you smiled shyly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Well you’re stuck with me now,” you joked lightly, before pulling him to the couch. “Now c’mon soulmate, we’ve got some catching up to do.”

#jatpweek #jatp fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp #jatp luke #luke patterson fic #willex #willie jatp #alex mercer #reggie peters #julie molina #sunset curve #soulmate au

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jjyusmile · 4 years

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room for one more? | lee juyeon

lee juyeon | room for one more?

pairing: lee juyeon x {gender-neutral} reader!

word count: 5k

notes: this is the kinda fluff that everyone wants, be prepared. a smidgen of angst bc why not and also slightly suggestive but we don’t get into the ~hmm hmm~ if you know what I mean? lee juyeon holds a massive spot in my heart and i wanna show how goddamn great he is in my mind so here ya go.

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The wind slowly brush your hair across your face with another gust setting it back into place – you were content. Every summer your family came down to the beach for a weekend of camping. An annual tradition. A tradition that slowly turned from thirteen families coming together for a weekend, to just you and your twelve friends for a night by the beach. You were around 17 when your parents stopped tagging along, with the boys’ parents slowly following suit. You didn’t mind so much though; some thought you were strange to hang out with twelve boys, but they were like brothers to you. Except one…

The crackling of the fire brought you back to reality, as tusks of smoke gradually rose from the open flame. Younghoon and Sangyeon were chopping vegetables and grilling meat, the smell made your mouth water as you swigged from your cup to fill the empty void in your stomach. It didn’t take long for Hyunjae to continue filling your cup further from the crate of beer he’d gotten from his uncle as a graduation present. This was the second year that your parents hadn’t joined; last year, you had gotten quite carried away with the strength of your alcohol tolerance, as Hyunjae loved to remind you.

“You don’t need to fill it up you know, I can barely get two sips in before its filled to the top again” you grumbled, holding back a smile at his cheeky grin.

His hand slowly retreated away from your cup. “Sorry, cupcake. Or should I start to call you Budweiser – King of Beers?” he retorted, his eyebrow lifting to taunt you further.

Hyunjae had called you cupcake ever since he and his mother found you hiding in their pantry at his 7th birthday party, icing smeared around your mouth reinforcing the evidence at the scene of the crime. You huffed and shoved his shoulder – he began to lose his balance and fell off the log backwards from where you were both perched on it. Your laughter filled the small area that you and the boys occupied, a sound unbeknownst to said boys. Except one…

You could feel his gaze, as he sat beside Sunwoo, humming along to the inaudible song he was practicing on his guitar. You turned to meet his gaze, which he quickly dodged and turned his attention back to the instrument in his hand.

Oh, Juyeon… You kept your gaze on him just for a moment longer than usual. His hair glistened ever so slightly under his cap in the light from the flame. You were sat directly opposite him, a prime position for the attention you hoped from him, but never got.

Your heart swelled a little, knowing that he had been looking, but gradually deepened once more when you realized he never actually wanted to be caught. The weight of the log shifted as a figure occupied the space that Hyunjae had just fallen from. You turned to face Changmin, who returned your gaze with a knowing look. He knew how you felt, he was the only one who you had spoken to about Juyeon. About how frustrating it was that the boy who used to sneak into your tent as his parents fought would now avoid you like the plague.

You were close to each of the boys, but Juyeon and Changmin held a special place in your heart. Their own life-long friendship didn’t mind being interrupted when you entered the classroom as the new student with no friends. Walking into your new class, your slightly discoloured dungarees and Power Rangers lunch box in hand made the girls turn away from you – you didn’t fit in with them, at all. But the empty space on the table with those two boys, at the back of the classroom, opened your heart to realise there was good in the world for a six-year-old. They were your first friends, and that held so much importance for you. This feeling was confirmed, 13 years later, by the slight nudge of Changmin’s shoulder onto yours, followed by a sip from his own cup.

“You know,” he began… “you can always approach him.” His eyes reflected in the orange flickers too; if you weren’t his best friend and subsequent pain in the ass, you probably would’ve fallen for him. His shy smile but courageous personality shone like the stars in the sky. You smiled at him gratefully, with a nod of acknowledgement, but not necessarily understanding. You knew you could approach him, you’ve known that for the last year or so that Juyeon started to avoid one-on-one interaction with you. It began when your Friday night sleepovers turned into just Changmin turning up at your doorstep with the latest horror movie he could find and a tray of freshly baked cupcakes, courtesy of Hyunjae’s mum, Mrs. Lee.

Sighing, you stood from your crouched position by the fire pit announcing that you’d just be a minute, before heading the opposite direction to the commotion you could hear near the tents. Changmin went back to helping the rest of the boys put up their temporary homes for the night, and you followed the shore to a quiet spot where you could watch the sunset. You could feel a particular set of eyes on you once more, but you were too tired to do anything about it. If he wanted to interact with you, he’d have to do it himself.

A cluster of rocks was placed perfectly in the sand for you to perch on as the sun turned the sky from a luminous orange to a dusty rose with stars randomly sparking across the skyline. You took your phone out of the kangaroo pouch of your hoodie to play some music, but halted at your lock screen. Your favourite smiles looked back at you as the picture of Juyeon and Changmin appeared – their eyes crinkled like crescent moons with their smiles wide, standing in front of the scary ride they had just pledged to go on at the funfair. This picture meant more to you than any other, because an excitable Changmin’s attention was on the ride itself, but Juyeon was focused on the person who took the picture. Your heart swelled again – a little more this time at the fond memory of your trip to the fair. You quickly locked the phone again before you let your emotions get to you. The boys cared about you a lot, and automatically knew when you had cried from the puffiness of your eyes and blotchy cheeks.

The faint sound of Sangyeon’s call for food grabbed your attention, and you realized time had passed quickly. You were sat alone staring at the sky, with a fond memory but heavy heart. You knew you didn’t have a shot at grabbing the food you wanted as the boys crowded around the make shift food table like scavenges, as you approached the table you were proved right. But your longing and heavy heart meant that you didn’t have the energy to care. Changmin reached over and placed a chicken thigh on your plate with a big smile that washed away some of your heavy emotion; you returned the smile thankfully and scooped the last of the rice onto your plate and grabbed the final pair of chopsticks that remained. You saw the boys munching on the corn on the cobs that you brought specifically for yourself, but again, you didn’t have much energy despite Changmin’s attempts. They were your favourite, but it was your own fault for walking away from these demanding and ravenous boys.

You took your spot next to Changmin once more. He and Chanhee were arguing over which part of the chicken tasted the best, an argument they’ve pondered many times. Their light-hearted attempt to spark conversation with the group distracted you for a moment. But the sudden weight that made its way onto your plate grabbed your attention. A perfectly charred corn, exactly how you liked it. You were quick enough to catch the figure that continued their route behind you, too familiar for you not to recognise. But Juyeon sat back in his spot and pretended like nothing had happened. But it did happen, and that’s what confused you the most.

With your attention captured, the content of your plate was left long enough to go cold. The change in the sky made the flames enhance the melanin of his skin that made you want to stick your finger in it. The way his oversized grey t-shirt rose a little as he sipped at the beer Sunwoo had passed to him, and the way his baseball cap was angled slightly that caused a shadow on his jawline was too much to ignore. It took a few moments for him to notice you staring, by that time his stare was just as intimidating – you wondered whether you should have chosen a nicer top and fluffy beige cardigan that you originally picked over the oversized sweatshirt and jeans you threw on moments before Hyunjae had picked you up. His stare softened slightly, a moment that went unnoticed by you - it seems you forgot that the oversized jumper you were wearing was the hoodie that Juyeon thought he had lost. Luckily, his growing smile was overshadowed by his cap once more as he turned away from you.

The conversation beside you was getting more intense, but you stared back at the contents of your plate. What does this mean?

The thought didn’t leave you for hours. You had said goodnight to the boys just after midnight, ensuring to avoid any eye contact with the one that was clouding your mind at this very moment. Changmin followed you to your tent to make sure you were okay.

“It definitely wasn’t the chicken, right? I told Chanhee that the thigh was the best part but I can’t win this argument if it made you sick!” His doe eyes concluded that as joking as he sounded, he was absolutely serious about his argument.

You chuckled lightly. “I’m okay, I promise.” Your small smile brought a wave of relief over Changmin. It warmed your heart to know how much he cared about you, and you hoped he knew it was reciprocated. Reaching over to kiss his cheek, you hugged him tighter than normal. “I love you, Q-t. Thank you for taking care of me.”

The slight tinge of his ears made both of you giggle, with his hands flying to cover the evidence. But his smile told you that he loved you too.

The noise outside of your tent began to quiet as Changmin made his way back to the fire pit, whilst giving out to Hyunjae’s “mWOHASEYO?!” that could have been heard across the ocean. These boys would be the death of you, but you wouldn’t replace them for the world.

You had taken your parents double sleeping bag this year, as your single one made you feel trapped despite the size of the three-person tent. After changing into your bicycle shorts and baggy shirt, you snuggle into the covers as the rain began to fall, splatters echoing across the outside of your tent. The squeal of Changmin told you that the boys were getting soaked and you did nothing but laugh at their misery. The bustling outside of your tent made you forget about your worries for the time being, as the calmness of the rain filled your ears. Hyungseo, Joonyoung were shouting for Youngjae to grab more beers beside your tent as they made their way into their own. You knew somewhere that Hyunjoon, Haknyeon and Chanhee were squealing just as loud as Changmin as their clothes got drenched.

Speak of the devil, Changmin’s shadow came toward your tent looking for a haven. The quickness of the zip made you sit up and shift the sleeping bag and your belongings that scattered across the tent so that you could make room. As he stepped into the tent, you continued your task, but played with a threatening tone. “I swear to god, Q, if you even get a single droplet of water on me or my side, I will absolutely, one hundred percent chop off your –“

“Room for one more?”

Your eyes snapped up in shock. You were met with melting brown ones that you wish you could forget

Closing the zipper to hide from the rain, Juyeon’s eye line slowly levelled with yours, a small smile on his face. Your breath hitched in your throat. The look of fear in your eyes made his grin disappear, replacing his once happy expression with a look of concern.

“You – How? – Why are you here, Juyeon? Don’t you have your own tent?” You hated how you stuttered. The habit you had gotten out of when you hit puberty only returned when you were nervous. A complete giveaway to the person you were trying to appear stern towards.

That moment, his eyes flickered everywhere that wasn’t your face as he rambled that “Sunwoo left the zipper open and the rain flooded our tent. He’s hopped in with Sangyeon and Hoon. But there was no room anywhere else. I can go and ask Changmin or Hyunjoon if they want to sleep here instead. I – I’m sorry if –” The faltering noise in your throat made him stop his muttering and look you in the eye once more.

“No – uh, it’s okay. There’s enough room, I guess. I only have one sleeping bag but I guess if we open it up it can reach over to the other side of the tent…” you stammered. This was not how you had planned to talk to him for the first time in a year. You thought you’d be screaming, crying, defeated. This was much different – but you took this as an opportunity to reconcile… hopefully.

Juyeon just nodded in response, and made his way over to the edge of the tent opposite you. Just as he used to when you were younger. There were two things that Juyeon came to your tent for: when his parents argued or during a thunderstorm. The latter thought combined with the rain outside made his original explanation seem a little skewed. The sudden nostalgia made your tense body relax a small bit, and you huddled back under the cover while passing the other side toward Juyeon. The slight tug told you he was under it and you could feel his body warmth immediately. But his presence made you feel more claustrophobic than your old sleeping bag ever did. Your nostrils filled with the scent you had longed for in all comfort-seeking situations – a subtle hint of ocean spray mixed with autumn leaves. It’s why you loved to be by the ocean, it reminded you of him.

Finding the silence deafening, he spoke up. “How was your corn?” You could see a slight smile make its way to his lips, with the limited light from the moon and reflecting different shades of blue through the roof of the tent.

“It was good. Thank you, I was devastated when I saw you scavenges had taken them all.” I admitted, a little too open in emotion, and completely forgetting the last year of silence. He chuckled lightly at your honesty – “I figured. Sangyeon had charred that one perfectly, so I snagged it before anyone else could get it.”

Your cheeks became hot at the realization that he meant he hadn’t taken it for himself, he was thinking of you. But the thought made you more confused than ever, and the moment of reconciliation slowly faded as did your energy. It was minutes before either of you tried conversation again, but again it died as quickly as it started. You were frustrated.

Why has it come to this? What did I do?

But the only person that knew the answer to that, was lying a few feet away from you. Just do it.

“Juyeon?”

He hummed in response, to show he was listening to what you had to say.

Here goes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” It came out quickly, a little too quickly. But the pain behind the question was no longer masked. And it made Juyeon lean up onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looked down at what he believed was your eyes, the lack of light making it difficult to completely concentrate. That, and the loaded question you had just asked.

“I – I don’t know.” He admitted it calmly. But you were far from calm.

“You don’t know? You don’t know why you look the other way when I’ve tried to grab your attention. Or why Changmin has turned up to my house every Friday night since last summer all by himself.” You wanted to continue, but you were completely riled by the three worded, empty answer he gave to you.

“I’m sorry. That – I didn’t mean that I don’t know.” He began, drawing your attention back to the sincerity in his eyes. “I meant that I don’t know how to explain myself. It’s hard to talk about feelings when you’re too clouded in your own head.”

Feelings.

He continued, “I guess I’ll start with an apology…”

You were shocked. The candor in his tone made you want to never look away. It made you wonder why you had never asked in the first place. You were just as bad as he was by neglecting to confront the situation. You sighed and sat up, turning the small light on that hung from the ceiling.

As the light illuminated the tent, his sharp features became much more apparent. Looking down at him, you had switched roles. Now he looked intimidated by your gaze, just as you did when he looked down at you. But that moment ended with a crash of thunder and the lightning that lit up the whole tent like it had been struck.

The sudden flash scared Juyeon so much that he had jumped up and accidently hit the light in the process, flooding the tent again in darkness. Your hand went to your mouth in half shock, half laughter as you witnessed this grown man being scared by thunder just as much as he did when he was seven. His eyes were alert and you could hear his erratic breathing that made you want to comfort him just as you did back then.

Taking his hand and drawing variations of circles with your thumb you knew would bring him back to the present. But the charge of your skin touching was much more powerful than the lighting flash itself. It made you your eyes snap up at one another, now level as you both sat up in the tent. As your small hands held his right one, the warmth continued to radiate from his body into yours. It almost set your heart on fire.

The shock wore off and you started to do what you had intended as if nothing had happened. With one hand holding his hand in place, and the other drawing circles with your thumb to calm him down. It took him longer than usual to get his breathing steady, as the feeling of your electrified skin elongated the process. In the darkness, he could see your concentration on his hand which warmed his heart – it had been so long since you paid this much attention to him, let alone look his way. In reality, you both missed each other’s longing glances which was clouded by the thoughts of anxiety about your situation.

“I think – I’m okay now…” Juyeon accentuated his breathing to prove his point. But you didn’t stop, because you didn’t want to. The feeling of his hand filled the emptiness in your heart ever since he stopped talking to you. You loved Changmin, but nobody could fix this void except for Lee Juyeon. He noticed your hesitancy and took it upon himself to guide you back down under the covers. This time he was much closer, and he didn’t let go of your hand. You were content, you both were. The longing you had felt slowly faded as you had settled back into your reality together. Now you didn’t need to talk about it anymore. Anything that had happened was long forgotten by now.

You laid there together for a moment. Peacefully facing each other, Juyeon’s breath that fanned your face made you realise the proximity between you. But any anxiety washed away the moment his hand made its way to your thigh, drawing small circles. Just as you had moments ago. It had taken you this long to realise the size of his hands; the quick rate his chest rose and fell – you were focused on every detail of that moment.

“Hey,” he whispered, to which you hummed in response. “I’m sorry.”

You took a moment to take in the words you had wanted to hear for so long.

He is sorry. Do you want to know why? Is it best to forget about it?

Your silence made Juyeon act nervously, as he used that hand that continued to draw circles on your thigh to draw your body even closer to his. His hand shifted your head so it fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. The sudden action caused a strong waft of his scent to drown you and bring immediate comfort to your anxious figure. The way your lips grazed his collarbone brought a shiver over him, a moment you will relish in for a long time. Your power over him going unnoticed until now.

These actions occurred within the space of a minute. The final action being the feeling of his lips on your forehead as he applied more pressure than normal, as his emotions got the better of him. Your thoughts clouded once more as you questioned the motivation behind the kiss – the only sound drawing you back to reality was the rain that hit the tent at a force.

You pulled back to look at him, but not far enough that his arms moved from around you. You were locked in place by the feel of his embrace and the passion that shone from his eyes. Your questioning look made him put his emotions into words, as they poured out of him rushed and stammered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. I am sorry, I really am. I can’t explain how I feel completely, at this precise moment. The fact that you’re this close to me is extremely nerve-wracking. But I’m sorry that I’ve avoided you. I just couldn’t face you after I admitted it to myself. I can’t tell you when it began, and I don’t remember exactly when I felt the need to distance myself; it was a long time coming and I handled it badly, I know.”

As he paused to take a breath, you noticed how his hand ran back down to your thigh, drawing circles at a much quicker rate now to mirror his apprehension. The feeling ignited your insides and sent you into overdrive but his gaze was so overpowering that you couldn’t look away.

“There were times when I saw you messing around with Hyunjae that I just wanted to drag him away by the collar. Or if we were in a coffee shop and the barista drew your name with a small heart beside it, I saw red. Or even Changmin. He couldn’t hurt a soul. But it hurt me to see the way that you’d lie together on the sofa while we watched a movie every Friday. You’d team up to throw popcorn at me, while I tried my best to focus on the movie rather than the way his hand lingered a little too long on your hip to steady you from laughing.”

He took in another breath. You were unmoving. What is he saying?

“It has been years since I started feeling these things. And I tried to suppress them. I really did. But you captivated every moment of my day – from when I opened my eyes to the good night call we had before going to sleep. Even in my sleep, I could see your face. Just like now. I thought I needed to distance myself… but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

As his hand came up to touch your cheek, you became lost in his words completely. The thought that he reciprocated any feelings you had were never possible until this moment. As your eyes traced his facial features, from the small feathered earring that hooked onto his earlobe, to the sharp contour of his cheek bones, to the honesty that melted into his eyes, drawing your attention finally to his lips that spoke the next few words.

“And like that, I fell in love with you.”

The reality of his emotions burst through you as your eyes shut and Juyeon closed the gap between you. His plush lips slotted perfectly against yours, as if they were carved specifically for one another. The touch wasn’t rushed, but you felt his desperation as his lips opened and guided yours with him. The slowness of his movements and the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth made you melt into him; your hands moving from between you to the nape of his neck, as his pulled at your hips to bring as much contact as possible.

You pulled away first to gaze at him with as much love and passion as you could muster, with a lot of it taken from the sincerity of the kiss. You merely whispered the words he wanted to hear before he drew you back in again.

I love you, Lee Juyeon.

You woke a few hours later as the light began to shine through into the tent. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed up last night – a mixture of kisses, soft touches and moments that you had never thought possible. It was all followed by hours of talking; back to your reality.

A soft snore caught your attention and brought you back to being in Juyeon’s arms. At some point during the night the sleeping bag had been thrown off of your snuggled figures, with the warmth radiating from the leg he had swung over yours. His other leg wedged its way between your own, like a high score on Tetris.

Your gaze rested on his relaxed face, the worry visible last night had been completely erased and replaced with a look of content – one that likely mirrored your own. As your nose lightly tickled under his jaw, he breathed in deeply telling you that your sudden desire to take in this moment had stirred him awake. His movement shifted his weight from beneath you to on top of you, with his head now rested in your neck, his lips slowly trailing against your collarbone. Feeling his lips curve into a smile made your own twitch upwards, too.

Laying there in that moment, the last year vanished. It hurt you to think he distanced himself because of this, but you knew you could work it out. You always did.

Your attention shifted onto the pressure against your thigh and you realised that this journey might not be the easiest you’ve ever taken.

“Juyeon!” you squealed, as the realization dawned on him and the sound of his laughter filled the tent. “Again, really?!”

He shot up onto his elbows to lean over you, as he did what felt like days ago. The fluffiness of his hair made you want to run your hands through it. So, you did. His eyes slimmed into the crescent moons that you knew and loved as he took a moment to stare down at you, the glistening of his eyes filling you with adoration. With a quick peck, he got up and began to sort through the clothes that were flung across the tent in a hurry. The mesmerising curvature of his back distracted you from sorting out your own clothes. He began to hand you items of clothing one by one, implying that you were about to leave the tent. Something you hadn’t thought about doing. At this point, you’d neglected to listen to the chaos that ensued outside – you looked back at Juyeon with a slight fear.

He chuckled, the rings that adorned his slender fingers brought a chill to you as he caressed your face. “They had to find out at some point, love.”

Love. You shivered, not from the cold this time.

With a few deep breathes, and ensuring your clothing was on in the correct and appropriate manner, Juyeon took your hand and unzipped the tent with the other.

As the wind blew sharply, the chattered died down from the group of boys that had circled the fire pit with cups of coffee in their hands. Their faces turned from excitement to shock, with a screaming that came from none other than Changmin filled your ears as he looked down at your intertwined hands.

You and Juyeon looked down at what they were staring at, and then again at each other with a small, knowing smile that only you two shared. The shock quickly morphed into shouts and hollers as Juyeon led you to the circle to join them.

You took a seat between him and Changmin, who handed you a cup of steaming coffee accompanied by a wink. You quickly shoved him at the shoulder for his cheekiness, but turned your attention to your coffee when you realised Juyeon had placed an arm around your shoulder. You looked at him with complete adoration to which he returned with a wink and a squeeze of your shoulder. Unlike Changmin, he didn’t get a shove – just a flustered look that made you direct your attention back to your coffee, as a smile made its way to your face, and it didn’t plan on leaving.

#leejuyeon #juyeon #juyeon fluff #juyeon scenario #the boyz #the boyz fluff #the boyz scenario #juyeon best friend #the boyz au #juyeon au #ji changmin #tbz #tbz fluff #tbz scenario #tbz scenarios

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justsomevoltronstuff · 4 years

Note

hc's of the paladins seeing their s/o lose a limb in battle?

sorry for the wait! hope you enjoy :)

(I did Allura as well cause she’s technically a Paladin too)

As the battle raged, they tried to keep you in their sights, but the battlefield was never a good place and now was no exception. You always make them promise not to worry about you in the midst of life and death, but they never listened. Likewise, they always told you to stay by their side if you weren’t in the castle or a lion, so that they could protect you, and you never listened.

You always get so caught up in the battle that you lose track of your team, you wander off and end up fighting for yourself with no hope of aid.

They saw you from across the battlefield, annoyed that you didn’t stay with the group but too preoccupied to dwell on it for too long. You were left mostly to your own devices as they knew you were a well seasoned fighter and could hold your own, but when you started getting outnumbered, they started to worry some. It seemed as though anytime you’d catch a break, several more would appear.

You wear drowning in enemies and exhaustion was bound to override adrenaline eventually. They started making their way toward you, telling themselves that you were a comrade in need and that they weren’t just an overprotective significant other.

Then it happened. You lost your weapon after a particularly harsh blow, and the enemy was coming right down on your head. Out of pure survival instinct, you lifted an arm to protect yourself at the last moment, and then pain seared through your limbs.

You dropped to your knees, screaming, and they rushed to get over to you. The battle was mostly over, and with everyone's attention on you, the remaining enemies were quickly dealt with.

Shiro

he does not handle it well by any means

he lost his own arm and never wanted you to have to go through anything like it

is likely the reason the battle didn’t last much longer because, lets face it, homie went off on some enemies after seeing you get injured

definitely scooped you up and carried you back to the castle himself

everyone else offering to help, but he just needed the reassurance that you were at least still alive

waits outside your cryo pod waiting for you to heal

blames himself for not staying by your side

after your healed he helps you get accustomed to lacking a limb

if/when you get a prosthetic arm he helps you learn out to fight with it and move with it as naturally as possible

cute bonding moments of a shared understanding of being an amputee

Prosthetic Parents™

Lance

you handle it better than he does

he’s absolutely losing his shit while you just calmly pick up your weapon and keep on fighting until you pass out from pain or finish the battle

he paces outside your pod the whole time you’re healing

mumbling to himself about what he could've done and how he should've been by your side

the others are all completely done with him by the time you emerge

“He’s been like this since you went in,” Pidge comments tiredly while working on your new prosthetic

comforting him and letting him know that you’re okay

him worrying that you’re just putting up a front so that you don’t cause anyone to worry about you

you having to comfort and assure him everythings going to be okay

in the days of Pidge still perfecting your permanent prosthetic you have an easily removable one to get used to having one

and sometimes you just pull it off and smack Lance with it when he starts getting too wild

Hunk

definitely cried

like not on the battlefield in the middle of a literal life and death situation

but ohhohoho the moment the field was cleared baby boy was sobbing for you

bakes you cookies and all your favorite comfort foods while waiting for you to get better

is so sweet and gentle while helping you get used to your new lifestyle

helps Pidge engineer your prosthetic

helps you through physical therapy and rehabilitation

honestly is just the most patient and understanding boyfriend

he’s always hyper-aware of you and your emotions and knows when you could use a nice bowl of ice cream or something to hit

makes certain you know you can talk to him

he may still gave all his limbs intact and not know exactly what you’re going through, but would rather be confused than leave you to cope alone

is absolutely devastated on your behalf and is not above crying with you, but also won’t dwell on it if you just wanna move on like normal

is a total sweetheart, no cap

Keith

when he first sees you, he’s so angry

why?! why couldn’t you just do what he asks of you one time and stay by his side?! why wouldn’t you just let him protect and cover you?!

tries to stay calm as to not freak you out on the way to the pod

but the second you’re in and under to start healing?? homie is storming to the training room ready to fight a whole nother battle all by himself

the other paladins just let him go knowing it’s better to let him cool off alone

he comes back and leans against your pod once he calms down

probably pulls his knees to his chest and starts crying

once you’re out you want nothing more than to have him hold you for a while

but he’s avoiding you like the plague

eventually you get tired of it and go to your best friend Lance to rant

“It’s ridiculous Lance! You’d think I cheated on him the way he’s acting!”

hands in the air, pacing, running your hands through your hair every now and then, the whole nine yards

“To be fair, Y/n, you almost died out there. I’m shaken up too, but we all know how Mullet handles things. He probably just needs to think.”

you being so fed up with him, and now Lance too for not taking your side

you just want your boyfriend to cuddle you, damnit

spending hours alone in the training room

half to start working out and getting accustomed to not having an arm and half knowing it was Keith’s go to spot so he’d be forced to face you

once he finally acknowledges you it's completely him trying not to break down into full on sobs while telling you how scared he was

baeby honestly (also sorry, did not mean to make this so long)

Pidge

Pidge.EXE has stopped functioning.

Pidge has experienced loss before, so watching you go down in the midst of a battle, fear and sorrow were the only emotions felt, thought you died

realizes you didn’t die and that you just lost your arm

oh is that all

instead of wasting time outside of your cryo pod just waiting for you to inevitably wake up, decides to get to work on something actually useful

and thus quite possibly the best prototype prosthetic arm in the galaxy is born before you even come out of healing

Pidge is constantly upgrading your prosthetic, determined to give you only the best of the best

struggles to find any other way to cope with this new reality

worries about your mental and physical health

just wants to be there for you and be as helpful as possible in this unforeseen time

thinks you look super hot and badass with a prosthetic arm

Allura

assumes it will grow back

panics when it does indeed not grow back

questions the others on how to best handle the situation

it's a learning experience for both of you

tries to incorporate some Altean gear into your new arm

honestly does not know how to go about helping you but tries her hardest to

offers cuddles, a shoulder to cry on, and someone to talk to if you need it

just wants you to know you can always talk to her

has coffee with Shiro and asks him to tell her everything she needs to know about amputation

is just very loving and concerned and curious and wants to be there for you

~Admin Rori💜

#voltron imagines #voltron preferences #voltron #voltron x reader #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #allura #shiro x reader #lance x reader #hunk x reader #keith x reader #pidge x reader #allura x reader #voltron legendary defender #admin rori #vld headcanons

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

it isn’t that hard to like you or love you. i’d follow you down, down, down

summary: ransom’s an insecure bitch TM and there’s no character development happening here. (mostly before that other ransom thing I wrote, but a small peak after bc i couldn’t resist)

warnings: sex toys. a lot. and a lot of sex. and you know, ransom always entails some weird, rough shit, so.

word count: a little over 10,300

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

It had been years since you’d felt something inside you other than Ransom*. (x)

*Seriously. Years.

Your relationship with Ransom didn’t have the purest start. The ski-lodge was something both of your families looked at as a restart for the year, almost a form of damage control. He needed to stop partying so much and you needed to settle down. His group included his parents, Joni, Meg, Walt, Donna, and Jacob. He told you later that they never invited Harlan because this was usually their time to get wasted and say terrible things about him.

Your group was your mother, father, his two sisters, their husbands, a few of their children, and your boyfriend, Jeremy Vanderbilt. You hadn’t invited him, however, that was your father’s doing. Why? Because he was smart. He was a businessman. And Jeremy was nowhere near as attractive as you—at least, that was what you heard Dad tell Mom one night—so, there was no chance of him leaving you for someone else.

You’d confided to your father that the relationship wasn’t going well. You’d met Jeremy in high school and yes, you’d recognized that he wasn’t the most attractive man, but he was sweet, and you just got along with him. As time went on and you discovered he had absolutely no ambition, you worried that you were just going to be stuck with a sad replica of your parents’ life.

Eventually, your father would give him a job at the family company—a position that should be yours but never would be, never mind that, though. You would be a model up until he got you pregnant, the absolute last thing you wanted right now, and then you’d spend the rest of your life bitter and unsatisfied, tolerance would soon turn to resentment and you’d probably kill him one Christmas Eve with an axe. You wanted more, you wanted exciting.

Ransom was…in a way, exciting. Though the first week you’d been made aware of his unfortunate existence, you tried to avoid him like the plague. It started when your families were checking in, which happened to occur at the same time--something you often thought about because if it had just happened at a completely different time, you might have never met the Thrombeys. You might have never met Ransom. Now, you weren't sure you believed in soul mates or anything like that, but it always just kind of seemed like fate to you.

You were trying to get out of the lobby as fast as possible, just retire to your room because the trip up there was nothing short of sickening. Mindlessly, you’d walked into Ransom and because you were an actual person, began apologizing. Since he was just a beast, not a person, he was a total dick about it.

Whatever, you had encountered that a lot. People with money were often the worst. It didn’t bother you all that much. By the time you were in your room, soaking in a bath, you had completely erased it from your mind.

You didn’t see him again until three nights later when you pretended you needed to take a call outside to duck out of a dreadful dinner. Meg was there and she was in desperate need of something to smoke, which you happened to have on you. She was nice, telling you about how she intended to start college in January after spending two years on a break to try to figure out what she wanted to do.

When Ransom appeared, he was radiating arrogance. And heavy intoxication. He instantly started in on Meg, making every comment he could think of to get under her skin. Maybe it was that you guys had been out there smoking for nearly half an hour that diffused her anger, but she refused to engage and returned inside.

At that point, he had nothing to focus on but you. He’d asked for your name and you told him to fuck off. From that moment, Ransom showed an interest in you that you simply did not understand.

You refused to play his games for a while. You liked Meg, she was nice, unlike the rest of the family. And Ransom constantly tried to antagonize her. But see, your family and his family were the only obscenely rich families there at the moment. Most people were likely in Colorado, unfortunately, your moronic father insisted on Utah. Linda was an elitist, and well, you guys were all officially best friends.

It started with joint dinners, then breakfasts, then it was every god damn meal of the day. Your mother, Linda, and Joni needed to get away from their husbands constantly. Richard, your father, one of your mother's sisters, and Walt liked cigars and card games and would disappear anywhere they could to play out some pathetic knock-off casino scene. Meg loved the children and didn't mind babysitting, something you helped with when you could. Oh, and Ransom had taken quite an interest in Jeremy.

He hadn't really been around much at the start. You'd heard he was making his way through the female staff anyway, just trying to cause as much drama as he possibly could. No one in the Thrombey family seemed surprised and they didn't comment on it at all. Your family had the decency to wait until you were all in your rooms and could gossip about it behind their backs.

But then he did start showing up. Whenever Jeremy would hug you, kiss you, or just try to touch you in any unnecessary way, Ransom would give you this knowing look. That was around the time you started trying to pull away but that was only annoying Jeremy and sometimes Ransom would find you alone and you had no excuse to leave. You would have to admit that you were scared to be alone with him. You would have to admit why.

He was gorgeous, that was why. And dangerous and had clearly never heard the word 'no' before. You wanted to be the one to introduce him to the concept but you doubted your ability to tell him no.

One night, when Jeremy came to bed drunk and very handsy, you ended up screaming at each other. He was a drunk idiot with impaired judgment so you were the one that left the scene. It was stupid, but you decided to look for Ransom. Maybe you had wanted to tell him to stop getting your boyfriend drunk or maybe you just knew you had an alibi for not returning to your room that night. Not like Jeremy would be awake any time soon anyway.

Nothing happened, not really, you made it very clear that you were still with your boyfriend. But Ransom knew how to get all the information about your life that he wanted. Surprisingly, at some point, he started telling you some things back. He hated his family and you hated yours.

Perfect match.

Now, you guys would sit next to each other at those family breakfasts and dinners and whisper condescending things about everyone, Jeremy included. One thing you noticed, Ransom was a lot nicer to Meg and you figured it was because he knew it made you uncomfortable. In fact, Joni and Meg were the only people at the whole table who you could tolerate for more than two hours. Jeremy was starting to notice your new friendship, but what was he going to do about it?

One night, which would turn out being your last night at the lodge, Ransom showed up at nearly three in the morning. You'd figured he was with your boyfriend as you were alone, but he showed up solo.

You were hardly in anything, it was late, late enough that you wanted to hit him for being there—however, manners, you assumed, were foreign to him.

Amid a snarky comment you could no longer remember, he just moved forward and kissed you. You shoved at him, walking backward until you were forced to stop at the entertainment center in the main living room. He grabbed your face, holding you there, making it impossible to pull away from him. It was then that you sort of just crumbled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, a cue for him to pick you up.

He did, grabbing one thigh at a time and hauling your body up so your exposed cunt brushed against the stupid sweater he was wearing. He set you atop the entertainment center and you dropped your hands to his pants, yanking them out of your way. His hand found your center and he groaned when he felt how wet you were.

"Damn, is that all for me?"

You snorted. "I was fucking my fingers when you rudely interrupted."

He grabbed your jaw, locking his eyes with yours. "You’re going to show me that before I leave."

Without patience, he used one of his hands to shove yours away and pulled himself out of his pants.

You were going to turn down but he used his hold on your jaw. "Just keep looking at me, baby."

You felt his tip against your skin, he began to run it through your slit, just barely brushing your clit every now and then. "Ransom, please—"

He slipped in just barely and you gasped. The head of his cock alone was a stretch you’d never quite felt.

You eagerly spread your legs further. "Keep going."

He slid in just a little more, groaning. "Fuck, you are tight."

And he was huge, but you could not tell a guy like Ransom that. He made you keep looking at him as he continued giving you more of his cock. His eyes showed pleasure, amusement, and definitely mischief. He wanted you surprised, it was why he didn’t let you look. You thought several times that you truly couldn't take any more of him but you knew that letting him know that would just get you that smug smirk, so you kept your mouth shut.

He gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him. He kissed you until you were the one bucking your hips and squirming. Then he fucked you hard and rough, and it was disgusting. He used you like you were a doll, whispering filthy things in your ear and sometimes making you say some back. He pulled your hair and choked you.

When you could hardly keep holding on to him, he decided it was time to go. He scooped you up and carried you to your bed, and didn’t cover your body or clean his cum off of you because he wanted Jeremy to find you.

Which he did, and by the time you woke up the next morning, everyone was packing. Jeremy had told your family about it and everyone knew immediately that it was Ransom. Your parents were furious, your aunts were entertained, and Jeremy was heartbroken. You’d never been a cheater so you had no idea what the hell to say to him. It didn’t seem like he’d wanted you to try anyway so you just shut up while everyone around you moved to get out of here quickly.

When your mother and her sisters went to lunch, you decided to head down to one of the many coffee shops. You took your youngest niece with you because she couldn’t help pack and you hardly wanted to be alone. With some coloring books and a wide collection of colored pencils, you guys settled in.

She was telling you all about her favorite tv show as you sipped on a latte. You’d order her a hot chocolate that she’d already downed like the demon she was.

As you looked up to ask a server for another hot chocolate, you spotted Meg. She waved at you and you were just hit with this terrible idea. You told your niece to stay at the table and you would return with more hot chocolate. After a little small talk with Meg, and a dismissive hello from Linda, you’d asked if you could borrow Meg's phone. Per your lie, your boyfriend was supposed to meet you and your niece but had yet to show and you’re phone had died.

You slipped outside and searched for Ransom’s number. Thankfully, even though she clearly hated him, she had it. You pretended to make the call and then headed back inside. You returned to your table with some hot chocolate and sat back down to color again. Everything was normal, you had not made any irreversible mistakes as of yet.

Emphasis on yet, however. When you guys returned up to the room, Jeremy was on the phone trying to get a separate flight from the rest of you. As soon as he’d seen you, he headed out onto the balcony and slammed the door shut behind him. Good.

You disappeared into your bedroom, he wouldn’t dare step in there. You slipped into a cream-colored lacy bodysuit that actually covered nothing and hopped onto your mattress. You took several videos and faked even more orgasms, your only concern was that the videos looked good. Ransom had said he was going to watch you touch yourself before he’d left. Maybe he’d forgotten, but you didn’t exactly want him to.

You weren’t sure you had a winner but you had to stop when your father banged on your door and gruffly told you it was time to leave. Later, when you located your favorite video, you sent it. No name or explanation. You just included: you’re welcome. Blocking your number, by the way. Xoxo

Three days later, once you were home and back in your apartment, just trying to work and avoid the embarrassment of all your friends knowing you’d cheated on your boyfriend, there was a knock on your door. No one knew where you lived, it was a small, cozy place not meant for anyone but you.

Opening the door, you were not expecting to see Ransom there. "You didn't say goodbye."

You snorted. "I would have assumed you would be used to getting fucked and then forgotten about."

He smirked before glancing around. His expression soon showed his distaste. "Are you poor or something?"

"It’s meant to keep away the rich."

"You know, I woulda called..."

But you’d blocked him. "Some would take that to mean that I just didn’t want you to come at all."

"Well, I don’t much care about what other people want."

You’d been living together a month when he had located one of your toys. You thought he’d be excited to bring something in for just a little extra when you two were fucking. Nope, you were very wrong.

He was irritated beyond comprehension. He took your favorite shower toy—the one with a suction cup—stuck it on a kitchen chair and made you sit on it. For hours. Not allowed to move or touch yourself. All while he told you what he would do to you. You know, if you were a good girl. Which, according to him, you were very much not.

He’d then proceeded not to fuck you for a week. Seven motherfucking days. Despite your best attempts. Joining him in the shower. Blowing him in the Beamer. Sending pictures. Leaving voicemails begging him to let you feel him inside of you. Not a thing could crack his resolve.

Well, except you pouting about it on that 7th day. It was Christmas. You were watching Cartoon Network, waiting for the bests. Thinking back, you were sure it was in addition to the stress he felt over having to deal with his family. But whatever, he’d still fucked you and you’d still been three hours late to the annual Christmas party.

He’d proudly told everyone it was because your cunt was the only present he’d wanted and didn’t care when you nearly choked on your wine because of it. Donna tried to throw a chair at him afterward, imploring him to consider the children present. Not that Jacob had even heard, as he was too busy on Twitter. He did live stream the fight, though, claimed it got turned into a meme.

Even though Ransom didn’t tell you why you weren’t a “good girl”, you’d figured it was his insane pride. Ransom would be the kind of guy to freak out over their girlfriend fucking anything else, even inanimate objects. You didn’t get rid of the rest of your toys, you just tried to hide them better.

So, the ones you thought you couldn’t part with were placed in your suitcases because you knew he wouldn’t find them. He had quickly come to terms with your extensive collection. You loved airports and loved being photographed at them, that meant suitcases were of the utmost importance to you. They lined the walls of your closet, the one he had added to his house for you when you moved in—because the idea of you two being able to share a closet was hilarious. He had twice as many sweaters as you and you had more dresses than he had scarves. In short, you guys weren’t interested in sharing closets. A house, a bed, sure. But trying to fit into a single closet probably would have ended your relationship.

Speaking of ending the relationship. You’d walked in, dozens of shopping bags in hand, finding him sitting at the table with your favorite vibrator just inches away from his coffee mug. You’d wanted to know why exactly he was in your closet in the first place! It was your closet, your suitcase! He had no right!

It took a total of three seconds before you were screaming at him. And about ten seconds for him to start screaming back. You were both fans of angry fucking, which was the only reason he’d fucked you then. Bags and new clothing was strewn all around, a chair on its side because he stood up to intimidate you, and you decided to try to kick the chair at him. He pushed it over and then shoved you against the wall.

A blink of an eye later, he had your skirt pushed up and your underwear pulled out of his way. He indelicately thrust into you until you were so, so, so fucking close. But he’d just kept saying wait for me, baby. Just wait a little longer. I want to feel it together. And you being stupid, believed him. You were just about to slip, despite your sheer desperation to experience the pretty picture he was painting, when he pulled out. He stroked himself several times, leaned over to bite down on your shoulder, and then he spilled out onto your skirt, your thighs, and the fucking floor.

He kissed your shoulder, then turned, tucked his cock back in his pants, and left. Oh, but not before he grabbed the vibrator. You didn’t speak to him for eleven days and he didn’t seem to care too much.

This was at the same time your parents were doubling down on their efforts to make you leave him. They constantly introduced you to their friends’ children, men your age who were kind, smart, and a lot less spoiled and entitled than Ransom.

Honestly, that tenth night that you’d fallen asleep alone, you actually considered listening to them. He must have known something was up that morning, because he did actually know you and care about your feelings even if he didn’t act like it. You hadn’t said or done anything differently, you just took your coffee and left for another brunch with your parents.

When you returned to the house, he wasn’t in the living room. That was where he’d been most days, just reading the newspaper and pointedly being okay with your silent treatment. You briefly thought that if he wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be so hard to pack a few bags. Maybe if he was going to be gone for a few hours, you could get a few great professionals to pack up your closet before he even knew what you were planning.

But then he called your name from the kitchen. You went if only because you were curious. He handed you a diamond necklace, said he was sorry for ruining your skirt. You were utterly speechless. Your skirt? He was apologizing about your skirt?!

You took the necklace but didn’t say a word to him. That night, he’d come home later than you would have wanted, but at least it wasn’t 3 am. He didn’t try to speak first, didn’t look for your permission. He just climbed into bed and pulled you into his chest.

The following time was more than just wounded pride. Okay, it was all wounded pride, but it was on a severe, personal level. Your parents were still trying and you had to tell Ransom. Why? Because one of his female friends that he used to fuck told him that you were out with Maximus Brandt, a “mutual friend” of just about everyone, even though, in reality, no one could stand him. You included. And well, he and Ransom... you didn’t have the time to explain their level of hate for one another.

Ransom was furious at first, then you explained the situation. He didn’t stop being furious, oh no. He instead just changed his reason for being furious. But he claimed he didn’t care. He claimed that he knew he had nothing to worry about and you told him that he was right, you wanted to be with him. You thought that was the end of the issue.

Nope, the following day, while you were at work, Ransom texted you four times.

How many god damn vibrators can a person have?

You hadn’t read it when he first sent it, you didn’t have your phone on you. You were just there for a photoshoot, hopefully, a smooth one. Work hadn’t been great as of late, not so much because of Ransom... it was just that you knew he was insecure. He was never going to admit it, but he was terrified of losing you to someone else. Lately, he’d seen you with other people, people who—per his insane, deranged mind—stared at you affectionately and touched you too comfortably. You weren’t complaining, not exactly. See, because, in his attempt to hide his emotions, he fucked you. A lot. Hard. Always with a hand around your throat, edging you until you finally said that you were his.

You liked those moments. Hell, you even liked afterward when he would either silently hold you on top of him, head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat or when he would set you on his side and play with your hair as he answered the questions you asked about his day. Commonly, it was family drama and he would get so angry and worked up a second time that he would fuck you again. Maybe even again after that. But you didn’t actually like the idea of making him feel like you weren’t completely committed to him.

So, you wanted to get in and get out. Maybe make dinner with Ransom, you planned to wear a tiny dress and tease him the whole time. You occupied your mind wondering where he would break. Inside the fancy restaurant? It wouldn’t be the first time. He loved fingering you at dinner with his family because of course, he was just that kind of asshole. Though...you were the one who hardly ever wore underwear... or maybe outside? He’d fucked you against many buildings, in several alleyways throughout your relationship.

His second text read: now I’ve found your plugs, that’s great.

And the third: tell me where all of these things are. I’m getting rid of them.

You didn’t even glance at your phone until your Uber was taking you home. It was like watching a murder, and by the time the fourth text came in, you were livid.

Fine, don’t tell me. I guess I’ll just have to find them.

You called him 27 times. He didn’t pick up once. You stormed into the house, straight up to your room. There was clothing everywhere, bras, panties, and corsets because he went through the dressers first. And okay, there were a few in there. The travel toys you’d gathered over the years, the vibrating bar necklace your best friend got you last year. They laid on the bed with the easier to find toys, the bigger toys, but also with that discrete lipstick vibrator that you’d hidden away in your makeup box.

He really had gone through most of your shit. "Ransom!"

"Closet," he growled.

You stormed in, shrieking incoherently when you saw your suitcases thrown everywhere. They were all opened, laying on either the floor or one another. Expensive bags were being treated like they were nothing, expensive bags that you had worked to afford.

"I’ve found 19," he informed, not bothering to turn back to you. He was moving to your jewelry box now and would be finding more. "Why don’t you just be helpful and tell me where they all are?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He didn’t respond.

"This is my closet, Ransom! This is my stuff, you have no right to be in my stuff!"

He finally faced you, eyes narrowed. "This is my house!"

You slapped him. So hard your hand was stinging sharply long after. And ran away like a child throwing a temper tantrum. It took him a moment, but he was soon chasing after you. You practically dove into the guest room before he could reach you. He wouldn’t hit you, never, but he would force you to apologize to him and you weren’t ready to do that yet.

It was definitely not your finest moment, but you just needed to cool down, think about things, plot how you wanted to proceed. You realized, alone in that room with too much time on your hands that this called for true revenge.

He couldn’t just go through your things. This wasn’t his house anymore. It had been, but then he asked you to move in. This was your shared house, just as much yours as it was his. He was not allowed to just go through your possessions. He had no respect for you or your belongings, and this wasn’t going to go unpunished.

You used two days to lure him into a calm, trusting place. He probably thought this was the worst of it: the silent treatment. You would only leave the room if he was gone and made sure to leave obvious signs about it. You wanted him to know that he wasn't preventing you from living in your house. You did, however, refuse to step foot in your shared bedroom.

On the third morning, you found an outfit in the laundry room and went shopping. The terrified look on his face when he saw how many bags you were holding was exactly what you wanted to see. He knew now that you were serious about this. But no apologies were made. Actually, he said you were acting like a brat, then left to hang out with his friends.

Brat? Not yet.

You moved freely for a couple of hours. He’d cleaned the bedroom, made sure your closet was spotless like it had been before he destroyed it—but it was simply too late. You happily stayed in the living room until you heard his car pulling into the driveway, then you dashed to the room to begin. He may have taken all your toys, but he couldn’t stop you from buying more.

You stripped naked and hopped on the bed. Little prep was needed, you’d been wet since you made the almost $500 purchase at the sex shop earlier, thinking about how angry you were going to make Ransom.

You started with a small vibrating plug and let yourself get used to that first. You could hear him moving about the house, slowly, cautiously, trying to see if your revenge was going to be easily spotted. Next, a simple, but larger vibrator that took you a moment to adjust around. You made the mental note to let him know the size—he would be livid. And finally, a vibrator for your clit.

When he knocked on the door, you were well on your way to your first orgasm. You remained as silent as you possibly could for a moment, eager for him to hear the vibrating. Then you tossed your head back and let out a moan. "Oh, fuck!"

"What...what do you think you are doing?" he demanded.

"Well," you sighed, "right now, I have a vibrator on my clit. 10 speed settings...I’m only on the third and I’m already so close."

"Y/N," he warned, "I swear—"

"And one in my pussy," you informed. “It’s so big... I wasn’t sure it was going to fit at first."

"Well, considering my cock fits, I think most things would. You know a fucking toy doesn’t compare to me."

"And a plug." You weren’t going to argue with him. "This one vibrates too. It feels so fucking good."

"Enough, open the damn door."

You turned off the vibrator inside you and pulled it out. "Can you hear how wet I am?" Slowly, you pressed it back in. You watched the toy sink into your pussy and immediately realized something. Maybe Ransom would like to watch as well... You set aside the vibrator that was pressed to your clit and grabbed your phone.

You began fucking yourself with the toy, biting your lip to keep your noises down. You knew Ransom wanted to leave but the loud, wet sounds from your pussy kept him at the door. Even when you couldn’t hear him, you just knew. He wouldn’t leave until he heard you finish.

You turned on the vibration once more and left it, picking up the other once more. You gasped when you settled it back to your clit. You were close, you knew it would just take a moment. You kept the camera aimed where you were working, no longer trying to stifle your moans and whimpers. You knew he was going to hate the sounds you were making because you weren’t saying his name with them.

"Baby?" you called out.

"You are in so much trouble," he asserted. "If you stop now, I might let you finish."

"If I don’t?"

"I swear I won’t make you come for a month."

"Clearly, I don’t need you." Okay, you were bluffing. An entire month not finishing on his cock? That did concern you, but you knew he was also bluffing.

"Open this door. Now."

"Just a second," you breathed. Your finish followed your words almost immediately. "Fuck! Oh, god, Ransom... I think these toys might be as good as you."

The door whipped open, a deafening crack filling the room. Turning your head, you found Ransom standing there, eyes wide and jaw set. He had never looked this angry.

Your mouth dropped when you saw the damage to the doorframe, you would have to call someone out there to fix it. Soon. Because you weren’t sleeping with him. Not unless he apologized and made it up to you. In diamonds and maybe a new car. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You just kicked in the door, like, you're fucking ridiculous."

He stormed over to you, yanking the toy from your hand and tossing it on the bed. He pulled the second one from your clenching center, free hand gripping your thigh hard when he noticed how difficult it was to pull free from your tight pussy—god, he was going to miss that because no way in hell was he going to fuck you after this behavior. Finally, he pulled your plug out and you whimpered.

He glared at you.

Smirking, you held your phone out. "Watch the video I made for you, baby."

He tore it from your hand and did just that. He was already hard, you could see the bulge in his pants.

Sitting up, you reached out for him.

He slapped at your hand. "Don’t touch me."

"Fine." You laid back down, dipping your fingers into your folds.

He quickly noticed what you were doing, taking your wrist in his hand and holding it. "Stop."

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

He watched the entire thing and you knew his control was slipping, his fingers were digging into your skin—you couldn’t wait to see the bruises.

He threw your phone on the bed and turned back to you. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"You’ve never fucked my ass, you know that?"

His eyebrows pulled together. "You never asked."

"Wanna do it now?" You pulled your wrist away from him and rolled over, pushing your hips back to offer your ass up to him. "You can..."

"If?"

"If you apologize."

You were startled by his hand whipping across your ass. You rolled back over to face him, eyes wide. "What the fuck?!"

He grabbed your left calf and caught your right foot when you tried to kick him.

"Did you just spank me?!"

"You were acting like a brat." He yanked you down close to the edge of the bed and before you could say a word, his lips were against yours.

You had started to push him away by the shoulders but when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, you started pulling him back in. Your fingers tugged at his shirt, tangled in his hair and pulled, touched his jaw and cheekbones.

You guys didn’t make out often, the kisses were brief because Ransom was impatient and sometimes just needed to fuck you.

He began to lay his body onto yours. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, grinding your bare pussy against his pants. He grabbed a handful of hair and tore your head back. His lips and teeth were all over your neck, moving down to your breasts.

"Ransom." Your hands found the button of his pants and you tore them open. "Fuck me."

He pulled away completely, leaving you on the bed as he re-buttoned his pants. "No."

You scoffed. "No?"

"No," he repeated. He hurriedly grabbed the toys on the bed before you could and left.

"So, you’ll take care of yourself?" you called out. "I could just use my mouth."

You heard his steps stutter, then he continued stomping away. Well, you hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, but you weren’t overly concerned. If you needed, you had fingers. If you were really desperate, you had a shower with a detachable showerhead.

For almost three weeks, Ransom would not let anyone enter the house to fix the door.

Meaning for those three weeks, he would also sneak into bed with you. His mouth and fingers touched your pussy until you woke up. Then he would stop and just lay down next to you, refusing to let you sleep any place other than locked in his arms and against his chest.

You were furious but all of that was going to have to be placed on hold. Oddly, as much as you two fought, it never really coincided with your period. Though, you had a theory about why that was.

Ransom, control freak, had to know what was going on with your body at all times. Initially, you didn’t know what to make of it. It was always a toss-up with these rich, white men—were they going to be insanely immature about something as small as a period? Much to your surprise, not Ransom.

When you weren’t living together, he would always text you to make sure you were doing okay. If you weren’t, he would bring you food and something very expensive. When you were living together, it was impossible for him not to notice the more worrisome symptoms—the cramps, the headaches. The first two days were really the worst, you generally avoided leaving the house at the start.

That morning, Ransom found you in bed, curled up in a ball with your hand pressed to your forehead. As if that was going to ease the insane amount of pressure you felt behind your eyes. Thing was, you were supposed to be at work. That was one of the better things about only working for friends and trusted associates—they never thought you were calling in simply because you were hungover or something else even more unprofessional that was often associated with models.

"Thought you had a shoot today," he said.

"I had to cancel."

"Why?"

You didn’t answer. Shouldn’t he know by now? You really wouldn’t be surprised if he had a calendar marked with the expected dates.

"Oh."

But then, you guys had been fighting for how long? He probably missed it.

Those first few times he witnessed the cramps, he was actually immensely nurturing. It wasn’t like he had any responsibilities, so he sat with you in bed and let you lay on him, your back to his chest. He would place his hands on you and they were always so warm, you would just melt into him.

That soon changed. You had been in bed together one morning, it seemed just like any other time. But noon came and he told you to get out of bed and into the shower. You thought you were dying, you sure as hell couldn’t shower. But he would not accept that answer.

You weren’t sure why until he had the front of your body pressed to the tile wall, his hands on your hips as he fucked you so. So. So. Fucking. Slow. And after, he grabbed a few towels, set them over the bed, and laid you down to continue. You were confused and let him know, and all he said was that he’d read it would help with the cramps and the headache.

It had helped, but you figured it was a distraction more than anything. After that, it was just routine. Not that you didn’t have sex with him most nights, but he insisted on, every night of your period, fucking you until you were nearly unconscious. Those were the only nights he was gentle.

He sat down next to you, fingers brushing over your shoulder.

You recoiled from his touch. "Go away."

"Come on, baby, you know I can’t just leave you in pain like this." You heard him start to undress but made no moves to do the same. When he laid down next to you, he tried to urge you onto your back with a hand pulling on your shoulder.

"Ransom, stop. I’m not kidding."

He sighed, leaning over to kiss your face. "Let me help."

"You can help by leaving."

His warmth and the blanket you were curled up in lessened your resolve by a lot. He found it much easier to pull your shoulder away from your face, which he took full advantage of and began kissing over all of the skin he could reach.

"Ransom," you whined, trying to roll further away from him. He held you back by a hand on your hip.

"Shut up." Over the blanket, his hand slid up your stomach to your breast.

You hated that you moaned. Your brain knew you would regret this, but your body wanted nothing more than to give in to him. It was Ransom, after all, he was a complete tool sometimes but he always knew how to touch you.

He pulled the blanket down your body until he got to the hem of your sleep bottoms.

"Ransom, stop," you scolded. "I don’t want to ruin the sheets."

"Doesn’t matter, you won’t be sleeping in here anymore."

You turned your head back, catching his hand in yours. "Excuse me?"

"I said you’re done sleeping in here," he repeated. "You’ll be sleeping in our bed again."

"No, actually, I won’t."

He pulled his hand away from you and yanked the blanket away.

"Ransom!" You attempted to start sitting up but he pulled you back down by the shoulder.

Next, he worked on getting your underwear out of his way. There was nothing hot about this—you were wearing a pad because you didn’t want to have to get out of bed for a while and you were probably bleeding heavily. How could he be turned on at all?

He crawled down the mattress until he had your lower half completely free of clothing. He was only wearing his boxers now, the proof of his arousal the only thing you could focus on. You hated this, really, you did...but you knew how good he was about to make you feel...this wasn’t the worst way to deal with your period.

He didn’t want to give you the chance to argue so he quickly returned back to his spot at your back. His large hand pulled at the inside of your thigh, guiding your leg over his hips.

You tried not to want this, not to want him, but you were weak. He wasn’t all bad, you supposed. There was that time he took you to Paris for your birthday, the first one you shared with him. There was that time your parents were sick and had guilted you into taking care of them and the house while they couldn’t, and Ransom had shown up to help—forget all the snark and attitude he received from both you and your parents. And even though you were a completely functioning adult who could do anything for yourself and your career, Ransom was practically your bodyguard. Modeling was hard sometimes. People touched you, they looked at you. And you could always tell when it wasn’t appropriate. Ransom never blamed you, never told you that you’d done something to encourage it. He was unlike past partners in that way.

As he shoved his boxers down, you turned your head back to him.

"What? You okay, you need something?"

You leaned toward him further, paying no mind to the discomfort in your side at the odd angle you were turning yourself. "Just you."

He arched an eyebrow.

You set your hand to his face, fingers gliding along his cheek, under his eye, over his forehead. Why was he so beautiful? Who decided that this man should be given a face like this?

"You sure you’re okay?" he wondered, arm sliding over your waist to pull you in closer.

"My parents think that being with you is a bad decision. That's why they're doing all this shit."

"Yeah, they’re probably right about that."

You shook your head. "You take care of me."

He shrugged a shoulder. "We take care of each other. Now, are you done being sappy? I’d like to fuck you."

You huffed. "Well, that was a rare sweet moment. Thanks for ruining it."

He smiled. "Any time, baby."

Your breath caught when you felt him at your entrance. There was something different about fucking on your period. Maybe it was that you didn’t need the hour of foreplay to be able to take Ransom’s cock semi-comfortably. Or maybe it was just the misplaced intimacy of the whole ordeal. You didn’t hate it, hell, part of you was completely addicted to it.

But why would you ever tell him that? His eyes sparkled like they knew it anyway. Still, he would never have the satisfaction of hearing it.

He took your jaw in his hand, eyes locked on yours as he buried himself inside you.

"Ransom," you gasped. You grabbed his forearm, turning forward to lay your face on the pillow.

He thrust into you at a slow and steady pace. Certainly, he’d fucked you better before, but while you were so sensitive, it was just enough. His hand wound in your hair and he shoved your face down.

You moaned into the pillow as your orgasm built. You ran out of breath quickly and since he had you pinned down, you couldn’t breathe. You began thrashing against him, arms grabbing whatever part of him you could, you locked your leg around him tight so you wouldn’t be able to pull away, and you started to roll your hips back.

“Shit, baby,” he grunted. “Like it when I hold you down?”

You blurted out a response even though you knew he wouldn’t understand. You blamed the thoughtless action on the lack of air you were getting. It was almost thrilling to see where you’d get first, would you finish or would you faint? Would he even care? Would he just keep fucking you? The idea of being used like that did not turn you off as much as you wanted it to.

He did not let you up until you had come and he had gently fucked you through it. You lifted your face from the pillow, greedily taking in oxygen. He moved harder and faster for himself, but just slightly. His hand found your neck and he pulled you closer to him.

You had yet to completely catch your breath but you happily sunk unto his hold, placing one of your hands over his and digging your nails into his skin. He was wrapped around you, warm, maybe somewhat suffocating. This kind of sex was always like this, just toeing that fine line of overwhelming.

His hips stuttered as he turned his face into the bend of your neck. Several more times and he was spilling inside you, body still and cock as deep as you could take it.

He remained inside you as he slowly released your neck and began kissing over the skin there, anything to keep you as full of him as possible. He brushed his hands through your hair and whispered in your ear until he came down from his high.

You both just laid there for a moment, tired and thinking. It was clear he wanted to speak and you were now willing to listen, which were rare states for both of you, even rarer when it occurred simultaneously.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time with your parents lately."

He wanted to talk about your parents? Right now? After that? "They just got back from Scotland."

"Mhm." He leaned over to kiss you for a moment, just a soft press of his lips that was so unlike how he usually kissed you. "But usually, you invite me."

"You never want to go."

"But you always ask."

"I mean, we’ve been fighting, Ransom."

"Or maybe you’re considering other options."

You scoffed. "I’m not doing that, Ransom."

"Well, it’d be stupid if you were. You know no one can fuck you like I can."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you fuck me again? Can you shut up and just fuck me?"

"I understand where they’re coming from, why they don’t like me."

"Ransom," you groaned, shoving his hand away and turning back to the wall.

His fingers began tracing random patterns over your skin. "They think I can’t take care of their little girl, they’re just concerned."

"You know what? Your parents don’t like me either."

"My parents aren’t throwing other women at me—"

"That I know of—"

"No, don’t even try to turn this around. You were on a date with Max—"

"I was not! It was not a date." Only you two. Honestly, only you two would decide to start an argument while he was inside you.

"Megan told me what she saw—"

"And was that after or before you fucked her?"

"Don’t," he warned. "I have been committed to you since the day I met you."

You snorted. "The day you met me? Please. I’m done with this." You began sliding your leg back over but he grabbed your thigh and pulled it back.

He reached forward then, locking his arm around you and sliding his hand under your hip. Finally, he dragged himself back, so slowly.

You shut your eyes and bit your lip to keep quiet.

His hips snapped forward and your surprised yelp followed. "I’ve never dated anyone else—"

"How do I know that?" you demanded. "You’re a liar."

"I’ve never fucked anyone else, I’ve never even looked at anyone else. Since the day I met you, I knew that you were mine."

You weren’t sure if you believed that. Ransom was always complicated, you knew that from day one. You also knew that he knew a lot of women, that he liked to party, that he’d fucked most of his “friends” and that the usual routine was to do so during or after one of those parties.

He had started dragging you along with his friends about four months into your relationship. So, those first four months were always unclear to you. But prior, he would come to your apartment sometimes, smelling of alcohol and perfume and fuck you. You never asked questions and he never offered up the details. He was always gone in the mornings, so you figured that meant no strings.

The relationship change happened somewhat by force. Your parent’s lived about an hour away from your apartment, so it wasn’t often that you visited, but it wasn’t unheard of. One of your oldest friends had had a baby and she decided to return home to stay with her parents, your parent’s neighbors. You thought it would be fun to do the same, so you headed home and easily fell back into that whole scene.

Ransom texted you every day, almost every hour. You weren’t there for more than three weeks when he showed up at three in the morning on a Tuesday, wasted, pounding on the back door. To this day, it is unknown to you how his drunk ass even managed to get into the backyard.

Regardless, he only came because your friend had been posting non-stop pictures on Facebook and tagged you in one that she got of you talking to one of her brothers. Something he'd confessed after he also told you he couldn't stop thinking about you and that he missed you. Your first mistake was believing those lines.

He didn't leave until you agreed to return with him. The drive home was around the time he told you he found your apartment to be a "waste of time". It took him a total of three months to finally convince you to move in with him.

It didn't really matter at the end of the day. You didn't have evidence, but he did. This round was going to go to Ransom if you really kept pushing it. But it wasn't like he was anything near innocent.

"If you ever tell me that this is your house again, I'm leaving. Understood?"

"Yes. And you're not allowed to go on dates with other people. Understood?"

"Understood," you sighed. “Even though it was not a date. I would never date Max.”

He finally smiled. "Great, done fighting?"

You scoffed. "You went through my stuff."

"You hit me."

"I should have hit you more than once," you countered. But you didn't mean that, and you definitely shouldn't have hit him. "That won't happen again."

"I deserved it."

"No, let's just...talk about things, okay? Instead of reacting first and talking later."

He hummed. "Doesn't sound at all like us. But why not give it a shot?"

You’d wanted the house. The shit inside? Gaudy, outdated, mostly picked by Linda. You weren’t in the business of being cruel, however, you told her she could take legal possession of several things. If she wanted to buy it at the yard sale you decided to have.

It was the easiest way to get rid of Harlan’s stuff and to do so respectfully. Fans of his books who were nowhere near as rich as the 1% could still feel a connection to the late author without losing an arm and a leg. Throwing it all away like Ransom had suggested just made you feel like trash. He didn’t understand but he went along with it.

Probably because of how mad it made his mother. You’d decided to let Walt and Joni do a run through and take what they wanted, but since Linda had tried to physically assault Ransom when he told her he’d somehow gotten Marta to sign the house over to him, you were still waiting on her to extend a heartfelt and extensive apology to him. He said it was never going to come, but you figured she just needed a little convincing.

She’d shown up to the yard sale, screaming as Richard tried to reign her in. How could you seriously be selling a nightstand for $5? It was criminal. You were an idiot who had no idea how much this stuff cost. You were a scheming whore who had been planning this from day one. It was a pretty entertaining show, even Jacob agreed. He’d told you that night that her meltdown already had a million views.

Ransom was absent most of the yard sale. He did not want to talk to people and he did not want them talking to him. He showed up when he heard his mother shrieking and called the cops because he was a little bored. When they showed up, she started throwing things. It was nothing short of what you had expected, but when she started throwing things at Ransom, that was different.

She needed more convincing, you decided.

After the yard sale that only lasted three days—impressive considering Harlan was basically a hoarder—you were finally moving in. You pleaded with Ransom to hire no one. You wanted to do this with him. You wanted to pack and unpack just the two of you.

He acted like you were trying to murder him when you’d first asked, but he came around. You guys started with the closets, knowing that would be the most complex process. It took an entire day to move it all in and organize since the house was empty, you guys ended up sleeping on about twenty blankets on the bedroom floor.

Nothing was staying the same, mostly Ransom wanted to upset his family, but you just wanted to create a new home. You didn’t want to feel like you were living in Harlan’s house, you wanted to make it your own.

You weren’t taking Harlan’s room, that would be weird, and it was also an abnormally small room. The biggest room in the house was Joni’s former room, it had been empty since Neal died. Harlan refused to let anyone move anything that belonged to his son, but that was no longer an issue. It was also the only room with two closets, it was perfect.

Meg took Harlan’s room and Joni would keep hers. Walt, Donna, and Jacob were moved into one room, a decision made by Ransom. You didn’t necessarily agree but you weren’t going to start a fight with him for that subsection of the family. Especially since they were hardly ever going to be over, maybe just for the major holidays. Linda and Richard’s room under the stairs would remain but Linda was banned from the house until you felt satisfied with her attempts to gain Ransom’s forgiveness.

Not that he was actually upset with her, but he should have been! Something you did not hesitate to tell him any time you guys spoke about the issue. Regardless, any time Linda stepped foot on the property, the cops would be called.

Anything that belonged personally to Harlan, like his study, his office, the library, Ransom took special joy in taking everything out of it. He got rid of the books, the furniture, those stupid knives. He realized the books and the knives were very valuable and placed those online for bid. He didn’t want the money but he didn’t think it smart to sell them the same way you were selling everything else.

He didn’t tell you what he did with the money, but you saw a few emails a few days after the last knife was gone. He’d donated it. Ransom fucking Drysdale donated money! A few no-kill animal shelters, a couple of cancer foundations, a few domestic violence organizations, and then Planned Parenthood. Was it weird that you went to find him directly after just because you wanted to have sex with him? Like, you still knew he was a fucking asshole, but this was very nice.

The house was empty finally, save for the closets, of course. It was time to move all the boxes in and after, you guys could go shopping. That was the part you were both truly looking forward to. Ransom was going crazy without a bed, but he’d taken to fucking you against the wall, so not a major loss.

It only took about three hours, but Ransom acted like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Well, it probably was. You were getting ready to go out furniture shopping. You were thinking of ways to talk Ransom into painting with you, not just getting someone to take care of it. Harlan seemed to be a fan of ugly wallpaper and flat colors. Also, ugly lamps, shades, and curtains. That was the first round of replacements, the furniture would be arriving within the next few days. You had to sign for so much and it was getting difficult keeping the times and scheduling, the last thing you wanted was to double-schedule anything and waste someone’s time.

You were rummaging through the unopened boxes when Ransom came downstairs. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah, have you seen my planner?”

“I think I packed it.”

“Do you happen to remember which box?”

“Keep getting ready, I’ll look for it.”

You smiled, turning up to find him texting. “Your mother?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Just some more threatening. Maybe we should lift the ban—”

“No way.”

“Y/N—”

“Ransom, she tried to hit you. And then she was throwing things at you. Look, as shitty as my parents are, something can be said for the fact that they never hit me. That’s not actually normal.”

“She didn’t hit me when I was younger, don’t try to make this some battered child thing.”

“Ransom, this is our house and I don’t feel comfortable having your mother here until she understands that any sort of abuse directed at you is not okay…okay?”

He sighed. “Why is this the hill you want to die on?”

“I’m sorry that I dislike bad parents.”

“We all have bad parents,” he pointed out. “Everyone rich has bad parents because bad parents raise bad parents. It’s been the cycle since the creation of people who feel comfortable stepping on the poor to further their wealth.”

“Okay, don’t try to distract me by saying things that only an aware person would say.”

“I am aware. I just choose to ignore it. Wish you would do the same.”

“Really? Then why did you donate all that money, Ransom?”

“To get you to fuck me.”

You snorted. “Please, you know I’ve fucked you for a lot less money than that. And you’re wrong, okay? Not everyone rich has bad parents. My friend who had the baby a few years ago? Great parents.”

“I mean, I saw their house, they’re not that rich.”

“They don’t show off!” you corrected. “And don’t imply that you and I will ever be like our parents. My mother was controlling, and my father was dismissive, and Linda is insane and god, I can’t even explain how fucked up your father is. We are nothing like that and we never would be if…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “If we had kids?”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to say.”

He scoffed. “Yes, it was.”

“No, but…sure, that’s true. If we ever had kids…we would not be like that. I wouldn’t force our daughters to model or sing—did you know she tried to make me sing? Like, be an actual fucking singer. And I’m never going to try to make them be in a relationship with someone that they don’t like. You will not hit them, and you won’t…fuck our babysitter or our housekeeper or…whatever else, if we ever hire any of them.”

“Yeah?”

“But since you’re giving me that fucking smug look, you should know, there isn’t enough money in the world that could ever get me to carry your fucking children. Fucking sociopaths is what they’ll be, I’m sure. Terrible, little monsters just like you.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck you, Ransom, I’m going to do my makeup.”

He smiled. “I’ll look for your planner.”

You turned for the staircase with a heavy sigh. This was annoying because he still hadn’t said he loved you. It had been years and you had said it, and he did not, but he felt totally okay making fun of you for hinting that maybe one day, you guys would be a normal couple. Whatever, you would not let it bring you down, you would just retaliate by making him spend a lot of money.

You were just about finished when you heard him storming up the stairs. His mother? Maybe Joni. “Ransom?”

He walked into the room, holding a vibrator that he’d torn out of the box. “Are you serious?”

“Okay, that was unopened! You would know that if you weren’t some entitled child that just goes around ripping open boxes, Ransom!”

“I can’t actually believe you have this!”

“I haven’t used it!”

“Then why do you have it?!”

“Because…” you began.

He lifted his eyebrows.

“You might make me mad and I might need to repeat what I did the last time.”

“I cannot believe you would actually bring this into our house.”

“My god, Ransom, it’s not cocaine. Can we dial down the dramatics today?”

“You know what? You should keep this because I’m not fucking you any time soon.” He tossed it onto the counter and stomped out of the bedroom.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled. “You’re so fucking unbelievable!”

#ransom drysdale x reader #i hate that i'm still so in love with this loser #but heyyy andy barber taking me away (tbh i'll be back. i can multitask)#my writing

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silenthillmutual · 4 years

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[ID: Anonymous said: this isnt like, a demand or request, just an expression of interest - you mentioned in your daniil-is-autistic post that you also think artemy is neurodivergent, and i would really enjoy seeing a similar post on that topic. thank you, have a nice day.]

(anon is referring to this post!)

i do have some thoughts that i would like to share about that topic! however comma, it probably will not be as in-depth as my post about daniil, as i am myself autistic and have had a couple years since being diagnosed to ruminate on places where that has affected my life, and so it’s easier to write about coming from a place of personal experience. i can do the same with depression, for the same reason.

i have a couple of ideas about what artemy could have:

adhd

ptsd

ocd

i won’t really be going into ptsd or ocd on this post because i feel like it’s more difficult to point the ptsd out (artemy doesn’t talk much about or flashback at all to being on the front) and because i think ocd should have its own post. it is severely misunderstood, even by other neurodivergent people. plus i think all four of the healers have it (or aspects of it), and this post is about artemy.

i feel like… something about the dsmv diagnostic criteria for adhd feels condescending to me, like it feels the way it’s worded places a lot of the blame on the person who has it? and some of the criteria like “fails to follow through on instructions”, “does not seem to listen when spoken to directly”, “has trouble holding attention on tasks” can depend greatly on the player. not as much of that is baked into artemy’s character and dialogue in the same way that social ineptitude, which is a core feature of autism, is baked into daniil’s character and dialogue.

with that being said: while i will include a few things from the diagnostic dsmv diagnositic criteria as listed on the cdc website, i am going to primarily be thinking about accounts from people with adhd. i have several friends with adhd (and i suspect that i may have it, though i’ve only come to suspect this recently and have had less time to think on it) whose experiences i will be taking into account.

other links to sources i am referring to: [adhd/autism venn diagram by tfw-adhd] [what those symptoms look like in adults, by chadd] [ptsd criteria on brainline] [ocd criteria on beyondocd]

vague spoilers for pathologic classic & pathologic 2

very briefly & quickly: ptsd & ocd

the problem with going into it is this game is already a very difficult and anxiety-inducing world because of the plague and i’d argue that any of the healers could have one or both of these either before the outbreak or after it, so here are some things that stick out to me for

ptsd - overly negative thoughts or assumptions about oneself or the world (can overlap with adhd; artemy has the option to repeatedly blame himself for his father’s death), negative affect, feeling isolated, irritability or aggression, risky or destructive behavior, hypervigilance (any game that dabbles in horror aspects will expect this from you), difficulty sleeping (overlaps with adhd), depersonalization (this is a core aspect of the theatre theme of the game)

ocd - without going through the entire ybocs, i’ll just say that i think all three healers struggle with hoarding (understandably and by necessity) and hypermorality (all three protagonists believe they are the one and only person who is right, rubin is awfully judgmental of people who don’t abide by his personal standards). compulsions would be easier to point out in the game than the obsessions they are linked to, as we’re not exactly privvy to intrusive thoughts outside of the dreams. you could, however, say that artemy struggles with intrusive thoughts of causing harm even inadvertantly and argue that he takes measures to ensure that he doesn’t, won’t, and hasn’t. in classic, this is highly dependent on playstyle.

[this is my standard disclaimer that i have an official diagnosis of ptsd so i’m not just pulling this out of nowhere and am about 98% sure i have obsessive-compulsive disorder, and have researched it thoroughly.]

what’s built into the game: making careless mistakes, poor planning skills, time blindness / anxiety, executive dysfunction

pathologic is a game that sometimes feels like you’re being set up for failure. something that i missed talking about in my previous post is that it often feels like an autism/adhd simulator because it is, in classic, so very easy to screw yourself over and get locked out of an objective by picking the wrong dialogue option. while some of the correct dialogue options are obvious, others feel like a guessing game and you have to just hope you’re picking the right thing and have made a save file at the right place to go back and pick different options in the case that you’ve bungled something. hence, “making careless mistakes”. it’s a little bit easier in 2, as dialogue options that end a conversation are indicated with a diamond (thank you to whomever decided on that!), but it makes up for this by being unforgiving in other aspects. i believe the difficulty settings for imago state that the game is intended to be “almost unbearable” - and lots of people have difficulty completing it on the intended difficulty without cheats. (do not discourse about this on my post.) the game invites you to make careless mistakes and either live with or learn from them.

keeping this in mind, you’re kind of expected to have “poor planning skills” on at least your first time playing it. part of the game’s point is that you can’t do everything, and you can’t save everyone. not paying close enough attention or interpreting the instructions of the game just right in classic can cost you the lives of several of your bound.

that also feeds into time blindness & time anxiety. classic & 2 do these in different ways. in classic, you can’t run, so you have to hope you’re not busy doing something else or else hope that all of your letters come in at a time where you can hit up all the places you need to go, or you’re going to be cutting it short on time for the day. in 2, you can run, but there are far more sidequests to be completed than in classic.

i’d also argue that executive dysfunction is a core aspect of the game. you are very busy and very poor and items are very expensive, meaning that unless you know what you’re in for, either you or the town is low on resources or funds or time to do things like eat, sleep, and take care of your aches, immunity, and infection. all of which can be avoided if you don’t make careless mistakes, have good planning skills, and can manage your time wisely.

“interrupts or intrudes on others”

i don’t appear to have a screenshot of him doing this in 2, but he and daniil do have at least one conversation in which they keep interrupting each other. peak autism/adhd solidarity.

i do, however, have a screenshot example of him doing this to clara in pathologic classic

Haruspex: …Wait a second. If there was nothing but the great Bull, where did the stars and light come from? Changeling: Oh, don’t interrupt!

and as for intruding - khan feels that he does this frequently: intruding on him and capella at the station, intruding on him and notkin at the broken heart, and here he is intruding on kids at the nutshell:

We have so few places of our own - only a couple. And yet you feel the urge to impose yourself even here. Do you know what childhood is? It’s slavery. Herders treat their cattle better than parents treat their children. They lock us up like objects, mold us like statues, and still never take us remotely seriously.

he also intrudes on clara talking with block on day 11, either completely oblivious to the fact that he’s doing it or outright ignoring that he is.

“is often ‘on the go’“

i could say that this is one that is built into the way the game is organized, and it’s true! but his time spent with lara comes to mind. she’s not the only one to mention his restlessness, but i don’t keep screenshots of big vlad on hand so their day 1 dialogue is lost to the wind.

Aren’t you supposed to be terribly busy? I don’t understand why you keep coming. Or do you need my help again? I’ll wash your clothes. You’re filthy, like a chimney sweep. Revolting. While they dry, have some sleep.

“often fidgets […] or squirms in seat”

like with daniil’s body language, i don’t have any gifs to show to prove this. i’m really looking forward to seeing what idle animations he gets in the other two routes. for now i know that in the lucid dream, if you use flycam you can see him idling by swaying and rubbing his chin & that in other pantomimes he can be found constantly turning his head and looking around.

sleep problems

i don’t have the screen shot so just pretend that i do - he mentions this to the fellow traveler on, i think, day one when you go to the dead item shop. in either game, you can also only sleep for a maximum of six hours at a time, which is like..two hours less than the recommended amount, unless that’s changed.

little sense of danger & impulsivity

As usual, I act first and think later. I’ve made a panacea. But from what? What blood was that? Whose blood was that? To cure the Town, I’ll need to figure that out.

there’s actually no dialogue i can think of that addresses the danger of the situation he’s in - which is sort of the reason why i included it! though i am absolutely obsessed with classic artemy threatening grief, kingpin of the villains in town:

Bad Grief: That ain’t good! Got too soft a heart or something? Soft, eh… Well, can’t blame you. Haruspex: Got too hard of a bone structure? You watch it. I’ll break them in no time.

artemy has little to no problem offering to help daniil get ahold of organs and blood:

Bachelor: Exactly. I need tissues of a person who died of the Sand Plague. I need them today, right now! I’ve tried to get them at the cemetary, but failed miserably. The patrolmen are vigilantly watching over the dead. Haruspex: Would you like me to get you some? Bachelor: I’d reward you generously for that. Haruspex: Deal. I’ll do what I can, even though I still don’t have the right to.

‘even though i still don’t have the right to’ - he knows it’s illegal and could easily lose him reputation, but he jumps at the chance to do so. part of his route requires you being in constant danger, but later on there are options to tell daniil you won’t help him. this isn’t one of them.

in pathologic 2, you can also instigate fights with people by, to name a few: refusing to leave the house in the atrium where they have a person bound and gagged upstairs, not leaving barley the barber in grief’s lair, and picking the wrong dialogue option with the guys in the broken heart on day 11.

as referenced above, his impulsivity sometimes shows in the dialogue options you can choose. you can say things that clearly haven’t been thought through all the way. for example, this is what he says to clara bout her parents:

I wonder what you did to your old ones. There was someone gullible enough to adopt you?

and this is how she replies:

Clara: What? Why would you say that? I never even knew them. I’ve been an orphan for as long as I can remember. Artemy: I didn’t know. Right, that’s what I figured.

it’s not all that different from the sort of tactless comment a person with autism might make.

no motivation for tasks you are not interested in & hyperfixations

in pathologic 2, on day 3, daniil asks artemy to be his aide in developing a vaccine. artemy’s responses are all something dismissive and frequently quite rude. here’s the end of that conversation:

Bachelor: I will make the vaccine, but I can’t do it without you. All you need to do is be at hand and do as I say. I will take full responsibility for the situation. Haruspex: Perhaps I’ll drop by… if I have the time.

guess what never happens?

it’s understandable that the panacea is artemy’s main goal. what makes it stick out to me as a hyperfixation specifically is that, while a vaccine is daniil’s main goal, daniil manages to ask artemy about his progress with the panacea.

Bachelor: Anyway, how’s it going? Any progress?

the interest is never reciprocated.

emotional dysregulation & rejection sensitivity dysphoria

i personally think this is the most striking piece of evidence. every single perceived sleight can invoke a drastic reaction in artemy. just take day 3 for example - the perceived sleight here is the belief (based on no evidence) that daniil was snubbing him or trying to exclude him from the meeting:

Bachelor: Burakh. The situation is regretful. I just didn’t have time to warn you. Haruspex: This was ugly of you.

and then he proceeds to get into an argument with him. he can, in fact, get into snits with not just daniil, but with rubin and lara as well. i will not be taking sides in this, because who is right / who is wrong is not really the point, the point is how artemy responds to perceived sleights with increased emotional agitation.

when capella upsets him by telling him she’s taking the kids from under his care for their own protection, he can respond by comparing her to her horrible capitalist pig of a father:

You truly are your father’s daughter. Children always succeed their parents…

i can’t even remember what was said to him to get him to reply this, only that it was said to him by a teenager:

I’m a surgeon. Ever considered having your tongue removed?

he also holds onto murky’s repetitious “what is there about you to love? nothing. so i don’t.” and brings it up to her when she is infected with the sand plague on day 10. though it does bring the rather heartwarming line about murky having loved him from the start, my point remains that he has not been able to stop thinking about something murky has said that she has obviously already changed her mind about by this point in time in the game.

difficulties making & keeping friends

remember what i said about the interest in daniil’s vaccine not being reciprocated? yeah. friends, acquaintances, colleagues - they all kind of expect you to take an interest in their lives. this is where autism & adhd overlap, from my understanding - both can come with an inability to recognize social cues. in fact, i’m going to use the same example now that i used in my post about daniil (it is, after all, what inspired this ask):

Bachelor: From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

daniil thinks they’ve been having a normal conversation, but artemy hasn’t picked up on whatever social cues he’s been using. this could easily be on either one of them. though i will say, some of my easiest friendships as a person with autism have been with people who have adhd. which is why i’d suggest that daniil saying he’ll tell artemy about thanatica “the way i’d tell a close, intimate friend” is autism/adhd solidarity. despite initially not getting along, they are clearly able to communicate with each other.

i think the rest of this is really self-explanatory. despite being from the town in classic, artemy doesn’t actually appear to have any friends in it. could be a symptom of him having left much ealier (ten years ago as opposed to the five in pathologic 2), but in pathologic 2 his friendships are constantly under threat of spontaneous combustion. this day three conversation with lara sums it up nicely:

Lara: Ugh, whatever. Like it’s any of my business… Do whatever you want. Did you make peace with stakh? Artemy: Doesn’t look like it… Forget Stakh. I see now that I’m one step away from falling out with you. Why?

there’s a variety of reasons why his friendships are falling apart. but it occurs to me that there’s no mention of artemy communicating with his friends at all while he was gone, and maybe that’s contributing to it. this is not an attempt to pick sides (i think everybody’s wrong), i am just pointing this out.

adhd in adults: history of academic or career underachievement, relationship problems due to not completing tasks, chronic stress and worry over failure to accomplish goals, chronic and intense feelings of frustration / guilt / blame

artemy did not finish med school. classic has him described as a “vagrant scholar” traveling from town to town to learn instead of staying in the capital where he was sent (”always ‘on the go’” indeed). in pathologic 2 he simply states that he doesn’t have a degree and that he sucked at latin.

relationship problems mentioned under “making and keeping friendships”, but it should be noted that you can repair your friendships by completing a sidequest on day 3 to gather everyone together.

“chronic stress and worry over failure to accomplish goals” is sort of the entirety of pathologic 2. you could say it’s built into the game, but artemy does express a lot of stress over not knowing where to turn for answers, has bizarre prophetic dreams, and is plagued by… well, the plague taunting him for not being to save his bound. both when notkin gets sick on day 4 and when all of the children get sick on day 10, he can express an extreme amount of guilt for not having the ability to cure them.

i mentioned under ptsd that artemy has a tendency to be able to blame himself for his father’s death, and i think that fits under here as well. there’s also this:

I get anxious thinking about my kids… Are they faring all right in the Lair without me?

conclusion

i do not know if i have adhd myself and i am sure there are things i am missing, especially as i have not completed artemy’s route in classic yet or started clara’s. feel free to contribute to this, i would love to see others’ input!

#icarus.txt #icarus answers #artemy burakh #pathologic meta

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 4 Part 4

Hello, once again, another piece of Midnight Striga for your reading pleasure!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!!

With a grunt of exhaustion, Boscha crashed to the floor. The spar had dragged on just long enough to make her and the demon long for rest without them actually needing it. While it may not have been the nightmare she had been dreading when she saw Luz’s smile, it was certainly its own kind of hell. ‘But,’ she mused, a small grin forming, ‘At least I’m starting to make real progress.’ She slowly traced a circle, free of the instability that seemed to plague every spell she formed lately, a small flame forming in front of her. She chuckled to herself at the irony.

Here she was, captain of the Grudgby team, Fire Magic Specialist and Potionist in Training, and she was reduced to the most basic spells she knew of. The fact that she could even get this little flame, no bigger than her thumbs pressed together, without worry was a vast improvement over where she started after that day. She sighed, hauling herself to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Luz pouring over that strange crystal thing she had brought in; it was sort of like a Scroll, apparently, not that Boscha understood how. Helping the so-called Demon King to his feet, they wandered back over to Luz.

“Ahem!” Boscha cleared her throat, prompting Luz to throw up her arms in shock, suddenly scrambling to secure her… Terminal, she called it? “So, how did we do?” She said calmly, raising a brow as Luz sheepishly chuckled.

“As much as it pains me to be in agreement with the interloper,” King began, prompting a tick-mark of annoyance from Boscha, “I too wish to know just how impressive I am, and how I can become even greater!!” It took a lot of effort for Boscha not to yell at the little menace for the ‘interloper’ comment, it’s not like she intended to come here!

“Now King,” Luz lightly admonished, “A ruler must be gracious to their guests, even unexpected ones. While you may not be comfortable with Boscha’s presence, and understandably irritated from your earlier encounter, that must not influence your behavior and judgement. A King looks after his Kingdom, and all who dwell within it.” Boscha honestly expected the pompous little demon to start screaming at that, so she was genuinely surprised that he only grumbled slightly and kicked at the ground. “If you apologize for being rude, and say it like you mean it, I’ll get you some snacks later.”

“Hmm… Deal!” King agreed. He turned to Boscha and visibly pulled himself up to his full height. “As the King of Demons, I offer my sincerest apologies for my conduct. Will you accept it?” Boscha had to admit, he certainly sounded sincere. She figured he wasn’t, but it was still impressive.

“I accept your apologies… your majesty.” Boscha said, only reluctantly tacking on the last bit at Luz’s expectant look. How was she so good at getting under Boscha’s skin?

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Luz drawled, a too-pleased look on her face. “Let’s take a look at what you can work on.” Boscha and King both made inquisitive noises as she turned the screen of the Terminal towards them, eyes widening as they saw their fight lay across the screen. It was something you could see on any Scroll, but this certainly cemented the fact that Humans had some analog to the communications device.

An image appeared, Boscha launching some rocks that had cracked off the ceiling in response to King’s first spell like Grudgby balls. She remembered the stinging sensation in her hands at that stunt, but the sight of King frantically dancing out of the way on screen brought a tiny smile to her face. “Boscha, you displayed some solid tactics, not instantly going for your magic and using your environment to attack with you. However,” She let the video play, showing Boscha rapidly spinning up Spells to launch… only for them to detonate and send her flying back, King sprawled on the floor in laughter at her expression. “Your muscle memories for Spell Casting, while ordinarily a useful trait for combat if you can avoid overly recognizable patterns, are hindering you while you’re recovering your skill.” Luz finished.

Luz turned to King, who straightened up with a gulp. She narrowed her eyes. “Now, on to King.” She turned back to the Terminal, tapping away rapidly before pulling up some new scenes from their spar, King nervously ringing his paws. Another video popped up, showing King launching his spell towards Boscha, thankfully without any sound coming through. The on-screen Boscha avoided the massive spell by the skin of her teeth, Boscha’s ears ringing in sympathy at her memory. She grinned at the sight of King panting after his spell ended, only to yelp and run as her on-screen double rushed him in anger. “King, I’m gonna be blunt, your magic is powerful, but it’s incredibly draining, and the fact you are totally still while using it means that when the spell ends, you are basically defenseless.” King sheepishly kicked his feet, glancing to the side, while Luz looked on.

Luz cracked again. “I got to say, I’m impressed.” She chuckled at the dumbfounded looks she received. “I’m serious, the two of you did way better than I thought you would.”

“Well, how did you think we’d do?” King tentatively asked.

“I expected you to exhaust yourself inside of a few minutes blasting away at Boscha,” Luz bluntly replied, steam-rolling past his squawk of outrage, “and I expected Boscha to lose focus and just keep trying to cast spells.” Boscha would’ve been offended, but that honestly sounded like something she would’ve done if she hadn’t gotten that demonstration of how powerful the demon’s spell was. Luz smirked. “There isn’t a whole lot I can do to help right now, but in the long run, I think I can sketch out some training regimes to cover your respective weak spots.”

Boscha and King exchanged glances, then nodded. It made sense to them. With that settled, the three decided to head back upstairs. Boscha idly wondered why Luz had the hesitant look in her eyes when she said there wasn’t much she could do, though.

Luz groaned internally, resisting the urge to slam her head against the nearest wall. She was absolutely certain that the debriefing she had gone through with Boscha and King had been a disaster. She had visually confirmed how haphazardly they had gone about things in their spar, even if they had been smarter about it than she thought they would be going in, and had basically admitted that she had thought they would’ve been brain-dead rookies only to be proven wrong! Why had she agreed to taking that job!? Oh, right, because it gave her a way to help people and covertly undermine an undoubtedly corrupt regime starting with the youth; curse her bleeding heart!

As she gathered up the assorted snacks and drinks, making care to remember to grab the treats she had promised King, she wandered out of the Kitchen. As she entered the backroom the group was using to discuss things while Eda got her rest, she was surprised to see Boscha and King laughing about something like old buddies. She spoke up, bemused. “Well, don’t you two look chummy.”

“Oh-hohoho My Titan! Luz! Boscha just told me the funniest story about a Slingshot, a Stink Potion, anda Coven Guard!” King cackled, pounding on the table as he laughed.

“Oh, really? Now this I got to hear.” Luz mused, setting the assorted drinks and snacks on the table. Half a minute later, she was pounding her fist on the table right beside King, tears of uncontrolled laughter gushing down her face. Boscha looked painfully smug at the reaction her story had gotten. “Pffff! W-W-With the Gu-guard! A-And the B-bom-b! And the Cheese!! How you did all that and didn’t get caught, I will never know!!”

“Yeah! I didn’t get caught! That’s what happened!” Boscha sheepishly chuckled, deciding against telling them she had to be bailed out by her parents for that stunt. At least it was funny, though.

As the group enjoyed the treats Luz had brought back, Luz let out a sigh of content. “This is nice.”

“Yeah.” Boscha mused, feeling relaxed after the… drama from before. “Not what I expected from the Owl Lady’s place.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?” King queried. Luz was just as lost. Eda’s reputation wasn’t that bad, was it?

Boscha blinked, puzzled. “Wait, are you saying that you guys don’t know?” She said, something like shocked awe in her voice.

“Know what, Boscha.” Luz droned.

“Well…” Boscha drawled, still shocked at their lack of knowledge on the topic. “When it comes to the Owl Lady, rumors have always been flying around.”

King snorted. “Trust me, we know. We live with her, remember?”

“As I was saying.” Boscha enunciated tightly after being cut off. Her voice dropped into a deeper, more… mysterious sounding register. “Years ago, a Witch studied at Hexside who was gifted beyond compare. Considered a once in a lifetime prodigy, her skill at learning magic, using it, and her sheer power were without equal in her age group, even outclassing some adults. Her name was Edalyn Clawthorne.”

Luz and King paused, allowing themselves to sink into the story. They had to admit, some of what Boscha was saying lined up with Eda, ability wise at least.

“However, despite her incredible gifts, Eda was a maverick,” Boscha continued. “She openly held rules and order in contempt, and sneered at those who upheld them. Still, she was desired by the Covens, all vying for her incredible gifts, even those outside of her chosen track wanting to tap into her great power for their own agendas. Such attention made her arrogant, believing she was above the constraints of others.”

Luz and King deadpanned; while it was phrased more harshly than the reality, that was definitely Eda being described.

“One day, during tryouts for the Covens, particularly for a spot in the Emperor’s personal Coven, Edalyn boldly and publicly denounced the Coven System, proclaiming it beneath her. The crowd was shocked, unable to comprehend such a thing. As she walked away, smug in her superiority, she collapsed in pain.”

Luz and King leaned in, paying close attention to the details.

“Before the gaze of the crowd, Edalyn’s body twisted, growing in size. Feathers sprouted from her arms, her hands and feet twisting into sharp talons. Her body warped into an Avian form, sprouting wings large and powerful enough to hold her aloft. Her eyes became as dark as night, drinking in even the brightest of lights. Her jaw warped to accommodate a mountain of jagged fangs. She had become the Owl Beast.” Boscha paused, with Luz and King gasping in shock at the tale.

Clearing her throat and taking a drink, Boscha continued. “As the transformation ended, the monstrous beast was beheld by the crowd, and found to be repulsive, a monster. The crowd jeered, and chased the beast into the woods, it’s haunting cries echoing through the town. Eventually, Edalyn returned, and proclaimed herself a Wild Witch, and an enemy of the Covens. The Emperor’s Coven declared her transformation a punishment from the Titan for defying the system, making her to be an example. And thus, the Owl Lady was born.” Boscha finished, voice returning to normal. She leaned back, adding, “And ever since then, she’s basically been used as a scary story by parents to warn their kids about the dangers of pride and going against the system.”

Boscha shrugged. “I mean, I never really believed the story, not any more than any of the other kids, but it was still a big thing to learn about, and a lot of the more free-spirited kids growing up got less outspoken after hearing her story.” She paused, scratching her chin in thought. “It probably makes it more believable that she lives outside of town and regularly shows up and causes trouble. Seeing someone described as a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy reduced to a crazy old bat, no offense,” She quickly raised her hands placatingly at an angry King and Luz, “probably made a lot of kids treat the warning more seriously.”

Luz froze, not entirely sure how to process this. King was stock still, glancing at his pauses in confusion. Clearing her throat, Luz spoke up. “Well, that was certainly entertaining, I’ll admit, but how does anyone know she actually-”

“HOOOOOTTTTT!!”

Luz abruptly cut off at the sound of Hooty’s pained scream. The three glanced at each other, before quickly rushing out the door. As they crashed into the Living Room, they froze in horror. The place was ripped apart, the couch shredded, the assorted piles of random junk strewn about, Hooty’s door knocked off its hinges with Hooty himself out cold. Claw marks covered the walls.

The three scanned the room, stomachs filling with dread. As they wandered the room, Luz took stock of the damage; whatever had caused this either wasn’t very high on the intelligence level, or was insanely scared and angry. King crawled over to Hooty, sniffing at him, feeling a surprising degree of relief at the sound of his breathing. Boscha positioned herself in the center of the room, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Just as she was about to speak up, Boscha stilled, feeling hot, heavy breathing across the back of her neck.

With trepidation, Boscha slowly turned around, blanching at the sight behind her. A large, feathery body, twice as tall as she was. Long heavy wings pressed tight against its sides, but doubtless capable of spreading to full length in an instant. Deep pools of darkness where its eyes would be. A jaw filled with jagged fangs. Boscha screamed. The beast roared. Its claws slashed down towards the panicked witch.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #boscha the owl house #king the owl house #hooty the owl house #eda clawthorne #magic

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mcheang · 4 years

Note

How about a sequel to Volpina reverse crush AU where Lila is jealous of Mari and tries to sabotage her but fails cuz everyones on Maris side. Mari(gently) confronts her Lila snaps at her Alay records livesteam all H word breaks loose 4 lila even worse

Fighting a losing battle

Volpina reverse crush AU sequel

Lila is a class pariah at first, until she makes a heartwrenching apology that fools the soft-hearted suckers like Rose and Marinette. They do invite her to eat with them but the rest of the class is more leery of her apology, knowing that Lila only cares about herself if she just tosses others’ belongings into the trash. But out of respect to their friends, they let Lila sit with them and just ignore her.

Lila tries to cozy up to Adrien but he avoids her like the plague. The only reason she gets close enough is because he is trying to get Marinette away from her.

It is absolutely sickening to watch Adrien fawn over Marinette. He keeps close by so he can be ready to catch her should she fall. He keeps calling her by that overly sweet pet name Princess.

What makes it infuriating is that Marinette is utterly oblivious to Adrien’s flirting. Seriousy, all those offers out to restaurants and cafes, unnecessary drives to her home, and hand kisses!

A gorgeous specimen like Adrien is wasted on the imbecile that is Marinette.

Maybe if Adrien could realize that, his heart would move on. First she had to get into the Friend zone before that could happen.

Lila asks Marinette how she can befriend Adrien. Marinette suggests a video game party. Yeah, the only reason Adrien acknowledges Lila is because Marinette pleaded for him to give her a second chance. How could he say no to those baby blue eyes? Adrien doesn’t want to look bad in front of his crush. Understandable.

Once Lila is sure Adrien is alright with being friends with her (he isn’t. she makes him feel uncomfortable) she proceeds to sabotage Marinette.

1. Steal Marinette’s planner so all her fundraising and class trip plans are ruined. Fail: Alya has a back up copy

2. Humiliate Marinette by putting exploding paint in her locker. Fail: Adrien offers Marinette his outer jacket and the girls help Marinette clean up.

3. Steal Marinette’s sketchbook so she can’t complete her commissions in time. Fail: Marinette’s tears end up with Adrien asking Markov to check the security feed. Lila has to hastily plant the evidence in front of Nathaniel so he can announce he found the sketchbook before she is exposed.

4. Frame Marinette of cheating and theft (she can’t push Marinette into someone else because she is known for clumsiness and Lila can’t pretend to be pushed because of her record). Fail: The test answers were stolen after it was over and the lockers are unlocked. The stolen item was Rose’s perfume but she believes in Marinette.

Marinette is curious about why these horrible things keep happening to her. Markov hacks the security feed and exposes Lila.

Upset, Marinette confronts Lila. She denies it at first before finally showing her true colours.

“It’s about time you realized it. For the class president, you don’t really know your classmates as well as you should.”

Marinette was baffled. “But why? I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

Lila scoffed. “Nice? What can I do with nice? The entire class looks up to you as this amazing designer. Celebrities endorse you. Paris’ cutest boy looks at you like you’re an angel descended from Heaven. Yet you do absolutely nothing to take advantage of all that. Their admiration is wasted on someone so obtuse!”

Marinette paused. “So you’re just jealous of me?”

That simple, gentle accusation got to Lila. How dare Marinette reduce her, the pretty and silver tongued Italian, to nothing more than a petty, jealous girl?

Lila lunged at Marinette and there was a brief tussle as Marinette tried to get the crazy girl off her.

“That’s enough Lila!”

The girls paused, looking up to see Alya walk around the corner, her phone recording everything.

Footsteps were heard running towards them.

“Get off Marinette. Now.” Alya commanded.

Lila slowly obeyed, her eyes trained on the phone.

Alya noticed and gave a wink. “It’s been livestreaming.”

Lila wanted to shriek with rage.

“Marinette!” The cry came from Adrien as he rushed to help Marinette up, pushing Lila away from her.

Marinette assured the model. “I’m alright.”

Adrien gently stroked the scratches on her neck. “No, you’re not,” he said softly and sadly.

The class gathered around them, some glaring at Lila, others fussing over Marinette.

“What the hell, Lila?”

“Come on, Marinette, let’s take you to the nurse.”

“I’m not even surprised. We all knew she was a lying fox.”

“Don’t drag foxes into this. Rena Rouge’s name doesn’t deserved to be besmirched by this wannabe.”

“Careful, don’t trip.”

Alya: You’re coming with me to the principal’s office now.

Lila is expelled for assaulting and bullying a classmate.

She stews over her defeat, imagining Adrien catering to Marinette’s every need. Oh come on. All she did was inflict a few scratches.

To make matters worse, Alya had been live-streaming on her blog. Mrs Rossi is struggling to find any respectable school in Paris that would take her in.

She can’t. Lila is infamous throughout Paris, especially after Nadja reported on Alya’s video, and Jagged Stone himself blacklisted Lila to his global fan club. Even Adrien’s fans have gotten in on the fun.

The only options are for Lila to either be sent to live with her strict grandparents in their obscure hometown of nowhere, or go to a correcting school for delinquents.

Does it matter what school she goes to? Thanks to Jagged, there will always be someone at whatever school who knows who she is and will have the proof to back it up. At least with her Mother, Lila has more freedom.

Lila’s Mother is fired because her parenting of Lila, and even ends up being akumatized, not that Hawkmoth hadn’t been sending akumas after the outraged classmates and Lila herself before that. It was Gabriel who sent a charge against Lila for sexual harassing his Son. He got quite a few akumas over that.

Mrs Rossi decides to move them back to her parents’ home after all. They can’t stay in Paris and there is no more reason to now that she is unemployed.

Lila’s life in Italy is miserable because now her guardians have every excuse to invade her privacy. They call her every hour, call her Teachers daily, and even check her email and internet history! Lila’s sleep is interrupted as her guardians have taken it in turns to check that Lila is asleep every hour of the early morning. Don’t they have a life of their own?

Everybody at her new school mocks her. A few kind ones offer to be her Friend but Lila’s tearful acceptance was treated with skepticism by the cruel majority. No one wants to listen to Lila. She is nobody and she is unheard. It is like she is not even there.

At home she is given attention she does not want. At school, nobody gives her the attention she needs to cause drama. What a paradox

Note: Marinette had asked Adrien if he had a crush on her. Adrien lies and says he is just in awe of her designing ability. While Marinette is not happy there are so many akumas, she is thrilled to be able to spend more time with Chat Noir.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #adrienette #lila karma #lila is exposed #lila gets exposed #lila bashing #lila salt #ml salt fic

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siriusmuch · 4 years

Text

Friday I’m In Love | Chapter One

series masterlist here

word count: approx 2,600

warnings: a bit angsty, but to be fair, most of this series will be

taglist: @interestingthingsthings @siriuslysirius1107 message me/send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: i was low key so unmotivated to write, but i started listening to my sirius playlist and was like, “okay, now I HAVE to.” anyway, i hope you like this chapter. thank you for all your support so far, it means so much to me!

“And where do you think you’re going?” Steely eyes locked with yours. You could feel your heart start pounding faster and faster, the blood rushing as you fumbled over your words.

“Um, oh, I,” You tried, but the figure scoffed.

“Save it. I knew you were too weak for this,” The taller figure walked past you, and as they did so, they slammed their shoulder into you. “Come back when you’re not going to be a disappointment.”

In the far distance, you could hear the quiet screams. Spells were being cast, and green light filled your vision from every direction. But you couldn’t focus on that, all you could focus on were the harsh words that were thrown at you and how cold it was. Further away, you could hear your name being shouted, and just as you were about to compose yourself and reply, you watched everything drop.

“MERLIN’S BALLS!” You gasped, finding yourself in a tangle of blankets on the cold ground of your dormitory. Blinking to readjust yourself, you scrambled up as you shoved your blankets back onto your bed. You could still feel your heart racing, and you were relieved that the only noises that you heard were the rush of the lake and your dormmates’ snores. There weren’t strange figures outside your windows, only the occasional fish swimming by.

Taking a moment to recollect yourself, you quietly left the common room and instead started to head towards the kitchens. This had started becoming a regular occurrence for you and you were just relieved that no one had caught you yet.

Unfortunately for you, it turns out you spoke (thought?) just a little too soon.

“(Y/L/N)?” A confused voice asked as you whipped around.

“M... Meadowes?” You could feel your eyebrows start to furrow. From behind you, Dorcas Meadowes looked less than amused. You heard tidbits about her, although had never actually spoken to her. She was a Gryffindor in your year, and according to some of the Slytherins who did nothing but gossip, she was also a huge lesbian. You couldn’t confirm nor deny that seeing that you’ve never had concrete evidence, but you also knew that she was incredibly hardcore.

Her big dick energy was something you admired.

“The last person I expected to see was you,” Dorcas confessed, and you bit back a smile, “But what are you doing up so late? I’ve never even heard of you breaking a rule before.”

“To be fair, I don’t usually break rules and no one catches me doing so,” You started towards the kitchens again, although looked back to check if Dorcas was following. A bit to your relief, she was. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and Dorcas didn’t seem like the type to snitch. “I couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

“The Gryffindor girls are having a study session, and I happened to be the unlucky one they sent down to get snacks.” Your gut twisted, and you knew part of you wished that you still had close friendships like that. “You know, you’re one of the quietest Slytherins. I’ve never seen you insult anyone, although sometimes you do hang out with some shady people...”

You tensed up, although you didn’t stop walking. “Most people view everyone from Slytherin as a bit shady though, no?” You sighed, “Besides, just because I don’t get involved in their ways doesn’t mean I’m quiet.”

“You are quiet. The only two people I see you talking to regularly are Black and Snape. And even then, you don’t look like you talk to them that much. Half the time, your nose is in a book. You almost remind me of Remus.”

You didn’t say anything else, not really knowing what else to say. As you walked into the kitchens, the house-elves greeted you happily.

“Miss (Y/L/N)! Are you here for more sleeping tea and cookies?”

“Oh, yes, please. Thank you,” You smiled politely, taking the cup and plate of cookies gratefully. You could feel Dorcas’ stare on the back of your head, but you paid no attention to it. You knew she now knew that you had trouble sleeping, but you doubted that that was important information for her. “Goodnight, Meadowes. I hope your studying goes well. Don’t stay up too late.”

With a tired smile, you walked out of the kitchens and left Dorcas to ponder to herself.

“You look like a raccoon,” Regulus commented as you slid into the seat next to him.

Smirking, you replied, “Well, that’s what happens when you don’t sleep an entire night.” You could feel his concerned gaze on you, but you didn’t bother. Taking out your required materials, you started speaking again, “I’ve been trying sleeping tea for the past few days, but they haven’t helped. I reckon I might have to go to Madame Pomfrey to get something.”

“You... You know you can talk to me, right?” Regulus asked quietly, and if you hadn’t been still, you wouldn’t have heard what he asked. Your gaze softened, but you still didn’t face Regulus.

“I know. I’m just tired,” You sighed, letting your body sag a bit as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I keep on thinking about that.”

As more students started entering the classroom, you knew that your quiet moment was soon to be over. Although you weren’t the best of friends, not like how you and Sirius were, you were thankful for his presence. You couldn’t imagine attending Hogwarts without him by your side.

“I know, I know...” He whispered, rubbing his thumb over the back of your thumb. The two of you didn’t have many intimate moments, but you were struggling. Thoughts of that night constantly plagued your every thought and you were outright tired of being strong. Allowing yourself just a minute more of relaxation, you sat back up and opened your textbook, ignoring the quiet chatter of your classmates and the occasional stares on you.

“Miss (Y/L/N), Mister Lupin. Come here for a moment,” Professor McGonagall called as you were packing up. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you turned to look to Regulus. You nodded at him, silently telling him to go ahead. As you finished packing up your stuff, you walked towards the front of the classroom.

“(Y/L/N), you’ve been missing a lot of assignments. You’ve never done so in any other year, and I’ve been talking to some of your other professors as well. In some cases, you don’t even turn up to class, telling them that you’re sick. Is there something you want to talk about?” Professor McGonagall asked, her voice strict yet somewhat motherly at the same time. You were relieved that she didn’t call upon you in front of the class, but you knew Remus was listening in.

“I...” You hesitated, “I haven’t been sleeping well. I occasionally go to Madame Pomfrey for something to help, but I don’t want to constantly bother her or develop a tolerance to a potion or become too dependent on a potion,” You confessed, telling the bare truth. Your eyes didn’t meet anyone’s, instead, you just stared out the window away from them.

“I see. I’ll talk to Madame Pomfrey about that. But, you understand that that isn’t a reason for you to miss classes. You have your O.W.L.s this year, and the number of missed classes and assignments have racked up to be a concerning amount.”

“Yes, Professor.” You still refused to meet their gazes, although your voice was quiet and meek. Part of you felt embarrassed, especially since you knew Remus was friends with Sirius.

“This is why I wanted to talk to you with Mister Lupin here. He has outstanding grades in almost every class, and from today, he’ll be your tutor. I understand that you might want someone else to help, although I’ve been told that he’s one of the best tutors here. Since you guys have the same standard curriculum, he’ll be able to assist you in all the classes you need help with. Do either of you have any questions?”

You and Remus shook your heads no and Professor McGonagall dismissed the both of you. Turning to face him, you spoke up first.

“I appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about my troubles,” You started. Before Remus could start talking, you continued to talk, “If this won’t take too much time out of your hand, I’d be happy to receive your help in classwork and homework. We can meet every day in the Study Area. Do you know where that is?”

“The one on the fourth floor, right? Near Classroom 4F?”

“Yes. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah,” Remus politely smiled at you. You could tell he wanted to ask about it, although he didn’t want to be intrusive. It was a good thing that you were paired with one of the more tolerable Marauders, despite Remus’ rabid rabbit problem and his quiet yet mischievous involvement in pranks.

“Alright. I’ll see you there today.” With a nod, the two of you left the Transfiguration classroom and went your way.

By the time classes ended and you arrived in the Study Area, you were absolutely drained. All you wanted to do was take a nap, preferably if it was dreamless, or just avoid all your problems and sulk by reading a good book. Unfortunately for you, you also didn’t want to get in trouble and have your parents receive a letter about your missed classes or assignments.

Unsurprisingly, Remus was already there, and he was already working on what you presumed was his own homework.

Quietly, you slid into the seat across from his, placing your things down and started getting set up. “Hey,” You greeted, watching him look up at you, “I’m... sorry about all this. That you have to give up your own time to help me. I’m sure you’d rather be with the Marauders right now.”

“It’s no bother. Plus, it helps me revise my work too,” Remus smiled at you, “Do you want to start with Transfiguration? We have homework today for that, and it might be easier to get that out of the way.”

With a nod, the two of you started talking about Transfiguration. Every few minutes, he’d explain a concept that you were stuck on without you even asking for help. You appreciated his attentiveness and by the time two hours had passed, the two of you had eased up and started cracking jokes.

“You know, what kind of wizard or witch just decides to create a charm that transforms a dinner plate to a large mushroom? Like, they must’ve been starving to the point where they wanted to eat a plate really badly,” You commented, watching Remus’ grin grow wider. Pride swelled up in your chest, knowing that you were able to make him laugh.

“What if they actually tried eating the plate?” Remus asked, making you snort. The other students in the area kept on giving you dirty looks for interrupting their studying, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“You know, you’re not so bad, Lupin,” You smiled. It was small and genuine, but nonetheless, it was something you really meant. “I know Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t usually become friends, but honestly, I wish I were friends with you. You’re really funny, and the pranks that you help come up with are creative. The Slytherins have to give you credit for that.” Your voice was quiet, but you didn’t look away from him.

Watching as a soft flush started staining his cheeks, you quickly looked back down to your parchment.

“I could say the same about you. You know, Sirius, he says a lot about you. But you’ve defied anything he’s been saying.” Your head shot up when he mentioned Sirius, even as your heart cracked with the information that Sirius really did talk bad about you to his friends. Part of you hoped it was just a front that he kept up, but this just confirmed your fears.

“What does he say?” You asked. Remus looked uncomfortable, and part of you felt bad for him, but you really wanted to know.

“Well... He says a lot about how you’re just like his family. You don’t like associating with muggles or muggleborns, and you bully some of the muggleborns. Just stereotypical things.” A frown settled onto your face and Remus looked guilty.

It felt like someone had stabbed you a few times and decided to leave the wound open. It was terrible when Sirius started ignoring you, but finding out that he compared you to the scum of the earth hurt even more. You willed your eyes not to water, but they started to do so anyway. You didn’t wipe at your eyes nor make eye contact to make it less obvious, but you could tell that Remus knew. He scooted his chair over, sitting closer to you.

“I don’t know what happened between you two, and I’m not going to prod at the issue either. But part of him cares for you, you know? Even if he doesn’t tell you. Even if you haven’t talked in four years.”

You weren’t sure why you’ve become so vulnerable all of a sudden. You were never vulnerable with anyone, much less trusting of anyone this quickly, but years of almost constant isolation has had its toll on you. The loss of sleep that he knew about lowered your walls just a little. Maybe he didn’t know you too well, but you could tell that he knew that you were drowning.

“I don’t know what happened between us either,” You said miserably. You leaned your head onto Remus’ shoulder, much like what you were doing to Regulus earlier. “It’s like, one day we were the best of friends, and then just decided to cut me off. Which, is... okay, I guess, but I wish I had an explanation.”

Remus wrapped his arm around you, rubbing at your back. You didn’t want anyone else to see you crying, so you hid your face in his robes. It was obvious that he didn’t really know what to say, but something about him made you feel a bit better. Maybe it was because he was close to Sirius in general, or maybe it was because he’s there, or maybe it was just simply because everything about him radiated kindness.

“Hey, Remus... I can call you Remus, right? I think we’re past the stage of last names now, but,” You sniffled a little, “Thanks. I know you weren’t looking for all this emotional baggage. All you were doing was following orders from McGonagall, but you’re incredible.”

“You can call me Remus as long as I can call you (Y/N),” You let out a wet laugh, “Earlier you were talking about how you wished we were friends. You’re a dumbass, we’re already friends.”

Warmth flooded your chest, and you looked up to him. Even with tear-stained eyes, you couldn’t help but give him one of the biggest smiles you’ve given in years. Wiping your tears away, you took a deep breath before looking back down at your homework.

“C’mon, Remus, let’s continue writing this essay about a plate transforming into a mushroom. I better get an O for this.”

Maybe you still couldn’t figure out why Remus made you feel as safe as you did, or why you knew that he was going to jump into the water and save you from drowning in your own thoughts, but you trusted him. And as the clock ticked by and jokes continued to be exchanged, your friendship rapidly grew.

And maybe you didn’t know it yet, but you’ll soon come to find out that there was almost nothing you wouldn’t do for Remus Lupin.

#friday im in love #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #regulus black #regulus black x reader #professor mcgonagall #minerva mcgonagall #sirius black #sirius black x reader #journal of joyivos

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smolgloves · 4 years

Text

A Bad First Meeting

Night had fallen, finally the wretched giants were asleep. Aaron and his wife Elizabeth scurried through the passageways of the walls like they were rats. A cold draft brushed past them, forcing them to shiver. This was no place for a human to be, but giants in the states saw them nothing more than pets. Aaron and Elizabeth were lucky to have escaped before their daughter was born, but the streets were cruel and plagued with disease. Now it was a battle of life and death! If they didn't get the advil soon, Aaron feared he and Elizabeth would lose this battle.

Elizabeth peaked her head out of the entrance to make sure the coast was clear. She looked back at Aaron and gave a soft smile. "Let's go."

They ventured onto the bathroom sink, being very quiet with each step they took, despite it being dark, Aaron hated being out in the open like this. Every time the house creaked he couldn't help but jump. They just needed to get the advil and get the hell out of here!

The couple made it to the medicine bottle, thick plastic sealed their cure away from them, but Aaron pulled a rusty nail from his backpack. He dug in further and clasped onto the familiar steel rectangle.

It was a lighter he had gotten for his eighteenth birthday. He was so lucky he was able to hide the trinket from the giants who captured him and his wife, it was the only thing he had left of his former life. And it had been a lifesaver during these cold months of winter, but lighter fluid was hard to come by as a human. There was probably only enough for this mission. Aaron handed his lighter to his wife and used all of his strength to lift the nail up. Elizabeth flicked the lighter a few times before a little orange flame appeared. She ran it under the point of the nail until it was red hot. Aaron drove the nail into the side of the pill bottle, the smell of burning plastic quickly started to fill the room. Once he was able to cut a small hole, he quickly pulled the nail away and let his wife crawl in.

Elizabeth pulled out a circular orange tablet and quickly shoved it in her bag. "Let's go!"

But before they could run, the lights flickered on. Aaron's green eyes locked onto the door and to his horror he saw the giant that occupied the home. He was a terrifying giant with black hair and piercing blue eyes. Tattoos covered various parts of his body, the most notable was the word forever on his neck. But the most chilling thing about him was that he was staring right at Aaron and Elizabeth.

~~~~

The night had only made Zack's headache worse, he couldn't get any sleep. He thought he could just take some more advil and finally go back to sleep, the last thing Zack expected to see were two humans on his sink. He quickly noticed the hole in the pill bottle and the rusted nail beside it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Zack shouted. The couple started running but he plucked one in the air. It was the woman! She was pale and had black hair tied in a bun, with wide blue eyes looking up at him in terror.

"LET HER GO NOW!" The man shouted as he pointed the rusty nail up at him.

Zack had to stifle a laugh. This tiny man looked so weak and sickly, this guy couldn't even grow a full beard yet he was gonna threaten him? "I don't think you're in a position to be making demands."

"Then get your hands off my wife!"

"Not until you tell me why you're here!"

"P… please, we needed the medicine!" The woman cried out.

Zack practically ripped the backpack off of the tiny woman and dug into it to find a pill that was taken. They went through all this trouble for some cold medicine, how desperate were these humans? He took a closer look at the woman and he could see her eyes were sunken in and bloodshot. The husband didn't look much different, his brown hair was slick with sweat and his arms shook more with each passing minute he had to keep that nail pointed up, whatever illness they had was slowly eating them away. The Advil probably wouldn't even do much except prolonged the inevitable.

"You got what you wanted, boy!" The man growled. "Now let her go!"

Something about that didn't sit quite right with Zack, to let them go would mean to send them on a death march. These humans were scared but helpless to the environment out there. Zack knew what he had to do. "I can't let you two go. You need a vet"

The woman gasped and thrashed in his hand. "Please, you won't ever see us again!"

"I believe you." Zack replied grimly. "But you two need help!"

"The hell we do!" The man growled. "The day I trust a giant is going to be the day I fucking die!"

"I'm doing you a favor! So I don't understand why you're trying to be difficult when there's nothing for you guys out there!"

"M-mom?!"

Zack broke his gaze from the two humans and locked onto the new voice. His eyes widened when he saw a teen girl peeking out through that hole at the end of the sink. Her long greasy black hair draped over her face, nearly hiding her green eyes. Her skin was pale and she looked underweight but other than that, she seemed healthier than her parents. Shit, no wonder why they went through all this trouble for an Advil! If there was any more reason to help them, this was it. But the girl looked up at him with fear, Zack couldn't imagine how this looked from her view.

"Hey, it's okay." Zack said softly. "I'm just trying to help your parents."

"Then why did you grab my mom?"

"Well, I need to take your mom somewhere to get better, your dad too. But I promise I'll bring them back to you, unless…" Zack inched his hand closer to the girl. "You would prefer to come along so you could be with them?"

~~~~~~

Aaron's stomach dropped when he heard his daughter's voice. He specifically told Stella not to come along on this mission, now here she was talking to this giant! Rage began filling up when he saw the giant trying to manipulate his daughter into letting him do whatever he wanted with them, the worst part was that it was working. Although her face was twisted with uncertainty, she didn't even flinch when the man got closer to her.

Aaron was ready to charge towards the man and impale his hand with the nail but something shined in his eyes. He looked up to see Elizabeth desperately trying to get it to work one last time, after the tenth try a small flame lit up! Elizabeth quickly ran it under the giant's thumb, it took him a few seconds but when he finally felt the flame he let out a scream and instinctively let go of Elizabeth.

Aaron ran as fast as he could and dove for his falling wife. Thankfully, he caught her before she could fall off the sink, but his lighter continued to fall down to the ground. He turned towards his daughter who stood there frozen. "STELLA RUN!"

Fortunately, Stella snapped out of it and ducked back into the hole. Aaron and Elizabeth used this opportunity to sprint into the hole before the giant could grab them. They emerged into the darkness but didn't stop running, the last thing they could hear was the giant cursing out as he had failed to catch them.

Once they were deep enough in the walls, they stopped. Aaron panted heavily, he felt like he was going to throw up.

"Mom?! Dad?!" Stella began running towards them.

"Stella, stay back!" Elizabeth ordered. "You can't get sick!"

"Are you okay? I was wondering what was taking so long, so I went looking and saw you…." Her voice cracked.

"I'm okay, honey. Just a bit bruised."

Stella sighed in relief. "So did you get the medicine?"

The grim reality sunk in, the giant had taken the medicine and half of their supplies laid scattered on that sink. There was no way they could go back and try to retrieve anything.

Aaron looked his daughter in the eyes. "I'm sorry dear, we couldn't get it."

"But you need it to get better!"

"We know, but we can't stay here."

"You guys aren't in any condition to travel!" Stella racked her brain for a solution. "Maybe that giant was really going to help you!"

"Absolutely not!" Aaron snapped. "That boy looked like trouble."

"But are you sure?" Stella pleaded.

"You know the rules, never trust a giant."

"I know but…" Her voice grew quiet. "I don't want you guys to die."

Elizabeth gave her daughter a soft smile. "Oh Stella, we'll be fine."

"Really?"

"We'll be fine." Aaron reassured. "We've been through tougher situations."

"Now go pack up your things, honey. We need to be out of this place soon."

Stella nodded and ran off, once her footsteps faded away, Aaron and Elizabeth looked at each other. Their smiles were gone.

"What are we going to do now?" Elizabeth cried out.

"We're going to figure it out."

"We won't be able to do this again."

"Maybe we can bear the virus without medicine?"

"Please don't avoid this." Elizabeth's face darkened. "We're going to die."

"No, I'm not giving up… Stella needs us!"

"I know she does, she's so naive." Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "How is she going to survive without us?"

Aaron looked at his beautiful wife, this sickness was slowly killing them. He pulled Elizabeth in for a hug, unsure what words he could say to comfort her.

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of-muppets-and-men · 4 years

Text

Penumbra

Just an Ichiruki canon divergent type story I’m taking a crack at.

This takes place a few years after the Quincy war.

Chapter One: Waning

Winter in the Seireitei was arguably even more frigid than it was in the real world. The chilling air seeping into every crack and crevice, freezing the citizens to the bone. Lower districts suffered the most, its poor residents struggling to keep warm. Huddling together like penguins to stave off frostbite and lost toes. And years of enduring it as a boy left a bad taste in one Renji Abarai’s mouth.

The restless lieutenant walked silently through the upper echelons of the Seireitei, Zabimaru tout by his side. His stride long and somber as he moved through the fortunate streets. The posh smiles of other souls sickening him to some degree. Their whisperings and hushed voices undoubtedly about him. The lieutenant adjusted his heavy cloak so he could avoid meeting their gaze. Renji had been to and seen hell, while these people hid and scattered like roaches. But he would ultimately pay their judgement no mind. After all, he had a more pressing concern; like finding his fiancee.

At long last, the shinigami reached his destination: The Shihouin estate.

Its gates opened before him, grandiose as always. A slew of servants filed out, forming symmetrically at the edge of the path. The respectfully bowed toward him, a Noble formality he'd come to hate. The head servant, a woman who’s name he hadn’t bothered to remember, guided him inside to meet her mistress. Renji followed the diminutive woman inside to a decadent living room where an old friend sat lazily.

“Mistress, you have a guest.” the servant spoke.

Yoruichi looked up to see who had interrupted her midday snacking, only to see Renji give off his familiar scowl. The reinstated head of the Shihouin clan fired back with a coy smile, then continued to nibble on a pocky stick.

With a wave of her hand, the attendant left the room, leaving Renji and her alone.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Sit.” Yoruichi coaxed “You are my guest, no?”

With a heavy sigh, Renji waltzed over, propping his zanpakuto against an adjacent pillar. He removed his thick cloak, laying it beside him as he made himself comfortable. Yoruichi’s sofa was soft, almost too soft as he felt his body sink into the cushions. In an attempt to start the conversation, Yoruichi pointed the open pocky box in Renji’s direction.

“Want one?” She asked with a purr.

“Where is Rukia?” Renji barked.

“Wow, straight to the point. Oh well, more for me.”

“Yoruichi…”

The Lieutenant eyes spoke volumes. He clearly wasn't in the mood for games. The Shihouin head rolled her eyes at his seriousness, laying her beloved snack on a nearby table. She refined her posture, crossed one leg over the other as she often did and spoke truthfully.

“I haven’t seen her in weeks, Renji. No one has.” Yoruichi answered his looming question.

Renji then slouched down, angrily muttering profanities to himself. Anyone could see he was distraught; he’d proposed to Rukia a mere 3 months ago. Now she just drops off the face of the Soul Society without telling anyone. Not Byakuya or any of the other captains, Not Kisuke or Yoruichi, and certainly not him. His only clue was a note reading 'don't look for me'. It was mind-numbingly frustrating to say the least.

Renji was so deep in thought, he hadn’t noticed Yoruichi scoot beside him. The forlorn Shinigami only broke his trance when she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Renji, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But what if she’s been kidnapped?! What if she needs my help and I’m just sitting on my ass doing nothing?!”

“Renji… You, Rukia and Ichigo have faced down every person that has threatened the Soul Society. There’s no one left strong enough to even pose a challenge. Yhwach is gone. The Wandenreich are gone. So stop fussing over her safety. Rukia probably just needs some time for herself. And.. if that’s the case, she‘ll come back.”

The Shihouin Head’s words just barely set him at ease. With a quick jolt, he rose from his seat, fists clenched tight. The worry on his face or his heart hadn’t diminished as much as she had wanted. Slightly defeated, he made his way for the gate.

“Sorry but I can’t stay. It was good to see you, Lady Shihouin.”

An obvious and poor attempt to jab at her. At least he was trying.

“Have you talked to Ichigo yet?” Yoruichi asked curiously.

“No, but I’m headed to Karakura next.”

“Okay… stay safe.”

A nod was all she got in response. She walked him out; all the while surrounded by her entourage of servants and attendants. The lot of them bowed diligently as the lieutenant wearily made his way off the estate. As the old friends waved each other off, the gates cut off their view of one another.

Her many servants dispersed, leaving her to saunter back to enjoy the rest of her snacks. Before she could even take off her sandals however, a voice came from beyond the foyer.

“Is he gone?” the diminutive voice asked.

“Yes. He is.” Yoruichi responded.

“Good.”

The owner of the little voice traipsed out of the darkness. Illuminated by the light of the afternoon, a very nervous and also very pregnant Rukia met eyes with her confidant. A disappointed Yoruichi crossed her arms at the expecting mother. Rukia smiled timidly only to wince in pain, grabbing hold of her ever-growing baby bump. The Flash goddess was by her friend’s side in the blink of an eye, fearing the worst.

"Are you okay?" Yoruichi frantically asked, helping Rukia maintain her balance.

“Yoruichi, stop. I’m fine… really. She just kicked.” Rukia explained, trying to calm her old friend.

“Wait. She?” She exclaimed in bewilderment.

“Mhmmm. Isane said it was a girl. Here, Wanna feel?”

Rukia calmly guided her friend’s hand to the spot her little one had made herself known. Yoruichi pressed her palm gently over Rukia’s stomach; to feel a tiny foot press back. The moment was precious, the both of them nearly began to cry. Using what strength they had, they forced it into a teary eyed chuckle instead.

“Alright, no more fooling around. You should be resting Okaa-chan.” Yoruichi chided.

Rukia chucked, rolling her eyes as they walked back to the guest room she’d been secretly staying in. But the manner of Renji’s visit had both of them troubled. Renji did love her enough to go looking for her, but how long until Ichigo came looking as well? He was Ichigo after all. Nothing on heaven and earth could stop him once he was invested in something. As Rukia pondered, Yoruichi had some questions of her own.

“Do you plan on telling Ichigo about his child?” She asked, her voice solemn and rigid.

Rukia looked up into her friend’s golden eyes “I don’t know if I can…”

“Well, one of these days, you’re not gonna have a choice.” Yoruichi once again lectured.

“I kno-”

“Do you? Rukia, I’ve lied to everyone I could for you. Hidden you away from your family, friends and your fiance. All so you could keep Ichigo’s child. Do you really understand the ramifications of what you’re doing.”

Caught in her frustration, Yoruichi hadn’t realized Rukia had become to cry. Tears streamed from the expectant mother’s eyes as she slumped to her knees. She buried her swelling eyes into her palms. The petite woman continually wiped at her cheeks, only for more tears to take their place. Knowing she’d said too much too soon, Yoruichi comforted her as best she could.

“Rukia, I’m sorry. That was exce-”

“No… you’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ve asked so much of you. All for the sake of my child that I'm not even sure I'll get to see grow up. Yet I can't bring myself to get rid of it because it’s the only proof I have that he loved me.”

The small woman continued to bawl in the middle of the hallway, the noise of her sobs echoing off the walls. The deafening silence of the manor made Rukia’s sobs even more poignant. Yoruichi had fully embraced her by this point, stroking her hair to help calm her. Rukia’s relationship with Kurosaki had always raised Yoruichi’s attention, but she never would’ve guessed how far they went. That this whole fiasco was a sign; a sign Rukia was still hopelessly in love with Ichigo. Even though her child would likely never know her parents, Rukia had every intention of bringing her to term. A resolve Yoruichi would have to match.

“Okay. As your friend, I will help you through this. No matter what. But I do have one last question. Why haven’t called off your engagement? Or talked to Byakuya?”

“Because I’d be disowned. What future would my daughter have then?”

“Ichigo would take you in. I’m sure he would.”

“I’m not so sure. We haven’t spoken since… well, y’know. And if I suddenly went back with our child my arms. There’s no telling how he would react. Not to mention his engagement...”

Rukia had been plagued by uncertainty ever since Isane did her ultrasound. Every question her mind created led to more stress. Stress that threatened both her daughter and her. So Rukia had stopped thinking about it altogether. And it showed.

The elder shinigami doled out a heavy sigh, unsure of what to be more baffled by; that fact she willingly let herself get caught in this debacle or Rukia’s surprising lack of a plan. Well she’d already come this far with Rukia, she would have to see it through to the end.

“Oh dear, what did I do to deserve this.”

(Repost cuz Tumblr is wack)

#bleach #ichiruki #rukia x ichigo #ichigo x rukia #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #yoruichi shihouin #renji abarai #Penumbra #pro ichiruki

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butterfly-winx · 4 years

Note

its probably the helia stan in me but id love to read an origin story! idk if youre planning one for all of them but i really like your worldbuilding so id read them! and i know others would too! 💞 (also that fairy sketch was beautiful and if youre planning on it id love to hear more about him 👀)

Aahh ugh, I don’t actually have a lot fleshed out for Cyanox, except that he is the Guardian of Prometia and neutral to a fault. And also unintentionally the reason for why/how Layla gained the ability to modify Sirenix into Crystal Sirenix to adapt to cold and high pressure environments.

I am far too disorganised to make one collection post for the backgrounds of all characters I messed with, so I guess, here goes nothing. *cracks knuckles* Buckle in for the ride! (content warning for death and lethal illnesses)

Helia was born on Lynphea in a middle sized settlement in the moderate-warm Eastern Forests of Lynphea. I talk about the zones, culture and dangers of Lynphea here, so I don’t want to repeat myself too much, but Helia’s village was much closer to the borders of the Death Zone the virus has claimed for itself than what would have been advisable. Back then, they thought Viaj would exhaust the surrounding natural resources and its people would move on long before the spread of the virus would become a danger to them. Oh how wrong they were. All it took was the change of the wind one summer.

Helia had been only five and then some and the world was still too vivid in his eyes, lights filtering through leaves a spectacle every day he accompanied one of his caretakers on a simple errand. He was the one who found the earliest warning sign, a fungal growth on a long leaf of gras that was the manifestation of the plague befalling its plant hosts. Not quite comprehending what that meant in his young age, Helia struggled for a long time with guilt about the terror his discovery brought, wishing he would have never played in the prairie. Like that would have avoided anything.

The inhabitants of Viaj actually gained a head start through his discovery though that potentially spared other communities, however it couldn’t help theirs. They quarantined immediately, drew up a magic barrier to protect everyone from the airborne spores that carry the virus from plants to humans. But doing so they gave up hunting and gathering and were entirely reliant on the rations the other communities would send with the quarantine workers. Though even those trickled to a stop when the first person fell sick with the cough and the tell-tale black spots formed on their mucous membrane. People saw no use in wasting resources on people who were damned to die. The best they could do now was limit travel to the edge of the Eastern Forest and set more scientists on recalculating the projected spread of the virus.

Lynpheans practice a philosophy of “live and let die” not hanging onto things beyond their lifespan, so this was seen as neither cruel or unusual, but show me one person who is truly prepared to die such a horrific, slow death in order to upkeep the natural order. The people of Viaj didn’t want to die, and they certainly didn’t deserve to die. But people fell like flies, until about three months later only Helia, Naoqi, the last adult, and Tsilla, the very last baby born in midst of all that, were alive. Naoqi cared for Helia and the baby as best as he could and in doing so became a replacement parental figure in Helia’s eyes. He did everything he could to make the horrible experience slightly lighter to bear for the children, but when the magic barrier keeping the wind away fell, there was little he could have done to stave off the inevitable.

Helia was left alone, with a not even five moth old baby and no way of feeding himself or the baby. With nothing else left, he braved the forest and looked for the quarantine workers who were no doubt overseeing the area, which marked the last time Helia ever walked in the forests of his home. The quarantine workers were more than surprised by the tenacious boy with a baby in his arms and finding out he was still alive after what they thought was final exhaustion has set in.

The next thing after that that Helia actually remembers is waking up on Magics with Saladin greeting him, introducing himself as a distant relative. The truth was a lot more complicated than that. The quarantine workers have taken Helia to the nearest hospital to treat him for the effects of starvation, because miraculously, the disease had still not taken hold of him after five months of exposure. Hermetically locked in a wing of the hospital, he was the most prised and most dangerous person and study artefact on the whole planet. His comatose slumber was watched from behind plexi glas and every then available humoral test was run on him to find out why he of all people had proved to be immune. If he was immune at all.

Meanwhile Saladin arrived on planet as he heard the news of the demise of his hometown, of his family. Even back then he had not been the pride of the planet and his relationship with his family had been strained because of the wars he had chosen to be involved in. All of that didn’t matter the instant lives were on the line and Saladin wanted nothing more than one last exchange of letters he would never get to make everything alright again. No power in the world would ever grant him that, but having powerful friends in the right circles granted him something else. Information, that a young Viaj boy was still alive in the Epidemiology Research Centre. He may be the future, the solution to all of their problems with a DNA hiding the secrets to immunity. Saladin immediately inquired, dug deeper demanding to see the boy, but the Council denied him visitation rights. He had to strike an underhanded deal with the co-leader of the research project under a false name to find out Helia wasn’t even awake, but held in a magically induced coma for observational purposes. The scientist talked on and on about the possibilities and what they would do after they go the genes needed but Saladin blew up at that point. How dare they treat this boy like an object, like his loss wouldn’t be felt by anyone, should one of the procedures go wrong. Like all his life could hold from now on was an ultimate sacrifice for the benefit of the many. He wouldn’t even be able to comprehend that if told. With Saladin blowing a fuse, the research centre blew up too and he fled the planet that night with an unconscious Helia in his arms.

So what felt like a night of knocked-in-the-head-by-a-horse sleep to Helia was actually close to four weeks in real world time. He has no concrete memory of what Saladin saved him from, but enough peripheral perception of what transpired planetside to make sense of the ramifications. Technically, Helia’s DNA is public property of the Lynphea Council, and technically both him and Saladin have an arrest warrant hanging over their head for the destruction and property damage caused. If Helia were to ever set foot on Lynphea again (or even go to a country that has an extradition treaty with them) he would be taken back to the Research Centre to be dissected to the smallest molecules until he yielded answers.

While Helia was able to grow up in Magics in relative safety, the virus was still wreaking damage on Lynphea. Saladin (and to a lesser extent Helia) made the incredibly difficult decision to reject the experimentation on Helia and thus deny the population of their home a potential treatment to an otherwise lethal infection. It is an incredibly heavy burden and no day passes that they don’t question the rightness of their choice.

Helia can certainly appreciate the moral conflict now, but as a child he was much more difficult to manage. The switch from a huge nurturing family to one primary carer to rely on was harsh on Helia, who was already traumatised and needing love and affection. Saladin did the best he could, but running a school and otherwise being a Universe-wide known hero didn’t help. After they grew close on the tail end of Helia’s childhood, they explosively drew apart during his tweens, Helia not able or reluctant to understand the restrictions Saladin placed on his life.

First, he was unwilling to share as much about Lynphean culture and way of life as Helia wished to know, saying that he wouldn’t be able to apply it there on Magics anyway. The deeper reason for that is more likely buried in his resentment for Lynphea rejecting him as harshly as they did after he helped save the Universe from the Ancestresses, but Helia of course knew nothing of that. Then when he moved over to adapting to life on Magics “in the Magics” way, he begged to be taught magic for which he had developed a budding talent. Saladin refused again for related trauma reasons. He didn’t want Helia to wield a power that could potentially make him a weapon in someone else’s crusade. Being his only personal student would only paint a target on Helia’s back.

Helia was having none of that, fiercely objecting to the treatment. He had his own trauma to deal with. Like death by illness. (People falling ill was a lasting trigger he has been continuously working to overcome, but the first time Saladin came home with a cough Helia immediately worked himself into a panic attack so severe he couldn’t stop vomiting and had to be taken into a hospital himself. ) He shouldn’t have to shoulder the repercussions of Saladin’s problems too!

People who say old teens and their wilfulness are hard to deal with, haven’t met twelve year old Helia yet. To think he actually mellowed out by the time he hit Red Fountain. In any case, Helia and Saladin weren’t really speaking civilly with each other anymore by the time Helia met Krystal. (More on her side of things here) Krystal, ten and absolutely blind to seeing obstacles, offered Helia her books on basic witchcraft and with that the opportunity to take his magic learning into his own hands. After all, sorcery required a lot of detailed instruction, but witchcraft was available to any odd fool who could set up a passable reaction equation. It took half a year of trials and encouragement for his efforts to yield a result and for Krystal and Helia’s friendship to bloom. It took Saladin much longer than that to catch on to Helia’s secret tinkering. The old man should have suspected something to be up after their disagreements magically disappeared after Helia and Krystal met twice. The aftermath was ugly and lead to Helia and Krystal reluctantly parting ways.

Helia was inconsolable an dedicated a large part of his life to making it as difficult for Saladin as possible. His grades dropped, his art got angry and choppy and he had to be escorted home by peace keepers for having snuck into places he shouldn’t have been in. Year fourteen and fifteen of Helia’s life have been by far the most difficult to deal with with no improvement in sight. Under pressure from his school and Saladin to choose a path for higher education after his year nine exams, Helia thought it would be most spiteful to chose...nothing. He would simply stop going to school at 15 years of age and just become whatever. Maybe a full-time artist or a busker. “Hah, that’ll show Saladin!”- he thought, but he severely miscalculated.

Saladin had often threatened with making Helia enrol in his school if he didn’t behave and Helia never though he would make good on his words until he was dropped off at the main entrance with all his bags like the other freshmen filtering in through the gates. Being the headmaster, Saladin allowed Helia some liberties, trying to demonstrate to him that he shouldn’t see this as a punishment, but as an opportunity to further his life. Cue Helia’s biggest pièce de resistance, showing just how much he didn’t think so. As mentioned a few asks ago, he was given the liberty to chose where he lived and which team he chose, but not like that goddamit! He took shameless advantage of the loose wording Saladin used and hopped between rooms and teams completely ignoring conventions. He was the bane of the school, found on the roof, in supply closets and in the middle of hallways. Teams feared him, because they knew if Helia was assigned to them they might as well have been one person short, his flaky nature making it hard for them to work with him. Codatorta wrote as many warnings for Helia in that one year as he did in his whole career before that. Students at Red Fountain tended to be disciplined and dedicated to becoming Specialists, but Helia was the absolute antithesis to them. At the end of the year no amount of Saladin’s half-hearted excuses could save Helia from the overwhelming force of the teaching staff getting him sacked. Not that Helia minded, though. It was exactly what he wanted.

Saladin more or less gave up on him then. If he wanted to be on his own then fine. Saladin would help him with finding an own apartment and give him his first moth of rent, but after that Helia could go and find himself a purpose in the world alone. Fine. Fine. Alright!

It was not alright at all, but it was buried under a very thick layer of “I’ll show ya” which made Helia want to live his best liberal artist life. He enjoyed creating as much art as he wanted, but he craved social contact and being engaged in something with a common goal, so he started getting involved with local pacifist groups. He had always preached a path of non-violence, which was about the only thing that had been ingrained in him from his Lynphean upbringing. There he started to expand his horizon beyond what his gut feeling taught him about pacifism and got into reading theory seriously. He was surprised how many of those books shared around had originally belonged to the Red Fountain library and even more so that they have ben written by the founders of the Red Fountain Cavalry. And that was when Helia bust down Saladin’s office door.

“All of this theory was in the school’s library the whole time!!?? And all everyone was ever talking about was warfare!! Why was I never told the best pacifist philosophers of the century were all Red Fountain members???” “You never showed up to any of the philosophy lectures! How am I to blame?” A deep breath from Helia, re-evaluating all of his 17 years of life choices. “Dada Saladin, you have to let me back into your school please.”

And Saladin refused. To let him back without repercussions that is. Helia had to prove that he took his education seriously and was ready to commit by taking the entrance exam like everybody else to earn his place at the institute. He scraped the bottom of the scoreboard with his first results, but took the first year foundation course with a mile long stride. He was allowed to skip quite a few modules and ended up in the same year as the protag specialist boys with quite a reputation to his name. In the process of reacquainting himself with the school and its philosophy, he learned humility, respect, and when to keep his head down and mouth shut. The upperclassmen from his original year group barely believed he was supposedly the same person they got to know as an absolute menace . There are many rumours about twin brothers, brainwashing and Saladin’s terrifying magic might turning him into this new person.

Helia has come an extremely long way becoming the well-tempered and balanced person known from the show’s timeline. It is almost as if he compressed a lifetime of angst into three years, thus min-maxing his character development coming out more adult in the end at 18 years old than many people at 30. He lived through a lot of things and it shows in how he behaves and what he cares about. He is a passable fighter, but his main aim is always to protect and to avoid conflict if possible. He is a trained negotiator for that purpose and prefers to act as tactical support for his team. It all changes however once Riven and Sky both decide to quit the team leaving Helia, Brandon and Timmy with a very difficult decision on how to go on after that.

(Aand we have arrived at present day for my AU timeline with this. I hope you made it this far, I‘ve never written this much for a tumblr post before)

#winx club #winx helia #asks #see this is why I can't make a nice neat summary post about my headcanons because as soon as I start talking it becomes a word vomit #helia #butterfly fic #Anonymous

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loveissupernatural · 4 years

Photo

“The Man Behind the Mask”

Pt 8

Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: Slight sexual-ness

Summary: You’ve recently moved to Queens, New York after your father finds a new job with the U.S. government handling alien affairs in the city. You’ve grown up in a small town, and it’s your junior year of high school; culture shock takes a whole new meaning when you’re saved by the famed new web-slinging Avenger - and when you meet a new group of friends at Midtown High that seem to always be hiding something. But things quickly get personal.

Masterlist / Pt 1 – Pt 2 – Pt 3 – Pt 4 – Pt 5 – Pt 6 – Pt 7

You sat in the small waiting room outside of the principal’s office, picking absentmindedly at the ugly green material covering the arm rest of your chair. Ned and Peter sat in identical chairs beside you. They looked mildly terrified. You sighed, wondering what your mother would say if she knew that you were here. Guilt crashed over you like a tidal wave, knowing that the last thing she needed was more stress at a time like this.

You snuck a glance at Peter, an apology burning in your throat. If he hadn’t felt the need to defend you, he wouldn’t be here. If you’d tried to shake off Flash for a moment, just long enough to grab Peter’s elbow and drag him down the hall, none of this would have happened. Why didn’t you do something? Why did you just stand there?

“Peter…” you began, voice small.

“This isn’t your fault,” he said immediately, cutting you off before you could even begin to apologize. He was nervous, but his words were strong. “I let Flash get to me.”

“You shouldn’t have even had to defend me,” you pressed. “I should’ve walked away from him, I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“It’s Flash’s fault,” Ned piped up from his seat. “If he wasn’t such a dick, then—”

“Mr. Leeds.”

The principal had opened his office door to usher the three of you inside, catching the end of Ned’s sentence. The color drained from Ned’s face as Principal Morita stepped back from his doorframe and motioned for all of you to join him.

“I just said dick in front of the principal,” Ned murmured to Peter in despair.

You all grabbed your backpacks from the floor and trudged inside to sit in equally uncomfortable chairs. As Principal Morita stepped around his desk, you wondered idly if the terribly hard seating was an intimidation tactic for misbehaving students. You exchanged anxious glances with your friends.

“So,” your principal exhaled, taking his sweet time sitting down and getting comfortable, “You three have some explaining to do. Especially you, Mr. Parker.”

You gulped. Guilt blossomed in your stomach like a poisonous flower.

“Mr. Morita, sir, please let me explain what happened,” you begged, beating Peter to the punch. “It wasn’t our fault.”

“Is that so?” he asked dubiously. The man leaned forward, resting his elbows against the surface of his desk. “So, Mr. Parker didn’t punch Flash Thompson in the face?”

Your protests caught in your throat. “Uh, well—”

“That’s what I thought,” he cut you off. Principal Morita began to play with a pen on his desk, clicking the back against the hard surface repeatedly. You cringed at the annoying sound.

“But, Peter had a good reason!” Ned added hopefully.

“A good reason for assaulting another student?”

You all were silent for a moment, the only sound in the room the incessant clicking of the principal’s ballpoint pen.

“Sir, I’m sorry,” Peter said softly. He sat up straighter in his chair, scooting forward to catch Principal Morita’s eyes. His gaze was imploring. “I know that I shouldn’t have done what I did, but—but Flash, he wouldn’t leave Y/N alone.”

Principal Morita’s eyes darted to you and you nodded enthusiastically, backing Peter’s statement.

“In what way?” the man asked, and Peter jumped on the opportunity.

“He was grabbing her arm,” Peter said quickly, as if he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “She—she was uncomfortable.” Peter turned to catch your gaze, and his soft eyes were so concerned for you that it made your heart skip a beat.

“And—and he was calling us names!” Ned chimed in.

Principal Morita rolled his eyes at Ned’s comment. “While I’m sure your intentions were nothing but noble, Mr. Parker, there is no excuse for a physical altercation. I’ll talk to Mr. Thompson about his less than kind way of interacting with others, but he wasn’t the one who threw the first punch… the only punch, from what I understand.”

Peter sighed through his nose, running his hand through his chocolate waves.

“Please, Mr. Morita, he was only defending me,” you pleaded. “Flash wasn’t backing off and—and I’m so glad that Peter was there.” You smiled softly at a defeated Peter, slumping in his seat.

“Know that I’m aware that Mr. Thompson isn’t blameless in this incident,” he said to you, his eyes softening the slightest bit. “But we have an unconscious student with the school nurse and some very upset parents that will be marching into my office any second now. I simply cannot tolerate violence of any kind, it’s school policy.”

Peter’s voice was as vulnerable as a child’s. “Mr. Morita, please don’t call my Aunt May.”

The principal sighed, and he seemed to take pity on him. “Mr. Parker, you’re a good student—one of our best, actually. You spent a little time in detention last year from skipping class, but besides that, we don’t ever have any problems out of you.” He finally stopped playing with his pen and folded his hands across his stomach. “You’re a good kid, I know that. Tony Stark doesn’t give an internship to just anybody.”

Peter sat up slightly, a glimmer of hope dancing in his eyes. Would he be saved by Mr. Stark again, however indirect?

“If it were up to me, I’d let you off with a warning, kid,” he said apologetically.

“But… isn’t it up to you?” Ned asked.

Mr. Morita shook his head. “If the school board realizes that there was a knock out in the hallway and no one was punished for it—and believe me, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson would make sure they knew—that’s a bad look for everybody. You gotta understand that.”

The hope disappeared from Peter’s eyes as quickly as it had come. All you wanted to do was hold his hand and apologize, knowing that he didn’t deserve to be the scapegoat for this.

“Tell you what, Parker,” Mr. Morita said, scratching at his broom-like mustache. You could see the wheels turning in his head. “Since it’s your first offense, and I know that this won’t happen again—” his eyes bored into Peter’s, and Peter nodded frantically, “—then I’ll only give you one week’s detention. Anyone else, and it would’ve been at least two.” He exhaled. “But I’ve gotta call your aunt.”

Peter deflated, but nodded his head, knowing it could have been much worse. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Morita rose from his seat and walked to his office door, signaling to the three of you that this meeting was over. Peter’s head was hung as he walked through the doorway. You and Ned exchanged sad glances. You both thought that this was unfair.

“Oh, and Parker,” your principal said suddenly, causing all three of you to turn. He leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “Nice punch.”

_______________________

As much as Peter having detention sucked, the amount of positive attention he got from the incident almost seemed to make up for it. Random senior guys would walk by you three in the hallway and raise their hands to Peter for a high-five. Gaggles of girls would occasionally laugh, making Peter blush pink (you weren’t a fan of this). The best part, however, was that a swollen-faced Flash avoided all of you like the plague. The moment he would see Peter coming down the hall, he would jump to the other side and practically hide behind taller students.

As soon as you had a moment alone with Peter, you hugged him like your life depended on it. The fact that he’d knocked out an asshole with a single punch, all for you, still made the butterflies in your stomach rebel and heat rush from your cheeks to your toes. Peter had walked you to your History class, and before he could say goodbye, you practically jumped on him.

He seemed taken off guard by your sudden burst of affection, but it was only a second before his strong arms encircled you and returned your enthusiasm. You rested your blushing cheek against his, arms around his neck, breathing in his scent.

“What’s this for?” Peter asked you softly, barely chuckling. You tightened your arms at his sweet voice.

“For everything,” you answered simply, and he knew what you meant.

Knowing that you both had classes to get to, you slowly pulled away, but you couldn’t stop touching him; your hands settled at his arms. You gazed at Peter with adoration, and he returned it with a shy, flustered grin. Peter Parker was a magnet drawing you in, and all you wanted to do in that moment was take his beautiful face in your hands and kiss him until you both ran out of air.

But you wouldn’t. Not when he was such a good friend—the best—and you didn’t want to scare him away.

You took a deep breath for courage and leaned in, gently pressing your lips to Peter’s cheek. You were a little ashamed at how long your lips lingered there, loving the softness of his skin. When you backed away, your heart skipped a beat at the look on Peter’s face and the deep red hue that covered his ears. He lightly touched where your lips had been only moments before, a bashful half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“My hero,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. You shoved his shoulder.

Poor Peter seemed absolutely overwhelmed. “Uh, I… maybe I should punch Flash more often…?”

You giggled and started backing into your classroom. “See you later, yeah?”

Peter broke into a full smile and it was glorious. You were absolutely, irrevocably smitten. “See you at l-lunch, Y/N.”

You didn’t pay any attention in History. You just doodled hearts on the margins of your notebook, replaying the moment before class in your head over and over again. Peter was quite a breath of fresh air in the midst of your chaotic personal life, even though he’d become such an integral part of it in such a short time.

You wondered what would’ve happened if you’d kissed him — not on the cheek, but really kissed him. Your face grew hot at the mere thought. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t been dreaming of kissing Peter since the moment you first saw him in the cafeteria. He was supportive, intelligent, kind, funny, and oh so cute. But he was also one of your best friends. Peter was your link to Spider-Man and to finding out more about what was happening to your father. Complicating your relationship with Peter wouldn’t only make things awkward for your friend group, but could stomp the brakes on your investigation. Not to mention, you were still new to this school, and if Peter and Ned no longer wanted to hang out with you, you’d be completely alone with a bed-ridden father and emotionally-spent mother. You weren’t sure if you could handle that.

There were many potential pros to letting Peter know how you felt, but there were infinitely more cons. If he didn’t feel the same way, Peter might not be in your life anymore, and that simply wasn’t an option for you.

That reality didn’t stop you from daydreaming, though, or scribbling Peter’s name inside a few of the hearts you’d drawn. Had Peter had his first kiss already? Girls weren’t exactly lining up at his door, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had a girlfriend before. He had a reputation for being a bit of a nerd, and so did Ned, so you’re sure that their experience in the dating department was limited. However, anyone with eyes could see that Peter was attractive, and you absentmindedly worried that if you didn’t eventually make your move, another girl would.

You licked your lips, drawing an extra thick outline on one of your doodled hearts. What would kissing Peter be like? Would his lips be gentle and loving, like his personality? Or passionate and rough, like the way you wanted to kiss him when he’d punched Flash that morning? You’d never seen Peter angry before — frankly, you didn’t know he was capable of it. When you’d gotten over your surprise, you realized that it excited you. The clenching of his sharp jaw, the vein popping in his neck, the flash in his normally-gentle eyes…

You crossed your legs.

You cleared your throat awkwardly at the direction your thoughts had taken. You’d see Peter and Ned at lunch in an hour, and you did not need to be thinking of Peter that way when you did. Your face was an open book and they’d be able to tell if something was… off.

Your next class passed quickly as well, since you were having issues stopping the daydreams centered around a soft pair of lips and chocolate, curly hair.

You strutted to the cafeteria a bit more eagerly than usual, ready to get your hot lunch and to see the object of your morning fantasies. After getting a questionable-looking burger and a side of fries, you tried to hide your enthusiasm as you approached your friends at the lunch table. Stop staring at Peter, damn it!

“Hey,” Peter greeted you with a smile, his voice sweet. You let the sound pour over you and settle in the base of your stomach. The butterflies loved it.

“Hey, guys,” you smiled at Ned and Peter in turn, trying desperately not to let your gaze linger on the latter. You subconsciously crossed your legs. Peter swallowed.

“So…” Ned began a bit awkwardly, apparently sensing something in the air, “what’s our plan with, ya know…?” You raised your eyebrows at him. He lowered his voice. “Arachnizilla?”

Peter rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his face, obviously still not a fan of Ned’s nickname for the escaped science experiment. You bit back a giggle.

“Yeah, what is our plan for… Arachnizilla?” you asked, your lips turning up at the ridiculous moniker.

Peter groaned exasperatedly, throwing his head back. “No, not you too!”

“I knew I liked you!” Ned laughed triumphantly, fist-bumping you with a satisfied smirk. You winked at Peter in an apology. His suddenly seemed a little less annoyed.pet

“So, what did Spider-Man say after I left?” you asked them, popping a ketchup-covered fry in your mouth. Ned looked at Peter expectantly.

Peter leaned in, lowering his voice. “He, uh… he said that he’d check it out. I showed him what we’d found in those files. He’s going to look for it.”

You swallowed thickly. “He said that?” Your brow furrowed with worry. “Not that I don’t think Spider-Man can handle this, but… I mean, you saw that thing…”

Ned gulped too, again looking at his friend for confirmation. Peter straightened, pride in his posture. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.”

Part 9 is coming soon!

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