#BRAVER THAN YOU THINK. ╲ book › interaction.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

WAIT WAIT— what if 👀 what if Yandere!Tubbo and Yandere!Tommy falling for the reader at the same time

BROO— THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES

ooooooOOOOO DAMN this one is gonna be good! I love the way you think! So I wrote this as headcanons, but I will write this as an actual story if requested. ^^

This is not exactly implied romantic??? I'm still scared about writing their characters as directly romantic????? I'll probably get braver about it but still lowkey worried.

Yandere!C!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic

Tommy, at first, completely denied even acknowledging your existence.

Until he saw someone interact with you.

Then he would start pulling out his sword or glaring at them from across the room.

He would definitely pin them in an alleyway and threaten every single one of their canon lives.

Tommy, please. Niki was just trying to give you cookies.

He's the kind of Yandere that would greatly keep his distance both physically, emotionally and mentally. Basically, he would be a Tsundere Yandere.

Tubbo, on the other hand, would be extremely sweet to you.

Need netherite? He had an extra few ingots ready in his pockets!

Interacting with someone who wasn't him? Was he not good enough for you??? Fine. You don't deserve him.

He would cry to you and make you feel guilty OR completely ignore you for a week straight until you come crawling back to him and apologizing.

Straight up can flip emotions like a switch.

The first time either of them realized the other liked you as well, was when they were listening to Mellohi on their bench, watching the sunset when they saw you having a conversation with Ranboo at the bottom of the cliff.

"What're they doing talking to him?" Tommy growled lowly and leaned forward to glared at the enderman who was talking to you. He reached for his bow n' arrow before Tubbo grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "What? I don't want them talking to anyone but me."

"What do you mean 'anyone but you'?! You avoid them like they're a virus!" Tubbo stared at him, digging his fingers into Tommy's bicep a small bit to show his anger a bit more, "They should only be talking to me."

The blond turned towards his brunet friend and yanked his arm out of his grasp, "Excuse me?" He glared into Tubbo's dull blue eyes, gritting his teeth, "You do nothing but give them stuff!"

"And you treat them like shit and avoid them!" The smaller of the two retorted angrily, trying to keep his tone level enough to where you didn't hear.

Mellohi, the music that had been playing mere moments ago, slowly came to a stop and left nothing but silence and tension in the air. You had noticed them arguing from below, but Ranboo (who had heard their entire argument) decided to pull you away from them and bring you to the Tundra.

"Are you trying to take everything from me?!" Tommy tightened his grip on his diamond sword, although part of him knew that if Tubbo equipped his netherite armour, there would be absolutely no competition whatsoever.

"Take things from you?! They're a human being and you choose to ignore that fact when you ignore them or call them terrible names!"

"I treat everyone like that! You already have Ranboo, I don't understand why you're chasing after them with hearts in your eyes when you're fuckin' married! Loyal much! Oh wait, you aren't loyal, you EXILED ME!"

"It's platonic! I told you that already! And you're starting this again now, Tommy?!"

Ranboo actually felt nervous leaving you alone around both Tommy AND/OR Tubbo after hearing their entire argument that day.

Tommy, although now a lot nicer, became extremely clingy towards you and constantly would walk over and drag you away mid-conversation with anyone that wasn't him. ESPECIALLY if you were talking to Tubbo.

Man would bring you everywhere with him if you would let him.

Netherite mining? Get your pick.

To get new discs? Pack your bags, we're going on an adventure.

Straight up does everything he can do to get you away from Tubbo because he's petty.

He tried giving you as many gifts as Tubbo, but mans is broke.

Tubbo would get extremely annoyed by Tommy even just walking through the area when he was with you.

Would start to hold your hand or link arms with you (if you're comfortable), just so Tommy couldn't pull you away as easily.

Started to try guilt-tripping you into living in Snowchester, and even tried to get you to live in the mansion.

Ranboo actually lied to Tubbo, saying he was scared of enderwalking and hurting you, to convince Tubbo not to guilt-trip you further into living in the mansion.

Tubbo's constant gift-giving got so much more extreme.

Want netherite ingots to make armour?

Nope. No lifting a finger.

He already made you fully enchanted netherite god armour anyway.

Has definitely tried to convince Ranboo to let him involve you in the platonic marriage.

"Ranboo! My beloved!" Tubbo called jokingly, walking into their home. He kicked the snow on his boots before pulling down his hood and taking off his hat, hanging it on the hook as he took off his footwear, "I have a proposition for you!"

The monochrome-coloured man lifted his head and set down the journal in his hand, the ink likely still wet judging by the quill in his hand, "Yeah? What's that?" He placed the feathered pen in the pot of ink and turned to face his platonic husband.

"What would you say to extending our marriage to three people? Like a polyamorous relationship. Like Sapnap, Karl and Big Q?" Tubbo sat down in the chair beside him, watching as Ranboo was left reeling for a few seconds.

"W-well, one, I think you mean expanding. Two, with who?!" The tall male sat up quickly, bumping his leg on the table from his minor flailing, "A-and, and, what about Michael? Are you sure they can be trusted with him?"

Tubbo held out his hand to calm his friend down, making his friend put his hands down so he didn't accidentally hit something, "You know what I meant, and (Y/n)! Y'know... Like, the one with (h/l) (h/c) hair, (tall/short)! (Y/n), them!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who they are, it's just..." He paused to gather his words, glancing away from his friend. In all reality, he wouldn't mind inviting you into the platonic marriage, even if he knew Tubbo felt more romantic feelings towards you. He didn't shut up about it. It was the fact that he was worried about what kind of mental manipulation Tubbo would do to you if you did agree to be in the marriage. Or even what Tommy would do to you or Tubbo!

"...Just?"

'Your relationship with Tommy is beyond screwed already... Imagine what would happen if both of his friends left him to be in a platonic relationship with me. Tubbo, all of us would be in severe danger.' He thought silently before taking a breath. "I-I don't have my enderwalking state under control... I'm already scared for Michael enough, and I don't want to hurt her as well... Give it some time and we'll see. Please.." He whispered, lying through his teeth. Ranboo knew you were damn good at protecting yourself and could knock his long and lanky ass to the dirt within seconds.

Tubbo's bright shiny eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as his smile began to falter, "Ah... Yeah. I guess that makes sense. For their safety I suppose." His normal look returned and he gave him a smile, "Yeah, that does make a lot of sense. I'll ask again next month to see what happens."

"What... What about Tommy-"

"What about him?" He demanded sharply, his smile vanishing in mere seconds which caught Ranboo off guard yet again, "He doesn't need to be in their life. He would do more harm to them than good!"

Ranboo was left gaping, his mouth moving but not creating any sounds. He watched as Tubbo eyed him carefully before he got up, murmuring something about grabbing food then going to bed.

Once the goat hybrid was completely out of sight, Ranboo reached for his memory book and took the quill again.

'Protect (Y/n) from Tubbo and Tommy. Get them out of DreamSMP.'

Ranboo was scared for you.

He was stuck watching as these crazy two men fought over you, threatened you, manipulated you... It was worrying, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong. If he didn't have an adopted son, a platonic husband that he still cared about despite him being another Dream at this point, and a Syndicate to protect him from, he would've packed everything and ran, bringing you with him.

He was practically walking on eggshells around this man that he had once been extremely close to!

It practically sent shivers down his spine...

Eventually, it got to the point where Ranboo had gone to your house in the ungodly hours of the morning to talk to you.

This man LITERALLY crept into Tubbo's room AND Tommy's house to make sure they were both asleep before going to talk to you.

"Ran... Boo?" You asked, yawning softly as you leaned against the door, your hair all frizzy and messed up, "What's up? It'sssss... Like 5:30am. The sun is barely even up..."

"(Y/n)... Can we go inside? Please... There's something very wrong.." He murmured softly, his memory book tightly held in his grasp as he glanced around. Tommy could be waking up sometime soon, and he did not want to get caught talking to you. He would certainly be down a canon life before he could even say 'sorry'.

You watched the nervous man in front of you and nodded before stepping aside to let him in. Peaking outside, you looked around for what was causing him to panic but went back inside once you didn't see anything. "What's wrong?" Softening your tone, you gestured for him to sit at the table while you made coffee.

Once he had a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, Ranboo slowly began to gather his nerve and speak. He told you everything he could remember, and even opened his memory book to tell you about the things he didn't remember. Everything from the fight where Tommy and Tubbo's friendship completely went downhill a few months ago, to the threats Tubbo used against Tommy, the manipulation against you, the threats he had received by talking to you, and even Tubbo's violent mood switches when talking about you or Tommy.

The entire time, you just sat there wide-eyed as you listened to him ramble on about his fears and worries, and everything in between. He even mentioned wanting to actually divorce Tubbo because of how scared he was for you and his own life. "I don't... Not... Believe you... But this is- this is a little difficult to believe." You knew the enderman hybrid wouldn't lie about something so serious, and he definitely wouldn't be shaking like a leaf if it was a joke or a lie.

"Y-yeah, I expected that... But I really do care about your safety, honestly. You know I wouldn't joke about this kind of thing, especially about Tubbo." He murmured softly, looking at his crown laying on the table in front of him, "In all honesty, I came here this early because I was scared about Tommy trying to kill me if he saw me talking to you..."

"He wouldn't ki-"

The door slammed open dramatically and there was a cheerful shout of your name, "(Y/n)!!! Let's go mining for diamon-" Tommy walked into your kitchen, only to freeze mid-step and midfacial expression. His expression went from surprised to annoyance to a grim smile, "Hello Ranboo!" He gave him a smile that was more like baring his teeth as he twirled his axe nonchalantly.

He was going to hurt him...

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere tommyinnit #yandere tommyinnit x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo #ranboo #ranboolive #dsmp #tommyinnit dreamsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #ranboo dream smp #tommyinnit dream smp #tubbo dream smp #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!ranboo

[astaroth1357]

The "No Longer Undateable, Totally Attainables" Fanclubs at RAD (Said I'd Call Them That, I'm Not Budging)

Every story needs a resolution and the italics blurb is ready to bring its struggles to a close. It’s found that, in the end, it was not nearly as pointless as once thought. Not only did it have a function - it had substance - and made the most of its existence for what it was… Through its journey for purpose, it became all it ever wanted to be… worthwhile. Having finally lived its story, the italics blurb is now at peace...

Diavolo

Fanclub? Why just a club? Shouldn't everybody love their king??

Eh, just kidding. Take a passing glance at the fervor around the English royalty you’ll see that there’s a fascination with royalty among some of  the “common folk” and the Devildom is no different.

Oddly enough, though, Diavolo really doesn’t dislike his fans at all. Quite the opposite, in fact! Part of him kind of likes that he has subjects that would like him that much and he would probably interact with them more but…

Barbatos absolutely will not let him slack off from his princely duties just to pay attention to such “pointless matters.” So, whether Diavolo wants to meet them or not, his hands are pretty tied…

Occasionally one or two will slip through the cracks at RAD and offer him gifts or simply wish him  a nice day and honestly he couldn't be happier when that happens (if for no other reason than it breaks up the monotony of his royal obligations). 

Lucifer is, unfortunately, also on the “Princes Don’t Talk to Groupies” squad so between his interference and Barbatos’... Barbatos-ness interactions very rarely ever gets to happen… It’s a shame, really, let this man have friends, dammit!!

Barbatos 

The fanclub of Barbatos are few but oddly passionate…

Look, Barbs does not pay ANY attention to his fanclub because he’s too busy working for his Young Lord. He's pretty much always by his side at RAD to start with… but yet…

Barb's fans are absolutely all behind this man, even if they have to be so from afar.

...and I do mean AFAR. Chances are they can't ever get too close to him so they pretty much have to crowd around doorways and windows just to get a glimpse.

Braver ones will try to break into the Castle… not to steal anything or even to stalk him indoors. It's because it's nearly impossible for anyone to break into the Castle without Barbatos knowing about it.

Admittedly, this is kind of a dumb way to get his attention because he'll be far more focused on "escorting" any trespassers into the Castle dungeon, but hey, if it work, right?

No one, not even Diavolo, knows how Barbs truly feels about them. Any time he's asked he only smiles and changes the subject… To spare either his or their embarrassment is really anyone’s guess.

Simeon 

What? Do you think it's weird that an angel would have a fanclub full of demons? Have you seen this man?

Simeon fans come in two forms, the ones who love him for being just the picture of perfection and those who admire his work as an author.

In truth, he's not all that unfamiliar with having a fanclub (again, author), though he's never had the chance to interact with them before…

He's as gracious as ever. He always accepts their gifts and signs their books or poses for a picture or two (though he will a little flustered when asked).

Levi also absolutely heads one of his clubs. The man loves TSL more than anything and, of course, he'd start a club to celebrate the guy who wrote it!

Thanks to his position, and technically being Simeon’s friend, Levi also got Simeon to record an auidobook-style reading of a few of his favorite chapters and that sent the whole club into orbit.

Though Luke constantly reminds Simeon not to let all the popularity go to his head, there's really no fear of that happening. This is Simeon we're talking about!… right?

Solomon

Unlike Barbatos who just ignores his fans, Solomon truly doesn’t seem to register he has a fanclub - or least he's very good at acting like it...

Nobody really knows just how much Solomon cares about his fanclub, he's… hard to get a read on.

He's the kind of guy who will pull shit like:

"Solomon, have you checked on your fans recently? I think they spiked the courtyard fountain with some kind of potion… Levi got turned into a frog."

"What fans?"

"The people in your club."

"What club?"

"Solomon…"

"You mean the people walking around in replicas of my cape?"

"Yes, Solomon."

"What about them?"

"You know what? I give up..." 

They all kind of share his mad energy, so they'll do weird pranks and stuff  to try and get his attention.

Not surprisingly a decent chunk of them already have a pact with the guy anyway, so at least they have that going for them. Those who don't, actively ask him but Solomon works in mysterious ways… They could have to keep asking for a while.

Luke

Little boy kind of hates having a fanclub… First because they were demons and then later because they treat him like such a child…

Look, Luke is adorable and there's a subset of people who want to take in and dote on adorable people: demon and human alike.

His fanclub is largely made up of girls who do things like pinch his cheeks, pat his head, bring him cookies… that sort of thing.

He always whines to Simeon about it, but the older angel never takes him too seriously because he can tell that he doesn't actually dislike his fans nearly as much as he says he does.

One of the girls got sick once and he was so concerned that he brought her soup and get-well cupcakes… What? He's still an angel! Illness is no laughing matter...

Honestly, if Luke's fans were to go on and leave him alone like he says he'd be quite sad… So he lets them coo and coddle him as much as they like (within reason, of course).

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me attainables #obey me undateables #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me luke #obey me barbatos

[milstrim]

Home Is in My Arms

Tony Stark had had a daughter.

Her name had been Penelope.

She had had superpowers.

And he hadn't seen her in four years.

The ten year-old had last been seen on March thirty-first, 2012. The day of the Chitauri invasion. Tony had seen her that morning, and he guessed he could at least be grateful that their last interaction hadn't been like his own with his parents. Instead of a fight that was never resolved, the two had giggled on the couch of the newly furnished tower, him and Pepper with glasses of wine and Penny with her mint milkshake. Pepper had side-eyed them exasperatedly, as though their laughs and jokes had been the worst ruckus anyone had ever made.

And then Coulson. And then Steve. And then Natasha and Bruce and a God he had learned about in history when he was younger. And then Loki and the Helicarrier and explosions that had left Tony's head ringing--but nothing had hurt more than the loss of his friend.

Everything had gone by so quickly, so desperately, there had been no time to do anything about anything except gear up and go. The biggest reassurance he had given himself was that his homework had caused Pepper and Penny to leave the city for a couple of days while the girl was on Spring Break. It meant they were safe from everything was about to happen, and that he didn't have to worry past New York.

And they had won. The Avengers had been formed under desperate circumstances. They had saved the world.

And Penny had been gone.

Pepper had left on the plane, but Penny had managed to convince her godmother that she should stay at her friend's house for a sleepover. The aliens hadn't even been able to make it past the perimeter and into Queens, but the hectic of it had been enough. Or maybe she had run off to help. Even at ten she was braver than he was. Better. And equipped with superpowers from a field trip's rogue spider that made her stronger than even Captain America.

But it hadn't been enough.

No body was ever recovered. No trace of her was ever found. No footage or DNA or witnesses. There was nothing. Nothing for him to even try and grasp onto what had happened to her. How she had died. The best anyone could do was assume that a Chitauri weapon had vaporized her and to try to grieve from there.

And by God did he try.

After the Mandarin and almost losing Pepper, he'd put in more effort than he ever had. He visited the grave where no body was buried, leaving flowers and trinkets and books he knew she would have loved. He talked. To people who had known her like he had. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and even Natasha.

The two had been so close when the woman had spied on him. Closer than he had been, still trying to change and learn to be a father better than his own after Afghanistan. He'd been dying and hadn't focused on anything but himself. About what he wanted to do before he was gone, instead of what would happen to his family afterwards.

So Tony tried. He tried a lot, but trying didn't always end in success. No, sometimes it ended in helicarriers made for HYDRA to control. Or a robot meant to protect only trying to destroy. Or in the fracturing of the Avengers, with Natasha and Steve on the run while the others sat in a max security prison that he spent every living moment trying to get them out of.

Except for now. Or maybe now too. Tony didn't know why Natasha had texted him. Only that she had betrayed him and texted only a couple of weeks later with a location out in Birmingham, England and nothing else but the message 'Get here quick.'

And he had. With nothing but a quick word to Pepper to keep Ross off of his aching back for a day, he'd stepped onto his plane and arrived in just over six hours. From there the billionaire had stepped into a waiting car and zoomed towards the address the spy had sent him, his heart racing just as fast as the vehicle's as he curved through city traffic.

Tony's thoughts strayed to Steve and Barnes and what had happened the last time he'd zoomed off to help his teammate. He swallowed down on his stuttering fear, reassured partly by the guantlet-watch sat snugly on his wrist and partly because he knew Natasha. Well, he knew her better than he ever had Steve anyway. Him and Natasha had fought, and there'd always been room for disagreements and anger, but at the end of the day they knew each other. And they were family.

The mechanic pulled up outside the run-down apartment complex, giving it a onceover before parking, pulling a baseball cap on low, and stepping out.

There was a drizzle, light and cold for the summer, even in England. He frowned, but only pulled his hood up with a shiver and stepped through the rusted metal gate, allowing him access to the first floor of apartments and a set of spindly stairs that he hoped didn't lead to any kind of locked door. He didn't exactly have a key, and Tony would prefer to not draw any attention to himself while here.

The man didn't need anymore grief from Ross. Not while he was desperate to pin something on Tony, and meeting with a violator of the Accords wouldn't exactly do much for his public image.

Biting on a sigh, Tony headed up the stairs towards the apartment number that Natasha had sent him. Thankfully, there was no locked door in his way, and the only person in the hallway that the stairs had led him to seemed to be much too out of it to pay him any mind. Quicker than he really would have liked, Tony was outside Apartment 9B, the number rusted and close to falling off of its hinges. Sucking in a breath, he knocked.

It only took a few seconds for the door to click! and then crack open just enough for him to catch familiar blue eyes and cropped platinum hair interrupted by a second lock's chain.

Natasha let out a short breath of relief, unlocking the door fully and opening the door just enough that he could slip inside. He glanced around the apartment once as she locked the door back up, surprised to see it was basically exactly what he had expected. It was small and old, orderly but not quite well-kempt, with evidence of past fights staining and fracturing the walls.

"Nice place," he commented. "Very runaway."

"Very last minute," Natasha responded. "It's not as easy as you think it is to get an apartment when everyone's trying to arrest you."

"You seem to slip away no matter what. By the way, how did you get away from Ross last week? I've got to know your trick on that, because I could use some pointers."

Natasha stopped beside him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Despite his forcefully loose and nonchalant posture, Tony felt himself freeze up looking at the Avenger. Her expression, no matter what it was, had always been hard for Tony to discern when she was practically the perfect spy. But now, this smile--it was sad and joyful and regretfully guilty.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to something softer. Rarely sincere.

Natasha glanced away from him to stare at a door for a moment before glancing back at him. Her lips twitched and her eyes threatened tears in a way that he hadn't thought she would express to him.

She swallowed. "Penny's alive. And I found her."

Tony--

Tony didn't react. Not for nearly a minute. Instead he stared, his entire body stilling--even his damaged heart--before he seemed to come back to life all at once like a broken wound-up toy.

The man stumbled back a step, falling into the nearest gray wall. One lonely breath coming in in a strangled gasp as he willed for something--anything--to make sense. 

"She's alive?"

Natasha nodded.

"How?" he demanded. "How--in England? From New York? There's no way anybody could've just taken her while I was--"

The man cut himself off, dragging in another wheeze that rattled through his entire chest. His legs began to collapse under him, but his friend caught him, managing to maneuver him onto the floor slowly. Tony leaned against the wall as Natasha sat beside him, her head propped up against the wall beside him.

Neither said anything. Not for a few minutes at least at Tony's shaking and gasping ebbed. Not until he could force out images and nightmares of Penny his mind had tortured him with for years. He locked them in a box and dropped it in an ocean of useless thoughts, because his daughter was alive. Because she wasn't dead and none of it--a painful death full of fear and confusion while Tony was only blocks away that he had been tortured by for years--had ever happened.

Natasha spoke up when he'd finally managed to take in eight consistent breaths.

"I was raised in the Red Room," she started. "I was taken from my family and tortured for years. I tried to make a family there, and I did. For a little bit at least. But that family was taken too, replaced by the only world I had ever known. One based on pain and dictated structure. A cruel trick to play on a child, but it was normal for the Red Room. What wasn't normal was me not only succeeding more than they had ever dreamed, but succeeding past them. Escaping and deserting. Killing Dreykov was the last step of my defection to SHIELD. It was revenge and justice all at once. The others would be freed and I could clear out my ledger in a life I chose."

She swallowed, taking a moment.

"I failed. I failed and I didn't know." Natasha turned from staring ahead at the wall to stare at Tony. Suffering blue met broken brown, tired and guilty reflecting. In a whisper, she said, "Dreykov lived. He lived until a week ago. And the Red Room, and every Widow in it, lived under him."

Tony was touched to be trusted this much. To be trusted with even a sliver of what his friend had gone through in such a time of suspicion and betrayal. But he was scared. He was terrified, because Natasha never shared just to share. Everything she said had a point, a reason, a direction.

He tore his eyes away, shoving a hand over them and letting his head drop onto his knees. Unwillingly, he croaked, "No... Nat, please don't tell me--"

"Penny's a Widow."

Tony bit his lip, chewing on his cheek so harshly there was the tang of blood in his mouth. He took a moment, letting his head fall against the cracked and stained cement wall. Penny was alive. And she had been trained--no. Natasha's descriptions, however few and miniscule they had been, could not be described as simply training. Penny had been tortured. For four years. And what had he done but grieve and give up? If only he'd known. If only he'd found out sooner.

Natasha continued.

"The Red Room..." She took a breath and licked her lips. "After I escaped, they changed their whole system. Their method. How they hid and how they trained and--and how they controlled the women."

Something about the way Natasha said the last part sent a cold feeling down his throat.

"What did they do to her?" he croaked.

"They um...well, for lack of my understanding of it, they mind controlled her."

"They--Nat what? How would they even--"

"They controlled the brain’s neuropathways through external manipulation," came a new voice, their accent thick. Tony whipped his head around to stare at a woman he had never seen before. Like Natasha, she wore a regular hoodie and sweatpants but still looked as though she could take his life in less than a minute. There was an intensity about her, from her stance to her tied back hair to her ghostly blue eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "It was based off of blueprints for the Winter Soldier. Me and Natasha were part of the mission to retrieve them when we were young."

Despite the insanity of every new piece of information shot his way, he managed to piece it together in his head quickly enough that he opened his mouth to respond with a snapped remark, but Natasha managed to speak before he did.

"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be looking after Penny."

"I was, but then I heard how badly you were explaining everything and I came to help." Natasha glared. "Relax. I finished braiding her hair and now she's pretending to be asleep so she can listen to everyone talking."

The last part was said with a pointed look down the narrow apartment hall, but everything after Natasha had said "Penny" didn't seem to make sense anymore.

"She's here?" he asked, already scrambling to his feet. He glanced between Natasha and the woman desperately. "Penny's here right now?"

"We found her yesterday," Natasha answered cautiously. "Me and Yelena just started to free the Widows deployed around the world. We managed to give her the antidote during a shootout in Estonia. After that a friend of mine managed to get us here."

"A shoot--is she okay?"

"Just a couple of burns," Yelena said. "She may be enhanced, but she still has plenty to learn. She could still kick your ass, though."

"Thank you. Truly," Tony said, a bite of sarcasm to his voice, before turning back to Natasha, his desperation bubbling. "Which room?"

"Tony, I don't think you need to just go bursting in there. Let me--"

Tony stopped listening, every word his friend was saying dying out on his ears as he spotted a brunette and wide brown eyes poking around the corner over Natasha's shoulder. He felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes clicked.

Penny had grown. She'd sprouted almost an entire foot from the short ten year old she had been, awkward and gangly limbs that the girl had always seemed to struggle with were replaced by obvious muscle and carefully controlled movement as she stepped out from behind the wall, their stare still holding. Despite the sharper angle of her chin and jaw, she still held baby fat in her cheeks that dwindled the look of her down by a couple of years, not helped at all by the familiar roundness of her deeply brown eyes.

He swallowed. His voice broke.

"Penny?"

—-

“Penny?"

It had been years since Penny had seen her dad. Since she'd heard him. Anything about her father not privy to missions had been carefully shielded away from the teenager for years. Sometimes on the few missions she had been sent on she would catch news clippings and pictures on TV channels before she had to move on or that terrible voice in her mind would force her to ignore him. But, despite the scarcity of which she was allowed to know about her father, she had always thought about him.

Penny had swam in her memories whenever she could. Whenever she needed. She'd think about the games she and her dad had used to play. About lessons he'd taught her and days they'd spent together. About hugs and braided hair and kisses to her head. The memories had felt faint and washed away underneath everything, but she'd clung to them like a lifeline.

That being said, she hadn't expected Dad's voice to sound like that. For him to look like this. He was always so put together in her mind--so strong--even when he was messy from the lab or tired from a long day of work, always accompanied by fond child-like adoration. But now he didn't look it.

There were bruises on his face, faint but still noticeably purple. His hair wasn't as dark or thick as she remembered, growing back just a little higher on his hairline, and more lines grabbed and pulled at his face. But that wasn't what ruined her memory of strength and warmth, people aged after all, that was just reality. It was the expression on his face and glossing over his eyes. It was the way he'd said her name, so unsure and weary.

Penny, finally, looked away from Dad, instead glancing over at Yelena and trying not to look like she was too desperate for help. Yelena stared back, raising her brows and gesturing to Tony with a slight nod of her head, as if telling her to not be a coward. But Penny didn't know how to do that. Not now.

Thankfully, Natasha took over.

"I'm going to go get us some dinner. Yelena?"

Okay, so not the kind of help she'd been looking for.

Yelena gave Penny one last glance, nodded, and then followed the Avenger out of the door.

The door clicked shut and then it was just father and daughter.

"Penny," he tried again.

She hid a flinch at how small and tired his voice was, how broken he felt standing only feet from her. She hid her shock and her fear and apprehension exactly how she'd been taught, schooling her features into something easy and bored. She let her shoulders drop and her posture loosen, but the hardest part was hardening her stare. That had always been the biggest complaint of her handlers. Her senses had been sharp but her expression always so readable by her eyes.

"Hi, Dad," she said, her voice cool and casual on default. The words felt terrible leaving her lips, so she crossed her arms in an attempt to feel more stable. "It's been a while."

He chuckled, short and sad. "Yeah. You could say that."

And then there was silence. It trickled in, slow, awkward, and tense between them. Penny tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired and disappointed. When Yelena had smashed the antidote beside her, it was the first time the teenager had seen clearly in a long time, and her first thought had been of her Dad. There had been worries about if he missed her and if he'd been okay, but a fear had stabbed at her so strongly that she was still thinking about it.

Would he still love her? After all she'd done? She had hurt people. She had killed people. Not in defense. Not in good reason. But in fear and control.

"I, uh..." Penny blinked at her dad's voice, beating away her thoughts and instead focusing back on the bruised and stuttering man in front of her. "Sorry. I would've thought of something better to say if I'd known I was going to see you again. Maybe some presents too. Do you still like those peanut butter cookies?"

"The ones we used to make?" she asked. "With the Hershey Kisses?"

"Those are the ones."

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had them since I was with you."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess you wouldn't have..." he trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She stared at him, watching his expression carefully as he loosened and looked back up at her. "Well, we can't make them again? At home?"

"Sure. Sounds fun."

Penny couldn't stand how dull her voice sounds, like she couldn't care less about something that really made her want to cry in happiness. But...she didn't know what else to do. What to say. The Red Room had made sure she always knew what to do and what to say, but that had been for politicians and businessmen and people she was supposed to trick. She didn't want to trick her dad. She just--she wanted to--

Dad stepped closer, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down in a deep and concerned frown. She kept a wary eye on him as he approached, trying to force down feelings of apprehension and fear that she had become familiar with whenever anybody was in her space. But he stopped about a foot short, his reached out hand halting just away from her face as he whispered, "Oh, piccolina. It's okay." His voice broke. "It's okay. I'm gonna make sure it is... I promise."

And finally she broke.

And it hurt. It really, really hurt.

Penny leaned her cheek into his open hand as hot beads of tears caught on her eyelashes, allowing for Dad to cup his other hand around the back of her head and tentatively pull her in. It took the teenager a moment to adjust, so wired on the need to fight and never let her guard down, but then she just--crumpled.

Like a switch had been flicked, Penny buried her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze, swallowing down tears. Dad pulled her in tighter, his nose pressed into her tightly braided crown.

And then he sobbed.

It was a strangled, inhuman kind of sound that rumbled from his chest to escape the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed, but Penny wasn't an idiot. She could still hear his heart thumping and feel a tear slip from his chin onto the back of her neck. It all shocked her, but the sound found itself ringing in her ears painfully more than anything.

She flinched in his hug.

"Oh, Penny. I'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice sore with tears. "So, so sorry."

"For what?" she asked. "Not finding me? You wouldn't have been able to, Dad, even being you. Draykov made sure of it."

"I don't care. I should've done something! I should've--I should've--"

"Dad." He fell silent as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms back over her chest as she came back to her training. Dad stared at her, his dark copper eyes as guilty as she felt. "Please, just... Don't be sorry. Because I'm sorry, and if you're sorry then we're both sorry and we can't both be sorry it's--"

"What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Penny--"

"I'm not ten anymore, Dad. I don't think I'm even a kid anymore... I've--I've done too much harm. I have a lot to be sorry for."

Dad stared at her, a familiar sadness in his eyes. He chewed his cheek, brows furrowed in thought, and she was brought back to a time when she would watch him solve problems in the lab, or try to answer one of her inane questions that she never seemed to be able to stop asking.

"Let me ask you something," he started. "Do you think I'm a bad person? That I'm at fault for losing you?"

"No," she answered immediately, because her dad had always tried, no matter what. She'd known he wasn't perfect, and that a lot of people hated him for the mistakes he'd made, but she'd always known how much he really cared. How much he really cared and tried for the world. For the Avengers. For her.

"Well, then what makes you a bad person? What makes you not a kid anymore?"

Penny could only stare. She could only answer, "I've hurt people."

"I know. And I have too. But you don't think I'm a bad person, so you're not a bad person either. And what about Nat? Or your new very scary friend?"

"I forgot how much I hated arguing with you," she deadpanned.

"'Trying' to argue with me," he corrected, a smile pulling at his face. Surprisingly, she managed to smile back. Even more surprisingly, it didn't feel fake. Sure, it was small and tired, but Penny couldn't remember the last time she'd actually smiled. "See? Everything's going to be okay."

"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a violator of the Accords. If it ever gets out that I was part of the Red Room--what I did for the Red Room--almost nothing could keep me out of prison. You'll have to explain how you found me and it would make you a violator--"

"I'll handle it," Dad said. "I always handle it. And just because you don't feel like a kid doesn't mean you aren't one. There are protections for you. And we found protections for Nat. Wanda too, if she would've taken them." He muttered the last part under his breath, the words emotionless but regret and guilt clear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with a raised brow. "And how do you know about the Accords? Do they have a current events class in the Red Room?"

"We do actually have to keep up with some events for missions. But, no. I've been reading old newspapers. Did you know you were on the front page for almost two weeks in June?"

"No. Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless you're a dinosaur anyway."

"Uncle Rhodey likes the paper," she said with that still small but still real smile. "For the crossword puzzles."

"Yeah. Like I said: Dinosaur." With that, the jokes seemed to slide away as he took on a more serious tone. "But I'll handle it. I've already been trying to handle the Accords. You'll be safe, and free, at home, Penny. I promise."

"I can really come home?"

Dad paused. "Did you think you wouldn't?"

Penny shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to. I want to. But I just... I didn't know how safe it would be, and I know how to live by myself. How to avoid suspicion. I was...I was prepared for other options."

"If you were planning on running, why did you meet with me?"

"I don't know," she said. But truthfully, there had been a hole in her heart. A knot in her stomach. She'd just--she'd needed to see her dad. To apologize and let him know she was okay. She'd missed her family for so long, she had to imagine they'd missed her too. In fact, Penny had wanted nothing more to know they'd missed her. That those years in the Red Room wondering where her family was hadn't been because they didn't care.

Realistically, Penny knew Dad had missed her. Had loved her enough to grieve and look for her, but being there for so long--so terribly long--had been enough for seeds of doubt to sprout and root itself in her mind. But the teenager didn't tell her dad that. That would make him upset, and Penny was tired of being upset. Instead, she said, "Just missed you. Wanted to know that you're okay."

"Well, now you're gonna know every day," he said. "And you're going to know that Pepper is okay. And Rhodey and Happy. And you're never going to miss us again."

"Never?"

"Nope. Well, maybe when you go to school. But we can homeschool if you would prefer that. Would you?"

"Oh, uh, I don't--"

"Yeah, never mind. You don't have to know right now," he said with a wave. Then he smiled at her again, that genuine smile that squinted his eyes and pulled at his wrinkled laugh lines. "Right now, why don't we just go home?"

"Yeah," she said. And suddenly no other thought occupied her mind. Home was all she could think of. Of tall New York skyscrapers and the bustling city. Or maybe they'd go back to Malibu, even if his house was gone. Either way she'd see her uncle again. And Pepper. And Happy, who were all family to her. Family she hadn't seen in so long. "Let's go home."

Dad smiled, his eyes misty. Penny smiled back, taking his hand and leaning against him in another hug. He readily accepted, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

The best part: Nothing about him whispered danger. Or discomfort or uneasiness. There was just...comfort.

Just home.

It was the best feeling in the entire world.

—-

“Should we tell Uncle Rhodey we're on the way?"

"Nah. He loves surprises."

"He hates surprises."

"Exactly!"

Penny laughed. And the sound, the feeling, was just like home.

#peter parker #tony stark #female peter parker #irondad #irondad and spiderson #iron man fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[moonlit-jeno]

secrets | n.jm

genre/ warnings: vampire au, explicit sexual content, angst, way too much blood/ blood drinking, b i t i n g, character death (kind of), references to drugs, religion

word count: 9.5k

summary:

“I’m not scared.”

“No?” The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

notes: big thanks to @jaemallow for pushing the jaemin agenda and helping to keep me sane

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Mark grumbles at you, throwing an agitated glance over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and slow down even more just to spite him. “Dude, my dad’s going to kill me.” “He’ll be fine. Murder’s against the word of God, y’know.” You speed up despite your words, laughing at the way Mark glares at you. 

There’s a crack in the sidewalk that he trips over and you laugh good naturedly. The street leading up to the church is in less than optimal shape, littered with cracks in the sidewalk and missing chunks of cement. Mark’s dad had tried to raise money to fix the street, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Mark starts walking slower all of a sudden and you grumble, glaring at him when he grabs your wrist to yank you backwards. You’re about to ask what his problem is when you see the three figures at the end of the road, moving closer towards you two.

“You’re kidding me.” They hear it, they must, with their superhuman senses. It only makes them smile brighter. You glance at Mark. “Wanna turn around?”

“Too late.” Mark breathes, staring straight ahead of him with wide eyes. You look away from him to find the three vampires standing directly in front of you, blocking your way.

A groan leaves you and you cross your arms, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Can we help you?”

The ringleader of the bunch, Jaemin, smiles. “Well, since you’re offering, I suppose I am feeling a little hungry.”

The church is only one block down but if they don’t want to let you pass, you’re not going to get there. Mark shifts nervously next to you, shaking his head when you open your mouth to make a remark. That doesn’t stop you from saying it. “You realize that just because you’re from the 1200’s doesn’t mean that you have to talk like you’re from the 1200’s.”

“I resent that.” Jaemin frowns, clutching his hands to his chest likes he’s been stabbed. “I was born in 1706. It’s almost like you don’t care about me at all.”

“Is it? Must be because I don’t.” The other two vampires are silent, though one of them- Jeno- watches with amusement. The other one is unfamiliar and looks like he’s trying to figure out to pair you with white or red wine. You shudder and turn your attention to Jeno. “Nice cross. I thought shit like that burned your skin? You know, because you’re a demon and all that.”

Jeno’s eyes smile with him and it’s hard to remember that he’s a monster. He brushes his thumb against the small mark under his eye, shrugging. “Nah, only the blessed ones. Or, y’know, the silver ones. But this one? I just wanted to piss off the church daddy who told me that I deserved to rot in worse places than the sewer.“

You snort before you can stop yourself. “Church daddy?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Church daddy, father, same thing.” A pause. “Hey, Mark, isn’t that your dad?”

Mark avoids eye contact and nods. “Yeah, but I like, I don’t like, speak for him, y’know?” He laughs nervously.

“You don’t have to.” That’s the one you don’t recognize, glaring at Mark. “We can tell it’s what you’re thinking. You don’t even have the decency to look at us?”

“And who are you? Their vampire bitch or something?” You snap to Mark’s defense, not wanting the vampires to prey on Mark’s nerves.

The boy lunges like he’s going to attack you but Jeno grabs him by the neck. Jaemin laughs. “Careful princess, that hits a little too close to home for our little Renjun over here.” To clarify, he leans a little closer and lowers his voice. Not like it matters, the other two can hear him just fine. “Jeno got carried away while feeding the other day and turned him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and this time you don’t have a witty comeback. Vampires are monsters, yes, but they have laws. And it is very, very illegal to turn a human. “That’s-”

“Against the law?” Jeno finishes. “Yeah. It was an accident though, plus he’s from out of town! So I can’t technically get in trouble.”

“Technically.” You mock, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, we’ve got places to be so if we could speed this conversation up?”

Jaemin pouts. “So soon? You’re already late for church, why even bother going?”

You stand your ground. “Good bye, Jaemin. Make sure you do a better job of training your new puppy.” Renjun snarls at you.

“What, like how you trained your puppy?” Jaemin nods over at Mark and the boys face turns red. “Bye, y/n, Mark. I’d ask you to say hello to God for me but he doesn’t exist!”

He walks off with that as a goodbye, Renjun and Jeno on his heels. Jeno at least has the decency to smile at you and tell you to have a good rest of your day.

They’re right about one thing: going to church when you‘re already late sucks. A few people glance back at you and Mark when you sneak in, sitting in the last row. You spot your parents sitting in the front row along with Mark’s brother. Luckily none of them notice you slipping in, so they won’t know just how late you were.

Mark seems on edge and you pat his knee, frowning at how violently he flinches. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He just gives you a tight smile. Mark’s always been a nervous kid, so you figure it has to do with the little vampire interaction you just had. Or fear that his dad will yell at him for being late. They’re both pretty scary.

It’s not until after the service that you talk to your parents- your mother taking the time to hug Mark and pinch his cheeks before she even looks at you- and your father asks where you were.

“It was my fault, sir.” Mark speaks up, knowing that your parents adore him and won’t be upset. “I couldn’t find my church clothes, I forgot that they were in the wash and had to sort through all of my laundry. Y/n was an angel and stayed with me to help.”

“Huh,” Your father says, looking Mark up and down. “Well, your shoes could use a good polishing, but you look sharp, kid. Good man.” He pats Mark’s shoulder and walks off to talk to a friend. Your mother raises an eyebrow and shrugs, loading you up with tasks to take care of when you get home.

Do the dishes, fold the laundry, remember to take the store bought pie out of the container and pop it onto a plate so that it looks homemade. “Oh, and one last thing.” She stops you, turning away from her conversation about her book club meeting with some lady that she can’t stand. “I don’t want you walking through the city. Those vampires are getting braver and braver, attacking in broad daylight.”

“Okay, I’ll take the long way.” You promise her. She nods, and satisfied that you won’t die, turns back to her friends. You say goodbye to Mark and a handful of other people- most of whom you don’t like- and head home.

You have absolutely no intention of taking the long way home. It adds an extra half an hour to your walk and you swear you always get attacked by bugs. Besides, vampires might be dangerous, but it’s not like you have a high chance of encountering one. The three you’d talked to earlier were harmless, two of them attending your same university.

Jeno did medical research, occasionally stepping in to teach if the professors needed help. He’s technically a doctor, but he finds ways to multitask. The benefits of being immortal, you suppose, is that you learn a lot, especially if you’ve been alive since the 1100’s. He was nice enough by himself, though he would never answer your questions about history. Not that he wouldn’t try, but the poor guy would just get so confused that he would end up rambling about a completely unrelated topic.

Jaemin was a little different. He took classes, though his goal was to learn about interesting topics and keep up with the culture, not to fit in like Edward Cullen and prey on teenage girls. For someone so old, he’s surprisingly good at the technology classes, learning how to use a camera faster than your much younger parents. Jaemin also holds tutoring sessions for struggling students, pretty much offering help for every subject. Sometimes he assists Jeno with his research, though he never says what they’re researching. It’s always the same vague answer: medicine.

You know them pretty well, and yet you wouldn’t say that you’re friends. Vampires and humans coexist, but it’s not always that peaceful. There’s a definite divide between the two, a definite feeling of “we’re better than them” coming from both sides. And you can see why that divide is there, you can understand why.

After all, it’s not like you’re too fond of vampires yourself.

Cursed to hell, is a phrase used too often by your parents, by the church. God’s reject’s is another. And when you look at them, it’s hard to disagree with those statements.

They don’t burn in the sun but they can’t touch silver, can’t say God’s name, can’t enter a building without explicit permission. They catch on fire when they enter holy places (they’re fine to enter the one across town, but that’s another story).

Similar insults are used to describe humans. “How can you call us God’s rejects when you die so easily?” One vampire had countered when you were in middle school, pointing out that vampires couldn’t get diseases or die of natural causes like a human. He’d called you weak. You’d thrown a cross at him. Both of you had been suspended.

Still, you don’t hate vampires. And you especially can’t hate vampires now, not when you’re failing your chemistry class and your only option for help is Na Jaemin.

Mark has a different opinion. “Y/n, you can’t go to his house! He’ll kill you!”

You laugh. “Mark, come on. It’s either he kills me, or my parents kill me when they find out I wasted my tuition on a class I failed. It’ll be fine.” He still looks unhappy. You wiggle your fingers at him. “Look! I have silver rings on. I’m wearing my cross. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling your parents you were killed by a vampire, y/n.” He sounds dead serious and you raise your eyebrows. 

“Mark, I’m helping with a research project. I’m not deciding to work for the food bank.” You point out. “This is the only way I can make up my grade, Mark. It’s generous of my professor to even let me do this.” He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you, and pulls his necklace off. Walking closer, he drapes the silver cross over your head. “Fine. Just, please be careful.” You smile and pat his cheek, tucking the charm under the collar of your shirt. “I always am.”

Jaemin lives in a pretty nice house on the top of the hill, which sucks because your calves are burning by the time you get up there. It has a pretty view, though, and it’s a decent distance away from his closest neighbor. You always joke that he could kill someone up here. Going up alone, that joke doesn’t seem as funny.

He’s got an old fashioned knocker on the wooden door that you only use because you’re not too fond of digging splinters out of your hands. It makes a pretty solid sound, and it barely takes five seconds before Jaemin answers the door. He looks good, wearing a dark blue button up with his hair pushed off of his forehead. Almost like he put some effort in. He obviously catches you giving him a once over and he grins.

“Eager to see me?” You tease, stepping past him into his house. He laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course. The world revolves around you, I just had to get a glimpse.” Jaemin drawls. 

“Alright, what’s the research project?” You ask, wanting to get straight to the point. “I’m only here because I need to pass my class, Jaemin.

He takes his time flipping through a book on his coffee table before glancing up at you, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms. “The effects of vampire blood in humans.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket. “If you say that you’re making me drink your blood, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking hell, y/n. I know you humans have a problem with vampires, but I’m a researcher. I do research, and I do it just as responsibly and professionally as human researchers.” Jaemin snaps, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard him not use a flirting or teasing tone. “And besides, we already know what that would do. It would only turn you.” You swallow thickly at the thought of being turned. “Then what do you need me here for?” “We just need a few of your cells and a tiny blood sample.” Jaemin says, moving to where you stand next to the counter. “We’re researching if vampire blood has an effect on strengthening human cells, or preventing undesirable circumstances that affect humans. You know, aging, disease, the like.” He hands you some paperwork and you glance over it briefly. There’s nothing about him draining you dry of blood, so you sign it. “Great. We won’t be taking the samples today considering we’re at my house, but I’ll walk you through the basics of what we’re doing. You know, assuming that you’re smart enough to understand it.” “I’m not fucking dumb, Jaemin.” You snap, glaring at him.

“No, of course not.” He sympathises, smiling down at you. “Just a little slow. Come on y/n, you’re failing one of the easiest courses at the university. You’re not exactly smart.”

You shove the papers over to Jaemin, purposely letting your silver rings graze his exposed skin. Jaemin flinches back from your touch, a sharp hiss leaving him as he grabs at his wrist. He glares at you. “You fucking serious?”

It’s mean, but what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You meet his gaze head on, eyebrow arched. “What’s the matter, leech? Can’t take the heat?” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to ground himself. It’s probably not smart to goad him, but that’s exactly what you do. “Aww, don’t ignore me, leech. It’s rude. Didn’t your parents ever teach you any manners?”

All the air in your body leaves you with a whoosh as Jaemin pins you up against the wall, wrists held over your head by one of his hands. A dull pain radiates through your body and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your back from the impact, not that Jaemin seems to care. The boy stares down at you with dark eyes, standing way too close for comfort. 

“My parents died 300 years ago.” Jaemin snarls. “But yours are still alive. Didn’t they teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re not older than me.” The words are intended to be fierce, defiant. They come out shaky, timid. “You’re a dead man, Jaemin.”

That makes him laugh, though you don’t think he’s found your words funny. “Yeah? Do I seem dead to you?” He tightens his grip on your wrist and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, make you look him in the eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat, little girl. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You are. He knows that.

“No?” He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side before dipping down, letting his mouth hover over your neck. “Not even now?”

You shake your head, swallowing down a whimper. He’s right about your heartbeat, it’s fluttering so frantically that you can hear it in your ears, feel it under your skin. You’re scared, but not for the reasons he thinks you are.

Jaemin smiles at you, fangs on full display, and moves even closer to your neck. The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

He scrapes his fangs along your neck, an action that’s painful in the most pleasurable way, but doesn’t break the skin. His tongue darts out instead, soothing over the pain before his lips press to your skin in an open mouthed kiss. Your fingers flex above your head and you ache to touch him, to fist your hand in his soft hair and pull him closer.

A moan leaves you and he pulls away, pressing his thumb to the area. Jaemin can feel your pulse from there and he smirks at how frantically your heart beats.

“You’re not scared?” Jaemin asks, the question condescending. He doesn’t believe you. “You do realize that I could sink my fangs into your pretty little neck and drain you dry, right?”

The mention of him biting you drags a keen out of your throat, and you find yourself whimpering out a “please” before you can help yourself. It has Jaemin pausing, eyes roaming over you as he reassesses the situation.

“Oh, you really aren’t scared.” Jaemin smirks. “Who knew that you were so fucking filthy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, dipping his head down and trailing the tip of his tongue up your throat. It feels nice, so, so nice, but it’s interrupted by a burning pain, a sob ripping from you at the intensity of it.

You thrash against his hold, but then the pain starts to get replaced with a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you slowly melt into his touch, arching against him to expose more of your throat.

Jaemin pulls away eventually, licking over your wound a few times before pulling back to give you a bloody grin. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, and the bliss must be apparent on your face because Jaemin chuckles darkly before leaning back in. “You want more, don’t you?”

“Yeah, want it.” The words are breathless and slur together, your body thrumming with heat, begging for more. Jaemin does the opposite of what you want and steps away.

“Be a good girl and take those fucking rings off, then.” Jaemin commands, and you swear you’ve never moved faster than you’re moving now, carelessly dropping your jewelry to the floor. Mark’s necklace lands near his foot and he scowls at it, crushing the piece of metal beneath the heel of his shoe.

You immediately grab for him when you’re done, but Jaemin doesn’t let you pull him forward. He just scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the sofa. You end up straddling his lap, his back pressing into the couch, and he wastes no time before sinking his fangs back into your neck.

“God,” You breathe out, winding your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to you. “F-fuck, Jaem, that feels so good.”

He just hums against your throat, continuing to suck and lick at the wound. There’s a little bit of blood on his lips when he pulls away and you wipe at it with your thumb before letting the digit slip past his lips. He sucks on it slowly, gazing up at you with dark eyes, and lets his fangs graze the skin. Arousal jolts through you and you whimper, pulling your hand away and dragging him back to your neck.

“Baby wants more?” Jaemin teases, not waiting for an answer before sinking his fangs into you, this spot even more sensitive than the last. You whine loudly, tugging at his hair and feeling your eyes roll back in your head at the euphoria spreading through your body. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s so much heat coursing through you that you can barely function.

“Mhmm, yeah.” You pant out. “Want more. Oh my God Jaemin, I’m so fucking wet.”

Jaemin groans at your words, one of his hands sliding up your thigh before moving inwards, cupping your pussy over your clothes. He pulls his hand away when you try to grind down, grabbing onto your hip to stop your movements.

“No.” He growls, the simple word vibrating through your entire body and making you shake. “You come from this, nothing else.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as you hold onto him for dear life, your core clenching desperately around nothing. You hug him tighter, letting your head fall back on your shoulders to expose more of your throat, your lips parted to let Jaemin drag sound after sound of pleasure out of you. It feels good, way too good considering the action, and you lose yourself to the feeling.

The collar of your shirt is tugged down and then Jaemin’s lips are attaching to the top of your breast, fangs sinking into the delicate flesh. You keen and shove your chest further into his face, not knowing what else to do besides hold onto him for dear life. Your body feels heavy but your head feels light and it’s such a startling contrast to the euphoria coursing through your veins that it makes you dizzy. It’s hard to see straight, let alone think straight, and your pussy throbs with every little bit of blood that Jaemin takes from your body. Your hips rock against nothing but air, desperately searching for some sort of friction, something to fill your needy cunt, but you can’t find anything and it has you sobbing out in frustration.

More bite marks are left, more electricity shoots through your body, more wetness drips out of your pussy. You swear you’ve never felt this good in your life, and that’s only confirmed when Jaemin seals his lips over the first mark he left, licking and sucking at the wound until it opens all over again and you feel yourself falling, white flashing behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life crashes over you. You grab at Jaemin as tightly as you can, screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he drags out your pleasure, lets you get high off all of his kisses and bites.

It lasts forever, and it takes even longer for you to come down to yourself, Jaemin stroking your hair and your back. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his face clean and dry of any blood. It takes you a while to notice that there’s an ice pack on your neck and a plate of food on the table in front of you, and you vaguely wonder how long you were out for if Jaemin had time to do all of this for you.

“Don’t move too fast, baby.” Jaemin cautions, noticing you struggling to sit up. “I took way more blood than I meant to, you’re gonna feel a little weak.” “A little?” Your muscles feel like jelly when you try to push yourself off of him and you collapse back onto Jaemin’s chest with a soft groan. Jaemin huffs a laugh and helps you sit up, turning you around on his lap so that your back is to his chest. He drops a soft kiss to your ear and your eyelids flutter. 

“Here, take these.” Pills are dropped into your hand, a bottle of some energy drink you don’t recognize. “It’ll replace all the nutrients and stuff you lost.” Jaemin watches you down the drink in one go, tossing it across the room when you hand the empty bottle back to him. “How are you feeling?”

Your vision is much clearer than it was, though you still feel lethargic and would like to do nothing except lay down in a soft bed for the rest of your life. “My head hurts.” Jaemin hums. “Okay. I would rattle off some instructions for you to follow but I know it’ll just make your headache worse. I’ll write them down for you instead, how’s that.” “You’re so self aware.” Reality hits you when you feel the bruises on your throat, on your chest, and realize that yes, all of that did just happen. “Um. I didn’t know it could feel that-” You trail off, hand waving vaguely in the air. “Good?” Jaemin offers, laughing when you nod. “Mhmm, did they not tell you about that? I’m sure they make it sound like being bitten by a vampire is the worst thing imaginable at that fancy church you go to.” You look away, embarrassed, and Jaemin laughs. “You know that humans make drugs out of our saliva, right? That’s why there are hunters.” Your eyes shoot open in alarm. “Really? That’s awful.”

 Jaemin hums, nodding. “Yeah, well, when it’s profitable...” He laughs bitterly. “Anyways, it’s an expensive drug. And you just got that shit for free.”

“I feel so honored.” You laugh, snuggling into him. He pushes you back. 

“Y/n, I need you to understand something.” Jaemin says, tone suddenly serious. His eyes burn straight into your soul. “That was a mistake. I’m not- we can’t do that again.”

It shouldn’t hurt you. What you just did is considered shameful by many, you should be relieved that he’s telling you it can’t happen again. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with a vampire. “Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod, looking away from his intense gaze to blink back your tears. “Yeah, we just got carried away.” Jaemin looks like he wants to say something else, lips parting for a second before shaking his head, offering a tight smile instead. “We got everything done that we needed to get done. You should rest now.” 

He doesn’t mean now as in right this second, which he made especially clear after telling you that it was a mistake, but you can’t help it. You’re asleep in seconds.

When you wake up for the second time, Jaemin is nowhere to be found. You’re in your own bed, tucked in nice and neatly, and you smile as you realize it meant that the vampire had carried you home. There’s the list of instructions that he’d promised you on your nightstand, signed with nearly illegible hand-writing. Your smile grows before promptly dropping off. Vampires can’t get into a house without being invited. You’ve never invited him in, which means that he must’ve either asked permission from Mark or your parents. Neither is good.

The gravity of the situation hits you when Mark walks into your room, jaw set, arms crossed. He blanches when he sees your neck, the sight clearly making him uncomfortable. “Holy- y/n, I told you that you couldn’t trust Jaemin. You’re lucky I was here when you brought you home because I can guarantee your parents would react way worse than me.”

“Jaemin was fine. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” You see the exact moment that those words process in Mark’s mind, his face going from worried to angry.

“You let him drink from you? What were you thinking? Y/n, you look like you got mauled.” Mark sounds disgusted and you try not to shrink into yourself.

The bruises ache when you press over one of them and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you at how it makes you shiver. “Relax, it’s not like I let him turn me. We just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Mark, it felt so good.” Your eyelids flutter shut at the memory, snapping back open when Mark scoffs.

“So what? You want to be their blood bag now?” Mark’s voice rises in pitch as he yells and the sound grates on your nerves. “Wanna be a vampire whore for the rest of your life? Live in a dusty ass attic and let whoever walks by have a go at you?” “Mark, what- do you hear yourself? What the fuck is your problem?” Mark’s been your best friend since you were five. Never, never, have you heard him talk like this. It hurts.

“Do I hear myself? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that. Here you are, creaming yourself while talking about letting some fucking, some bloodsucker tear your throat open! It’s disgusting.” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as Do-” He cuts himself off suddenly, but you know what he was about to say. “Just as bad as who? Donghyuck?” You shake your head, feeling hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. “It must run in the family to become filthy disappointments, then.”

Mark’s eyes soften and he grabs your wrist, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb. “It’s not too late for you. Let’s go to the church, you can pray for forgiveness.”

You feel numb when you nod, letting Mark wrap a scarf around your neck and lead you down the road. He sits next to you in the pews, rubbing your shoulder while you rest your forehead on your hands, pretending to pray. But you can’t focus, can’t stop thinking about your brother.

Donghyuck was Mark’s best friend before you were. The three of you would hang out a lot, though you only joined the two because as Donghyuck’s younger sister, he felt obligated to include you. The two boys were inseparable, and then one day, they weren’t.

Your parents say that he was tainted by the devil. Mark’s father says that he betrayed God. You think Donghyuck simply fell in love. And love is a beautiful thing, but not when it’s between a vampire and a human. Your brother was forced to choose between his family and his love.

In the end, he chose love. 

That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to stop thinking about your brother. If he’s alive, if he’s a vampire. If he’s dead. What you would do in his situation. Not that it matters, because you wouldn’t fall in love with a vampire, but you can’t help but wonder. Is it really that bad? They were once human, too. 

The thought doesn’t leave your mind even when you go to the lab, meeting an uncharacteristically quiet Jaemin, and a very excited looking Jeno. “Y/n! Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yeah, well, gotta pass my classes somehow.” You laugh. Jaemin doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at him, keeping his gaze just a little too low and frowning. 

“Seriously though, this is great. I’ve been trying to get permission for this experiment for ages, the fact that the administration finally caved is insane.” Jeno says, turning to ruffle through some papers on the desk. You shoot a curious glance at Jaemin, finally realizing that he’s staring at your neck. Or well, your covered neck. He’s trying to see the marks. With a glance towards Jeno, you carefully slide the fabric of your turtle neck down, laughing silently at how Jaemin inhales sharply, lips parting slightly. You yank it back up when Jeno turns around. “Jaemin informed you of the experiment, correct?” You shoot Jaemin a look. “Yeah! You just need to take a couple of blood samples, right?” Jeno shakes his head, tilting his head at Jaemin. “Not exactly. We’re going to need you to take microdoses of vampire blood.”

It takes a moment to register. “You want me to drink vampire blood?” You screech, eyes bulging. “That’s going to turn me!” Jeno shakes his head, laughing. “With the amount we’re giving you? No. It’ll only turn you if a vampire drinks your blood, and you die. You’ll be fine.” Next to you, Jaemin stiffens. You bite your lip. “Um. Like at the same time, or?” “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time. If you’ve been bitten before, you can’t drink any blood or you’ll be turned. But again, that’s only if you die.” Jeno tilts his head. “Have you been bitten before?” “Jeno.” Jaemin draws his attention away before you can respond. “It’s just a microdose, right? Like, barely enough to have an effect?” He considers this. “Well, I mean, not enough to have negative effects.” 

You and Jaemin share a long look. Jaemin had drunk your blood not even a week earlier. It's dangerous. But it’s a small amount. Jeno said there wouldn’t be any negative effects. And you can’t fail this class. You send Jaemin a pleading look. Jaemin swallows thickly and looks back to Jeno.

“She’ll be fine?” Jaemin’s voice is shaky. 

Jeno nods. “Caring for a human? That’s odd, coming from you. But yeah, she’ll be fine.”

You exhale heavily. “I’ll do it.”

There are more papers to be signed, more blood to be drawn. Though this time Jeno takes it in a much more professional manner, drawing it out and putting it into a test tube. Next to you, Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut and you watch his jaw clench. You want to tease him but you can’t, not in front of Jeno.

Despite Jeno’s reassurances, the worry doesn’t leave you. He doesn’t know what you and Jaemin did, doesn’t know that you’ve been bitten by a vampire. And maybe it doesn’t matter- it’s not like you’re going to die or anything, which is what needs to happen for you to turn- but you need some sort of comfort. 

That’s how you end up bailing on your Friday night dinner with Mark’s family, saying that you need to finish a project that’s due that night. Your parents roll their eyes and scold you for not taking your studies seriously, but let you skip the dinner. Mark shakes his head at you, disapproving of you working with a vampire, but keeps his mouth shut. 

If Jaemin’s surprised when you show up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He just smirks at you, leaning against the door frame. “Hey blood bag.” You scoff and shove past him into the house, dropping down onto the sofa you sat on last time. “When did you start calling me that, leech?”

“When you let me drink from you.” Jaemin says plainly, sitting next to you. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but-” “But we didn’t tell Jeno you drank from me.” You interrupt. “We need to tell him. He’s been waiting forever for this, he’ll be devastated if we ruin it.”

Jaemin nods, considering it. “Y/n, you know you’ll get kicked off the project if we tell him, right?” You nod, biting your lip. “Look, Jeno’s been my best friend for hundreds of years. I hate keeping this from him more than you do.” “Then why are you?” It doesn’t make sense. You’re certainly not friends, or at least you weren’t before last week. 

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are dark and it looks like there’s a war raging behind them, but he doesn’t elaborate on what’s bothering him. The sharp points of his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bites it nervously, blood beading at the cut when he finally looks back at you.

You don’t think when you bring your thumb up to swipe at his lower lip, skin coming away red. Jaemin watches in fascination as you bring the digit up to your own mouth, sliding it past your lips, sucking the blood away. He swallows thickly.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” You ask, glancing from his lips to his face. He shakes his head gently.

“It feels good for you because of our saliva.” Jaemin explains. “But it doesn’t feel bad when you do it, it’s just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand as if trying to pull the words out of thin air. “It’s very intimate.”

He licks his lips, then, digs his teeth back into his bottom lip. It’s a subconscious movement but you still lean in to press a kiss over where the blood pricks up, nipping just hard enough to have a growl rumbling in Jaemin’s chest before soothing the wound with your tongue. You pull away and smile, licking the blood off of your lips. 

You don’t even have time to make a witty remark over how affected Jaemin looks because he’s pulling you onto his lap, crashing your lips together with enough force that you’re sure they’ll bruise. It draws a moan from you and Jaemin eagerly drinks it in, fisting his hand in your hair and deepening the kiss. 

A gasp leaves you when he pulls away, trails his lips down your throat. You tense in anticipation, a whine getting trapped in your throat when his fangs just barely scrape the skin. He leaves a wet kiss there, pulling away to look up at you. “Want me to bite you, baby?”

“God, yeah.” You moan out, tilting your head to expose more of your neck. 

“Ah, I’d rather you didn’t say that name in my house.” Jaemin laughs. He moves back to your throat, digging his fangs into the spot he’d marked. There’s less pain this time, pleasure coursing through you almost instantly. You whine and tighten your grip on his hair.

Electricity runs through your veins as Jaemin takes what he wants, marking up your body. You breathe out something along the lines of “want more” and Jaemin takes it to heart, scooping you up and carrying you to his room in record time. He tosses you onto the mattress, crawling over you not even a second later to press his lips to yours. 

He fits himself easily between your legs, rocking his hips down in a rare show of desperation. You can feel exactly how affected he is, his hardness pressing deliciously against your core. Another plea of “more” is whispered against his lips and he doesn’t need any more encouragement, pulling away to move further down your body. He kisses and nips his way down your torso, pushing your shirt up to reveal more skin to him, dropping kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants. Your core throbs at the feeling of having him so close to you and you squirm, trying to spread your legs more, trying to articulate that you need something, anything. 

“J-Jaemin, take them off.” You whine, pushing at the waistband. “I need you.”

The coldness of his hands brushing against your skin when he drags your pants down has you shivering, squirming. He tosses your clothing to the floor and wastes no time attaching his lips to the inside of your thigh, holding you down when you squirm. 

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks, concern mixing with his arousal. He brushes his index finger over your pussy, making your back arch in an effort to get him closer to where you need him. 

“More than.” Despite your assurances, Jaemin doesn’t touch you. He moves his hand up to your abdomen, flattening his palm to keep you pinned down. You whine in annoyance, but the teeth dragging over your inner thigh has you shutting up. A gasp leaves you before he even sinks his fangs in, your pussy absolutely throbbing with need. He presses another gentle kiss to the skin and, raising his gaze to make eye contact with you, bites you.

It’s more intense than when he bit your neck or your chest. It sets your body on fire in the best of ways, leaves you writhing under his touch. Your eyes roll in your head and your hands flail in an effort to grab something, anything to ground yourself. It’s amazing, and just when you think you’ve reached heaven, he touches you.

You’re soaking wet and Jaemin’s fingers slide into you effortlessly, fill you up so well. It’s too much effort to keep your eyes open and so you let them drift shut, let yourself fall into the bliss. There’s pressure against your lips and you open your eyes to find Jaemin hovering over you, sliding two fingers past your lips. You didn’t even realize he’d stopped biting you.

“Suck.” He commands, and who are you to disobey? You wrap your lips around the digits and hum at the taste of yourself, at the weight of them in your mouth. “Taste good, baby?” “Mhmm, yeah.” Your words are slurred around the digits and you suck even harder around them, letting your tongue trace patterns around them. Jaemin swears softly and grinds down against your thigh. 

He presses one more kiss to your lips before sliding down your body. “My turn to taste.”

Maybe there should be some sort of alarm going through your system when Jaemin lowers his mouth to your core. Some sort of reminder that he has some very sharp fangs, that he has just bit you in multiple places, and that his fangs are right in the place that fangs should never be. But it feels heavenly when he licks a stripe between your folds, when he fucks his tongue into your hole. His hands keep you pinned to the mattress, super strength coming in handy to control your squirming. 

The pleasure consumes you and it’s so much, too much, and your eyes want to squeeze shut but Jaemin looks up at you and his gaze is magnetic, making it impossible to look away from him. Your body’s on fire, burning brighter with every flick of his tongue, every moan he lets out into your core. He pulls away to drop his head to the apex of your thigh, digging his fangs into the delicate skin there, and you can’t fight the scream that rips from your throat. You’re babbling, chanting incoherent words as you try to explain how good it feels, how you never want him to stop. His hair is soft in your grip and it’s the only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing preventing you from drowning in pleasure. 

“You taste so good, baby.” Jaemin moans, pulling away momentarily to make a show of licking his lips. “Everything about you is so delicious.” He returns to your core, lapping at your hole before flicking his tongue over your clit, laughing at how your body jolts. There’s nothing but hunger in his eyes as he sucks your clit between his lips, fucking two fingers into your needy cunt. He does it again, hitting all of your sensitive spots, making you scream with bliss as you finally tip over the edge. 

Wave after wave of euphoria crash into you and your lungs burn as your gasp for air. You’re drowning in the best way possible, surrounded by nothing but pleasure and Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

He works you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, hands smoothing over your thighs to bring you back down. You manage to find enough strength to shove at his head when it gets to be too much, tiredly sinking into the mattress when he pulls away. Jaemin wipes at his mouth and bends down to kiss you lazily, nipping at your lip just to hear you whine. He smooths your hair down and brushes a few strands out of your face, smiling down at how fucked out you are. And you’d be content to lay wrapped in his arms, with Jaemin cooing softly at how pretty you are and petting your head, but you can feel how hard he is.

“Jaemin,” You murmur, shifting in his hold. “Jaem, wanna make you feel good.” “It’s alright, you don’t h- oh, shit baby- you don’t have to.” He has to fight to get the words out, a groan interrupting his sentence when you grab at his cock. You pout at him and manage to tug his pants down just enough for you to pull him out. 

“But I want to.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss. Jaemin doesn’t bother replying, just presses his lips back to yours and melts into your touch. The way you jerk him off is lazy, your energy drained from how intense your orgasm was. Though with the way Jaemin groans against your lips and tightens his grip on your hip, you don’t think that he minds.

He moans your name when he comes, a beautiful sound that has your stomach twisting with heat. White spills over your knuckles and onto his stomach and you bring your hand up to your mouth, licking at it curiously. Jaemin watches you with heavy lids before collapsing onto the mattress. 

“Fuck,” He sighs, eyelids drifting shut. “Why’re you so good to me?” “Why are you so good to me?” You mumble back in response, curling up into him. “Thanks for not biting my pussy.” Something  about that sets Jaemin off and his body shakes with the laughter running through him. A giggle leaves you. “What?” Jaemin shakes his head, still laughing. “Nothing. Come on, gotta get you some food.” 

And that’s how it goes. You and Jaemin continue to hook up, although he does end up saying ‘fuck it’ and attempting to actually teach you chemistry. Despite Mark’s fears, he doesn’t end up killing you. He’s a lot of fun to be around, plus he keeps his pantry stocked with various snacks. Sometimes he even cooks for you, if he’s feeling nice.

“What’s a vampire doing with all this food?” You ask one day, watching him make fried rice. He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the pan and offering you a shrug, though you swear you see him blush. 

Your professor raises your grade to a C. It’s not stellar but it also isn’t failing, which you will happily take. There’s only a little bit of guilt when she beams at you while telling you how happy Jeno is with your dedication to the project. 

Jeno continues to take blood samples, and you continue to not tell him that you’ve been bitten. It eats you up inside, but Jaemin’s always there to reassure you. Whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself more is up for debate.

Everything stays the same except for Mark.

He gets more distant, grows a little more resentful. There’s no smiles or teasing jokes, except for the polite ones he flashes in front of your parents. He starts to make up lies, too, which is something you promised to never do. Excuses to get him out of plans, saying there’s nothing wrong. And your best friend, the most timid, nicest boy you’ve ever met, begins to pick petty fights with you.

You’re over it, and it bothers you even if you try not to let it show. Jaemin rubs your back and tells you it’ll be okay, but you know it won’t. Because Jaemin’s the reason that Mark’s distant. And you have no plans to stop seeing him.

Talking to Jaemin, you’re sure Mark would have liked him if the circumstances were different. If Mark didn’t hate vampires so much, or if Jaemin were just a regular human college student like you. But those aren’t the circumstances, and so you have to deal with Mark’s whiny ass showing up at your door to drag you to church.

“Mark, it’s Thursday night.” You groan, shaking your textbook at him. “I have work to do!” 

“Yeah, you also have praying to do.” Mark snaps, grabbing the book out of your hands. “Not like you even understand this.”

Which, ouch, that kind of hurts. Especially when Mark knows that you’re frustrated that you can’t get the subject down even though you try. You glare at him and reach for the book. “Mark, give it back. And I actually do understand this, Jaemin’s been helping-” “Helping what? Taint you? Turn you into one of their blood whores?” Mark grabs the book back and throws it across the room. “Y/n, come on. I’m not letting this happen to you too.” He pulls you after him despite your grumbling, though he at least has the decency to let you put shoes on. Just because you go freely doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, complaining as Mark drags you through the city. “Jesus Christ Mark, has it ever occurred to you that Donghyuck had free will? That he willingly chose to be with her because he loved her?” You’re fed up with Mark, fed up with everyone. “God Mark, they’re not that bad!” Mark stares at you for a moment. “What, they’re brainwashing you too? How is it that both you and your brother are so dumb? I know you weren’t raised like this.”

“Well at least I wasn’t raised to be such an ignorant asshole.” You snap. “I have the ability to make my own decisions, something you apparently lack.” “Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark stops walking suddenly, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer. You open your mouth to yell at him when a flash of movement catches your eyes. Squinting, you make out a group of guys, and they’re close enough that you can hear them laughing when one of them wipes… is that blood on his mouth? “Mark, we have to go.” You whisper. The vampires don’t see you and you’re hoping that you can get the two of you out of there safely. “Come on-” “No, tell me what you mean!” Mark yells, stubbornly standing in place. You groan and try to drag him away but he doesn’t budge. “Come on y/n, tell me what you fucking mean.” You shoot a worried glance over your shoulder, surprised when you don’t see the vampires. There’s a second of relief, lasting only until you turn around to find them standing right behind Mark. You squeak in surprise. Mark freezes too, one of the men having grabbed him by the shoulders. His face presses way too close to Mark’s neck and you jump when you feel hands on your own shoulders.

“Aww, lover’s spat?” The guy holding Mark laughs. “That’s okay, we’ve all been there, right guys?” The rest of his friends cackle in the creepiest way that you can imagine. “Come on, we can resolve this.” You and Mark look back and forth between each other worriedly. There’s no way out of this, you realize. No way to even try. 

“Don’t you wanna know how we can resolve this?” This time the guy holding you speaks and it’s so close to your ear that you flinch, nearly jumping out of your skin. He laughs and his fangs graze your skin, but it doesn’t send pleasure through you like when Jaemin does it. It sends chills down your spine, makes you want to cry. “Answer me.” “N-no.” You stutter out, eyes squeezed shut in fear. “Please, just let us go.” The guy sighs and lets go of you. “Alright.” You and Mark share a look before bolting, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Freedom only lasts for a second before you’re being grabbed again, yanked backwards. 

“Stupid girl. I don’t appreciate being told no.” You whimper and you can hear Mark screaming your name, screaming for help, screaming for anything.

It’s the last thing you hear.

“Jaemin, you’re an idiot. Literally the dumbest person I know.” There’s a familiar voice swimming through your head and you try to move towards it, finding your entire body feels drained.

“Yes, I’ve been told.” Is that Jaemin’s voice? It sounds a lot clearer, drags you out of the darkness. “But look, it ended up being good, right? She’s alive.” You finally manage to pry your eyes open and immediately regret it, slamming them shut and curling into yourself. A groan leaves you and the two stop talking. “Y/N? Baby, it’s me.” There’s a hand on your cheek, brushing against the skin gently, and you press into his touch. “How are you feeling?” “Bad.” You croak out through a dry throat, cringing at how dry it feels. Jaemin laughs softly and something presses to your lips. “Here, drink this.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you get the first taste, and then suddenly you find the strength in your body to take gulp after gulp of the drink. It brings a little bit of warmth to your body, makes you feel less achy. You even manage to pry your eyelids open.

Jeno and Jaemin greet you, both men looking relieved. Jaemin beams at you, dipping down for a kiss. “Hey baby.” “What happened?” You frown, trying to remember how you got to Jaemin’s couch. “Did I- I was walking to the church and we were attacked.” Oh shit, you weren’t alone. You search frantically around the room. “Did Mark- is he okay?” The thought of your best friend- no matter how strained your relationship was at the end- dying is too much for you to handle. 

Jaemin smiles. “He’s the one that brought you to me.”

“He’s okay?” Jeno nods in confirmation.

“They only wanted to kill for fun, guess you were enough.” Jeno says. “Speaking of killing, Jaemin has a lot of explaining to do. And since I don’t trust him to do a good job, I’m going to stay here!” You look between the two. “Kill? Am I- I’m dead?” Jaemin makes a face. “Fucking- I’m a vampire?” Your words come out shrill and the two boys cringe.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “My bad. But, um, I’ll take care of you! Don’t worry.” Then, to Jeno: “Come on man, can’t we have a second of peace? I literally never thought I was going to see her again.” Jeno sighs, glaring at his friend before walking away. “Dramatic.” 

You’re in Jaemin’s arms in the next second, held close to his chest. “Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and he keeps his face pressed into your neck. “This is all my fault, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.” “We’ll figure it out later.” You tug at his hair to get him to look you in the eyes. “I almost died, Jaemin. Give me a headache later. Right now…” You trail off, letting your lips stretch wide. “Kiss me.” It draws a snort from Jaemin. “You were dead like an hour ago and now you want to fuck?” “No!” You whine and smack his chest. “I just want a kiss, get your mind out of the gutter.” Jaemin teases you some more, making you laugh and smack him to stop before you finally say fuck it and pull him closer, smashing your lips together. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. You have a lot to worry about, but you’ve also got all the time in the world to worry about it. It makes you sick to think about, and for now, you want to just relax. Not that Jaemin seems to mind, happily letting you curl into his chest, stroking your head. You’re not alone, you have Jaemin, and you know he’ll help you through this.

+ You’re not expecting a welcome home party. You’re also not expecting to find all of your belongings scattered across the front yard, having very clearly been chucked from your bedroom window. 

“Lovely.” You scoff, staring at the mess. The front door has the biggest cross you’ve ever seen nailed to it, complete with the silver door knob that you promptly burn yourself on. You stare at the door, wondering if you should knock. It swings open before you make your mind up.

Mark stares back at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Mark.” You smile, tight lipped. “Jaemin told me you saved me.”

Mark looks like he’s about to say something but then his mouth closes and he shakes his head. “Y/n, you- you’re a vampire now. I can’t.” Mark doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” You mock, shaking your head. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would fucking look me in the eyes.” He doesn’t. “You know it’s your fault I’m like this, right?” That gets him to look up at you. There’s fire in his eyes this time. “No, it’s your fault for whoring around with vampires.” You shake your head. “Who made me go to church that night?” He looks away and doesn’t answer the question. “Good bye, Mark.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct dream fic #jaemin smut #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfiction #jaemin vampire #na jaemin smut #kpop smut #supernatural nct #dream smut #kpop scenario #nct scenario #nct dream scenario #jaemin scenario

[chemicaljacketslut]

i’m bored and stalling writing a boring scene so let me rate reddie (and general) fanfic phrases/tropes

richie sneaking into eddie’s bedroom: 8/10 listen i know it’s overdone but it’s just so GOOD

miscommunication trope: -1000000/10 stop it you’re not shakespeare literally just have them TALK TO EACH OTHER

descriptors in place of names like “the younger male” “the ravenette”: 1/10 listen i know it’s hard to distribute names and pronouns without being repetitive but please i have a personal vendetta against this shit

richie being So Angsty: 6/10 i love projecting onto richie tozier as much as the next guy but at a certain point it’s like. listen. this man has one single braincell and it’s dedicated to loving eddie. he is a standup comedian. he is just not that angsty

using literally any other terms besides Synonym For Rooster/Synonym For Cat: 0/10 (Nickname For Richard is okay IF USED SPARINGLY)

“Oh… oh”: 1000000/10 one italicized word is something that can actually be so personal

college reddie: 10/10 delicious

emo/grunge/whatever richie & pastel eddie: 6/10 i see the appeal i guess and i definitely fell for this when i was younger but it’s just so out of character. bright patterns and zero fashion sense richie & smart sensible fashion eddie ftw. bring back book eddie’s canon gucci loafers

eddie just Showing Up to live with richie post-adult It battle: 9/10 in character and also parallels the richie sneaking into eddie’s bedroom trope

maturin bringing stan/eddie back from the dead: 7/10 listen it’s kind of a write off but like what tf else are you gonna use if you want to abide by the rules of canon

manwhore richie/soft eddie: 5/10 idk bout this one but i do appreciate me a good manwhore

“letting go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding”: 8/10 overused but still such a good way to describe that shit

“pregnant pause”: 7/10 hot take but my favorite part of writing is word choice/sentence structure and the idea of a pause being pregnant bc it’s heavy and there’s something in it not being said, it just works for me

richie & beverly being best friends: 10/10 personally i prefer sticking to the book choice of stan & richie being best friends but thanks to sophia lillis being braver than any us marine and giving beverly a personality in the movies, the richie/beverly best-friendship works so well

crossover fics: 6/10 just not for me personally, i tend to want my characters to stay in their separate universes and not interact with other universes’ characters. fics inspired by other media can be good though

barry-inspired fics: 9/10 this gets its own category because heeheehoohoo i love them so much and i have like 3 unfinished ones in my drafts everyone please write more of these

incorporating current memes: 4/10 it can be funny if you manage to not make it seem to tryhard, but memes age so quickly that this is a risky risky move

chatfics: 2/10 look i’ve come across like one decent chatfic ever, and it was in like 2018, and looking back on it now, all the humor is so stale. they’re just so hard to make believable and they don’t stay good for long because the way people talk to each other on the internet is constantly evolving

using iconic It quotes like “don’t call me Eds,” “you’re braver than you think,” “apple-solutely,” etc: 8/10 as long as you don’t overdo it or make it like PAINFULLY obvious like “hey guys it’s a reference!!! haha they said the thing!! guys did you see that they said the thing they said in the book/movie!!!!!” it’s a nice touch & i personally love doing this lol

songfics: 6/10 another hot take i think but if it’s the kind of songfic that’s either inspired by a song or it’s like bits of fic with the song lyrics dispersed throughout, it can be good

stan being the only sane one in the group: 5/10 i see where people get this from bc stan tries to come off as more serious and he’s very fastidious, but like he was still a kid, too. he has an equal amount of brain cells to the rest of the losers which is one. i prefer writing stan as trying to be the responsible one (or at least trying to come off as the responsible one) but getting into loser shenanigans anyway

that’s all i have off the top of my head suggest more for me to rate if u want

#it #it stephen king #the losers club #stephen king #fanfiction

[vaveyard]

I wasn't here for the other accusations but I did witness the ikea thing! from what I read in the comments, it's not because you dissed it in general, but because you complained about ikea furniture in your "professionally decorated home"

people rightfully pointed out that not everyone can afford designer or expensive furniture + an interior decorator

later you tried to spin it as "his furniture is all black and doesn't match!" when that's not at all the point you originally made, which was that cheap furniture has no place in your home. and people liked that even less (because ppl ain't stupid!)

so yeah, that rubbed lots of people the wrong way and came off as very out of touch and privileged, and your comments as kinda manipulative, when you could have just admitted your mistake and prejudice

many also pointed out that ikea furniture is what holds your books in the rooms of most of your readers, since most of us are broke teenagers lol

so yeah. I think it's better to admit one's errors and prejudices rather then try to spin things after the mistake is done.

for the future keep in mind that most of us are teens who need to save up in order to afford your books. and most of us are smart as hell, so don't try to spin things in our face after a mistake 😂

I get it that to someone with money who lives in a 'professionally decorated' bubble in LA this might seem silly, but for many people it was super unrelatable, and, well... alienating

I use that word because you mentioned feeling alienated, and I get it. but I also think that you (general you, directed at all YA authors) should keep in mind that most of your following is teens, so of course this audience feels sort of alien. especially when you live in such a different way than most of us, and yet try to be relatable... which is just impossible. you feel alienated from us, we feel alienated from you. it is the way it is.

there's also a big power imbalance in the author-readers dynamic, particularly when readers are minors. the author holds the power. they're the professional backed up by an agent and a publisher and hundreds of fans, while teens are, well, teens lol so readers appreciate having spaces were they can just discuss things without fear of being bullied or even stalkee by authors

(which has happened in the past! yikes! for example, for the longest time people were afraid to criticize Cassandra Clare, because even before getting published she was infamous for her cyberbullying people who criticized her fanfictions and called her out for plagiarism! so of course after she got the support of an agent and publisher, people were even more wary! and rightfully so, considering what she did to the few braver ones 🙈)

reader spaces are super important, just like author spaces are super important.

ok this was far too long, it's kind of ridiculous. I just wanted to give you some context as to why people have issues with that video lol

Will address the Ikea thing at the end, but I just want to say I so appreciate this response and your explanation regarding the reader/author dynamic. I agree, there are spaces for readers and spaces for authors. It is difficult for me to realize that I am not on the same level and I can't interact in the same way. That while I still relate to these people and very much still remember my teenage self, the reversal is not true.

This is also, completely separate from a long overdue conversation about the way creatives are treated Online. Social media sometimes feels like a bloodsport.

As for the Ikea tiktok, thank you for explaining. I really wasn't trying to spin anything (his furniture is the wrong color, style, falling apart, and quite literally from college - I know because I was there) but I see how that could feel less than genuine to the audience. And I am very sorry for alienating readers with that carelessness. I am a big fan of Ikea and actively won't go to protect my wallet, but that's neither here nor there.

I truly appreciate the good faith nature of this ask more than anything!!

#ask

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Continuation of an angsty dark fic request. 

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt (I made myself real sad with this one so be warned if you’re vulnerable to negative thinking), NSFW, smut (gender-neutral), unhealthy relationship, depression, neurodivergent reader. Melancholy rambling. 

3,200 words

“Don’t worry about what Dr. Chilton thinks,” Nurse Clerval advised as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but”—you tugged the hem of your scrubs—“He’s right. I keep messing up. I think he hates me.” You stopped there, too ashamed to admit you were the biggest fuck-up on the entire staff, new or not, or that you could tell Dr. Chilton regretted his decision to hire you.

“And the rest of us hate him. Just keep doing your job, learn the ropes—he’ll back off.”

You nodded silently and continued your rounds, delivering meds and checking in on patients. Amy had to be restrained again when she wouldn’t stop biting. Julianne seemed more confused lately, though you hadn’t known any of them long enough to tell what was normal.

Clerval’s words hung over you. It didn’t seem right that everyone hated Dr. Chilton. He was a little brusque, yes, but intelligent. Wickedly sarcastic. Posturing and puffing himself up whenever people he admired came to visit the hospital, and he wanted badly to impress them. Lonely.

Your cheeks heated at the thought of those intense bursts of green under his brow—the first thing you noticed when he conducted your interview. His eyes almost matched the light green scrubs you wore at the hospital you trained in, though the uniform here was white (as if leaning into the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest vibe.)

But what drew you in wasn’t that his eyes were beautiful—though they were—it was the way they made contact with yours. Staring you down with fake confidence, as if he were forcing it. That stare must have been off-putting to most people, but it made your spirit leap with that particular spark of connection one only feels when finding a kindred spirit.

“Hey! Still sulking? Hurry it up,” Clerval called, jolting you to attention. You trotted after.

It was nice having a mentor on the staff, but at the same time, it just felt like having another person to eventually disappoint.

“Here! What’s next?” you beamed.

***

Dr. Chilton didn’t back off over the next few weeks as Nurse Clerval suggested. The more you thought you were getting the hang of routines at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the more mistakes you seemed to make, and the harder its administrator came down on you. And the more the handsome, scarred Dr. Chilton hated you, the more nervous mistakes you made.

In nursing school, you aced everything technical. Every written test. Every memorized statistic, sterilization procedure, medication instruction, and anatomy diagram. But when it came to interacting with patients and families—being compassionate yet professional—nothing came naturally. As a child, you learned how to fake eye contact by staring at the bridge of someone’s nose. How to smile bright and encourage others so they don’t reject you. So they don’t see you as cold or weird. But sometimes, you felt like an alien just parroting human behavior.

The guy you had been dating when you started working at the BSHCI said something similar to you when he broke it off. That you were “unavailable” and never understood what he needed.

There was a reason your first choice job was at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers.

Dr. Frederick Chilton was the same way. Just better at hiding it, or braver about not caring when his mannerisms rubbed people the wrong way. He didn’t fall apart like you did. He was… incredible. As soon as you met him, you knew you wanted the job. His smile was forced but friendly that first day, and you went home dreaming about getting to know him better.

But as soon as you were hired, the friendliness went out of his eyes. On your very first day, you passed him in the hall and smiled. He frowned and informed you that you were five minutes late clocking in. Everything—every forgotten ID card and typo on a patient file—was proof to Dr. Chilton that you were incompetent.

Worthless.

He even pointed it out when you couldn’t stand up for yourself and let Nurse Clerval defend you.

Pathetic.

Why did you ever think someone like him might like you?

He wasn’t an asshole. The constant reprimanding and disciplinary write-ups were no more than you deserved. It just hurt coming from someone you admired and wished things could be different with.

God, you wished just once he would smile at you again. Tell you that you did a good job.

Your fist hovered over the dark mahogany of the carved doors to Dr. Chilton’s office, poised to knock. To tender your resignation. You hadn’t seen the extravagant interior of his office since your interview, but you could imagine him in there: laying back on the leather couch sipping a Scotch, surrounded by tall shelves of medical books and sculpted wall molding. The air filled with the library smell of old paper.

In your imagination, his cold green eyes would soften, and he would ask why you were leaving. Apologize for being so hard on you. The Chilton in your mind clasped your hand, and you both blushed, wondering if the gesture was merely a show of professional support, or if it held a deeper meaning. He clasped tighter instead of dropping your hand, knowing— understanding—the heat behind your gaze.

A dull thud came from inside the office, followed by footsteps and a muttering voice, muffled through the door. The footsteps started heading your way, and you walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, not looking back when a moment later, the mahogany doors creaked open.

Coward.

There was no point quitting, anyway. You would never find another hospital job as slow-paced, where you rarely had to speak with outsiders—only the regular long-term patient-inmates, and a small staff of orderlies, guards, nurses, and psychiatrists.

Sometimes you thought you should quit nursing altogether, but then what would you do? Flip burgers? You’d be bad at that, too. There was nothing you wouldn’t be a failure at.

A fog hovered over you, creeping its tendrils into every thought, turning every tiny setback into the end of the world, and making every success unimportant. Leaving BSHCI wouldn’t make it better. Nothing would make it better. You were the fuck-up. Anywhere you went, the problem would always be you.

Every smile you gave was forced, but you kept smiling as if everything was normal. So long as nobody could see you drowning, it wasn’t real. There was still hope that you could get your shit together, and no one would be the wiser that you were actually a disgusting piece of human trash. So long as you could smile like you were fine, you weren’t a complete failure.

But the more you pretended to be upbeat—pretended to be someone likable—the more you were certain your coworkers didn’t like you. They must have been sick of covering for you by now.

A week later, the nurse you were replacing grunted, “Finally,” as you sprinted through the door three minutes after your shift started. That one unremarkable interaction was the final proof of a theory you had been nursing for a long time:

Everyone’s lives would be easier without you.

That was the final conclusion, the final, creeping thought the suffocating fog wormed into your head. The crescendo of a distorted symphony that had been subtly building to this from the beginning.

You couldn’t force yourself to smile anymore.

***

You didn’t have authorized access to the medication supply room, but you swiped a key from Dr. Tenley’s office. For a secure facility, the doctors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane were lax about locking their own offices. She would notice it was missing by Monday morning, and there would be serious repercussions for stealing it, but you weren’t concerned. You wouldn’t be around to face them.

With the high-potency drugs available in a hospital and a working knowledge of pharmacology, ending a life could be quick and relatively painless.

The key clicked in the door. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. But the coast was clear.

A halfhearted breath puffed from your nose. Part of you wanted to find it funny how easy this was, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You stealthily opened the windowless metal door, stepped inside, and shut and locked it behind you without making a sound. Once inside the small room, you let out a silent sigh of relief (or despair). Only a handful of people had a key, so you were unlikely to be interrupted, especially at night with only a skeleton staff on duty.

There were three rows of tall storage shelves crammed into the walk-in closet with clean tile in the few places wall was exposed. The whir of a climate-control system drowned out the pulse in your ears as you scanned for the drugs you were looking for.

You found them faster than expected. They could have at least been hidden. The universe could have put a few more obstacles in your path, but instead, the universe was giving you a big fat sign it wanted you dead.

You picked up the packaging. Turned it over in your hand.

Just a handful of these, and all the problems you cause would be over. No more reprimands. No more disappointing everyone you meet. No more wrenching in your gut every time Dr. Chilton looks at you with contempt when you long to see a smile. No more trying so hard every minute of every day.

It wasn’t like too many people would be sad you were gone anyway. Most of them will be relieved.

Your eyes stung.

Wasn’t someone going to walk in and stop you?

Your lip trembled. Why would anyone want to stop you?

Tears rolled down your face as the reality of your plan set in. Survival instinct kicked and clawed at the cloying fog of twisted logic that promised you would be helping everyone if you stopped existing, but it was losing the battle.

And then you heard someone call your name.

You sniffed and looked up. No… not someone calling your name. Moaning it. You crept to the last row of shelves at the back and gasped—Dr. Chilton had his laptop tucked onto a shelf and was watching a clip of security feed on loop. His red, glistening erection thick in his hand as he masturbated, whimpering your name over and over.

You watched silently—he was so engrossed he didn’t notice your shadow falling over the aisle. It was only when the package of drugs slipped from your hand and clattered on the floor that he jumped with a shriek, covering himself, though his massive erection was still conspicuous in his pants. His eyes bugged out at you, face red with embarrassment—but then they quickly narrowed to anger.

“What are you doing in here? You are not authorized to be in this room,” he barked.

All you could think about was what you heard—the name gasping from his lips. It overpowered every other thought. “Were you… imagining me?”

His nostrils flared. He hastily shut the laptop which was looping security footage of you outside his office door.

Then he laughed—forced and cruel. “What I imagine is not your concern. Do not read into it. I have never shown you special treatment, have I? Do you think that I could have feelings for an incompetent nurse?”

“I know that!” Your lip trembled again now that the briefest spark of hope you had was shattered. Of course he didn’t like you. He was just a pervert who jacked off to all the nurses. “Don’t you think I know that I’m worthless? You’ve made it abundantly clear.”

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, and Chilton’s eyes softened, as if for the first time realizing that all his attempts to hurt you had succeeded. You were hurt. And he did not enjoy it as much as he thought.

“You are not worthless,” he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the floor, at the medication you dropped. He picked it up, read what it was. His expression fell. “What were you doing in here, nurse?” he swallowed.

“Nothing. I just… needed something for a patient.”

“Lie,” he said.

You looked away. Everything was numb. It barely even occurred to you that someone stopped you after all. A handsome, awkward, cruel doctor you admired was in the same room with you and had said his first kind words since the day you met.

He took a slow step toward you. Then another. His hand—slender and surprisingly large—pressed your arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture. An alien parroting human behavior.

“You are not worthless. I assure you, none of your mistakes have been grievous. You are certainly not the least competent of my staff. Far from it. So don’t…” He swallowed. “…Do not do anything rash.”

“Sure,” you scoffed. “Then why am I the one you’re always reprimanding? The one always being called to your office?” You knew what he thought of you; he was just trying to talk you down.

“That…” he began in a broken voice, “That must be painfully obvious now.”

Your eyes peeled away from the floor and found his face, and the storm of emotions flashing over it. Shame. Trepidation. A faint light of hope.

“You like me?” Your voice sounded far away. The analytical part of your brain was whirring away above the swamp of depression bogging you down with lies that nobody could like you. But it made sense. As the words spilled from your mouth, it was like a veil lifted.

Pulling pigtails. He was pulling your pigtails because he liked you. A middle-aged psychiatrist ought to have more emotional maturity handling a crush than a third-grader, but there was a reason he worked at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers. There was a reason his staff hated him. Why he was lonely, and why you desperately wanted to be the one to fill the empty space by his side.

Frederick Chilton was a lot like you.

You could understand each other and be less alone in this world, together.

***

His eyes were closed and he was muttering something self-flagellating and vaguely apologetic when the kinetic sense of you moving closer caused Frederick Chilton to look up.

No longer out at arm’s distance, you were within each other’s breathing space. And now, he was genuinely terrified—terrified you were going to return his feelings. Of the joy it might bring crashing down on him like an airplane. He read something he never expected to see in your body language, and it shook him deeper than being walked in on with his cock in his hands.

You should have reported him for ethics violations.

If you made the case to the hospital board that he created a hostile work environment because he wanted you sexually, he would lose his job and do everybody a favor.

But this—the intention in your body—this was the farthest thing from what he deserved. You confirmed his fear when your soft, perfect lips melded against his. Yet, as always when he knew a thing was wrong, he did not push you away. Did nothing to stop you. He let you deepen the kiss slowly, and you were warm, the taste of you sweeter than he imagined in all his lonely nights of fantasizing.

His cock twitched, your closeness awakening his urges again. He moaned as your lips parted, his lips parting with them, and your tongue gently probed inside. You were tentative at first, investigating only the nearest reaches of his inner lips, and then his hand spasmed on your arm, and with a low growl, he pulled your closer—then you became ravenous. All the turbulent emotions churning within you broke free in that kiss. You sobbed into his mouth, your tongue, hot and fervent, explored and assaulted the depths of him, your hands weaving into the hair behind his neck, and he could taste your salt. It was all his tongue could do to keep up—to let himself be consumed.

Dear god, if only that passion would have ended him then and there. The moment your lips met his in an unexpected act of reciprocation was the fulfillment of every want, every tattered and twisted hope—the highest delight a man such as him could achieve. And he knew—rightly so—that all that could follow was suffering of his own design.

Dear god, let me die before I see this in ruins. Let me die with my happiness.

***

The sex wasn’t all that good. But then again, you had gone into that supply closet intending to never come out, so overall, being fucked by the man you had been pining for was a positive turn of events.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Dr. Chilton, pressed against a cold tile wall. A hungry kiss led to his clothed erection pushing against your thigh, led to you unbuckling his belt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered hoarsely, nervous eyes darkened with lust—and you nodded, sliding down your scrub pants, which stuck on your sneakers, hobbling your ankles. He was in too much of a rush to let you take them off—he only opened up his slacks and pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. And then he was thrusting into you from behind—frantic, desperate. Your ankles being bound only added to the thrill of him being in control. Dr. Chilton wanted you after all—fantasized about you—and now he was taking you, and all you had to do was surrender to his desire.

His breathy moans rose with each snap of his hips, his hands traveling up your chest under your shirt, fingers curling around your neck, possessing you. Touching every inch of skin he could get his hands on. And that noise that saved your life, your name on his lips, he chanted in your ear.

He was fast—hips racing as if this were his only chance, and if he waited, you would disappear—and he finished fast. You didn’t spend long with your face pressed to the cold tile when his moans broke into a shattered scream, and his head slumped, sweaty, against your back.

Then he turned you around to face him and got on his knees. Heedless of his own mess that he’d left sticky and bitter inside you, he pumped his fingers into you and sucked like he was fulfilling a duty. Clinical about the task, and efficient. It didn’t take him long to bring your arousal to a climax in his mouth.

After, he was quiet. When you had cleaned up, he looked at you like you were a mistake… only you weren’t certain what kind of mistake. If you reached out to reassure him, would he jerk away and tell you to never speak of this again?

“Was it… all you expected?” you asked robotically. Your arm crossed your body, hugging yourself.

And then he kissed you again, softly. He ran his fingers over your hair and pulled back just far enough to study your face. His eyes were wet, clouded with a million thoughts and regrets you would only learn about later.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Since I went some places this chapter... Please don’t bottle up your feelings if they’re telling you horrible things about yourself. They aren’t true, I promise. You matter. ❤️

Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

Help via Text: https://www.crisistextline.org/ (Text HOME to 741741)

List of additional resources: https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/suicide-resource-guide 

Tags:

@beccabarba​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq 

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #dark fic #angst #This was supposed to be a oneshot! *sobbing* A oneshot!!! #my writing

[ficforce]

Assault On Her Heart

Assault x Female Reader SFW No established timeline New relationship

Y/N carefully finished stitching up the back of Assault’s head, the split skin had luckily been superficial at best and she was grateful his skull was in one piece. The man barely moved during the entire time she was treating him, he didn’t even make a sound of pain once. “It’s incredible you were able to stay conscious and get back here.” His snowy hair was stained with dried blood and once she knotted the thread she grabbed a damp cloth she had brought earlier and started cleaning what she could. Her left hand rested on his shoulder, thumb against his pulse, she liked how strong it was, how his heartbeat so strong, “Would you like me to wash your hair properly?” Y/N’s voice was soft and she started to gently run her fingers through the tangled strands, the man didn’t reply and she dabbed at the blood that had run down his neck. Assault could take a lot of damage without complaint; no one got to be an elite member of the ‘Butchers’ by being ordinary. Torture was their speciality and she knew how dedicated they were to the Evangelist, “Assault…?”

“I lost against little girls… Nuns.” He muttered and Y/N sighed before she walked around to his front, his expression told her just how disgusted he was at himself and Y/N looked away - she hated to see him like this.

Assault was her childhood friend and they’d been born into the White Clad, raised together for this holy mission, to see the Cataclysm succeed this time. He had worked so hard to become the well-respected knight he was, to be as feared by his enemies as he was. It wasn’t his fault that his slightly too sheltered upbringing meant he wasn’t used to seeing an indecent young woman lose her clothes… he had been surprised and they took advantage of it. Y/N was an information gatherer, a spy on the surface, she had seen far more than he had and she had a talent for fitting into any situation. “It just goes to show what kind of people are worshipping a false god.”

Her hands cupped Assaults face and when his yellow eyes met her gaze she gave him a sweet smile, “Next time you’ll destroy them. I know you will.” Y/N couldn’t help wanting to support him, it wasn’t because he had been humiliated or even that he had been hurt - it was a more selfish motive.

She loved him.

She was jealous that some strange woman had flashed Assault and, by some freak accident, forced him to put his hand on her breast. Didn’t that bitch know how long Y/N had dreamed of him touching her like that? How much Y/N wanted Assault to see her as more than a friend. “We’ll make her pay for using such disgusting tactics on you…”

Assault inhaled sharply when he felt heat winding up and around his arms, the smell of his clothes burning and the way her eyes glowed told him she was more furious than she had been letting on. Her ability allowed her to create tentacle-like flames from her back, he was used to her losing control of them sometimes, it was why she could never be a Butcher - she was always so free with her emotions. “You’re burning my clothes.”

Her eyes widened and she pulled her ability back in toward herself, her head lowering at the same time as she mumbled out a short apology. This was usually when he would squeeze her shoulder and ask her to leave, instead, Y/N felt his fingers run through her hair and then his hand cupped her cheek, gently forcing her head up to look at him.  If she had been a little braver she might have been tempted to lean forward and press her lips to his…

“You’re a good friend to me, Y/N.” The words were barely out of his mouth when she felt the sudden overwhelming urge to distance herself, she pushed his hand away from her face and turned her back on him. She could feel the heat rising to her face and she tried to hold back the flames threatening to spill from her back - why did he have to say that? Why did he have to feel that way about her when all she wanted was more? Assault blinked dumbly at her reaction, he wasn’t oblivious to the way she took in a long, shaky breath or the way she had started to hug herself, her fingers screwing up the white material of her uniform. Had he upset her? The man’s head tilted a little to the side as he wondered how to proceed; it would be child’s play to manipulate her into a confession. Had she been a target he could have tortured it out of her. The mere thought of her cut up and bleeding made his stomach churn… “You’re mad at me.” He mumbled it and then made his voice a little stronger, “I won’t be beaten again, Y/N. I’ll train my mind as well as my body - next time I won’t be beaten. I won’t let your faith in me be wasted again.”

He didn’t get it at all and Y/N wanted to hit him. “You’re such an idiot, Assault!” Y/N ran out of his room and kept going until she had found her way further into the tunnels of The Nether; the only place she could lose control of her ability without showing him how weak she really was.

— -

After a month of not seeing even the tail end of Assault’s clothing, Y/N began to worry. He had been training, everyone was talking about it and no one dared try to disturb him whilst he was locked inside his room. Y/N wondered what kind of training he could be doing, it couldn’t have been his ability; he would have needed space for that. He had said he would train his mind… was he meditating? Praying? It was difficult not to just knock on his door and ask. Food was left outside for him and empty trays were taken away, it was a relief to her that he was eating. It had taken her a day or two to calm down and Y/N felt a little embarrassed at the way she had reacted - Assault was far too innocent to know that her words and affection were meant as more than friendly. Her intentions were romantic and he just wasn’t equipped with that kind of skill set.

When Arrow had come to her and explained that Assault had finished his training, Y/N had felt her heart flutter and then her feet were moving faster than she intended, in her excitement, she had grabbed the other woman’s hand and dragged her along. There were a few there already to greet him and Y/N couldn’t help but think he looked the same. “Assault!” His name left her mouth before she could stop herself and when his yellow eyes landed on her she squeezed Arrow’s hand - not realising that she hadn’t yet let go of it. Now that he was looking at her she felt almost silly, “I… well, I was…” they were all looking at her now and the woman shrunk in on herself, her voice getting smaller as she mumbled, “What training… did you do?”

“Desensitisation training.” He walked past the others and came to stand in front of her, tall and proud, just as he had done a month before he lifted her chin to look at him. “It was my lack of experience with the more alluring side of a woman that surprised me last time. I have studied books and videos over and over until it no longer affected me.”

“He’s been studying porn.” Arrow supplied after Y/N’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

Y/N could have incinerated Assault there and then, she could have annihilated him and just walked away muttering about his stupidity. She was utterly speechless and could barely even let out a squeak when Assault proudly marched off to war - vowing to beat the ‘perverted nun’ this time. After he was gone Y/N dragged her palm over her face and looked at Arrow, “We need to get the men out into the real world… this is becoming embarrassing…”

— -

Assault returned - defeated.

It hadn’t come as a surprise to Y/N and she had been on her way to console him when he had appeared out of the blue in front of her, “I… Oh, wow…” With her mouth suddenly try it was hard to say much more than that. She had never seen him in a suit before and the colour of the material was exquisite with his tanned skin.

“I need to experience face to face interaction, all the videos and magazines didn’t prepare me for the real thing. I’m going to an ’Escort Club’.”

That snapped her out of it and the need to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze nearly overwhelmed her, “I’m not sure that’s wise… why not let me go and kill the bitch?” Y/N would gladly do it, some deep, primal need in her would take pleasure in making sure the other woman would never lay a hand on her man. But, Assault wasn’t hers and he was too stubborn to let someone else deal with this problem. “It’s not like I can stop you…so,” Y/N heaved a sigh, “Good luck.”

The escorts hadn’t helped and Y/N had almost wept when she found out he had nearly been arrested for peeping at women’s panties. He seemed to realise the folly of his mission too and Y/N overheard him speaking to one of the others, her heart sinking to her toes when he said that it may have been feelings getting in the way of defeating Tamaki and not that he couldn’t handle lewd acts.

Feelings.

That had felt like a slap in the face and Y/N was devastated. After all the years she had followed and supported him, the things they had shared and the love she harboured for him… One chance encounter with the other woman had won his heart.

What about her? What was wrong with her? Y/N spend a long time in front of the mirror, examining everything from the shape of her eyes to the colour of her skin - picking at every little imperfection in her head until she couldn’t bear her reflection anymore.

— -

Another few weeks passed and Assault was perplexed as to why he hadn’t seen Y/N. He had even searched for her at one point, he had spent time outside her door, listening for signs of life when she hadn’t answered him. She was in there - he could figure that out but not why she was ignoring him. Was it because he had failed to beat Tamaki? Was she that disappointed in his defeat that she couldn’t stand talking to him anymore? It hurt him to think she would hate him now. He missed her by his side, he missed her smiles and her caring nature toward him… he even missed when she would accidentally burn him.

Y/N had always looked at him with admiration and Assault had worked hard to keep her eyes on him, never satisfied until she had his full attention when they were together; it was one of the reasons he would make her look him in the eye so often. Assault knew that he got jealous easily when it came to her, he didn’t mind her friendship with other women and there was little he could do about Charon - the large man used to go to Y/N for tips on dealing with moody teenage girls. He vaguely recalled the anger he had felt when he found out she had given up her purity to a target during a mission. She had failed to get the desired information that way and Assault had taken a little too much pleasure in tearing the man to pieces as he tortured him.

Assault was still mulling over the reasons she had abandoned him when he heard someone knock on his door. It was a little after eleven in the evening and he had been getting ready for bed, assuming it was one of the others he called for them to enter, his eyebrows began to raise when he saw it was the woman he had been thinking of so often but he was a little confused by the way she appeared. “Y/N?”

Did she have an undercover mission?

She had done something with her hair, he wasn’t sure if it was hers or one of her many hairpieces, it was parted into two neat tails and her make up wasn’t anything like he was used to. He immediately recognised the oddly adorable sister uniform from Company One. Yellow eyes followed her legs up from her shoes to the tops of the thigh-high socks, the skirt accentuated her hips and waist in a way her Evangelist uniform didn’t, putting curves where he hadn’t noticed them before and highlighting the ones he already knew she had. He managed to force his gaze up until he could almost meet hers; if she hadn’t have been staring at his floor. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“You like that girl, right?” Her voice was quiet, it lacked some life to it and Assault watched carefully as she made her way over to sit on the edge of his bed. Her hands bunched up the material of the skirt at her thighs and he noted just how tense her shoulders were, almost hunched. Knowing how to read someone for distress or deception made it easy for Assault to realise something was wrong but he didn’t know what exactly.

Did she have a difficult mission ahead? Was she nervous and come to him for encouragement? They had always been able to take before, they were honest with each other and he had always liked that about their relationship.

Her next words made him freeze, “I thought that if I looked like her…then you might like me too…” She sounded so hollow and so small that Assault felt like he was in pain, a kind of pain that he knew would cripple a target in seconds if he could utilise it. Had she chosen to change herself, her identity, for him?

Why?

Why would she do that when he already liked her so much?

“I do like you.” He came to stand in front of her, “I’m not going to sleep with you though.”

Assault had come to realise, through his recent training, that he had been ignorant to many things. Especially when it came to Y/N. He had thought that maybe she was attracted to him, it had taken a long talk with an escort to come to that conclusion. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up talking about Y/N to the stranger but she had laughed at him, told him he was cute and that it was obvious that his ‘friend’ liked him more than he thought… and that he spoke about her with great affection. The only real interaction he had with others, outside of killing and torture, were his relationships within the Order; he had people he disliked and people he enjoyed spending time with, people he respected and even people he feared. He had learned the differences between physical relationships, attraction, affection and pure lust - he had already experienced these things utilised as weapons.

Assault had come to realise he felt a physical attraction to Tamaki. He couldn’t help that he liked her innocent-looking face and her soft warm skin under his palm… Assault shook the thoughts off quickly and sat beside Y/N. She looked close to tears and he reached out to undo the tails in her hair. “I don’t want to be intimate with you when you look like another woman. I don’t want to use you and degrade you like that.”

“Why aren’t I good enough for you, Assault? I loved you first, I would follow you anywhere… am I so unattractive that you don’t even want to touch me?” Y/N asked him quietly, she remained still as his fingers combed through her hair, and even though she knew he didn’t mean it to be, the simple act was kind but she didn’t feel any less humiliated, “I just figured if I looked like her…” His hand slipped from her hair as Y/N got up and started for the door.

Not moving from his position Assault began to speak, he liked when they were frank with each other, he liked when they could just talk, “I’m not good enough for you.” He saw her pause with her hand on the door and got up, walking the short distance to stand behind her and press his palms on the door - it would be impossible for her to open the door with him leaning against it but she could kill him easily. With his chest pressed against her back, he was completely vulnerable to her ability. “I like you, Y/N, as you are. I like you enough that it might be described as love but this is a feeling I have always had for you. Even before I met that nun.”

Y/N felt her heart hammering in her chest, almost hard enough to bruise her ribcage. “Assault…?” She felt herself almost vibrating in anticipation as she felt his breath fan over the back of her neck, his body was warm against hers and the way he boxed her in made her feel both safe and hot all over. “You’re just being nice to me…”

His lips brushed over the back of her neck and she shivered, the barely there touch sending her nervous system wild, “Sex is a meaningless thing; people give it, sell it or use it for gain.” Y/N watched as one of his hands left the wall and disappear from view, she felt it on her hip and let out a whimper, “You’ve used it on missions to gain information, I know you felt nothing for those people but it hurt knowing you were with them, it hurt more when I finally realised what was involved. I consoled myself by telling myself that it was meaningless sex. It must have been hurting you that I was affected by another woman.”

Y/N turned in his hold, looking up at his face and staring into his eyes as they shone a bright white. Her ability manifested itself and the orange tentacles wrapped around his arms, his legs and torso, she wanted to pull him closer, hold onto him so he couldn’t escape her ever again. She wasn’t intending to hurt him. He knew she often sought comfort by wrapping her ability around solid objects, “Next time you come to this room I want you to come as you. Then I’ll take you to bed.”

“You said sex was meaningless.”

“It is. That’s why I will never have meaningless sex with you - I’ll only ever make love to you.” Y/N went to kiss him but Assault pressed his fingers to her lips, his expression serious even as he watched her eyes begin to fill with tears at the thought he was rejecting her despite his words.”Come back as yourself.”

Assault’s lips pressed to the middle of her forehead and Y/N felt a different kind of warmth spread through her, it was small but hopeful and as he gently pushed her out of his room she left with a smile on her lips. He hadn’t told her she couldn’t come back as soon as she’d changed and washed her face so she ran through the corridors as fast as she could.

#assault #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #garth ennis

[cottonfeltgembira]

(same anon as before) omg ur ocs all sound awesome?? big fan of the twins and yuna, i have a soft spot for complicated sibling relationships and 2000sesque fangirls!! i know yuna has nyx as designated bff but if yuna interacted with ur other ocs… how would their relationships be like? i’d love to hear ur thoughts !!!

Hehehehehe fank yew fank yew!! （●＾o＾●） now let's see (=^・・^=)

Yuna and Mnemosyne :

I've established them to both be Yuu's but with a twist, Mnemosyne was not supposed to arrive in twisted wonderland. Yuna was originally chosen but something (or rather someone) had gotten in the way, exchanging Yuna for Mnemosyne instead. Despite this! Yuna's arrival was never cancelled but delayed, she appears somewhere after the events of book 3.

Since Yuna is completely magicless, Mnemosyne takes on an older sibling role to make sure she's okay (knowing how chaotic NRC gets) and for Yuna, Mnemosyne becomes more an idol for her, an idea of what she could if she was stronger and braver.

Mnemosyne is essentially a mirror for Yuna (and his arrival might have something to do with the Grim Chimera vision as only Yuna received the vision and not Mnemosyne) Yuna wishes she could be just as strong and at some point in Chapter 6, feels the need to prove to him she's grown. Mnemosyne entrusts Yuna to take care of NRC in his absence as he and Epel catch onto Rook to help the captured students.

They're overall relationship is a set up if you will, for when chapter 7 arrives and NRC is faced with a more fearsome foe ( a potential overblot Malleus)

Arena and Yuna :

Priss girl meets Nerdy girl twst edition???? Arena couldn't care less but she does since Yuna's taking her spot light from being the only girl in NRC. Arena doesn't like Yuna simply because she's lesser than her while Yuna thinks she's super cool. Though she grows a bit of respect for Yuna when she helps to defeat overblot Vil

Vicus and Yuna :

FINALLY SOMEONE WHOS NOT A JERKHOLE (besides Mnemosyne and Kalim) is essentially Yuna's first impression of him. Genuinely surprised how nice Vicus is but slightly concerned cause "man I'm a bit clumsy myself but uh...isn't he a bit of a clutz??" She's still processing the fact he's Arena's twin brother but they're nothing alike. Vicus in all his simplicity, thinks Yuna is a good friend with a lovely singing voice :]

#twisted wonderland #twst #oc #MC Yuu #mnemosyne vicas #yuna #arena #vicus #the future has already been written 💿 #prayers answered 📖 #anon

[omgrachwrites]

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter One

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly woman.

Warnings: fluffy fluff, the gang being bff’s, Remus being adorable

Words: 1920

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged, I might make a playlist for this series! I love you all very much! xxx

Chapter One

You smiled in slight surprise as you walked into the bright kitchen and you saw your brother, Finn out of bed. He was actually smiling as he poured himself a glass of homemade pumpkin juice, his thick curls bouncing as he moved.

“Good to see that you’re out of bed, kid,” you grinned, ruffling his hair

Finn pouted at you before smiling himself, “I didn’t think that it was such a good idea isolating myself in bed, there’s nothing that I can do about my … problem,” the way he spoke made him sound much older than his eleven years, “and Dumbledore sent an owl to mum, telling her that I’m still allowed to come to Hogwarts.”

You smiled at him proudly as you too poured yourself a glass of iced pumpkin juice, you couldn’t wait to be sitting in the sunshine outside The Leaky Cauldron with your friends, “well, you’re braver than me and of course, Dumbledore would never turn anybody away. You belong at Hogwarts.”

You were pretty surprised that your mum had confided in Dumbledore about your brother’s affliction. She had kept it a well-guarded secret from the rest of the village; she was worried that it would affect her and your dad’s job at the Ministry. They were highly respected Aurors. They were nowhere to be seen at the present moment so you fixed your brother some lunch – a cheese and tomato sandwich with the crusts cut off and you cut the sandwich into triangles, it was the only way that Finn would eat it.

As Finn ate it, he looked at you, “are you going to be on the Quidditch team this year, Y/N?” he asked and you scoffed, sipping your pumpkin juice.

“I don’t think so, I’d love to but my stage fright would never let me, you know that,” you smiled at him cheerfully; you couldn’t feel too down on such a beautiful summer’s day.

Finn pouted at you, his eyes going round, “oh, I thought it would be pretty cool, going to my first Quidditch match and my sister being on the team.”

You grinned at him, he was your biggest supporter and you appreciated that more than anything else. You were saved by replying, for your parents walked out of the living room with a beautiful woman. She was beautiful but she had hard, sharp features, it was her grey eyes that marked her, though they had none of her son’s warmth.

“Ah, Y/N L/N, you definitely grew up in beauty and grace,” she smirked at you; there was no playful glint to it. It was quite menacing to be honest.

“Mrs Black, it’s good to see you,” you lied through gritted teeth; you would never forgive her, not after what she did to Sirius.

It seemed that Mrs Black picked out your lie because her smirk widened, “so, it’s you is it? You were the one who used to pine over my eldest son.”

“A lot has happened since then,” you bit back in a defensive tone, and it was true, a lot had happened since fourth year, that was three long years ago, “I’m going to meet the gang, so I’ll see you later, you little monkey,” you kissed the top of Finn’s head and you bade goodbye to your parents, ignoring Mrs Black.

You walked over to the white marble fireplace and flung your Floo Powder down carelessly, “Diagon Alley!” you shouted clearly and you disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

When you had reached Diagon Alley, you brushed the soot from your summer dress as you carried on towards The Leaky Cauldron. You grinned, shooting a wave at James and Lily who were sitting out in the warm sunshine. Lily’s hair shone like blazing fire in the sun. They had started dating at the end of the previous school year and they were the best couple that you knew.

You walked inside the cool pub – it was alive with many people and there were even creatures such as hags, you also saw some of your Hogwarts schoolmates – and you spotted the tousled hair boy at the bar. You smiled and made your way over to him.

“Hey cutie,” you grinned, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Remus flushed a bright red colour across his scarred cheeks, you loved flirting with Remus but the both of you knew that you would only ever be good friends.

“Hey Y/N,” he grinned as he pulled you into a side hug, “how is your brother doing?”

You smiled, it was so sweet of him to ask, “he’s doing great thank you, and he’s taking it all in his stride. Much braver than I could ever be.”

Remus nodded, “he seems braver than all of us but it’s good that he’s doing well. If I can be of any help, you just let me know.”

You beamed, jumping slightly as you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, “looking as pretty as ever, Y/N,” Sirius said in your ear.

You giggled and turned around to give him a proper hug, it was so weird to see him not wearing his usual leather jacket, “you’re still a flirt I see,” you had once hated his flirtatious behaviour but you had recently realised that it was no use. He was never going to change.

Sirius smirked at you before his warm grey eyes looked at something in the distance, and he whistled beneath his breath, “I’ll catch up with you guys, yeah?” he flounced off without waiting for a reply. You and Remus rolled your eyes and shook your heads fondly before taking the iced Butterbeers outside. Iced Butterbeers sounded like a weird concept but it was surprisingly delicious!

“Hey lovers,” you grinned at James and Lily as you pulled out a chair and sat down, “where’s Wormtail?” you asked.

“He’s still on holiday, I think,” James started, sipping his Butterbeer, gaining a foamy moustache in the process, “he’s been pretty secretive lately, but I suppose it’s only to be expected now that we’re getting older,” he sighed, “where’s Sirius?”

Remus snickered around his glass, “annoying some girl, knowing him.”

Moments later, Sirius came wandering over to the table, slamming a box of chocolates down in the middle of the table before he slumped into the free seat with a glum look on his face, “Marlene rejected me,” he muttered before anybody could ask.

You and Lily exchanged amused glances; the both of you knew exactly why Marlene had rejected him. Though, you did feel sorry for Sirius, he probably hadn’t been rejected by a girl before, and if he had, you couldn’t remember it. You glanced at the box and saw that it was a box of chocolate cauldrons, the ones with the Firewhisky centre. They were both yours and Remus’ favourites.

“Well, how about we share them? It’s not as bad as it seems Sirius, trust me,” he looked up at you, giving you a grateful smile that only served to enhance his handsome features.

Your idea seemed to be a good one as the five of you filled yourselves up with iced Butterbeer and chocolate cauldrons; you all laughed and joked with one another. You all lamented over the fact that this was your last year at Hogwarts and reminisced about years gone by. That afternoon was one of the best in your life. You wished that you could all stay that way forever, young, and seventeen. Though, you knew that summer couldn’t last forever.

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

Sirius tapped his quill against his forehead, almost in an attempt to knock the answers from his head, he did kind of regret not doing it at James’ – he’d been living with his best mate for the past year and he couldn’t be happier. He had wanted to make the most of his last summer of freedom; he had spent the best part of it playing Quidditch with James. Sirius looked outside the compartment window at the rolling hills to distract himself from writing his essay.

The compartment door slid open and Y/N came walking in with a relieved smile as she sat down next to Remus, “everything alright?” Remus asked, not once looking up from his book.

“Yeah, everything is perfect,” she smiled, gazing out of the window.

Sirius sulked as he felt a twinge of jealousy; Y/N had been talking with his younger brother, Regulus. It had looked like she was really confiding in Regulus about something and Sirius just couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t talked to him. She wasn’t even friends with Regulus.

“What were you and Regulus talking about?” he narrowed his eyes at the pretty girl that was sitting opposite him and he ignored Lily’s smirk.

Y/N looked over at him with a mocking grin, “if you must know, your mum came over to my house over the summer to speak to my parents. I thought that Regulus might know why. I would have asked you but I think it’s plainly obvious that you wouldn’t know. I know how much you hate your mum.”

“Oh,” Sirius said lamely, the jealousy disapparated from his body, leaving him feeling pretty stupid.

“Were you jealous, Black?” Y/N smirked, causing Sirius to scowl at her.

“In your dreams, Y/L/N,” he muttered.

Lily laughed at this interaction as she leaned over James to speak to Y/N, “never mind about him, how is Finn feeling about his first year?”

Y/N sighed happily, “oh, he’s so excited, he’s just worried about getting put in Slytherin, I think he’s more worried about my reaction. So, I told him that no matter what happens, it’ll be okay and he’ll always be my little best mate.

“Well, Slughorn was a Slytherin and he’s a nice enough fellow, he didn’t go bad or anything like that,” Lily commented reasonable, causing Y/N to beam and nod at her.

“Everything really will be alright Y/N,” Peter spoke up, taking the words right out of Sirius’ mouth.

“Yeah I know, thank you Pete,” she gave him a pretty smile.

It seemed like all too soon that the six friends were sitting in the magnificent Great Hall as they waited for the sorting ceremony to start. While they were waiting, Y/N engaged Nearly Headless Nick in conversation about his summer. Nick was complaining that his request to join the headless hunt had once again been rejected. Sirius thought that it was very sweet of Y/N to take the time to speak to him. She tried to speak to all of the ghosts, even The Bloody Baron.

The boy’s marauding plans were interrupted by the start of the sorting ceremony; all six of them seemed to be holding their breath when the Sorting Hat was placed on Finn’s little curly head, “Slytherin!” the hat called out, and little Finn looked so nervous as he wandered over to the cheery Slytherin table.

Fury rose in Sirius as Lucius Malfoy looked through the sea of people to smirk at Y/N as Finn sat down next to him, “I’m sorry Y/N.”

She shrugged, smiling at him as Gryffindor gained their newest student, “well, it was definitely the worst case scenario. In a perfect world he’d be a Gryffindor,” she sighed and Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “as long as he doesn’t hang around with Malfoy then I’ll be pretty happy, thank you though,” she giggled and grinned as the sorting ceremony ended and the golden plates were filled with mountains of delicious foods.

--------------------- 

Taglist: open

@approved-by-dentists​

#sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #pads #padfoot #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #sirius black fluff #sirius fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader insert #sirius black x reader insert #reader insert #ben barnes #the marauders #marauders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #lily evans #james potter #jily #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #regulus black

[themonotonysyndrome]

The Holy Quintet in Twisted Wonderland! (all 7 dorms - Part 5)

Our last girl, our favourite Goddess is finally here! Now it’s Madoka’s turn! I apologise for the delay. Work keep piling up, but I needed something to distract me so here we are! 

I also want to give a shout out to @lionheartanotheraccount​ for helping me out by sharing every bit of Madoka Magica info with me. You’re the best, Lion. I hope you know that. 

We have a discord where we gush about TW and discuss about this crossover. Come hang out if you want! 

https://discord.gg/K7bGwKK 

-

Kaname Madoka & the other dorms (except Diasomnia) 

HEARTSLABYUL!

Madoka’s first meeting with Riddle is not through Sayaka’s invitation for the Unbirthday Birthday or through school assignments. Rather, it involves a run a way horse and a basket full of apples. 

While helping Sebek search for a wandering Malleus, she came across Mami who was carrying two baskets full of ripe, shiny red and green apples. Courtesy of Epel, of course. 

Mami explains that once every month, the Felmier would send boxes of apples to Epel and since there was too much for him to eat, Epel often shared them with his dorm mates. 

And so Mami wanted to share a basket with Madoka. Madoka thanked her profusely and they parted ways. As she continues to search for Malleus, Madoka is already thinking of sharing the apples with Lilia and everyone else back at Diasomnia. 

Madoka’s search for Malleus brought her to a garden of beautiful roses. It’s only after she wanders inside for a few minutes that she realises that she’s unfortunately lost in a rose maze! 

Her saviour however, came in a form of a... horse. As in literally. As Madoka wandered deeper into the maze, hoping to find an exit, she heard the trotters of a horse and then a large, black stallion appear behind her. 

As a city girl, Madoka has never seen a horse this close before. Especially one that’s so huge! Honestly, the creature intimidates Madoka even when it tentatively approaches her. 

As both creatures warily observed one another, when the stallion nosed and nudge the basket of apples that Madoka was carrying, she broke out from her stupor. 

“Oh! Is Mr. Horse hungry? Do you want some apples?” Seeing how docile the stallion is, Madoka felt a little braver as she carefully offer a shiny red apple to it. When it started to feed from her hand, she notices that there was a riding saddle neatly strapped on the horse’s back. 

“Do you belong to someone, Mr. Horse?” Madoka wondered out loud as she continues to feed it apples. “I didn’t know that this school has horses! So cool...” Madoka then giggle when the stallion gently brushes its head against Madoka in an affectionate bump. 

It wasn’t long for the two to become friends (no longer intimidated, Madoka petted the stallion’s head and neck, cooing how its such a gentle and good horse while the stallion nip at her ribbons) until a running and panting Riddle appear. 

“Oh! You’re one of Sayaka’s friend.” Riddle didn’t expect Madoka - of all people - to loiter around Heartslabyul’s garden. Or being on her own. Usually Riddle would always see her with someone. 

“I-I’m sorry! I was searching for Draconia-san and I got lost...” 

Riddle sigh. While it was against the rule for someone outside of Heartslabyul to enter the rose maze without an invitation, he can let this slide since Madoka’s presence seem to calm his temperamental horse. 

It surprised Riddle to see how calm and docile his horse is around Madoka. Usually the stallion is very wary of strangers and Riddle had to both coax and discipline the horse for it to accept him as its rider. But here, the stallion is nudging at the petite girl for more petting. Riddle wondered if it’s because of her calm and gentle presence? 

Anyway, Riddle thanked Madoka for finding his horse and despite how Madoka tried to explain that it found her - not the other way around - and personally invited her to the next Unbirthday Party as thanks. 

During the party, Riddle was the one personally attending her. He makes sure that the party has all her favourite treats, teach her how to play their games - he play the part of a host perfectly well! 

Riddle could’ve wept at how kind, gentle and thoughtful Madoka is compare to the chaotic group that is Adeuce + Sayaka. Madoka could only gape like a goldfish when Riddle suddenly clasp her hands and request that she teaches him on how to manage Sayaka better. 

Observing the comedic interaction from the sideline, Trey merely smile widely as he hauls Ace, Deuce and Sayaka by their collars as if they were kittens and onto the empty seats before Riddle could punish them for misbehaving during the Unbirthday Party. 

Trey honestly thinks that Madoka is good for the Dorm Leader. In a way, Madoka understands Riddle. Around her, he completely let his guards down and allow himself to enjoy the world for once. Once, Trey even caught the most precious and adorable moment between those two. They were caring for the pink hedgehogs while he was trimming the rose bushes. Riddle wore a tender expression, even a small smile, and he later laughs over something that Madoka said. Trey decide to leave them in their world after that. 

The next time they met, Trey made sure to share some of his baked goods with her. Seeing her smile lit up from his gift is honestly a lot sweeter than his cookies, in Trey’s opinion. 

When it comes to Cater, Madoka is the littler sister that he always wanted. Always so sweet and would pout against his teasings, you bet that he loves showing her off to his Magicam followers. Seeing her running around the school with her friends oddly remains Cater of the tiny fairies that sweep away with the wind during his childhood. He was blessed enough to catch them dancing in the wind. Perhaps Diasomnia was right to call her a fairy. 

Madoka’s reaction to the 3 Heartslabyul’s seniors are overall positive. She sees the trio something like big brothers. Riddle with his disciplined lifestyle yet soft hidden side, Trey with his welcoming smile and helpful demeanour and Cater with his cheerful smirks and teasing remarks. Although they’re from different dorms, the trio would never fail to greet her should they ever pass by one another and for that, she’s grateful. 

Plus, she seriously appreciates Trey’s study session because school work? Yeah, that’s her mortal enemy. 

When it comes to Ace & Deuce, they’re fun to be around but sometimes they’re too rumbustious for Madoka to handle. Don’t get her wrong, the two boys are wonderful friends! After Sayaka sang praises about Madoka, the duo couldn’t help but look out for her whenever the circumstances show (EX: Being intimidated by the other students). 

Sometimes, Ace come across as too blunt and selfish that made Madoka uncomfortable and that would signal Deuce to punch him. Then cue the two brawling and Madoka, in the sideline feeling horribly guilty. For Ace, he thinks that Madoka is too tender-hearted for his taste; especially for a vilains’ school. He doesn’t say it out loud, but Ace believes that a school like RSA would suit Madoka. Still, he tries to hold his tongue around her. The last thing he needs is Sayaka and Riddle coming after his ass for making Madoka cry. 

Deuce likes Madoka ‘cause he gets to better himself at being a gentleman around her. He makes sure to always be mindful of himself and offer her help by carrying her books, showing her where certain classes are and etc. Madoka appreciate the gestures and always works hard to return the favour. She offers him a pair of ears to listen to his trouble, offer honest opinions/advice and practise their magic together. 

All in all, Madoka enjoys spending time with the Heartslabyul gang! They’re a different brand of eccentric from Diasomnia which makes things a lot more fun and unexpected! 

SAVANACLAW! 

Madoka was officially introduced to the Savanaclaw gang through Ruggie and some NPCs. 

She had just finished with PE and was on her way back to Diasomnia to freshen up and maybe catch up with Sebek to go over their homeworks for the day. As she was passing by the field, she saw a group of Savanaclaw students arguing amongst themselves. Since she didn’t know any of them, Madoka was about to leave when Ruggie - who is mitigating the peace between the group - spotted her and immediately called out to Madoka. 

His sudden shout startle the poor girl and before she realises it, Ruggie already jogs up towards her. Seeing the cautious stance and timid greeting, Ruggie made sure to present himself as friendly as possible. He recalls from Kyouko that this one is the shy type. A herbivore, Leona would call her.  

So Ruggie made sure to appear as harmless as possible and gives her a sincere smile. 

“Hey there! I’m Ruggie Bucchi! You’re one of Kyouko-chan’s friend, right? Do you know where she is right now? I tried calling her phone but she didn’t pick up.” 

“U-Umm, I didn’t see Sakura-san at all today, actually. Sorry...” 

Ruggie sigh. He thanked Madoka nonetheless and that’s when one of the NPCs suddenly shouted that it’s not fair if Kyouko is in the other team for the practise. And that spark an argument. 

Ruggie just rolled his eyes at their bickering and explain to a confused Madoka that the two teams are facing off one another in a simple game. It’s a game where they need to shoot their magic at flying discs. It requires accuracy and stern hold of one’s magic. But because one team is short of a member and wanted Kyouko on their side, they started arguing and Ruggie had to held them back. 

In a momentary burst of bravery and curiosity (because honestly, that sounds like a fun game to Madoka), she shyly asks if she can join in too. The boys immediately stop bickering and turn to stare at her. Even Ruggie’s eyes were bugged wide. 

One of the boys scoffed harshly and was about to say something scathing but was immediately silenced when Ruggie signal someone to punch him before he could regret it. Ruggie is well aware that Madoka is beloved by the entirety of Diasomnia. He doesn’t even want to think what would happen if they make her cry. 

“You want to join our game? Sure! You’re in your PE uniform anyway. You can be on their team and I’ll be in the other. Both teams have an equal number of people now.”

So Madoka dutifully follow Ruggie from behind, unknowing that Ruggie glare hard at the NPCs and silently promise punishment if they ever brought up the rivalry that Savanaclaw has with Diasomnia. Even though Ruggie is not a Vice Dorm Leader, the NPCs adhere to his command since he’s their Dorm Leader’s right-hand man. 

Madoka quickly introduce herself and after a round of gruff exchange of pleasantry, Ruggie went over the rules and how the game works once more so that Madoka is clear. 

Madoka and her team watch as Ruggie and his team go first. They managed to get a lot of good hits and score mad points. Ruggie score the most for his team because he manages to hit the discs that was the farthest. 

Then it was Madoka’s turn. The guys draw out their Magic Pens and Madoka summon her pink bow. The moment the whistle is blown, everyone starts shooting. Ruggie and his team gape when Madoka manages to destroy the discs that was the farthest rapidly without missing a single hit! 

In the end, Madoka’s team won. Her teammates were so happy that they cheer and hoist her up on their shoulders. 

Meeting and getting to know Madoka was an eye opener for Ruggie. He could understand now why she was sorted into Diasomnia despite her timid nature. Everytime she pulls back the bowstring and unleash a stream of pink energy, Ruggie could feel that there some serious firepower in it. Like she purposely fire off weak blasts to shoot at the discs.

To Madoka, Ruggie is a good senpai, if a little callous and mischevious. Kyouko told them that out all the boys here, she could relate more to Ruggie than anyone else. From that, Madoka guessed that the two of them shared similar past but she refrain from poking into someone else’s business.

Leona, however, boy does this guy intimidate the hell out of Madoka! 

Leona heard of the game that Madoka joined and thought nothing of it. If Kyouko could punch someone and send them crashing straight through walls, it’s only safe to assume that the other girls are just as strong. However, because he kept catching Madoka saddle close to her friends and would lower her head slightly when talking to anyone that wasn’t them, it’s hard for him to view her anything but a herbivore despite living in Diasomnia with that overgrown lizard. 

The two meet in the green house. Madoka was tasked by Divus to collect some herbs and flowers for their class and as a mean to help her identify and learn more about alchemy materials more. Unfortunately, even with a book in hand to guide her, Madoka is still unfamiliar with the plants. 

When she spotted someone sleeping on a bench nearby, she was at first instantly drawn towards his kitty ears. Her hands already itching to pet them! Her second instinct is to ask him for help find the plants that the teacher requested. She’s unable to decide. 

Leona could sense someone is standing close to him and so reluctantly, he crack open one bleary eye. He could only sigh when he sees Diasomnia’s resident fairy acting so skittish at him. So gruffly, he asks, “What is it?” 

Madoka hesitantly explain that she needs help finding some of the plants in her book. The green house is so huge and she doesn’t have a lot time before her Alchemy class is over. 

Now, normally Leona would just scoff, roll over and go back to sleep, but something in Madoka’s pleading eyes makes him feel like the scum of Twisted Wonderland if he doesn’t help her out. Is this her Unique Magic? And so with a very much put out sigh, he got up and reluctantly told her to follow him. He knows where the flowers and herbs are around this place. When she thanked him profusely, Leona brush it off in embarrassment. Just... please stop it with the sparkles. 

Leona ended up teaching her how to identity the ingredients better. See here in the book about this particular flower? It’s unique because it gives different scent to different people. The matured ones would gives of the smell of your favourite food so pick those. This goes on until Madoka gathered all she needs with enough time to spare! 

Once again, Madoka thanked the Dorm Leader profusely in which Leona grumpily reply that the only reason he helped her out is so that she would know the herbs a lot more and won’t disturb him again. His prickly demeanour didn’t put her off though. 

To Leona, Madoka is the human embodiment of sunshine and rainbows. Sometime when she chases after him to wish him a good morning, Leona mentally wonder if he should buy a pair of sunglasses because her beaming smiles are blinding. Ruggie could only snicker quietly when Leona tried to feed the girl some half-baked excuse about catching his classes just so he could escape her rays. She’s a good girl, definitely, and less troublesome to boot despite being a Diasomnia member so Leona doesn’t mind her.  

Little did he know that Madoka is working hard to worm into his good side so he would let her pet his ears and maybe let her brush his amazing mane. Oh well, it doesn’t hurt him if he doesn’t know it! 

Madoka had already met Jack because of Kyouko. These two get along well due to their even-temper personalities. 

Jack appreciate that Madoka is working hard to improve herself as a person and her magic and would often offer to be training buddies so he could look out for her in case she ever overwork herself. Despite her gentle disposition, Jack wouldn’t treat Madoka as if she’s made of glass. He knows that being kindness does not equal to weakness. He has a feeling that when push come to shoves, Madoka wouldn’t hesitate to bite in self-defend. 

Bonus point: Jack lets her pet his ears and tail after she did a good workout session. It’s a good enough motivation for her! 

Usually Madoka is not too fond of physical workout but with Jack, every training session is fun. She feels so comfortable with him after some time that she would sit on his back whenever Jack does push up. Outside of their training sessions, these two mantained a good relationship and would often hang out with Kyouko and the rest of the first-year squad without problem.  

OCTAVINELLE! 

Among all the girls, Azul would soon learn that Madoka is the scariest.  

Azul and Madoka would only officially meet when Azul needed to be save from himself. For now, they only briefly exchange glances from one another. 

Madoka would be walking with Sayaka and Silver, talking and there across the courtyard would be Azul and the Leech Twins in their own world. When their eyes met accidentally (Azul turns away from Floyd in annoyance when the taller student tried to nibble on his cheek playfully), both of their eyes widen in surprise. 

Madoka saw something in Azul. Something painfully familiar and to Azul, at that brief moment, he felt like Madoka saw through him. It send shivers up his spine while Madoka’s heart would constrict in pain. The spell is only broken only when their respective friends bring them back to the present. 

It was only a brief moment, but both Azul and Madoka felt uncomfortable. 

After that strange interaction, Azul would contemplate in the dead of the night when he couldn’t sleep whether or not to stay away from Madoka or confront of her. He couldn’t help but feel that Madoka saw the ugly side of him that the desperately kept hidden. The small boy that wouldn’t stop crying just because he was different from the rest. From that single glance, Madoka manages to unearthed that boy. 

Azul hated this feeling. 

As for Madoka, when she stared at Azul that morning, she could see herself reflected in his eyes. More specifically, the helplessness that she always struggle with. Becoming a Magical Girl doesn’t change that. And she wonders, if his affable and put-together demeanour are similar to her need to always help out her friends. 

This puts her in a pinch as well. Should she try to approach him despite her friends’ warnings about the Dorm Leader of Octavinelle and the Leech brothers?   

In the end, the two of them gave each other a wide berth and the next time they met in campus, neither of them would even look at the other. Too caught up in their own struggles to know what to do about the other. 

Jade, ever the observant one, would definitely noticed how strangely indiffierent Azul is to Madoka. After all, weren’t their plan is to learn more about these otherworldly girls? So he would be intrigue as to why Madoka had rubbed Azul the wrong way when they didn’t even talk to the girl yet! 

Because of Azul’s indifference, Jade decide to merely observe Madoka from afar. For now. He’ll figure out this strange puzzle soon enough, he’s confident about it.

Floyd thinks that Madoka is like an axolotl. So cute! So tiny! So pink! Oh, he just want to squeeze the living shit out of her! Unfortunately, his enthusiasm appear very threatening to the girls. I mean, they don’t mind the usual hugs, but all of their warning alarms go haywire the moment they spot Floyd running to Madoka. 

Picture this scenario in your head. You’re minding your business, talking to your friend and then a 191CM boy suddenly run towards you, smiling widely so you can see his row of ridiculously sharp teeth and his arms wide open towards you. Now, can you actually figured out at that moment whether he wants to hug you or kill you? 

That’s Madoka dilemma right about now. 

As Madoka’s poor mind was racing whether to run or not and Lilia - who is with her - just smile at the incoming eel boy, Madoka immediately gape and Lilia’s eyes shine with mirth when a yellow ribbon suddenly shoots out from nowhere, wrap itself around Floyd’s ankle and yank viciously. He trips and falls face first onto the ground and he was then instantly hoist up onto one of the main lamp post. He was left confused and dangling in the air, but only for a moment. He grins menacingly when Mami and Kyouko (she has her spear ready) are looking up at him. The two saw him running and since he’s probably in one of his squeezing moods, Kyouko offer to help him blow off some steam. Needless to say that they definitely distracted him from Madoka as they fight right there and then. 

“Ah, youth. It never fail to bring joy into these old bones.” Lilia sigh happily as he and Madoka, as well as the wandering students, spectate Kyouko and Floyd’s battle. Mami already went away for her next class. 

“Floyd-san is... scary.” Madoka couldn’t help but admit with a shiver. Why does he always want to chase after her!? 

Poor, Madoka. Someone needs to tell Floyd that his usual way of making friends scare the absolute shit out of her. 

SCARABIA! 

It was a surprise not only to Madoka, but to the rest of the girls as well, that Homura willingly approach her to introduce Kalim. 

It was a sight to behold when the stoic Homura came forward to introduce a beaming and chatty Kalim to her. 

Needless to say that Kalim immediately set her at ease. By the end of the day, these two become fast friends. Expect her to join the tutoring sessions between Kalim and Jamil. 

Madoka absolutely adore how vivacious Kalim is. They relate to another so much - both are kind and love their friends. Kalim would coax Madoka into trying new things/experiences and in a way, these little things would unknowingly make her braver bit by bit. Especially after he brought her on a Magic Carpet ride to see the sunset.

Sometimes, when Madoka is feeling a bit insecure about her position as a Magical girl, the first person she would seek out to is Kalim. These two would often have heart-to-heart talks without their friends knowing. Only to the other, would they put down their smiles and cry. 

When Madoka would visit Scarabia to see her friends, Kalim make sure to roll out the red carpet for her. The first time was a bit overwhelming for the poor girl, but after realising that it’s just Kalim’s nature and love for parties, Madoka surprisingly roll with it. Jamil was ready to restrain Kalim but seeing that Madoka enjoyed it, he just sighs and let these two cheerful idiots be. 

Kalim finds that Madoka is super cute and fun! Her shy demeanour makes him want to help her come out of her shell. His attempts at throwing parties for her, going on Magic Carpet rides actually helps. It surprises him and everyone else. 

It’s not long before he sees her akin to a little sister. One that he must spoil! 

Like all the other boys in NRC, Jamil will freely agree that yes, Madoka is as cute as a button. But when he realises that Madoka is a more shy and reserve version of Kalim, he’s gonna relate to Homura even more now. He’s very grateful that Madoka is not as reckless as Kalim at least! 

Jamil would treat Madoka courteously, of course. Since Homura often look out for Kalim whenever he’s busy, Jamil would do the same to Madoka to pay her back. He would subtly look out for her from afar though. No need to let Madoka know. 

To Madoka, Jamil is intimidating but a lot less so than Azul. She wonders if it’s because Kalim is always plastered to his side and whatever shenanigans Kalim got himself into, Jamil would be there too.

After hanging with the two boys, Madoka could see that Jamil and Homura shares a lot of common traits, so she treats him the same way she treats Homura. Gentle and with the hopes that they could be even better friends.  

POMEFIORE!

When Mami once told him that one of her friends’ choice weapon is a bow and she’s quite proficient with it - despite what she may tell you otherwise - Rook immediately sets his eyes on Madoka. 

So he ‘observe’ her whenever he could. In less than a week, Rook basically learn more about Madoka than the girl herself. He memorised her routine down to a T, noted down the type of people she prefer to hang out with, knows which class she’s struggling and excel in and etc. 

Basically, Rook stalks her as much as he stalks Leona. 

(Funny enough, when Leona found out about this, it surprises Ruggie that he went out of his way to inform Madoka about it. It confuses her as to why Rook would keep an eye out for her and decided to approach him when she gets the chance). 

Well, that day arrives when Rook came by to fetch Mami after the girls’ training. He arrive just in time to witness Madoka pulling her bow and unleash a strong magical pink arrow at Homura’s shield. The impact was so strong that Homura even skidded behind. 

Rook startle the girls by clapping his hands loudly at such display of power and adorableness! 

He recalls that Vil requested him to fetch Mami, but he just have to show his skills with the bow and arrow off to Diasomnia’s fairy! 

“Ah, lovely mesdemoiselles, forgive me for my rude intrusion, but each and every one of your performance took my breath away. The sheer power and mesmerising beauty that accompanies it - it’s something I’ve never seen before!  

Kyouko exchange a weird glance with Sayaka who just shrugs. “Uh, thanks. I guess?” 

Before the girls could even react, Rook zoomed in front of Madoka, clasping her hands with his, pleading for her to let him bedazzled the fairy with his marksmanship. Behind him, Mami silently mouthed Madoka to indulged him with a small grin on her fond expression. 

So with an unsure smile of her own, Madoka nodded. 

Kyouko and Sayaka bid their goodbyes as they head back to their respective dorms to freshen up while Mami, Madoka and Rook went to the archery field. 

When Rook let his arrows fly, Madoka’s eyes widen in awe. Rook is so proud of himself for being able to impress someone who is also passionate with the bow. Cue Mami suggesting if Madoka would like some archery lesson from Rook. 

Madoka didn’t hesitate to agree. Anything to improve herself as a Magical Girl! 

From that point on, Madoka gradually learn more and more about Rook as much as the Hunter learned about her. The moment Madoka admits that she has a knack for drawing and art, Rook quickly share his passion for the arts as well. Expect for these two to spend their time together drawing and Rook teaching her all sorts of arts that they have here in TW. 

When Epel heard from the other Pomefiore students that Rook is quite smitten with Madoka, he would pull her to the side when they meet and ask if he’s overwhelming her. Rook can be like that at times. Much to his surprise, Madoka couldn’t stop singing praises over how much Rook had taught her in all sorts of things - archery, arts and he even helps her work on her confidence.

Speaking of arts, when Madoka caught Epel delicately carving apples into miniatures figures, she would shyly ask him to teach her. Already thinking of gifting her artworks to her friends and family. She wants to impress her mother with her new skills! 

Like Ace, Epel thinks Madoka is too good to be in NRC. It’s a good thing that the other girls tend to stick close to her and that her dorm is protective of her. In his opinion, it doesn’t matter if she can fight like the rest of the girls. Most of the low-life guys in this school tend to take appearance at face value. Just how they did with him until he introduces his fist into their faces. It felt so good to just go feral! Hmm... maybe he should teach her how to throw a good punch at least. 

As for Madoka, when she was first properly introduce to him, she was about to make a mistake by complimenting how gorgeous Epel is. Fortunately for her, there was a couple guys passing by cat-calling and whistling at him. In a blink of an eye, Epel’s tiny smile turn into a scary scowl and he immediately stated brawling with them. Madoka had no choice but to call a teacher for help. Despite being the one who landed him in detention, Epel is pretty cool with Madoka while the girl made sure to always remember not to say anything about how cute he looks. 

Vil would nod in a passing whenever he sees his rebellious little apple with Madoka sitting quietly in the courtyard, carving apples together. Vil hopes that being around Madoka would calm Epel for once. Completely oblivious to the plans that Epel has for Madoka.  

As the fashion seasons are approaching, Vil invite Mami and the rest of the girls to Pomefiore for some serious discussion. Madoka tilt her head in confusion when Sayaka look stricken when Mami came by with her Dorm Leader’s invitation. 

Sitting on his throne in all his glory and regalia with Rook standing beside his Queen, Madoka felt like she’s in a fancy court and talking to royalty. 

Vil wasted no time. He would like the girls to join him on this season’s fashion show and runway. There are still a few months left before the date and since the girls are no models, it’s a good time to train them. 

When she heard the word ‘fashion’ and ‘runway’ and more specifically, her on the runway, Kyouko already turn around and walk away. Rook however, was quick to intercept her with a wide smile and stated that the girls would be handsomely rewarded if they agreed to it. This was enough to make her hesitant.  

So as Kyouko and Sayaka argued with Rook and Mami is trying to calm things down, Homura crossed her arms and observe quietly when Madoka approached the haughty Dorm Leader. 

“Um, Schoenheit-san, I-I don’t think I can pull it off. I don’t feel too comfortable among a lot of people...” Madoka carefully admits. She likes the idea of wearing pretty clothes, but on a stage where a crowd will judge her? Just thinking about it nearly made her faint! 

Vil readily nodded but not deterred. “Mami informed me of your reserved nature. Under my teaching, I’ll transform you into a diamond that will glitter pink. This I promise you.” When Madoka still look unsure and Homura made moves to use her magic to bring her and Madoka out of Pomefiore, Vil continue, “Not only that, I will teach you how to overcome you timid nature. Aren’t you tired of hiding behind your friends all the time? You have beauty in you, girl. Give yourself the opportunity to bloom.” 

Madoka carefully studied Vil from top to bottom - his looks, posture and the way how he carry himself. However, what attracted her to him the most is his confidence. A confidence that Madoka dream to possess. 

And so she agreed. 

She didn’t complain under Vil’s Spartan training. She did her best to get used to wearing the dresses and clothes that Vil designed for them. She absorb every lessons that Vil and Rook gave to boost her confidence. 

“The moment you’re on the runway Kaname-san, you’re the star. Captivate them and you’ll have them eating from the palm of your hands. That’s quite a heady power once you get a taste of it.” Vil told her on the night before the fashion show. 

Needless to say that Madoka looks up to Vil quite a lot and in return, Vil appreciate all the hard work and efforts she gave to herself and to him that it makes him proud despite her not being his dorm member. He can’t wait to see Madoka bloom into something magnificent. 

Oh, and for those who are wondering, Vil designed a beautiful and elegant white dress with pink petticoat that flows behind her like a pair of wings whenever she walks. She feels strangely... powerful in it. 

IGNIHYDE!

While Madoka was trying to nudge a sleeping Silver awake for his next class, she was surprise that a robot boy suddenly approach her from behind. 

“Oh, hello there! I’m Madoka. Is there anything I can help you?” 

 The robot boy introduces himself as Ortho Shroud and that it was nice to meet with Madoka. She return the sentiment. 

Ortho then explain that she’s been looking for her friend, Homura. His big brother has been trying to call her all day and she’s not picking up any calls or seen her in any of the camera feeds around NRC. 

Now a little concern, Madoka and Ortho manages to roused Silver up. Together, they went around NRC looking for Homura after Silver left for his class. 

As they walk, Ortho continue to explain that since he and his big brother noticed that Homura often hang out with Madoka the most out of all the other girls, it would be better to approach her. Madoka regretfully inform him that she actually hasn’t seen Homura all day. 

Madoka then asked how did Ortho and his big brother managed to befriended Homura. Her friend is not known for being sociable after all. 

Ortho cheerfully explain that Homura went to his big brother for help. They often hang out at their dorm and work on their projects. When Madoka asked about his dorm, Ortho explains that it’s Ignihyde. Their dorm focus on improving magical technology of TW. 

Most of what Ortho try to explain about magitech fly over Madoka’s head but it’s fascinating to hear nonetheless. 

Ortho reminds Madoka of her little brother, Tatsuya. Thinking about him as they talk send a pang of homesickness. Before either of them realise it, Madoka had started crying. 

“Kaname Madoka-san! Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere? My scanner didn’t pick up any injuries on you!” Ortho fretted. 

With a sad smile, Madoka shakes her head as she wipe her tears. “I’m fine Ortho-kun. I just remember Tatsuya-kun. He’s my little brother. I miss him and my family so much.” 

Well that wouldn’t do! Ortho could relate; if he was separate from Idia, he would be just as distraught as Madoka. “Whenever I’m unhappy, I usually talk to my big brother. He always make me feel all better! Kaname Madoka-san, would you like to hang out with my big brother and I? Big brother said that having fun can help when you feel sad.” 

Madoka really doesn’t want to be alone right now. Despite just meeting with Ortho, he’s so sweet and kind to her. She wants to know more about him and his big brother. So after they found Homura who absentmindedly admit that she just return to NRC, the three of them head towards Ignihyde. 

Honestly, Idia is ashamed to admit that he shrieks a little when he open his door to see a beaming Ortho with Madoka and Homura behind her. A guy could use a warning before girls suddenly barge into his room! 

When Ortho explains that Madoka misses her little brother and ask if they could help her feel better by playing games, Idia’s heart melts a little. Besider her, Homura suggest they talk about their latest project some other time. It’s been sometime did she unwind and hang out with the Shroud brothers anyway. (Looks like befriending Kalim made her more incline to spend her time with Idia and Ortho, not that she realised yet.) 

Idia introduces the girls some of his latest games and they indulge in tons of snacks. It didn’t take long for him to relax in their presence and Madoka to cheer up. By the time dinner came around and Lilia texted Madoka to ask about her whereabouts, Madoka sincerely thanked the Shroud brothers with all her heart for helping her feel better. Ortho cheers while Idia stammers in embarrassment as he reply that it was not a problem. 

At first, Madoka thought that Idia is just as shy she was until he explains that being in a crowd makes him anxious and he just didn’t like to mingle with people. Only a selected few. Madoka felt honoured that he feels comfortable around her. After heading back to Diasomnia, she resolve to help Idia feel comfortable outside whenever she can. 

She can’t wait to learn more about Ignihyde and the Shroud brothers. 

Idia share the same sentiment with Leona when it comes to Madoka. The girl is seriously too adorable and blinding for her own good. It was like having a personal sun when she was in his room. Oh well, at least Ortho enjoys hanging out with her, letting her pampered him. He hopes that she’ll be able to reunite her family soon. 

-

And we’re done with the girls’ reaction to the other characters and dorms! Oh, I’m so happy! We’re now moving to Overblots and the dorms arcs! Starting with Sayaka and Riddle~     

#twisted wonderland #puella magi madoka magica #Puella Magi Holy Quintet #Holy Quintet in TW series #crossover

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Seven

It had been two days since she arrived at the Burrow for holiday. 

Within that time Hermione has done her absolute best to avoid the entirety of the family. Well, specifically a certain gangly, freckled git. 

Most hours she didn’t spend reading, the guilt was gnawing at her for being such an awful, unappreciative guest. She’d avoid meals when she could, but in the event she couldn’t evade Molly, Hermione would eat as quickly as she could before excusing herself. 

Ginny, like her mother, was very perceptive and quickly caught onto what was happening. Oftentimes the girl would peel whatever book Hermione had been latching onto away from her hands and practically force her down the steps. And in the event Ginny successfully got Hermione to the living room, she’d just sit idly and watch the family interact, never interjecting herself. 

Harry had stopped by from time to time, thankfully he never pried her from the bed, but surprisingly, he did make her talk. He knew, probably from Ron, of what Harry phrased as her ‘ridiculous’ plan to stay out of his way. When the conversation started turning to anything Ron, or even worse, Lavender related, she’d excuse herself and venture out into the garden. 

And besides the three parties mentioned, no one really bothered her. 

Fred and George did their best to get a laugh from her on the occasion she was downstairs. Mr.Weasley would greet Hermione warmly and ask if she’s heard from her parents. 

She hasn’t. Not since the day after she arrived. They had sent a brief letter informing their daughter that they arrived in France, they loved her, and that they would write soon. Despite their silence, Hermione still wrote them everyday for any answers. 

Bill, Charlie, and Fleur had just taken to small talk, but Hermione usually halted it, never allowing herself to get invested in conversation. Something she’d usually do. 

And as for Ron, well, some nights Hermione swears she hears his loud, familiar steps shuffling outside the door as he whispers with Ginny. But, whenever the door opened, it was just Ginny and Ginny alone. These instances always disappointed Hermione for some silly reason. 

Now, on the night before Christmas Eve, something she dreaded so much knowing she’d be unable to evade Mrs.Weasley’s insistence she join them, she sat in the garden. 

Normally this is where she’d retreat if Ginny or Harry had taken to pestering her from the camp bed she was now seemingly glued to. Or often the contents of her prized book were too heavy, and the fresh air eased her. But tonight, she came out for a different reason. That reason being, the sight of her trunk had begun to make her sick. 

Inside it held hope. Something she had lost months ago. 

When her parents originally agreed to let her stay at the Weasley’s for Christmas (not under the pretense of a possibly dying Arthur), she was ecstatic. Immediately she began searching for the perfect gifts.   

For Molly, she had found a lovely welcome mat with small embroidered stars around the thick lettering. It would look perfect on the front steps. 

For Arthur, a Muggle alarm clock. It was both practical and for him, fascinating. 

She had picked up a broom cleaning kit down in Diagon Alley. Harry was attached to his Firebolt, so Hermione figured he’d appreciate it. In addition, she had a picture printed of him and Sirius from last Christmas. The brunette just hoped she wasn’t over stepping with that one. 

For Ginny she had gone with a few hair clips similar to the ones the ginger told her she liked over the summer. That and of course, a book on the best female quidditch players who ever lived. 

Hermione had been perusing a Muggle shop before coming to the Burrow over the summer, and there were the perfect gifts for the twins. A Muggle joke book along with a bag of whoopee cushions. They were harmless, but would surely keep the pair thoroughly entertained. 

Ron had informed Hermione early on about Charlie, Bill, and Fleur joining them for Christmas, so she was able to pick something up for them. For Charlie, she decided to go with something practical being this would be the first time they would meet. A few bottles of dittany (known to help burns and scratches from Dragons) along with a baby picture of Noberta, was what she had gone with. Bill and Fleur, being newly engaged, Hermione had gone with a joint gift. She had struck gold when she found a brilliant take on the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts shields combined. Something to remind them both of where they came from. 

And as for Ron, well, now she was afraid her original gift may be too personal for where they stood right now. She had gotten the idea from a talk they had back in fourth year, when he was fighting with Harry... 

“Where have you been?” Ron asked Hermione as she entered the common room. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just worried. 

At this, she flushed red, “I was uh, talking to Harry.” At this he made a noise of disgust, “well I wouldn’t exactly call it talking.” 

And for the briefest moment Ron paled, imagining the pair of them snogging. 

“What do you mean?” He barely managed, fumbling over his words. 

“Well,” she blushed again, “I mostly yelled and he well, he just stood there.” Hermione admitted sheepishly. 

“Why’d you yell at Harry?” Not that he was opposed to the action. 

And just like that she’s fired up again. Her hair crackles at the thought, “it’s completely unfair the way he’s treating you Ron! And I’m not going to let him get away with it.” She tutted. 

He stared at her in amazement, “but you told me you didn’t think he put his name in.” He pointed out softly. 

Hermione squirmed, “I don’t think he did, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat you the way he is. I suppose you tried to speak with him Ron and though I think he told you the truth, he didn’t have to be such an-” she paused, “he didn’t have to be so rude about it!” 

“Bloody hell! You were about to swear.” The smile on his face only grew. 

“No I wasn’t!” The brunette quickly defended, “anyway, he doesn’t understand it Ron. You’d think he would, you two are closer than I am to either of you.” Her voice dropped. 

The smile he was wearing soon slipped, “that’s not true Hermione.” If only she knew... 

At this, she remained silent, eyes trained on the fire. 

“What doesn’t he understand?” Ron whispers after a moment. 

Finally, her brown eyes meet his and she sighs, “Ron I know you better than you think I do.” If only he knew...

At this his face scrunched in confusion, imploring her to elaborate. 

“You don’t particularly care if Harry actually put his own name in or not, you just care that he’s making you feel second best.” She whispered, worried he’d react in red hot anger. 

Shocking them both, he merely gulped, “yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He admitted. 

“Oh Ron,” she said sadly, “I don’t know how it feels, being an only child, but you have to know when I think of you, I think of you alone.” Hermione confesses bravely. 

“What do you mean?” He dares to push her for more. 

“I don’t think of how Bill may be a brilliant Curse Breaker, or how Charlie is bravely taming Dragons, I don’t think about how Percy was Head Boy and expect you to want that too. Even the twins, whenever you make me laugh, I don’t compare it to how much they make me laugh. Ginny too, she may be brilliant at Quidditch but that doesn’t make you any worse.” 

He stares at her in shock, she takes this as confusion and goes on. 

“What I mean is Ron, is that you’re you, Ronald Weasley, and I don’t want you to be anyone else. I don’t expect you to be like anyone else, alright? If I wanted to be best friends with any other Weasley I would, but I’m not, amI? Am I even making sense?” She rambles, desperate for him to speak. 

Catching his breath, Ron nods and faces her, “I think I know what you’re trying to say Hermione.” A small smile finds its way across her face, “it’s just hard, when you’ve never had anything of your own, part of you feels like them. Does that sound mental?” 

His mind flashes to all the robes, books, bed sheets, and toys he’s shared with his siblings. 

In Bill’s old shoes, he feels like he has to be braver. 

Whenever he’s reading one of Charlie’s old Charms books, he feels like he has to be daring. 

In Percy’s robes, he has the sudden urge to make sure everyone’s doing what’s right. 

When his Mum gave him a mixture of Fred and George’s old quilts, he felt like he had to make his dormitory laugh whenever he was nestled underneath them.  

Even Ginny, his youngest sister, whenever he shared the family owl with her, Ron felt like his letter had to be an inch longer than hers. 

“It doesn’t sound mental Ron.” She assures, and the look in her eyes conveys nothing but understanding, it warms his heart. 

He huffs quietly, “Harry, I mean, he was my friend, and now, everyone’s gonna go around and want that too. And he’ll probably let them because what am I next to someone like Cedric Diggory?” He admitted. 

“Hey,” her hand fell atop his knee making him look at her with wide eyes, “you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, I wouldn’t trade you for a dozen Cedric Diggory’s.” Hermione gave his knee a small squeeze. 

And the action, the expression on her face, it all felt so sincere. So real. 

Bravely, he grabbed her small hand from where it was resting on his leg and held it snugly. 

“Thank you for yelling at Harry, it must’ve been wicked.” He teased with a light laugh. 

A chuckle moved past her lips, “that’s not exactly the word the first years who watched would use.” She said blushing. 

Ron beamed even more at this, imagining a feisty Hermione scaring away little first years as she took her anger out on the chosen one. 

“Ron, I just wanted to let you know,” she’s looking away, suddenly feeling shy, “that if you’d have me you know, I’m yours. Just yours.” It’s nothing but a whisper, barely heard over the crackling fire. 

The breath leaves his mouth so fast, it’s like a dementor’s kissing him. Quickly, he berates himself for allowing himself to think she means as anything more than friends. He’ll take it anyway. He thinks he’d take anything she has to offer. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, “yeah I’d definitely like that.” 

A grin etches its way across her features as she twines their fingers together. 

They sat like that the rest of the night. Not letting go even when Dean and Seamus eyed them from nearby. 

It wasn’t a grand gesture or declaration of love, but it was the start to the possibility of something more. And as Hermione spent the remainder of her night holding his hand as they talked in hushed whispers, Ron realized she could’ve been anywhere else. But instead, she was here. 

And for the first time in Ron Weasley’s life, he felt like the first choice. 

When recalling that night on the common room couch, something always stands out in Hermione’s brilliant mind. 

The fact that Ron said he’d never had anything that felt like his own. So with that in mind and the ever growing feelings the witch had blossomed for him, Hermione decided on something bold. 

It wasn’t exactly an ‘I love you’, but it was personal to him, and if he had cared that much about her to read into it, well he might figure out how important to her he really is. The fact that she’s cataloged just about every interaction they’ve had in the past six years. 

Wanting to convey as much without spelling it out, she had found a lovely oak whittled Wizarding Chess set. And in the box that held it, she had gotten ‘Property of Ron Weasley’ carved on the top. 

She’d even preemptively written the card: 

‘Something to call yours, Happy Christmas Ron. 

Love, Hermione.’ 

She had signed plenty of letters to him with those four letters, but part of her hoped that the note coupled with the gift may wake something within him. The possibility he feels the same way. 

However, she knows now that isn’t the case. It can’t be. Not when Lavender Brown will be waiting for him when they return to Hogwarts. 

So here she is, out in the garden, the Weasley’s garden no less, her precious book thrown aside, contemplating on whether or not she should give the gift. 

The selfish part of her says no. Hermione tells herself he doesn’t deserve anything from her after how he’s made her feel. 

Her morals scream otherwise. They’re telling her she’s the one who expected anything more than friendship from him and that she’s stupid to get so upset because he didn’t feel the same. 

Weighing her options, Hermione makes the quick choice to just give him the damn thing. One last act of friendship. A goodbye of sorts. 

She closes her eyes in pain, she just wants him happy, even if it kills her. And if that means distancing herself from him, then so be it. 

For the smartest witch of her age, she sure is oblivious to the fact that inside, only meters away, Ron is feeling the exact same way. 

...

“You know I don’t like how she just sits out there. She’s so far away.” Ron comments boldly from his place on the couch. 

“Ronnie, she’s not that far, you can see her from the window.” Fred says. 

“I don’t think he exactly meant physical distance.” Bill commented over the book he was reading, making the room laugh, as Fleur elbowed him harshly. 

He blushes, “shove off! The lot of you, I just mean that things aren’t exactly safe.” He points out. 

Ginny scoffs from the couch, “please Ron, the wards here are almost as tight as the ones at Hogwarts.” She points out. 

Bill speaks again, “yeah, Dumbledore himself helped put them up. He came by here with Mad Eye over the summer while we stayed at Grimmauld place.” 

Ron sighed, “you still don’t know, I mean, look at Charlie. He just waltzed on up.” He defended. Harry seemed to agree, but said nothing. 

“Well to be fair Ronnie, I know exactly where the Burrow is, I reckon You-Know-Who and his followers could care less about where a bunch of pure bloods live.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Technically, we’re blood traitors.” Ron commented. 

They ignored this, “anyway, there is an apparition line, why do you think I walked up from the pond? That’s where it ends.” He reminds. 

“Still it’s rather close and look at Hermione, she’s not far off from the pond at the edge of the garden.” The youngest Weasley boy says peering out the window again, watching as the witch reads that same damned book soundly under a tree. 

The twins began to laugh, “you sound almost as paranoid as Harry over there.” Fred teased causing the dark haired boy to give him a small shove, but a grin played on his lips no less. 

“Ickle Ronniekins just wants his girlfriend inside so she’ll finally talk to him.” George reminded.

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to say something nasty to his brothers, before Bill stopped him, “even if someone did apparate we’d hear it first Ron.” 

“Yeah,” Ginny chimed in, “we heard Charlie the other night.” 

“Exactly.” The eldest Weasley agreed. 

“Ron if you are so worried you could always go out there too, no?” Fleur suggested with raised brows and a mischievous smile. 

At this Bill proudly kissed her cheek as the room erupted in snickers as the blonde joined the fun. 

“Yeah Ickle, listen to the last, why don’t you go sit with her? Unless...” he began knowingly. 

“Unless what Fred?” George asked his twin. 

“Unless little Hermione would rather be taken by death eaters than spend time with Ronniekins.” 

 “That’s not even something to joke about Fred!” Ron boomed angrily, suddenly feeling faint at the idea of the likes of someone like Malfoy’s dad anywhere near Hermione. 

“Alright.” Charlie said standing, “Ron, don’t you have reading to do or something?” He asks his heaving brother who looks like he’s about to pounce on Fred. 

Surely, this calms his breathing, “right, reading.” He says gruffly, quickly exiting the room. 

“Honestly, he’s so sensitive.” George mutters to his brother. 

The room is still tense. No one speaks for a few minutes, and it’s Ginny who breaks the silence. Her eyes are wide as a somewhat amused smile strikes her lips. 

“Wait, did you just say Ron’s reading?”

#ron x hermione #ron and hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #ron weasley #hermione granger #sixth year #hp fanfic #hp #romione fanfic #romione

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 15.5

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures.

Chapter 15.5 summary: You take your kitten over to meet Archie and Douxie gets a little jealous. Fluffy!!

A/n: I don’t know why, but I always picture Douxie living at the bookstore??? My sister does too and that's just how I wrote it. Also for the name I went with Mao because I fell in love with it, but thank you so much for the other names y'all suggested. They were lovely.

Through your tireless search for a name for your kitten you had come across the name Mao. It had been around midnight a few days after Jim and everyone had left. You had been searching through the obscure baby name websites when you saw it. It had come up as a similar name to Mai and you had imidietly fallen in love with it. The name just seemed so fitting for your little kitten.

The two of you had really bonded over the past few days and it was nice to have her around. She was very comforting and today she was giving you an excuse to leave your baby ridden house.

After NotEnrique had given the cradle stone to your mom and Strickler they had decided to adopt the kids. Now there were cradles all over your house and you were a little tired of all the crying. However, you did love to see your mom so happy and the babies were very cute.

You placed Mao on a pillow in the passenger seat of your car and you pulled out of your driveway. Today you were taking her to meet Archie. You really hoped they would get along.

You were able to find a parking spot close to the bookstore and you gently placed Mao in your arms. The bell to the bookstore rang your arrival and you heard Douxie call that he would be with you in a minute.

You immediately located Archie sunbathing on a chair. “Hey Arch, I want you to meet someone.”

Archie sat up and looked at the fluff ball sleeping in your arms. “Who’s that?” Archie asked, sniffing Mao.

“This is Mao, she’s a stray that I rescued from the Nyarlagroth. I wanted you to meet her.” You gently woke your kitten up, and she looked around confused. Eventually her eyes settled on Archie. She leaned towards him and sniffed a bit before burying herself back into your arms.

“Looks like someone is being shy,” you hummed. Slowly and carefully you turned her so she was facing Archie again.

“Hi little one,” Ariche said, stepping closer to you.

“It’s alright,” you soothed when Mao hesitated to step on the table. She began to slowly but surely gain her confidence though and she put one tiny little paw on the table. Then she put another one on. Now it was just her back paws on you.

You gently stroked her with your other hand and she finally stepped onto the table and hesitantly walked towards Archie, who was standing still so not to scare the kitten.

Mao began to get braver and braver. After she had investigated Archie and deemed him safe, she began to sniff at the rest of the table.

“She’s precious,” Archie mumbled.

“Aww, I’m glad you like her.” You took a seat at one of the chairs and watched as Mao came back to Archie. He nuzzled the kitten and it was so wholesome to watch them interact.

“Oh hey, Y/n,” you heard DOuxie say as he came up behind you.

“Hey Douxie,” you responded, keeping your focus on Mao.

“So, um, did you need anything?” He asked.

“Nope, I just came here to introduce Archie to Mao,” you explained, completely unaware of the jealousy Douxie was beginning to feel.

“Oh, you, uh, picked a name for her?”

“Yep, it took a lot of searching, but I found ‘Mao.’ I just like how soft and smooth the name sounds. I feel like it fits her perfectly!”

“Nuclear,” Douxie said, taking a seat across from you. You kept your focus on the two cats. Mao was gently batting at Archie’s tail while the elder cat just watched. You giggled when she swatted at Archie’s tail a little harsher than before.

“Here, maybe you shouldn’t play with his tail, dear.” You pictured butterfly’s they same way Douxie had taught you in Bulgaria and you waved your hand.

Orange butterflies flew around Mao and she began to play with them, Archie occasionally helping her. You were over the moon with joy at seeing them together. You hadn’t been this happy since Jim had left.

Douxie reached his hand out, hesitantly towards Mao and you nodded, giving him the go ahead. His hand was inches away from Mao when she turned and hissed at him, quickly jumping to hide behind Archie.

“Oh,” Douxie pulled his hand away in shock.

“She’s probably just nervous,” you explained.

Douxie was about to say something, but the bell tolled, signaling the arrival of a customer. Douxie sighed and got up. This struck you as odd and you noticed something different in Douxie’s aura.

You didn’t have much time to ponder on it before you were back to focusing on Mao. She almost rolled off the table after a butterfly. You caught her with magic and she glowed orange. She seemed more curious than scared to be floating. She gently kicked her paws as if testing the air. You moved her to the floor and Archie hopped down with her.

“Can I show her around?” Archie asked and you couldn’t remember when you had last seen him this excited.

You nodded. “Of course.”

You gave them their space as they roamed the store. As more people came in you began to get a little nervous, but Archie took her upstairs and you relaxed. Time passed and you just relaxed. You had been really busy of late with all the babies and with Mao, it was nice to just chill. You picked out a book off a shelf and began to browse through it. You had gotten pretty far in the book by the time you felt Mao nuzzle your leg.

“How was your day?” You cooed, picking her up.

“I’m sure she enjoyed it. It was so much fun to meet her,” Archie said, hopping back up onto the table.

“Good.” Mao yawned and you mimicked her. “I think it’s time to be getting home.”

Standing up, you held Mao in one arm while you put the book away with the other. Douxie was helping out the last customer and you were about to follow the young girl out when Douxie called your name.

“Wait!” He called, jumping out from behind the cash register.

“What?” You asked, yawning again, you hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately. “I need to get Mao home.”

Douxie winced. “Er, can’t you stay just a little longer. I haven’t seen you since the Eternal Night.”

“I don’t know Doux, I’m really tired. My mom and Walt-sorry-Strickler, adopted all the changeling babies from the darklands. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately,” you explained.

“Then stay here,” he blurted and you coughed.

“What?”

“I-I mean on the couch,” he clarified, blushing a brilliant shade of pink.

You hesitated, but you realized staying here meant a full night of sleep and you wouldn’t have to drive home while you were so tired.

Douxie seemed to take your hesitation as a no. “I know that you’re busy and I understand that your brother just left, but I...I’ve missed you at the bookstore. You’ve been spending so much time with Mao that I haven’t gotten to see you in a while.”

A realization hit you. “You’re jealous,” you accused, grinning. It was hilarious to your tired mind that he was jealous of a tiny little kitten. You were also very flattered that he cared enough to be jealous.

Douxie looked ready to defend himself, but he decided against it and mumbled, “Maybe.”

“Aww, Douxie’s, I was gonna say yes before your little speech. There’s no way I would pass up an opportunity to sleep through the night.”

“Oh, well then I’ll get you some blankets. I don’t have much food, I have pasta though.”

“I can do something with pasta,” you mumbled, walking up the stairs after Douxie. You went into the apartment and set Mao on the couch and Archie jumped up after her. He cuddled up next to her and you smiled.

You walked into the kitchen and got to work on the pasta. Douxie had some tomatoes and onions so you decided to make some sauce as well.

While you were letting that simmer and boil you helped Douxie make the couch. He went to move Mao, but had woken up. She backed away from him, and you noticed that Douxie looked sad.

“She’ll warm up to you,” you consoled. Exhausted, you plopped down onto it, sitting in the middle. Douxie sat down next to you.

Getting an idea you picked up Moa and scooted closer to Douxie till you were pressed up against him. You carefully set Mao into his lap and for a second she stood there stiffly, but she calmed down as you gently patted her head. Slowly you removed your hand and you had Douxie replace it.  

“She’s really cute,” he said, petting her.

“Thanks I’m glad I was there to save her. Though, neither of us would be there if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You leaned into Douxie. “Me too.”

****

So this was a very fun and fully little thing to write!!! I hope y'all enjoyed it and are excited for more. Also seriously thank you so much for all the support y'all have given this!! Stay safe and have a fantastic day!!!

Also, this chapter was based off of two wonderful requests:

@almachroma's Yet another great chapter! Might I suggest Mao as the kitten's name? And perhaps a fluff chapter of the kitten and Archie? @demon-trees's Maybe for the half chapter douxie getting a bit jealous of the kitten because they getting along with everyone else but him but the kitten slowly starts to warm up to him but its baby steps. For the name maybe ember, Venus or Mars as a tribute to Aja and Krel? Cause you know space theme

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

P.P.S. I'm totally open for requests on fluffy half chapters! If you have any ideas for the half chapters send them in and I'll do my best to include them.

#douxie x reader #douxie #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #trollhunters imagine #toa #tales of arcadia imagine #wizards imagine #toa douxie #douxie imagine #wizards douxie #wizards #hisirdoux casperan #trollhunters #tr #trollhunters douxie #tales of arcadia #tales of arcadia douxie #toa imagine #fire keeper

[recurring-polynya]

For the AU drabbles, can you do Renji ending up in Spirit Society and meeting Tengu!Rukia and Tengu!Byakuya?

I described the bones of this AU in this art post (you should probably read it first).

Given that I did all that work up front, instead of writing something that makes sense, I am going to be very self-indulgent and write this out-of-context Feels Fiesta where Tengu!Rukia doesn’t want Regular!Renji to go home.

Read on ao3 (features the pictures from the first post) or ff.net

🐦     ✨     💔

Rukia staggered over to the library table, carrying far too many rolled-up maps. She attempted to tip the first one gently onto the table, but instead, half a dozen rolled out of her arms. “Watch out!” she yelped helplessly.

The Shinigami Abarai Renji had exceptional reflexes, though, and he deftly scooped his ink stone out of danger as a map rolled past the spot where it had sat just a moment before.

“Sorry,” Rukia apologized, her feathers wilting. She wanted so badly to be a help for once, and instead, she couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing herself.

Renji flashed her one of his brilliant smiles. She wondered if all shinigami smiled so freely. It seemed a strange quality for a god of death to possess, but very little about Renji comported with her conception of what death gods should be like. The Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo smiled often as well. Rukia had assumed that might be due to his human half, but perhaps ushering souls to the afterlife was not such a grim occupation as one might expect.

“Don’t worry,” Renji reassured her, the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkling. “I am a champion ink-spiller, so I’m pretty good at avoiding it. Thanks for digging these out for me. Were you able to find any that show the old kitsune trade route you mentioned?”

“I’ll have to check,” Rukia sighed. “I’m afraid they weren’t very well organized. My brother’s servant, Wakame Ambassador--”

Renji made a face like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“You must not make fun of Wakame Ambassador!” Rukia warned in a hushed voice. “He is just a magical construct, but he does have feelings!” She frowned at the maps. “It’s not his fault Brother didn’t put a whole lot of brains in him.”

“I would never,” Renji reassured her gently, “make fun of Wakame Ambassador.” He fiddled with his brush. “He just… reminds me of something from back home.”

Rukia knew she should get to work looking for the map he wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. She was so curious about his Soul Society, and he was so close-mouthed about it. “Do you miss it?”

“Hmm?”

“Soul Society,” she said, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Do you miss it?”

“Oh,” Renji replied. “A little. I haven’t really been gone that long, and I do want to help you folks out. I am starting to get these little pangs, though.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t’ve expected to get one over Wakame Ambassador.”

“They must miss you,” Rukia pressed. “You’re a very important person, there, right?”

Renji let out a sharp guffaw. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “But you said the captain you serve is a powerful clan head and a great warrior! Aren’t you the leader of his armies?”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “I guess you could say I have an important job, that’s true. It’s not quite the same as being an important person.”

It made no sense, in Rukia’s opinion. She had never seen swordwork to match his, and then he knew shinigami magic as well. He spoke so knowledgeably of strategy and tactics, he must be a scholar of warfare. Yet, he interacted so easily with the tengu troops. He was a natural leader in the way she wasn’t. Not that Brother would ever let her lead troops into battle in any case. “You know,” she started slowly. “Brother is very impressed with you.”

Renji raised one skeptical eyebrow.

“He is!” Rukia insisted. “And… if you are not appreciated in your homeland, I think that Brother would be most happy to have you stay! He would make you his war leader, I am sure of it!”

A very strange look came over Renji’s face. Rukia found herself talking faster and faster, as if her words could outpace his doubts.

“Demons notwithstanding, the Spirit Society is a wonderful place to live, and the tengu are the best of its tribes. I know you would feel self-conscious to not have a set of handsome wings or magnificent horns, but you have such interesting barring on your skin and your plumage is a lovely color. You would be very popular nonetheless!”

“Plumage?” Renji echoed blankly, his hand going to his hair.

“The costumes you and Kurosaki Ichigo fashioned were very clever. They would not fool another tengu, of course, but…” Rukia trailed off, unable to put into words the way her heart had sped up when she had seen him wearing the dark pinions and red-tipped horns of a tengu warrior. Of course, if he had been born a tengu, she was sure he would not have such common coloring. She could imagine him with a fine set of double wings, like her brother’s, blood red, tipped in black, and with great curling horns, like the woodcuts of the mighty warriors in her history books. “Or maybe there’s a spell that could grow you wings!” she realized suddenly. “I am very good at magic, you know, I could look through my spellbooks.”

Suddenly, his big, warm hand with its funny, blunt fingernails encased her own. “Rukia,” he cut her off. “Thank you. That’s a very generous offer, and believe me, I’m flattered.”

Rukia looked into his face. With its sharp nose and narrow, beady eyes, it was so clear that he belonged among her beautiful bird tribe, not a bunch of boring, ugly ghosts. It was unfair. “But?”

He shrugged. “But I gotta go home.”

There was a long silence. “Why?”

“Well, I got my friends, my squad, my captain. People who depend on me.”

“People who care for you?”

“Er, right.”

He hesitated. If he hadn’t hesitated, Rukia would have held her tongue. But it seemed, in that hesitation, there was a chance, and she felt like she had to take it. “There… there could be people here who would care for you, given time. Maybe there are already.” She took a deep breath. “I would like you to stay.”

A deeply pained look came over his face.

Rukia’s gut plummeted. It had been a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I should not have said anything.”

Renji’s face hardened. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and his hand tightened on hers so hard it hurt a little. “It’s not easy to put yourself out there, but you’ve always been braver than me.”

Rukia frowned. What could he possibly mean by that?

“It’s really hard for me to say this. You have no idea how hard. I like you, too, you know. I like you so much. But there’s… my heart’s already spoken for, Rukia. It has been for a long time. She’s… she’s a lot like you. Tough and clever and beautiful and the best friend you can imagine. And that’s part of why it could never be fair to you if I… if you and I...”

Of course. Of course he already had someone, how could she have been so foolish? But why hadn’t he mentioned this before? And why did his voice crack so when he spoke of her? “She does not return your love,” Rukia realized, the words escaping her mouth before she could catch them.

Rukia expected Renji’s face to look even more pained, but instead, his brow softened and his mouth curved into a fond smile. “I dunno, actually. It’s… it’s never been the right time or the right place. We’ve been through a lot together, though, her and me, and I know that she’d miss me if I didn’t come back.” He snorted ruefully. “I’d give every kan I got to hear Ichigo try to explain to her why I didn’t, though.”

Suddenly, a number of things he had said clicked together in her head. And it had not been wishful thinking, she realized. His smile truly was brighter for her, his gaze softer.

“It’s the other me, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Renji’s face stiffened, and then he sighed. “Of course it is. I can’t manage to keep stuff from you in any world, it seems.”

“I met her once, you know,” Rukia noted coolly, despite the turmoil in her chest. “The last time Kurosaki Ichigo was here.” She paused. “She did not seem a fool.”

Renji laughed, and patted her hand boisterously. The tension between them released like steam from a kettle. “Believe me, she’d have to be, to put up with me after all the grief I give her.”

Rukia regarded him under lidded eyes as she reached for one of the maps. “You already told me that she resembles me. Do not pretend she does not pay you back four-fold.

Renji regarded her right back. “I won’t.”

Rukia’s heart felt tender and achy, but warm, as well. The other Rukia must love him back, she was sure of it, even if she couldn’t say so. The alternative was too sad to bear. “I wonder,” she sighed, “why there is no version of you in this world.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Renji replied. “There probably is. He’s just not a tengu. You folks are way too elegant and clean-cut for the likes of me. It’s an honest miracle I ever met my Rukia in the first place.”

Rukia gaped. “Surely not! You are a noble warrior! Strong and handsome and polite!”

Renji gave out a bark of laughter. “That’s only because I’ve spent a long time trying to get this way. You got any nue in Spirit Society? Or ookami?” He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure I’m even classy enough to be a wolf spirit. Inugami?”

“We have all of those,” Rukia replied, bristling. But the dog demons are not to be trusted! Brother says they are barely better than the kitsune!”

“Mmm,” Renji replied with a shrug. “Right. Well. Like I said. Never the right time. Never the right place.” He turned back to the war record he’d been looking through.

Rukia’s face fell. She felt like she had failed him, somehow. Was it something about her brother? He could be a bit… insular to be sure, but the inugami were the very worst of the… dog... Rukia blinked and she traced a finger over the map in front of her. “The inugami are not the only dog tribe. Here, on the other side of the mountain. It’s hainu territory, which is why Brother doesn’t want to travel through it, but it has to be safer than that old kitsune trail. The hainu are an honorable people, if a bit unsophisticated, and they, too, would be affected if the demons were to swarm the valley. If they allied with us, I am sure we could fight off Grimmjow’s forces! You are a genius, Abarai Renji!”

“Me? What did I--?”

Rukia jumped to her feet. “Come. Brother won’t like it, but I am sure he will listen to you!”

“Why would you think that?!” Renji yelped as she hauled him from the library. Suddenly his eyebrows drew together. “Wait, this actually isn’t a bad idea. Do you think it would work? Have you ever actually met a hainu?”

“Well, no,” Rukia admitted. “But at least they have wings, how bad could they be?”

🐕     🤝    🐦

A/N: Okay, I know you asked for Byakuya, who… did not appear in the previous scene. So here’s Byakuya omake. A Byak-omake, if you will.

“What do you mean, the other me does not adorn himself with beautiful feathers?”

“Well, you’ve got a whole bird motif goin’ on, he’s not much of a bird guy. I mean, he likes birds. I guess. He just doesn’t dress like one.”

“How does he accessorize, then? Does he have a lush cloak of fine velvet?”

“Er… he’s got a haori?”

“Ah! Is it richly embroidered?”

“It’s got a six on the back.”

“A six.”

“Yeah, like the number six.”

“...”

“He said he’s thinking of adding some tassels? Gold tassels?”

“Gold tassels are good. How many?”

“He wasn’t specific at the time, but I’m guessing… two?”

“...Two?”

“Isn’t two enough? It’s two more than anyone else has.”

“...Two?!”

“...”

“Wakame Ambassador! Fetch my traveling cape and headdress! I must travel to the Soul Society to teach my other self how to dress properly!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #spirit society #i worked so hard to avoid actually referring to the nominal 'plot' #and then i had to end it #and i was like 'ah i'll just loop it back into the plot' #the 'plot' #that definitely exists #riiiiiiiiiight #anyway i'm in love with hainu now #they are DOGGIES with WINGS #what if renji were a DOGGIE DEMON with WINGS? #(and no shirt) #rukia would simply die

[theazkabandreamer]

Hide and Seek

This is a revised edition of a story I had written a while back.

Can also be read here.

___

Scorpius always wanted to go to London ever since he had read about the capital in his history books; It was a city so rich in history and he was entranced by it.

He had begged his parents to take him to London but for some reason, his father was reluctant to go.

But finally, he was going. His father said that he had business to do at Gringotts Bank and Scorpius had asked Draco if he could go with him. Scorpius's mother suggested that they make it a day out together.

Scorpius asked if they could visit Muggle London as well much to his mother's delight, so the Malfoys ended up visiting the many famous landmarks of London where Astoria took many photographs of a beaming Scorpius standing in front of them.

Scorpius noted, however, that his father looked uneasy when they were out in Muggle London. He supposed that it was because of all of the Muggle cars and busses and the city was heaving with people, many of them taking photos.

Draco looked a lot calmer once they reached the Leakey Cauldron and they went out to the courtyard at the back of the pub where he took out his wand and tapped one of the bricks with it.

Scorpius got a shock when the bricks parted revealing to Scorpius for the first time in his life; Diagon Alley.

He had seen many photographs of the famous street, but that didn't prepare him for the hustle and bustle of many witches and wizards going about their business.

He wished he could stop and watch it all but his father was in a hurry and didn't have time to look at the shops. Astoria mentioned getting something at the Apothecary and his father said he needed to get to Gringotts.

___

Scorpius never forgot the moment he saw the snowy building; It towered above all other buildings in Diagon Alley and he let out a cry of wonder.

"It is rather majestic, isn't it Scorpius?" Draco said, putting a hand on Scorpius's shoulder.

"Is it true that there are Dragons inside the bank?" Scorpius asked eagerly and Draco hesitated, a peculiar look on his face.

"There used to be," he said slowly. "But not anymore."

"Oh, okay," Scorpius said, feeling slightly disappointed. "It would've been nice to see a dragon though because I've read so much about them in that book that Mum got me for Christmas. Do you think that Gringotts had Hungarian Horntails guarding the vaults? Because they're the most vicious dragons. Sometimes I think-"

"Listen, Scorpius," Draco said, cutting Scorpius off. "We're not going down to our vault. I have some business to do at one of the counters. You are not to wander off whilst we're in there. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay, daddy," Scorpius said happily and Draco smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

As Draco and Scorpius got closer to the snowy building, Scorpius saw two smartly dressed creatures standing by the entrance. He had read about them and froze, staring at them in wonder.

One of the creatures noticed him staring at them and gave him a sharp look which took Scorpius by surprise. He hid behind his father's leg and poked his head out to look at the creature.

"Daddy?" Scorpius asked, tugging at Draco's cloak. "Are they who I think they are?"

"Yes, Scorpius," Draco said gently. "Goblins. They're the ones who look after our gold."

Scorpius continued to stare at the Goblin from behind Draco's legs and the Goblin nodded at Scorpius and gave him a small smile. Scorpius returned the smile with a brilliant beam which took the Goblin by surprise.

He felt a lot braver as he entered the bank. Draco ushered him through two pairs of doors and once inside, Scorpius let out another cry of wonder.

He was greeted by a big hall that was full of tables and counters. There were more Goblins behind the counters and they were seeing to various wizards and witches and Scorpius saw a Goblin lead several wizards down a torch-lit passageway.

Scorpius followed Draco down the hall and he wished he had eyes in the back of his head; Everywhere he turned, there was gold being counted and various jewels being examined.

They passed a counter where a scraggy, ginger-haired man was arguing with a Goblin.

"We are very good at identifying Leprechaun Gold, Fletcher," the Goblin said smartly. "We don't like being made fools of."

Draco and Scorpius stopped to look at the man. Scorpius didn't like the look of him; There was a strange, smoky smell hanging about the man that made Scorpius wrinkle his nose.

"Wait a minute, I can explain," the man called Fletcher said hastily. "It was that old mucker Warty. See, I meant to give 'im the Leprechaun Gold and you the ordinary gold. 'e must've taken the wrong gold. You know I would never lie to you."

"Then how do you explain the incident the other month when you claimed to have in your possession a suit of Goblin made armour?" the Goblin asked swiftly.

"It was Goblin made," Fletcher said. "I've even got a Goblin made teaspoon. It's been in me family for years and I've stirred me tea with it for as long as I can remember. I hate to let it go, but a big pot of gold might help drown me sorrows away."

Fletcher took a grubby teaspoon out of his pocket and put it on the counter. The Goblin picked it up and examined it with its long fingers.

"Do you take me for a fool?" the Goblin asked sharply. "I know Goblin made Silverware when I see it and this 'spoon' was not made by any Goblin I know."

"Maybe you don't get out much," Fletcher said.

"You have tried our patience time and time again," the Goblin said. "I have more pressing matters to attend to."

The Goblin pressed a button behind the counter and Fletcher jumped back, drawing his wand.

"Now 'ang on a minute," Fletcher said, waving his wand threateningly at the Goblin. "So a man makes a mistake in identifying a piece of Goblin made Silverware. You can't go kicking 'im out of Gringotts for that. I know my rights."

"I can for wasting my time," the Goblin said swiftly.

"Daddy?" Scorpius whispered, giving Draco's cloak a gentle tug. "What's happening?"

"Just someone trying to trick a Goblin, Scorpius," Draco said gently. "It's best not to watch."

Draco moved to block Scorpius's view of the counter as four human security guards burst out of a torch-lit passageway.

Scorpius heard curses being shouted and saw the four security guards carrying Fletcher out of the bank. Fletcher was stiff and not moving at all.

"Daddy, I think he's dead," Scorpius said worriedly.

"It's okay, Scorpius," Draco said comfortingly. "It was only the full body bind curse. I remember using that at School."

Scorpius felt shaken, but Draco put a comforting hand on his shoulder and kneeled so that his face was level with Scorpius's.

"Never try to deceive a Goblin, Scorpius," Draco said. "They are smart creatures and only fools would get on their bad side. Treat them with respect, and you will go a long way."

Scorpius nodded, although he still felt a little bit shaken after seeing the man called Fletcher being carried out of the bank.

"Such important advice for a first time visitor," the Goblin said, clearly listening in. "You sir, are a fine father."

Draco's cheeks briefly flushed pink and he stood up and approached the Goblin.

"I need to do business with you," he said curtly and the Goblin nodded.

"Of course," the Goblin said. "I'm sure that you will be a far better customer than Mundungus Fletcher. He's always coming here trying to cheat us. I regret that I lost my patience with him. Especially in front of your son."

The Goblin gave Scorpius an apologetic look and Scorpius felt braver as he looked up at the Goblin.

"I'm Draco Malfoy and this is my son, Scorpius," Draco said.

"Hello!" Scorpius said brightly, giving the Goblin a big smile and a wave.

"A pleasure," the Goblin said. "I am Kragor. To what do I owe this visit to Gringotts, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco pulled a large bag out of his pocket, along with several rolls of parchment.

"I have several assets that I need put away in the Malfoy vault and there is the matter of the debt that my ancestor, Victivus Malfoy owed back in 1865. I've decided that it's time that we're going to pay the debt back in full."

"You have my complete attention," Kragor said sharply.

Scorpius didn't pay attention to the conversation; He was too busy looking around the hall, watching the various interactions between wizards and Goblins.

He watched coins being counted, emeralds being weighed and observed a group of four Goblins take a large chest down one of the torch-lit passageways. Scorpius saw a couple of large gold coins fall out of it.

If only he could wander off and explore the place properly, but he promised his father that he would stay by his side and he wasn't going to break his promise.

Instead, he watched a family at the counter opposite Scorpius.

A woman with flaming red hair was talking to the Goblin who was presenting a large piece of parchment to a teenage boy with turquoise hair - Scorpius had never seen hair that colour before.

The woman had her hand on the teenage boy's shoulder and would nod every time the Goblin would finish speaking.

Standing apart from them, was a boy the same age as Scorpius.

He had messy jet-black hair, a thin, kind face and even though Scorpius was at a distance, he could still see the boy's bright green eyes that shone like the emeralds that Scorpius saw being weighed.

Scorpius felt as if he should know the boy somehow – he looked oddly familiar – but the excitement of being in Gringotts seemed to drive it from his mind.

The boy was also looking around the bank and little did Scorpius know, he caught the boy's attention. After he looked to the spot where the boy was standing, he saw that the boy had disappeared.

Scorpius frowned and blinked; Where did the boy go? He looked around for the boy and found his head sticking behind a pillar a few feet away from his mother, grinning at Scorpius.

Scorpius giggled and spotted a man carrying a large chest full of gold. As the boy darted from the pillar, Scorpius used the man with the chest as a cover so that he could hide behind the nearest pillar from his dad.

He looked around the pillar to see the boy looking around confusedly to see where Scorpius had gone.

Scorpius stuck a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, however, he felt a pair of eyes on him and he looked up to see the boy grinning at him again.

They darted from pillar to pillar and Scorpius noted that this was the first time that he was able to play with someone his age and he was having the time of his life. But all things come to an end.

___

At the counter, Draco had finished doing business with Kragor the Goblin and once the ink had dried and they shook hands, Draco was ready.

"Come on, Scorpius," Draco said, beckoning to Scorpius.

Scorpius was hiding behind the nearest pillar and gave the boy an apologetic smile before following Draco.

Draco saw the boy and gave him a shrewd look which the boy faltered under. However, Draco's face softened and he gave the boy a small smile and a curt nod before turning on his heel and striding out of the bank, his black cloak billowing behind him.

"Bye!" Scorpius called to the boy and he ran after Draco.

"It's nice to see you making a friend," Draco said quietly. "Now, let's go find your mother and stop her from buying the Apothecary. You've been very good today. Shall we get an ice cream?"

"I'd love an ice cream, daddy!" Scorpius said excitedly. "Can I have two scoops instead of one? With lots of sauce and sprinkles and a big cherry on the top? Oh, and a wafer! I like wafers because I get to scoop up the ice cream."

"I don't see why not," Draco said. "Because you've been so good for me, I'll take you down to the vault the next time we visit Gringotts."

"Really?" Scorpius asked. "We get to go on the really fast cart? I've always wanted to ride that cart ever since I read about it and it doesn't matter that there aren't any dragons at the bank anymore. I can't wait. Hooray!"

Scorpius beamed up at his father and did a little skip on the spot before looking back at the boy. The boy waved at him and Scorpius waved back, feeling slightly disappointed that he didn't get to ask the boy his name.

___

Al watched the beaming blond boy leave with his father and sighed; It was nice while it lasted. Al had enjoyed it very much. He could hear the boy giggling the entire time that he was playing with him.

He wished he could've talked with the boy instead of playing with him but his mum told him not to wander off and he didn't want to disappoint her.

He would rather be with his mum and Teddy at Gringotts instead of Quality Quidditch Supplies with his dad, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, James, Lily, Rose and Hugo celebrating the Chuddley Cannons recent win.

The endless Quidditch talk was starting to grate on him and if he had to watch his Uncle Ron dancing again, he would probably die of embarrassment on his behalf.

But Gringotts was an interesting place and Al had enjoyed playing with the beaming blonde boy whose sheer joy was infectious even at a distance.

The Goblin at the door might have given him a suspicious look, but his mum ushered him in with the promise that Al wasn't here to rob the place.

He had the feeling that there was something more to the story that Uncle Ron had told them and tried to ask his mum about it, but she was in a rush and Al had to keep quiet.

"Right, that's that then," Ginny said after finishing with the Goblin. "Come on, Al. Let's go meet up with dad, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione."

"Thanks for helping me understand all of this, Ginny," Teddy said, putting three leaflets carefully into his pocket as they left the bank. "It sounded very complicated."

"No trouble at all, Ted," Ginny said, patting Teddy on the arm. "Bill's better at explaining to you the finer details but it's all there in the leaflets."

"You're going to get a bank vault soon, Teddy?" Al asked, walking beside his Godbrother as they made their way down the street.

"Yeah, I can't believe it myself, Al," Teddy chuckled. "I'm soon going to be old enough to manage my own money. I remember it as if it were yesterday when your dad took me to Diagon Alley to get me my first books for Hogwarts."

"Do you have to put gold in your vault, though?" Al asked, kicking at a pebble. "You could put other stuff in there as well."

"Anything you have in mind?" Teddy asked slowly.

"Yeah, sweets," Al said. "James keeps eating them all."

"James will eat anything if it's coated in sugar," Teddy snorted. "You've just got to find a better hiding place."

"But he always finds them wherever I hide them," Al muttered, taking his frustrations out on another pebble.

"You've been well behaved today, Al," Ginny said, ruffling his hair gently. "I would've thought you would've found Gringotts boring."

"Not really," Al said, thinking of the beaming blond boy he had met in there and smiling. "It was quite interesting, actually. Why did you say to the Goblin at the door that I wasn't here to rob the place?"

Ginny seemed lost for words and Teddy caught her eye and turned away quickly, trying not to laugh.

"Well, love," Ginny said slowly. "I don't think I'll be able to explain it in the street."

"Because your dad did rob the place," Teddy said and Al stared at his godbrother.

"What do you mean?" Al asked, frowning.

"It's a long story, Al," Ginny said hastily. "You might want to ask your dad, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione about it."

"And watch them squirm," Teddy muttered. "Anyway, shouldn't we get some lunch? Al can ask them when we're eating."

"Could I get an ice cream?" Al asked suddenly, still thinking of the beaming blond boy.

"Of course you can," Ginny said, ruffling Al's hair again. "And because you've been so good for me, you can have an extra scoop."

"Really?" Al asked and Ginny leaned forward.

"But don't tell James," she whispered.

"Never," Al grinned and Ginny winked before ruffling Al's hair again.

As they walked down the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, Al spotted the beaming blonde boy from Gringotts sitting in an ice cream shop between his parents and eating a large ice cream with sprinkles, sauce, a big cherry on the top and a large wafer.

He was still wearing that big smile and Al caught the boy's eye and waved at him before moving on.

#Scorbus #Scorpius Malfoy #Draco Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Ginny Potter #Teddy Lupin #Gringotts Bank #Goblins #Hp Next Gen #Not Cursed Child Compliant

[ghostsofmemories]

INSECT POISON: UPDATE 3

okay so first things first: I rearranged some things so what was previously chapter 11 is now going to be referred to as chapter 12, which is so long that it’s the only chapter this update will cover! it clocks in around 6.5k after cutting it down with editing. I’m eventually going to split it into two or three different chapters, but because all the events take place in the same day and were meant to be in one chapter, it’s easier to cover them all in one update and not include the chapters that’ve been written since then, all but one of which are pretty short.

content warnings (some of these are pretty heavy): sexual assault, death and cemeteries, possible hallucinations, toxicity/manipulation, instability

anyway, on with the update!

chapter 12 (formerly 11): quivering lip

this chapter surrounds adult Robert’s trip to visit his sister’s grave in the town he grew up while having a mental breakdown, the woman he meets there, and the interaction they have at her house that leaves him feeling even worse than when he started off.

some select excerpts from the beginning:

All this town knew how to do was rot. Robert realized this upon coming back for the first time in years—nothing was beautiful, nothing was alive, and nothing here was worth coming back to visit.

As he made his way through the empty parking lot, going slow in an effort to remember where Ramona’s grave was, he was struck with another bout of feverish anxiety. The baby was going to be his, and all his genes matched his sister’s, even when held up to the light. Would she grow up to look like her namesake, too? Would he have to watch a carbon copy of his dead sister, his greatest secret, grow up and put her hair in braids and ask for help with her math homework? He could already see it. Freckles and deep brown eyes and dark red hair, soft smile from her mother, talkative and hyper. Everything Amanda convinced herself Ramona used to be. He would be raising a eulogy, a little memorial. Ramona Bennett-Blanchard, in loving memory of Ramona Diane Bennett. Robert had force back vomit at the mere thought of it.

not him being totally wrong about what his daughter’s going to be like I’m-

He made sure no one else was around before sitting cross-legged in front of Ramona’s headstone. The feeling of fever left him just enough to give him hope this might help. “It’s been awhile,” he said, snaking his fingers through the grass around him. Dry, yellow, half-dead already. At least the sky was cloudy. The earth here needed some rain. “It’s miserable out here. Cold and stale.” 

There was no reply, of course. The breeze replaced the need for one: skimming the sweat on his forehead and the back of his neck, smoothing him over. He felt like a child, here, thumbing weeds and talking to no one—like a schoolboy being forced to apologize. He made himself smaller, tried to conserve his heat against early November’s faltering autumn. He couldn’t picture himself leaving until his patience ran out, and desperation gifted him with heaps of it.

okay here’s the part where he talks to “Ramona” (she’s either a ghost or a hallucination and you don’t know because neither do I <3)

And there she was. Ragged bangs hanging over thin eyebrows, hair straight greasy and down to her waist, overalls covered in grass stains. Everything about her was juvenile and smelled of stale lake water. She sat on top of her stone, looked straight ahead, as if Robert was irrelevant to her situation. The dead version of Ramona was the same as the old one in looks as well as attitude—she’d been pulled fresh out of a memory, right out of their fifteenth birthday.

“You’re so…” Robert paused, looking up in awe at  his sister, vulnerable as he could manage, tired as he was. “Young. And here.”

“You’re old and here.” She said, looking at him, now. He wasn’t sure why he expected her to look older, or if he’d expected to see her at all, but whatever his expectations were, they’d been slaughtered by her stare—cold and violent. No different than when they were both children and alive.

and oops here have some of the manipulation that made me realize some things in earlier parts of the book need to change:

Robert stood up and walked after her, realizing the ground was seeping and mossy and wet all around them. It hadn’t been before, he was sure of it. As he walked, the landscape meshed itself from dying town to young forest, and he was distracted by it, having to close his eyes when he wanted to speak. “How do you know about my daughter?” Robert asked, his socks getting wet beneath his canvas shoes, not standing well against the moist, newly swamping ground.

“Because I can know anything I want to, as long as you knew it first. I’m a part of you.” Robert stopped walking, and Ramona looked back at him. “You still can’t think about two things at the same time? How old did you say you were?”

“You can’t be a part of me. You’re a ghost. You’re dead.” He said, shutting his eyes again. Shutting his vision out didn’t seem to do anything. The landscape was in his head as much as it was around him. 

“How is that more feasible than me being a part of you?”

“But you said you hadn’t been in my house. You said you weren’t following me.” He kept blinking, waiting for it to be dark just once. He tried putting his hands over his eyes, which seemed to work, but made him feel childish, all of a sudden. He didn’t know what to do with himself, with his body. He had trouble convincing himself he was inside of it at all.

“Like I’ve never lied to you before. Of course I’ve been there. I’m in your head all the time. You didn’t have to come here to talk to me.” Ramona laughed and started walking again. The laugh kicked Robert in the gut. It was old, rotting. He couldn’t be imagining this, could he? That was so her. She seemed almost more vivid than she had when she was alive—she was a memory playing out around him, but everything in it was raw, fresh out of the slaughterhouse. 

a little internal monologue excerpt after ghost-Ramona says something about Robert killing her:

No one, himself included, had ever said it out loud before. He’d spent countless nights as a teenager practicing what he’d say if someone ever accused him, and he’d imagine confessional scenes before he went to sleep, or therapy sessions where he’d admit what he’d done and then disappear and change his name. But it was all in his head, just lips moving with nothing but breath coming out. He couldn’t afford to be overheard by anyone, for even the walls and the ceilings and the mirrors to know what he’d done. When he heard it come from someone else, he became a child caught drawing on the walls. The stages of grief hit one after another, each one knocking the wind out of him, but reaching acceptance was as impossible as catching a bird—he could run and lunge and sneak quietly up behind it, but all the bird had to do was go up.

and that’s that for that scene! now it’s time to meet Agnes! don’t get your hopes up about her :)

“Sir?” 

He jumped awake and stumbled backward. There was a young woman, maybe a teenager, standing a few feet away from him, too nervous to get closer. She wore a brown jacket that went down to her knees, probably belonging to her father or bought for a couple dollars at a thrift store. Her hair reminded him of something that fluttered or floated, cut off at her shoulders and so brown it was nearly black, but swaying around her face at even the slightest breeze or movement.

“Sir, do you need help?” She asked, taking another step toward him. She was braver now that she saw how exhausted he was, how red his eyes were, how he coughed so hard that he nearly fell back on the ground. “It’s cold out here, and it’s been raining for awhile now. I think you’ve been out here for too long.”

“It’s raining?” He asked, and made an attempt at directing his attention to his surroundings, though the woman—or girl—seemed to have an extra dimension in comparison to the things around her, like she was a deer shaking in a forest. More rich. More colorful. Just more. But there was still a graveyard, still grass, the mossy swamp and Ramona were both gone. For some reason, this is what he expected. To become the madman who fell asleep in front of a headstone, who didn’t wake up even when it started raining. “I don’t know you.”

What he meant to say was are you from around here? and then because I’m from here. I used to be from here. And I don’t know you. It was nothing unfamiliar for his mouth to cut off the first half of his sentences.

you guys I promise I did not mean to start feeling bad for this guy and now I have to change his whole backstory to make it make sense someone help me

“I’m Agnes, and I don’t know you, either.” Agnes crouched down to be level with Robert, like she was kneeling over an injured animal or talking a toddler down from a tantrum. He supposed he was both. “Would you like some help?” She stuck her hand out, and when he reached out to take it, his blood, frozen, thawed a bit. Her hand was too warm and gripped his too tightly. 

She hoisted him up, though she was much smaller than him, probably a lot lighter. “What do you need?” She asked, taking a polite step back. Her eyes were level with his throat, but she turned her head up, eyes darting around different parts of his face. His nose. The blood on his lower lip (if prompted, he wouldn’t have known where it came from). His eyelashes, tangled from sleeping face down over his arm but mostly dry when put up next to the rest of him.

Eventually, he and Agnes were in his car. He couldn’t remember, exactly, what conversation had lead them there, but he was almost sure she was afraid to leave him alone, that she had assumed he lived in town, and that he had probably lied about where he was from or where he was headed or why he was at the graveyard in the first place.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked, bouncing her knee, looking up at him from her place in the passenger seat. He remembered how wet he was, that he was probably soaking the car and the seat and that he’d have to clean it all up later. 

He realized, then, that Agnes had too much faith in him. The girl saw a man, most likely older than her, who’d fallen asleep crying at the grave of someone he most likely loved, and decided he was most likely a good person who was grieving, who was most likely unstable in a self-isolating way, in a no one will ever understand way, in a million ways he wasn’t. 

“No,” he said, knowing he had waiting too long to answer and there was nothing else he could say that she would believe. He sighed, tried to remember where he was supposed to be driving. “But I’m sure I will be.”

“I hope so.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” he said, and let his subconscious drive for him. He remembered that he was supposed to be headed to Luther Street, that she lived at the end of it, that he told her he only lived a block away from there and he’d said he’d let her make him a cup of coffee and change his clothes, that they had a tub of her brother’s old clothes that were supposed to go to goodwill that would probably fit him.

“What?” Her eyebrows tied themselves into knots, knitted themselves into something sloppier. “Why not?”

yes I am going to continue oversharing excerpts from this chapter. I spent three months writing it and I think I deserve to indulge

“Because I’ve done a lot of bad things,” he said, and his heartbeat quickened in a way that was unfamiliar. Like someone walked in right after he broke something. “I’ll feel fine, eventually, but I don’t deserve it.” This was not something stated as a way to tear pity from the throat of the small animal beside him, it was a simple fact. This naive girl thought he was something worth saving, trusted him enough to get into his car and let him drive. He was a liar, a murderer, evaded her attempts to learn his name (but would hand it over anyway when she got into his car and saw his nametag from work).

“No one is irredeemable,” she said, looking out the window and making a small noise of understanding, something like huh but only in a hum, her lips never parting. “It’s snowing. It hasn’t snowed since the day before Thanksgiving.”

She was the sort of girl who loved winter, but mostly for the spring that followed. She was the sort of girl who would suffer through the death of everything colorful just for the satisfaction of watching all of it come back to life.

“I am,” he said, and he turned onto Luther, a street of smaller houses, where some of the locals couldn’t afford garbage service and tossed their trash into the back of their trucks until they had the extra cash to bring it to the dump. This was where most the stray cats of the neighborhood called home. 

“What makes you so different?” and then a boney finger pointed to a blue-gray house on the right side of the road, a double wide trailer with a car in the driveway that was hoisted up on a jack. “That one.”

“I guess it’s because I’m still not sorry.”

“I think,” Agnes said, looking at him, though he couldn’t look back for more than a second at a time, trying to find a way to park in Agnes’ slender driveway, “that you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

“You have too much faith,” Robert said, turning the car off. He pulled the key out a little too harshly, and was compelled to look at it, to make sure he hadn’t broken it, but he knew better. The key wasn’t broken, half of it still wedged into the ignition, rendering the car and key useless. To check that his key was still in one piece would only further cement his impression as being crazy.

That’s what Agnes had to have thought. There was nothing else for her to think. There was no other option for men who fell asleep in graveyards, who called themselves bad people with no repentance, who checked to make sure their keys weren’t broken when they turned their cars off. 

“I think I have the right amount.”

don’t get too attached to Agnes btw (spoiler alert: she doesn’t die (a little unfortunate imo)).

She was already frustrated with him, the stranger. Robert, his ID had said. Robert Bennett. Agnes came from a family of helpers and saviors, and Robert didn’t want to be saved. 

Still, there were ways around such things. She would make him want it.

ew ew ew EW

He decided to wash his face in the bathroom sink before he buttoned the shirt up the middle, the warm water a refreshing change from the rain’s cold that seemed to have set into his bones, decided to stay there until it got warm enough to start decaying. He scrubbed with his hands, then with his fingernails, until he could feel his skin shedding. When he stood up straight again, he saw Ramona’s face—all covered in red, just like his, hair dark red and still damp because the towel could only hold so much. He slammed himself back against the wall, which was only a step away. In the kitchen, Agnes froze over the sink, the coffee pot overflowing in her hand, wetting her hand up to her wrist. 

“Are you alright?” She asked. A moment had passed with no other sound to follow the crash, and there was nothing to do but ask. It felt like an invasion of privacy to do anything else, anything more.

Robert closed his eyes and took a moment to learn how to breathe again, then how to speak. “I’m alright,” he said, and if he was in his own house, no one would have heard him. The walls here were thin, though, and Agnes shook off the interruption to start the coffee maker.

When he was ready to open his eyes again, the reflection in the mirror hadn’t changed. It wasn’t Ramona. It never was. He just looked more like her than usual, that’s all. It was seeing her that had refreshed the image in his mind, gave his idea of her face more clarity, that’s all. 

He sat on the lid of the toilet and held his head in his hands, for a moment, but didn’t let himself cry. There was no reason to, she wasn’t here this time. He hadn’t seen her.

and then some of their coffee scene:

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry. If you want to talk about it, you can, but you don’t have to.”

He was speaking before he had the sense to stop himself. “I won’t get too far into it,” he said, reaching for his cup of coffee. He had no plans to drink it, but now that it had cool enough to just warm his hands, he was thankful that it kept him busy, “but she drowned. In the lake. It was a long time ago.” Indeed, emptying his troubles out to a stranger was soothing, but Robert wasn’t known for his conversation skills. He wanted to let something else slip out—the sight of Ramona out of the corners of his eyes, seeing her at the graveyard and waking up to this gentle woman. Or girl. She was younger than him, he was almost sure, but she could be anywhere from seventeen to twenty-seven.

“Oh, I think I heard about that. Ruby Bennett? My older cousin was close with her. Well, she says she was. She exaggerates sometimes, but they knew each other at least. Martha’s my cousin’s name. I guess if you and Ruby were twins you would have graduated with her.”

“Ramona,” Robert corrected, and set his cup down. The name Martha was familiar to him, but not enough to distract from his sudden, unexpected defensiveness. He moved himself to the edge of the chair, frowning, already feeling the toll of the cheap furniture on his back. The furniture in his apartment was cheap, too, but it was a sort of cheap he was used to. Thrift-store-miracle cheap, not mass produced for $8 a piece cheap. “Her name was Ramona.”

“Oh, sorry. Ramona,” Agnes ran her finger down the short pile of unopened mail, averted her eyes, embarrassed by the nature of her mistake. Her accidental disrespect of a dead girl.

this next part is where the big content warning comes in, if you’re sensitive to sexual assault (it doesn’t follow through all the way but it’s definitely implied) probably don’t read this excerpt or the one that follows, they’re both pretty heavy

Not much later, Agnes was swiping a kiss in the hallway, walking Robert to her bedroom, breath hot and vision blurry. He was unsure how or when they got there, but it was something like this:

Robert, finishing his coffee out of obligation, hoping the caffeine would soothe his headache and give him the energy to drive home soon. He stood up, took the two or three steps to the sink to rinse the cup out.

Agnes, following his movements faster than he could make them. “Let me get that,” she offered, and took the cup from his hand, set his and hers down in the sink, stared up at him with dark eyes and deep red cheeks. 

They were three inches apart. Robert opened his mouth, took a step back (Agnes mirrored it, of course, before he’d processed that he’d moved at all), closed his mouth. Opened it again. A toddler trying to speak, a fish pushing air to the water’s surface, a drowning man. 

Several more seconds of staring, then Agnes’ hand on his shoulder, then her lips on his, then the half-walk, half-kiss through the kitchen and down the hallway. Robert felt as though he might doze off, might fall over, might start crying again. He didn’t understand what he was doing enough to stop. Agnes kept kissing him while she fumbled with the loose doorknob, kept kissing him while she shoved the door open. It had been awhile, but she wasn’t completely without experience. She moved like liquid, so fast and fluid that Robert could hardly inhale, let alone speak. Did she think she could baptize him like this? By holding him under? She started unbuttoning his shirt, slid it off his shoulders, let it fall off the unmade bed and onto the carpet.

 It wasn’t until he realized that she was undoing his jeans that Robert pulled away. Pushed away. Did both at once. Agnes’ eyes flitted open, and she frowned. “What was that about?” Her hair framed her face in a way that made her look young, innocent (and it was still difficult to believe that she wasn’t either of them). She was sitting on the bed and he stood as far from it as he could. It was a twin size and still took up most of the room. He was only a step away from it and backed against the wall.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t have- I can’t do anything like that. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I-” He already knew his whole face was red and his hands would shake the second he thought too hard about them. “Agnes, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.” His apologies were as sincere as they were unnecessary. This wasn’t what he wanted. He knew he wasn’t a good man, but he wasn’t his father. His marriage was what tied everything together, the only reason he’d ever had to regret his past. It was what kept him grounded, even if that wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted for himself. Amanda was the only promise he’d ever kept, the only thing he’d ever paid faith to.

yeah so after this there’s a really awkward dialogue that needs some work so I’m just going to pretend it doesn’t exist for now, just take the end of this neverending hell chapter :) this excerpt is a bit disorganized and messy but so is Robert and so am I so it’s fine.

Leaving his hometown, dizzy and sick to his stomach a forcing his eyes to stay open for the entire fifty-six minute drive, there was a dull knife of guilt pushing at Robert’s gut, trying to cut him open. Why didn’t he stop her sooner? Had he just cheated on his wife? Where did he go from here?

He kept his eyes away from the roadside when he passed his childhood home on the way out of town. His mother wouldn’t miss his visit, and he was likely better off without it. He understood this better than he understood most things, and yet he had to stop himself from turning around, from finding himself on her doorstep, from knocking on the door and falling into her arms the second it opened. He longed for the comfort of any mother but the one the one who’d raised him. Was that an evil thing to think? Would his mother hate him if she knew he’d driven past her?

It didn’t matter. man does what he has to do sometimes, and if that made him evil, he could live with that. Sometimes, a man has to drive past his mother’s house. And sometimes, he has to stop someone from ending his life in a lake by the forest, watch the bubbles float to the top until they don’t, wait a little bit longer to make sure. And sometimes, he has to come home and tell his wife he wasn’t feeling well and had gone to the doctor and was told that he needed to rest for awhile pick up some tylenol if it didn’t get any better, tell her he’d sleep on the couch so he wouldn’t get her sick,  question all night if he would tell her the truth tomorrow or not just to disappear off to work before she was up in the morning and leave a note on the fridge that he was feeling better and that he loved her.

Maybe he did. He couldn’t imagine a world where he’d be so afraid of losing something that he didn’t love. This constant exchange of fear and comfort really couldn’t be anything else.

okay yeah that’s it! hopefully soon I’ll update on the shorter chapters I’ve written since this one, but one of them needs to be re-written entirely since I’m changing so many things about Ramona’s character.

writing this chapter was a bit of a catharsis for me, and also made me realize some changes that need to be made to the backstory/early narrative because Robert’s character ended up evolving into less of a bad person and more  morally gray, the kind of character you can relate to but sometimes in ways that scare you a little bit. I hope you enjoyed this update! I spent way too long working on it and even longer writing the chapter. I’m finally getting back in the swing of writing post-covid and post-going back to school for the first time in two months, so hopefully no other large life-altering events happen because I’m having a pretty good time writing this book.

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