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nickmaghighlights · 9 months

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Nick Mag Highlights - Nick Mag Presents: Danny Phantom (Fall 2005)

Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here. Welcome back to my blog and the words that inhabit it. Today, Halloween comes early this year when we read through another exciting issue of Nickelodeon Magazine Presents, this time all about Danny Phantom. Boo! Trick-or-Treat! Deck the halls!

And not only is this edition of Nick Mag Highlights spooky, it’s also… pretty chill. Y’know? Just takin’ it easy, reading a handful of comics and probably a crossword puzzle or something. As much as I love researching the kind of stuff Nickelodeon Magazine includes in its articles, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and take things at face value and just see what the state of Nickelodeon was like at any given time, and these short-and-sweet issues of Nick Mag Presents are the perfect venue for just that.

But why exactly am I tackling this purportedly Halloween-themed issue in August? Well, mainly it’s because that new Danny Phantom graphic novel just came out… two weeks ago (oops). And I really enjoyed it! So I’ve since been in a big Danny Phantom mood lately. I even ended up re-watching the whole first season and had a blast doing so. This show was a real obsession of mine as a kid, so maybe this blog post is also a way for me to give it its dues.

This issue can be found online here, read along… if you dare!

Another Nick Mag Presents, another humorously wordy introduction. If you’re unfamiliar, basically all these Presents-styled issues have a panel on the first page with a character essentially advertising the book to you and talking about all the comics and activities included inside. This one here features Danny and an understandably perturbed ghost, for example.

Since these issues were usually sold in stores as opposed to through a mail subscription, I suppose this is the issue’s way of hooking you in and explaining to you why you should buy it. I think a kid would probably be more inclined to just flip through the book and arrive at the same conclusion, but I guess this approach doesn’t hurt anybody.

But anyway, let’s see here… aw, only two wholly new comics? The Fairly Oddparents-themed issue I took a look at previously had five original comics. That’s a bummer, but at least we’ve still got variety… SpongeBob, My Life as a Teenage Robot, and The Wild Thornberrys, oh my! Even Tak makes an appearance here, two years before the premiere of his actual Nickelodeon cartoon, meaning this was an attempt to interest readers in the then-recently released video game: Tak 3: The Great Juju Challenge. Not sure if that worked.

And if you’ll take a look at that yellow, spiky bubble with words on the right there, this September 2005 issue is meant to coincide with the then-upcoming two episode-long Danny Phantom special, “The Ultimate Enemy”, which featured Danny taking on a more powerful version of himself from the future. Seems like the included removable poster is even themed around that very episode! Let’s just hope that poster is still left intact, eh?

So first up, we’ve got a page to get you up to speed on the main cast if you’re new to the show. It’s even got some new factoids for the already familiar superfans! For example: Did you know Sam is into anime? I sure didn’t.

Oh, and if you’re wondering where series villain Vlad Masters is, don’t worry, they go over him later on in the book.

On the right you’ll find an easy if not slightly amusing word puzzle, which tasks you with solving questions where each answer contains the word boo. Simple enough for a kid while still being worth the time, methinks.

Although all the stock ghost art on the page gets me wondering, how come most of the ghosts in the show manifest as typical-looking cartoon ghosts while others manifest in a human form? I guess maybe it comes down to the strength of your spirit. Who’s to say?

You’ve met the characters, now it’s time to meet the voices behind them! I’ll always take a side of interviews with my Nickelodeon Magazine, and this is no exception. The questions are cute, and I had fun reading them. Not much to say.

So we’re finally here at the first comic of the issue, and… not really a fan of this one! Yeah, sorry to start this retrospective off on a sour note but this isn’t really doing it for me. The main villain of this one is Youngblood, who already isn’t exactly one of my favorite villains from the series. But here they’ve got him and all the other characters stuck in a pretty by-the-numbers plot where Danny and co. get stuck babysitting the brat while he tries to maim them, with them of course unable to fight back lest they face the wrath of his parents (who are humongous lizard monsters, for some reason).

If you’re even a little familiar with cartoons you’ve probably already seen quite a few takes on this formula already. And even if you like Youngblood as a character they don’t have him doing his usual pirate shtick he’s remembered for, so I’m not sure what anyone is getting out of this, really. What's especially not helping is that this goes on for ten pages, further dragging out an already tired concept.

So there you have it, I guess. Done-to-death story with accordingly done-to-death jokes, a lame villain, and about two pages of action. I will say though, Danny and Tucker’s babysitting poster on page 2 did get a smile out of me, at least.

You’ve met the characters, and you’ve also met the voices behind them, now it’s time to meet… the rest of the characters! The villain ones! These guys really made the show for me, cause the team behind the show really just seemed to understand the assignment and made all of them really unique and memorable.

So we can see they’ve been ranked in terms of how dangerous they all are, which is a fun idea. ‘Course you’ve got Vlad at the top of, but then there’s Technus just behind him? I can’t say I remember him being notably more dangerous than any of the other baddies, I’m fairly certain he gets swept up at the end of his specific episode just like all the rest. I’m pretty sure Valerie gave Danny a bigger run for his money, and she’s down at #3.

Woah now, I’m starting to scrutinize the power levels of cartoon characters. Cartoon characters from a show I haven’t even fully watched all the way through since I was a kid, no less. Better put a stop to that before it gets ugly.

Cool little cartoons on the left there, that one on the top right is properly devious and I’m all for it. All the art is quite lovely too.

The right is… well, it’s Mad Libs, there’s no other way around it. Y’know the Mad Libs website refers to itself as “the world’s greatest word game” but I seriously think they need to take that up with Scrabble, or hell, even Hangman. Yeah I was never a big fan of this kind of fill-in-the-blanks stuff, but I guess it’s a pretty inoffensive activity to include.

Check out Danny’s dad rocking that emo hair.

And now we’ve made it to the second and last new comic for the issue, and unfortunately it’s only a two-pager. But hey, if my thoughts on the previous ten-page comic said anything, it was that I prefer quality over quantity. And this one is… okay. It’s funny enough, does what all it needs to with the concept, and it definitely doesn’t overstay its welcome. I’m again surprised by the lack of action in both of these comics, considering Danny Phantom is an action show, after all, but it’s not like the show wasn’t a comedy either, so it’s not that weird.

I guess while we’re here I could nitpick it a bit. The lineart here courtesy of series creator Butch Hartman* is a bit wonky at times. There’s the aforementioned emo hair Danny’s dad is wearing, but my main gripe is that dog robot just doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the artstyle. It being the only new original character design for this comic as well doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. I guess the team was fine with whatever Hartman drew because he made the show after all, so surely he knows what he’s doing, right?*

*Insert obligatory comment about how much of a loser Butch Hartman is here.

Just want to give a shoutout to this pretty creative puzzle here. It actually stumped me a little when I first read it! Those monster designs are pretty entertaining too. Solid activity overall.

Next up it’s an installment of Sam Shade, which was a short-lived recurring series in Nickelodeon Magazine. Apparently the series ran from 2002 to 2005, so this may be one of the last times a Sam Shade comic was ever printed in a Nick Magazine.

These comics mainly consist of the titular Detective Sam Shade trying to solve some mystery, sleuthing around the area in a series of detailed, wordy scenes. Likewise, you as the reader are as well tasked with scouring the pages for clues to help deduce the culprit. Each panel here smoothly moves into the next, making for something like a Where’s Waldo puzzle but with an actual narrative. It’s a really good idea! A shame this series didn’t last longer.

Hey, is that Carl from Jimmy Neutron on the bottom right there?

Pretty nice My Life as a Teenage Robot comic here. Although that’s kind of unfortunate in a way, since that means I haven’t got much to talk about! It’s pretty much a 1-to-1 translation from animation to comic here. The artstyle and writing are both on point, it’s all just in a shorter, more paper-y format.

I wonder why the aliens’ speech bubble has flowers in it. Is that a theater reference, maybe?

The design of these fiery aliens are particularly awesome - simple but effective. I’m surprised they used such a cool design in a comic that was going to be seen by way less people as opposed to using it in the cartoon. Man, this show is so cool, even its supplementary media is stylish!

But anyway, do you want to know how this story ends? Read it yourself!

Ohh man, I distinctly remember this comic. I don’t remember what issue of Nickelodeon Magazine this one is sourced from, but whichever one it was, I had it. The story’s nothing to write home about really, It's another take on the age old tale of “Squidward yells at SpongeBob and Patrick for doing something annoying, so they inadvertently ruin his life”. Squidward must have a really good lawyer for him to be able to bounce back from all the crap SpongeBob and Pat get him into.

This version of the usual story has S. Bob and P. Rick making a cake in Squidward’s image. Mr. Krabs ends up mistaking it for the real Squidward, bringing it to the Krusty Krab, and having it run the cash register, obviously to disastrous results. It’s all pretty par for the course, and there’s some funny lines to be had.

Weirdly though, unless I’m blind, I can’t seem to find any credits for this one. Not in the comic itself or at the back of the book. I’m pretty sure the artist(s) behind this one did more SpongeBob SquarePants comics though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same writing team had a hand in them too. I distinctly remember one where all the characters turn into desserts. Or maybe it was an alternate universe where they’re all desserts? Something like that. Maybe I’ll find it and cover it on this blog someday!

And up next, it’s a Wild Thornberrys comic of all things (said with feigned surprise, having read the table of contents moments ago). And I’m just now realizing none of these comics have anything to do with ghosts, or horror, really. Quite the magazine you’ve got just in time for October, Nickelodeon!

But hey, it’s not right to judge a piece of art specifically by the context in which it is presented. Especially when it was originally published in a magazine that likely came out years earlier, probably not even around the month of October. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, even when it comes to filling the pages of a magazine.

This comic is especially cool, anyway, as you can no doubt tell from its distinct shakeup in style!

The story has Eliza receiving some gifts from her Japanese friend, Mayumi (who was probably in the show, presumably), one of those gifts being a homemade manga. And while I’m not exactly an expert on the Japanese arts, I certainly find this art convincing and really appreciate the attention to detail. I bet any kids that were fans of manga around this time must have felt pretty seen to have one of their hobbies referenced in a rather unlikely place, and with such attention to detail no less.

One thing I can also appreciate is that this story really isn’t something they could have pulled off in the show itself (unless they studio really wanted to have an anime-themed episode and go through the undertaking of doing an episode in an entirely different, foreign animation style all on their usual budget), so overall this is a really fun idea done quite flawlessly. My only gripe is we don’t get to see a manga-styled Nigel Thornberry, but what can you do?

Oh boy, the Tak comic, cool. Now, I know these games have their fans, but I can’t say I’m one of them. I did watch the show a bit though, but I’ve heard it has nothing to do with the games, so I guess that makes me rather unprepared to tackle this two-page comic on an intellectual, researched level. I will say though that I think the Sam Shade comic from earlier pulled off this style of free-flowing, no-panel storytelling to a much greater effect. The amount of Taks they threw around the page makes it feel really busy and cramped, and they had to essentially remove the second character Tak is traveling with from the story since I guess they were strapped for page space.

But yeah, the colors are nice at least, and Tak media is especially hard to come by nowadays, so I suppose if I were more into the property, I might be more into this.

Last comic of the day, and it’s Jimmy Neutron. At least this one kinda fits the theme, I mean, aliens are almost in the same horror-league as vampires, zombies, ghosts, and all that. This is a pretty quality one to end off the book with, and in regards to Jimmy Neutron, this is one of the better ways these characters have been translated to 2D. Although the incredibly warm colors and harsh shadows throw me for a loop. Pretty good overall!

Before we wrap things up, I would like to mention that advert for The Nicktoons Film Festival on the right. I totally forgot these used to be a thing! From 2004 to 2009 Nickelodeon hosted a film festival and let viewers vote for their favorite animated short, along with letting proper animation people who know what they’re talking about vote on their favorites, too. Lots of great up-and-coming cartoonists took part in these festivals. This one in 2005 actually featured a short by J. G. Quintel that eventually was used as a basis for his own Cartoon Network show, Regular Show! You can check the short out below:

youtube

Neat bit of history there, yeah?

Even though I’m still a bit disappointed this issue didn’t include more original content, I still think this ended up being a fairly entertaining walk down memory lane. And hey, I hope you had a good time too. I’m doubly disappointed, however, that the archive of this issue didn’t come with that tear-out poster! Now we’ll never see it in its full hi-def glory.

As always, thanks for stopping by and checking out another bit of Nick history with me. Have yourself a good one, and I’ll see you all next time!

#nmh post #2000s #2005 #nickelodeon #magazine #danny phantom

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frostfall-matches · 1 year

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[ matchmaking... ]

@ferelden-loser : [ match report ready ]

the romantic match is…

✦ Sylvain Jose Gautier

Yvenne is difficult to impress? Sylvain will take that as a challenge. His less-than-noble motivations for flirting aside, it always catches his attention when people don’t respond favorably to him. Depending on how much he appreciates their presence, he’ll make it a point to try and get on their good side. He’ll try grand gestures as well as small, subtle ones. It starts off really insincere at first, but the more he gets to know Yvenne as a person the more genuine it is. He’s quick to pick up little details and he’ll keep those in mind whenever he wants to just do something nice or show a bit of affection. It becomes his goal to impress her every once and a while. He is definitely the type to pick up little gifts here and there and leave them for her by her room or at her desk.

Sylvain’s the type to give it to her straight if she ends up going overboard with her loyalty to the empire. Sure, Sylvain’s loyal to Dimitri and the kingdom, but he’s not going to just blindly excuse everything that ends up happening. He knows Yvenne is smart and can think for herself, so it’s a bit frustrating to him when it feels like she’s not thinking critically about the person or cause she’s claiming loyalty to. And don’t get him wrong, he’s not saying that she shouldn’t be loyal to Edelgard, but he’d prefer it if her motivations were thoughtful and measured. He’d want her to tell him if he was going too far with something.

Early on, it’s very likely that Sylvain would end up on the receiving end of Yvenne’s quick temper, both intentionally and unintentionally. He likes to tease and sometimes he’s a bit too on-the-nose. On rare occasions, he’s even a little mean-spirited (much more likely to happen when they don’t know each other well). He’s quick to back off and apologize, though how sincere that apology is really depends on the situation and their current relationship. His lackadaisical disposition may rub her the wrong way at first, too, before they establish some sort of common ground between them.

Yvenne would likely be impressed with how intelligent Sylvain is. One thing any INTJ can appreciate is someone who can hold their own intellectually. Of course, it may take a bit of time for her to realize this and really get to see that side of Sylvain. After all, he keeps some of his cards close to his chest and doesn’t let just anyone get close to him. Yvenne is likely to find out how smart he really is when he makes some offhand comment about their classwork, or when he keeps winning against her in board games they play together in their down time.

Sylvain appreciates that she has good leadership qualities. Most people aren’t suited for being a leader, even if they try to claim that type of position. She isn’t the type to boast about it, either; she’s confident in her abilities and she’ll let her actions speak for her. That type of skillset and attitude is such a boon during wartime. Sylvain can definitely rally people, but he prefers not to have the burden of leadership placed on his shoulders. Still, any leadership endeavor that Yvenne might want to tackle, he’d be more than willing to support her in any way she needs.

His bias against the Crest-seeking noble woman aside, once he knows what Yvenne’s stance on Crests are, Sylvain is immediately sympathetic to any struggles Yvenne may have faced being born without a Crest - if he gets to be privy to any information from her past, that is. It hits a little close to home for him, honestly, what with Miklan’s whole situation. As much as he hates the idea of someone he cares about getting shitty treatment just for having or not having a Crest, he’s glad that Yvenne isn’t as likely to follow and uphold the current Crest hierarchy as it is.

On hot days, Yvenne and Sylvain are both the type to stow away from the sun and/or try to find things to do that won’t give them heatstroke. Sylvain’s just more used to cooler weather, and Yvenne detests how uncomfortable hot days can be. If swimming is an option, Sylvain is definitely suggesting that - of course, Yvenne will not be spared from some stupid flirty comment of his, but it is what it is. (He’s also the type to be just careless enough to get moderately sunburned, and he’ll complain about it a lot. Unfortunately for him, Yvenne is not the type to baby him. Tough love.) However, if Yvenne prefers to stay indoors to stay cool, he’d be more than happy to hang out with her and find something low-energy to do.

He’s baffled that she’s related to both Hubert and Hanneman, and yet it makes so much sense. He can definitely see the similarities between her and her two relatives, and it makes the contrasts that much funnier. Once he learns of this juicy little tidbit of information, he’s definitely curious whenever he sees her interacting with them at Garreg Mach. Hubert and Hanneman are both such distinct (weird, in Sylvain’s frank opinion) characters that he wants to see how someone who they consider family treats them. It won’t make him want to get close to either of them, though, so this all stops at sheer curiosity to him.

He thinks Yvenne’s embroidery hobby is really cute. She’s a pretty stern and serious person on the outside, and even if she acts sweeter around him once they’re together, she’s still pretty no nonsense a lot of the time. So, he thinks it’s cute that she has such a delicate and careful hobby. If she does any sort of embroidery on a handkerchief or something similar as a gift for him, he would keep it with him always! It’s a really nice tangible reminder of how much she does for him - anytime he takes it out, he’s filled with so much appreciation and affection for her. And if someone notices and asks him about it, he is more than willing to boast about it (if Yvenne’s the type to get embarrassed about something like that, then that’s too bad for her, LOL).

#user matchup #fe3h #request

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dragonriderwarrior · 6 months

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The Hunted

Chapter 4

The jungle is covered in a thick layer of fog, the floor impossible to see. Dra’Or glided through the mist like the ocean, the fog drifting and swirling around the imposing figure. The veterans note the jungle’s soft ambient hums. As if holding still with tension, anxiously waiting for a predator to pass.

Dra’Or leaps onto the nearest branch, leaving behind the fog. He perched himself on the branch, observing down below.

As he had expected, a prominent and slender figure parted through the fog like a shark’s fin, gracefully moving through the jungle floor with ease.

The being pauses to lift its head from the fog, a hybrid-looking creature cross between a feline and a reptile. It sniffs the air, its snout turning in Dra’Or’s direction. It growls lowly, baring its fangs, but Dra’Or isn’t frightened by the display. If anything, the challenge would have been welcoming if it wasn’t for the fact he was busy hunting something else.

The Ra’cla, is a beautiful and powerful creature, a rare game, and a lovely trophy.

Dra’Or tosss a small disk at the Ra’cla; it screeches when the disk latches on and releases a powerful electric shock—causing the Ra’cla to go invisible and dart away into the thick bush.

Dra’Or considered tracking it down later, but immediately, he felt his head spinning and nauseous. He leaned forward and felt that watery sensation in his mouth mix with his throat tightening as he felt the urge to vomit.

Soon, he heard the all too familiar sound of bones crushing and breaking.

He growls lowly, resisting his sudden sickness as he looks out for the lurking spirit. While mentally praying to god for strength, and if he dies, he hopes the dark hunter will help him drag this creature to hell.

Dra’Or roared when he felt a burst of pain as something slammed into his back. He stumbles forward but is thrown off when tackled to the ground. The spirit hisses and growls as it repeatedly slams its clubs into Dra’Or. Just as the spirit reels back to hit him again, Dra’Or swiftly turns over to backhand the spirit, causing it to be flung away.

The spirit stands up, its jaw dislocated but easily cracks into place. The spirit seems to grin with satisfaction, just as eager for the fight. Or excited to dine on Dra’Or’s liver again, which the veteran wouldn’t allow.

The spirit shrieks as it charges forward, but an invisible force punches it into the ground. A red haze materializes to reveal Wenda. Her canine fangs bare in a wicked grin. “Hey there, Skelly Fury! Nice to finally meet you!”

The spirit hisses angrily at the werewolf, instantly recognizing her for who she is. It recoils at the sight of the amulet as if it were a holy cross. Two more red hazy figures appear, Mi’jan and Nadu, the two leaping at the spirit with a combie stick and wrist blades.

The spirit immediately dodged and weaved through the attacks. Still, the experienced hunters did not allow the spirit an opening attack. Baykok shrieks angrily as it is knocked around before eventually getting pinned to the ground.

It hisses at its foe but seems to pause briefly, noticing the red haze covering the hunters has faded away. The Baykok turns invisible, slipping away and causing the hunters to curse and snarl.

But that outrage was cut short as the two froze with horror as their wrist gauntlet started to count down.

Wenda flinches as she turns to Dra’Or. “Please tell me that’s an alarm and not a ticking time bomb!”

“Deactivate the time sequence!” Dra’Or screeches, a pitch of panic in his tone.

“It-“Nadu began to say, but the timer rapidly counted to zero. A vaporizing bright burst quickly consumes him—the same happening to Mi’jan.

A sense of helplessness and dread overcoming Dra’Or as a wave of light comes barreling towards him. He is pushed back, thinking it is a shockwave, but the light disappears and is replaced with darkness.

Did he die? Is it over just like that?

“Holy fuck, man?! Why the hell do you guys have bombs strapped to your wrist?!”

Dra’Or turned to Wenda, who sat next to him. Is this his hell? To be stuck with this mutt? It can’t be…

“Where are we?” Dra’Or demanded sharply as he stood up to look around the endless emptiness.

“Void pocket, an emergency exit. In case things go to shit.” Wenda snorts. “Since you were close to me, it made sense to drag your ass out of the fire.”

Dra’Or doesn’t respond, Wenda muttering a bitter you’re welcome.

He didn’t pay any mind as his focus was elsewhere. His hunting pack…all gone by an ooman spirit, a coward with dirty tricks.

He snarls and turns to the werewolf. “Send me back.”

Wenda raises her hands, gesturing for him to calm down. “Alright, I will, but you must calm down first. That spirit is going to feed off your anger.” She glanced down at his wrist. “I also suggest you leave any electronic devices behind, or else that puto going to royalty-screw you over. Again.”

Dra’Or scoffed and growled with annoyance, primarily to himself. But also a warning to her.

She made a fair point, and himself nearing an elder status, he should know better than to allow his anger to get the better of him.

“Will I be able to retrieve my equipment later?” Dra’Or demand sharply. But he began to strip off his armor and equipment.

“Woah! Yeah, dude, you’ll get your stuff back, but why are you stripping off your clothes?” Wenda questioned as Dra’Or stripped down until he stood with his codpiece and wrist blades.

Dra’Or snorts as he waves an arm to the empty space. “Send me back.”

Wenda snorts; she rolls her eyes at his demanding tone and impatience. “Fine, whatever. By the way, worst strip tease ever.”

Dra’Or snarls, his patient wearing thin with this bitch.

As a result of the bombs, the jungle had disintegrated into a vast wasteland, specifically a massive crater.

A red portal opens, and Wenda jumps out. “Round two dirt bag or is it round-” she wheezes when darts pierce her hide and collapses. Her body was completely paralyzed. “Motherfucker.”

Dra’Or darts out of the portal, barely missing getting hit by the blow darts. His body weaving and dodging the flutter of darts, the spirit screeching, giving up in favor to charge at the Yautja.

The spirit swings his club, aiming for Dra’Or’s chest, but the veteran snatches the spirit’s wrist. Swiftly, with his other hand, Dra’Or yanked the club out of the spirit’s hand.

And just as quickly, Dra’Or clubbed the spirit over the head, causing it to screech and slam into the ground. Dra’Or begins to brutally pummel the spirit without allowing the spirit a chance, using every ounce of frustration and anger into the beating.

“I think you got him, Donkey Kong!” Wenda’s muffled voice calls out. Her face was buried into the ground.

Dra’Or pants heavily, slowly returning to his senses. He huffs, his arms trembling slightly as he gazes down at the beaten creature— looking more like paste. A poetic justice.

Dra’Or pulled the amulet forward– Wenda gave it to him before leaving the pocket void– the gem glowed softly before releasing a burst of fire onto the spirit. The fire burning the remains into ashes, Dra’Or tosses the club into the fire and watches it burn.

“Well, that felt anticlimax,” Wenda huffs as she stumbles over to Dra’Or’s side. Her body shifted back to an ooman, her amulet shining, immediately clothing her. She raises a brow at him. “Couldn’t you have ended him sooner?”

Dra’Or bristles; she isn’t wrong, but he wouldn’t admit that.

It was not like he had fought spirits before–at the same time Dra’Or was curious what this spirit was capable of. But if he had known this spirit would trigger his packmates’ bombs, Dra’Or would have ended things far more quickly.

Wenda decides not to push it; instead, she looks around, seeing the result of the bombs. She frowns sadly at the loss of Mi’jan and Nadu. She turns back to Dra’Or. “Well…all things considered, you did a good job.”

Dra’Or huffs. “Return my equipment at once.”

Wenda scoffs. “Sheesh, calm your tits for a moment.”

He snorts at her, flaring his mandible at her. Wenda rolled her eyes. “Anyways, if you’re interested, I want to offer you a position among the GateKeepers.”

Dra’Or narrowed his eyes at her before redirecting his attention to the blazing fire.

Wenda shrugs. “I don’t need an answer right away. I’ll let you keep the temp amulet to contact me.” She nudged his arm, a playful gesture which wasn’t welcome as Dra’Or snapped at her. But she grins brightly; a red haze engulfs her. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Wenda disappears in a red flash; Dra’Or thought about her off, but it was overshadowed when he realized his equipment hadn’t returned.

Dra’Or roars. “My equipment!”

But a moment later, a portal opened, and his equipment was dumped onto the ground.

A sharp sigh escapes Dra’Or at the disrespect. He grumbles as he gathers his equipment, dusting it off before putting them on.

He wonders if seeing that mangy mutt again is a good idea.

However, the offer is tempting, the ultimate hunt to track down powerful and unknown creatures. How can any hunter resist such an offer? If Mi’jan and Nadui were alive, he was confident they would accept the offer.

If he believes him, he’ll have to discuss this with the elder first.

Without a doubt, this has been his oddest hunt ever.

The Ra'cla

#yautja oc #predator #yautja #avp #ra'cla #fanfic #ghost hunting #ghost

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fossadeileonixv · 2 years

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Milan 2 Juventus 0

You knew who was going be featured in this post game graphics...you knew…

Warning: I've been gone and am feeling a little bit chatty...

TATARUSANU 7 Clean sheets get at least a 7 from me and he was also decent on the only couple of threats Juve managed to muster. He does have a confidence to his demeanor that he didn't really have last season. Nice to see

KALULU 7 Love watching this kid play. His anticipation...so fun to see. Was solid throughout but the only thing that didn't make his a 7.5 or an 8 was his lack of getting forward. Don't know if that was by design but we'll dig into this below

GABBIA 7 Maybe a little high but I didn't really notice anything glaring about his performance. Looked confident as well. I suppose playing a toothless Juve attack helps anyone

TOMORI 8 Co-MOTM Mike was dead on with his post on Friday - Tomori hasn't been very good so far this season. Apparently he read Mike's words and stepped up to the challenge. I was noticing his play before the goal and he was MUCH better in every facet of the game: anticipation, tackling, angles, aggressiveness. Everything looked better (again, the newborn baby deer-like sturdiness of Juventus's attack helped) but a much needed top-end performance. The goal was just the icing

HERNÁNDEZ 7 Solid in both aspects of the game. Sure was nice having him back in the lineup. His runs are fun to watch and causing so much scrambling by the opponent

BENNACER 7 Warrior. Took a beating and played the whole game

TONALI 7 Solid again. So fun to watch him own Locatelli. Nothing like reminding Juve fans of this every matchup

POBEGA 6.5 Very industrious day for the youngling. Didn't make any highlight-reel plays but did a lot of the dirty work. Lisi would be proud

DÍAZ 8 Co-MOTM Started and was rather quiet to start. All of his best plays came when he was in the middle of the pitch, including that highlight-reel goal to put Milan up 2-0 and effectively ending the game. What a play by the little guy

LEÃO 7 Always a threat and hit the woodwork twice. The offense didn't seem to go through him as much this game and it could be the change in formation

GIROUD 6.5 Not bad by any means but didn't really impact the game the way we've become accustomed to this season. Still a solid workman-like performance from the vet

subs

KRUNIĆ 6 Came in for Pobega and pretty much asked to do the same thing: grunt work. He remined everyone why that's his best role when Brahim found him in the box alone and he headed it 10ft wide of the target

REBIĆ 6.5 Coming in up 2-0 and his nose for goal this season wasn't needed. Still, he made Juve work with constant pressure

CDK 6.5 Thought he played better than the last few games and was solid out wide. I don't know, maybe try him at RW instead of King All-Thumbs Krunić?...¯\_(ツ)_/¯

VRANCKX N/A Not going to rate him since he came in so late but, but...his instincts look good and his size and pace are impressive. I think we may see him get more and more playing time as the year progresses

ORIGI N/A I don't know...he played? That seems too generous

coaching

PIOLI 7 Gets a 7 from me because while I like the fact that he FINALLY changed formations (and beat Juve 2-0), I don't think he hit it out of the park. We'll dive in below

THOUGHTS

Tactics and Formation

Let's get this out of the way: Juve is terrible. Not like relegation-terrible but for the wage bill and overall financial health of the club (and that's assuming the books are legit...), they're dog sh*t. Watching them try to build up play is torture. Then to make matters worse they try to build from the back...oye. I wanted to gouge my eyes out. Once the ball leaves Szczesny's possession it's an Oregon Trail-like gambit. Cuadrado probably died of typhoid at halftime and that's why he was subbed out for McKennie. Just brutal.

So with that caveat, Milan's defense was much better and most importantly they kept their shape. The 3-man midfield undoubtedly helped that effort. Was it overkill after that lazy second half vs Chelsea mid-week? Probably. No, actually it was and it left Milan's attack directionless for sizeable chunks of the game.

I know all the reporting had Milan in the Xmas tree formation but it looked like a 4-3-3, which is what Fotmob had up as its predicted lineup. Look at the average player positioning in this game in Figure 1:

I mean, look at the front 3. It's literally the front of a 4-3-3.

So what did this do? It didn't change much on the left, as Theo and Leão were doing their usual and that naturally pulled Juve's defense that way. Over on the right Brahim kept the width but the right side was dying for some overlapping runs (as I mentioned earlier, I really wanted to see Kalulu get forward more). Because Kalulu sat back more this allowed the right side of Juve's defense to crowd out Theo/Leão and Juve's left side to cheat towards the middle. This was especially prominent when Milan had the ball in the final third and had very little success doing, well, much of anything. All of this should be familiar to us Milan fans as this tends to be how defenses try and play Milan when they're in their usual 4-2-3-1 (and why a new RWer and/or production of any sort from whoever is at RW is needed).

When Juve was backed up you saw what I described just above, but in transition, when Milan won the ball back above their 18yd box or in the middle of the pitch, Juve's shape was more evenly spread out and getting past Juve's midfield and CBs once Milan won the ball back was the key to unlocking their attack. Why? Bonucci and Bremer were higher up the pitch than most opponent CBs and left space in between them and their keeper. We saw something similar vs Salzburg and both the Salzburg keeper and Szczesny cleared a lot of balls when Milan tried to go over the top.

Considering these tactical decisions by Juve, many of Milan's most threatening attacks came right down the middle and having a player there who could receive and turn with the ball (and not immediate pass it back out wide, which is what Juve was playing for), could really cause some damage. On the plays Brahim did find his way towards the middle of the pitch he drew Juve's only yellow card when Cuadrado had to pull him back with a tactical foul to prevent him from springing a 3-on-2 counter, and then of course later in the game Brahim anticipating the passing lane - and being helped by a terribly lazy Vlahovic pass - and breaking away for the game-ending goal.

Pioli not starting the game with someone in the middle to exploit this, or even in general, could’ve been costly (and no, Pobega, who was making runs and getting forward, doesn’t count. Need a real CAM in there). Serie A is still pretty clustered at the top and Pioli needs to get these right. I know he mostly has but the margins have been tighter than last season.

Takeaways

I like Pioli actually changing formation to start a game considering this isn't something we see him do a lot when short on bodies. The Krunić out wide at RW should never be tried again after the CL match vs Chelsea. Milan was doomed before kickoff that game with Krunić out wide.

But was this the right change? No. It was the wrong formation regardless of if it was a 4-3-2-1 as reported or a 4-3-3 in performance and functionality. The only way I would say they should play a 4-3-3 is with either of their actual RWers or by putting CDK out there, but if that's the case and those options are available then I wouldn't select a 4-3-3. The only way a 4-3-2-1 makes sense would be to have Brahim and CDK behind Giroud but then that takes Leao out, which is dumb. But Leão did play and if Leão and Brahim were both in the more traditional locations of the two players behind the striker then they would get in each other's way and negate some of their best offensive attributes: attacking in space.

I think the only two formations Milan should start any game with, barring some unforeseen catastrophic series of events, is with a 4-2-3-1 or 4-3-1-2. That's it. We know - and I think all agree - the 4-2-3-1 is Milan's best shape, RW issues notwithstanding, but I think the 4-3-1-2 could work really well as well with Florenzi out wide on the right whipping in crosses and Theo and Leao still doing their thing on the left. It essentially only swaps out Milan's weakest position, RW, for an additional midfielder.

Regardless if it's a 4-2-3-1 or 4-3-1-2, one of the things either of these formations need is a player who can turn and run with the ball in the CAM position. While CDK has shown signs of being able to do this it's not something he does on the regular (and why, in part, Milan struggled with Salzburg), Brahim seems to be the better fit in this system and why Milan seem to perform better with him out there when compared to CDK this season. Both players need to continue to get production from that RW spot though, so…and I can't believe I'm going to type this out: Milan need Messias or Saelemaekers back and soon(assuming Pioli won't play CDK out there, which is odd. With both of them out CDK at RW would be my go-to).

Quick hits

I posted this stat a few weeks back but here it is updated: Milan scores every 33.4 minutes with Brahim on the pitch, and every 61.6 minutes with CDK

Giroud got credit for an assist on his shot that hit Tomori and WAS NOT AT ALL A PASS, that then Tomori banged home after a favorable bounce. I think a rule change is in order: goals like this should not be credited as an assist for a dude who was clearly trying to score, or at the minimum start counting hockey assists on passes that are clearly consequential to the buildup of the goal. Like, cool, a dude lucks into an assist. Got it. But like hook a dude up who sprung a counter but wasn’t the second-to-last guy to touch it

Tatarusanu now has as many Serie A clean sheets as Magic Mike this season. I smell a controversy brewing...

Kalulu is at the minimum the defensive team MVP so far this season, and I would put him up there with Leão in terms of being indispensable. He's played in every game so far this season and when Pioli tried to rest him he got brought in due to injury every time and has already played at RB and both left and right CB positions

Juventus is really sh*tty. Have I already said that?

Alright, sound off below and I'll wait for some dude named Tom to correct something I said because I was off by thiiiiiissss much *pinching fingers closely together*.

Big game Tuesday vs Chelsea and need at least a point from that one. Finally, one last pic just for me...look at my favorite lil'guy! Look at him! Look at Bremer and his stupid face!

Forza Milan!

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bottoms-movie · 3 years

Text

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

#marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic recs #fic recs #usermarcy #usersof #tusernini #tusersammy #usersmile #usersamanne #usercross #sambucky fanfic #my fic recs

1K notes · View notes

slasherholic · 3 years

Text

synopsis: you reflect on a few incidents in your relationship with asa that really should have tipped you off as red flags while you wait for him to come back and torture you some more.

contains: gender neutral reader, graphic depictions of violence and torture, psychological torture, death, kidnapping, rib trauma, referenced abuse, current abuse because it’s fucking asa, I’ll throw in manipulation and gaslighting just to be safe.

note: quite a few scenes and tidbits in this were heavily inspired by a chat I had with the brilliant and lovely @sanguine--honey, so thanks again for letting me include those in this fic c:

word count: 4k

(Part One, Part Two)

Asa Emory / The Collector x Reader | Loose Ends | Part Three

When he finally unchained you from the pole he dragged you violently up several flights of steep stairs. His strength seemed tireless no matter how much you struggled.

You were bruised and battered and smearing blood on the floor behind you when he got to where he was taking you. He ignored the desperate way you were still screaming at him and threw you violently in a black trunk in a room with bright white lights and steel lab tables. He had slammed the heavy door shut so hard the force of it knocked a painting off the wall. Many locks turned on the other side. You clutched your stomach with both hands and doubled over and began to dry heave.

You sat crying in the dark. When the tears wouldn’t come out anymore, you looked for a way out. Tried to feel around the edges. Your arms burned terribly and you could smell your own body fluids lingering among the overwhelming smell of disinfectant loitering in the air. Your face ached from where he’d held your mouth to silence you when he plunged the needle in. There was a perfectly round hole in the side of the trunk, the size of your pinky nail, that appeared to have been made with a drill. An airhole. Or a peephole.

But the trunk itself was locked up tight. There was no getting out.

You studied the room through the peephole. There were four other trunks sitting upright on the floor to the left of you, at least that you could see, lined up one after the next to form a semicircle. Each was a different color—red, blue, green, brown, in that order.

You called out very softly and asked if anyone was there.

Silence.

Sniffling again, you sat with your knees curled tightly into your chest, and allowed your mind to romp.

There had been signs, red flags abound, and you had ignored them, made excuses for him in your head, filed every uncomfortable incident away to be rationalized at a later date. You might not have known until the very end that he was this. But you had known enough. Asa, beneath his carefully manufactured charm and suave, was the coldest man you had ever met.

So you arrived at the crushing conclusion that you had nobody to blame for this but yourself.

There had been one instance, close to the start of your relationship, or whatever it was you had with him, where you found yourself very inebriated in his expensively furnished living room.

Asa had implied over dinner that he would like to go upstairs and have sex after you were finished, and he’d cleared the plates off his dining table nearly twenty minutes ago. You challenged him to arm-wrestle first.

“Please?” You spread your legs out on his blue persian rug, intent on staying awhile.

Asa sat across the room from you in the cushioned chair closest to the hall, his hands folded in his lap. The look on his face was growing rather unamused.

“I already said no. Can we move along?”

“Come on, have a little fun.”

His expression grew more dour still.

“You’re drunk. Very drunk. I thought I told you to go easy with the drinking.”

“You, Dr. Emory, are being a total stick in the mud.”

You pestered him about it until he humored you.

He took you by the hand and set your arm up on his nice coffee table which he had cleared delicately of a stag beetle specimen in a spotless glass display.

“Count of three.” You slurred, a smile growing in your eyes, one he didn’t care to return.

“One.”

He adjusted his grip dexterously around your fingers. His arm was bigger than yours by far.

“Two.”

The thick tendons in his wrist jumped out. It would be no contest. You wanted to try anyway. You thought it would be fun.

“Three.”

You fought against his hand with everything you had. You laughed. Asa let you struggle against him for a few moments, regarding you with an utter lack of concern on his face. For all your efforts you couldn’t budge his wrist by a centimeter.

Then he smashed your hand so quick and hard into the coffee table your knuckles throbbed and you yelled.

The laughter fell from your face like a stone. You jerked in his grip. His hold moved down to your wrist where he held you tightly and didn’t let go. Suddenly, you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

Asa, leaning forward, spoke to you very slowly, and made you linger on every syllable, as if you were stupid.

“Are you finished? Shall we move on? Or would you like to go again?”

He squeezed your wrist a bit harder. You could feel the pulse in your arm quickening, throbbing in his grip, which was getting tighter every second.

You let him take you upstairs without suggesting any more games.

In the morning, you hardly remembered the sex, but your hand was bruised. Asa didn’t mention anything to you about it as he got ready for work. It was the last time you had ever been drunk around him.

You jolted awake in the trunk. Your arms burned in a way that sent vicious chills through your extremities. There was a wet stain on the wall where you must have fallen asleep at some point. Resting a hand on the trunk, you stared cautiously through the peephole.

Asa wasn’t there. But the painting that had fallen was back in its place on the wall.

Your stomach sank. You thought some more to try and distract yourself from the pain in your arms and your aching body.

There had been that one night in the park. The night you stayed awake many sleepless hours trying and failing not to remember what you witnessed.

The sunset had dissipated and the only light remaining in the park was what filtered down from the black street lamps towering like spires all along the sidewalk. Asa had touched something on the bench he didn’t like, and had gotten up to wash his hands in the nearby bathroom.

You watched a pair of moths fluttering around each other near the lamp across the path and noticed someone approaching from the corner of your eye. Assuming it was Asa, you turned to ask him what species he figured they were.

It wasn’t Asa.

The mugger shoved you forcefully off the park bench. You spilled onto the cold sidewalk, knocking your head on the concrete.

“Give me the fucking wallet.”

The man must have thought you were alone. He wore black jeans and a grey t-shirt. He brandished a short switchblade at you which you stared at with wide terrified eyes. You were shocked to silence, frozen in place.

The mugger made a grab for the wallet in your shaking hands.

And Asa had tackled him from behind with such force that both men went spilling into the grass on the opposite side of the path.

He was back on his feet by the time the mugger was still clambering to his mud-stained knees. You watched Asa’s hand go somewhere beneath his olive jacket as he pulled out a knife you hadn’t known he carried. He flipped it in his grip and held it with the blade angled down toward the grass. His face had become profoundly unreadable.

His movements dripped with practice and polish as he sized your mugger up. The muscles in his legs were spring-loaded as he stalked back and forth along the grass. Every step had a purpose.

He dove in for a slash across the man’s stomach. You saw blood spray in a wide arc and heard the man make a painful strangled sound. Asa ducked beneath a clumsy swipe for his face, stepping away again. He passed his knife from one hand to the other; now, he was circling the man. Not adjusting his stance. Circling him.

The man lunged at him with a grunt. The switchblade raced for his chest. Asa caught his wrist and slashed him deep across the thigh.

You’d always known his reflexes were astonishingly quick. Once, you dropped your expensive camera while photographing the exhibits at the museum, and he had grabbed it before it hit the ground, lecturing you in a more-or-less jesting manner about getting a lanyard for it as he stood to hand it back to you, an incident which at the time had made your cheeks warm.

Asa planted his shoe squarely in the man’s abdomen and kicked him away hard. The man made a guttural sound as he tumbled back on the grass, gasping for air, and Asa let him clamber to his feet again, still circling. The look on his face was no longer indifference. It was something far more intense.

The man turned, staggering, and tried to run.

Asa was faster. He tackled him again, wrestled him brutally to the sidewalk. The man swung blindly, got lucky in his desperation—and clipped him across the shoulder.

Asa snarled. Not a grunt, it had been a snarl, low and throaty, like an animal.

He slashed violently at the man and his knife flashed sharply in the lamp light. Blood erupted from the cut in a heavy mist. The man fell back on the ground, dropping his own blade, clutching his throat. Asa straddled him on his knees, and grabbed him by the face, wrenching his head up. You heard the crack of the man’s skull meeting the concrete from where you sat.

The man started shouting desperately for help.

You watched Asa raise his knife. His arms and shoulders flexed and strained the sleeves of his jacket. You knew by the look on his face alone that you were about to witness a murder. Before you knew what you were doing, you were yelling at him to stop.

Asa didn’t hear. Or he ignored you.

He drove the knife hard into the man’s stomach.

The man made a wet strangled sound, bringing up his arm to try and block the onslaught, because Asa was already raising his arm again.

He stabbed the same spot. Every stab that followed was faster. The man’s yelling became screaming and you saw Asa’s hand shift to cover his mouth. The man’s muffled screams fell to thin whining. Then ragged wheezing. Then, stopped.

A cricket chirped beyond the reach of the street lamps. The moths fluttered near the bulb across the path.

Asa straightened up his posture. His nostrils flared heavily with breath. He seemed to take in the gored body on the concrete beneath him, which had gone motionless.

Five seconds hardly passed before he stood, slowly, rising to his full height, carefully side-stepping the body. The man’s blood trickled off the tip of his wet knife and dripped on the concrete next to his black dress shoes. His jacket sleeves and the sides of his charcoal pants across his thighs were stained with long dark swaths. He rolled his shoulders. The breeze tousled his disordered hair.

There had been a few moments you could recall when it really occurred to you how big Asa was.

He wore flattering clothes often, and your eyes were sometimes tempted towards the wide muscles in his chest, but the way he talked to you was very ensnaring, as he always seemed to have something interesting or intelligent or just plain sarcastic in a dry but not-to-be-taken-seriously way to say; so when he spoke, you found it difficult to look anywhere but at his handsome face. You only really witnessed the scope of his strength when you slept with him. The ways he was able to handle you when he wanted made you feel, at times, incredibly vulnerable around him.

Asa had turned his whole body toward you when he considered you where you sat huddled on the sidewalk, reigning in the hot breaths which broadened his chest and spiraled into the chilly night. The man’s blood had gotten on his cheek. You started to shiver. He regarded you with a look that read staggering disapproval, as though this, and what would inevitably follow, was not worth his time, as though it might as well have been your fault, as though he was currently considering very strongly doing something about it later in private.

“You should call the police.”

Before you knew what you were doing or why you were really doing it you scrambled for your phone in your pocket and tapped on the screen with very shaky fingers, “9-1-1.”

The ambulances pulled up to the street corner first followed shortly by two squad cars. Asa stood up slowly from the green park bench to meet them, and you stayed kneeling on the cold sidewalk.

He introduced himself to the officers as Dr. Asa Emory and dealt with their questions very professionally. At one point, he had pulled a neatly folded paper out of his wallet, which the questioning officer took, shined her flashlight at, and returned to him, nodding her head. The story was very apparent: a couple walking in the park had been assaulted at knife-point, and a registered concealed-carry weapon had been used to dispatch the aggressor.

The officers came over to question you. Asa, standing off to the side, removed his bloodied jacket, which he hung neatly over the park bench. He watched you closely. The look on his face was like the prick of a thorn.

You diverted your gaze away from him and nodded at the officer’s questions dumbly, staring at the medical workers as they bagged up the body on the sidewalk. An EMT was called over, who concluded that you were in moderate shock, and that you should go to the hospital.

“I won’t be riding along with you.” Asa was down to his tan sweater, rubbing his newly cleaned fingers together at his side, which he had been given bottles of water to wash off at his request. The indifference on his face didn’t lift as they strapped you down to the gurney.

“The officers have a few more questions, so I’ve agreed to go with them down to the station.”

His words were factual and rhetorical, as if your input on the matter wasn’t at all needed, so you didn’t say anything back to him.

It was the last you heard from him until he showed up in your hospital room several hours later. Your stomach lept a little when the door opened and he came in.

He was wearing a change of clothes, his hair groomed back into place, looking very much the part of respectable Dr. Emory again. He had brought you dinner from the lobby downstairs.

He sat in the only chair in the room as you picked at the warm mashed potatoes in the black tray, and made conversation about how you were handling things, and if there was anything he could get you, and though it all felt very shallow and obligatory you found yourself playing along as best you could, because sitting in the room alone with him was giving you very obvious goosebumps.

Asa drove you home later that night. You got out of his car without a word, went to your door, and quickly did the lock behind you.

After falling into bed, you were afraid of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit it then; you tried to cling tightly to the parts of him you still thought you loved. But from then on, you were, genuinely, afraid of him.

What made it worse, you suspected he saw it, too.

His holds on your wrist when you turned away from him before he had quite finished lecturing you about something very irresponsible or just plain ignorant you had done were firmer. There was the way he moved his jacket occasionally when he shifted his posture, and you caught a glimpse of his holstered knife for a moment too long. And how, when he asked you a question—one to which you didn’t immediately have an answer—he turned all his attention on you, and began to approach you, boxing you in, cutting off your escape, slowly repeating the question.

He’d known. Without a doubt, he had known.

Sobbing started in the trunk next to you and it jolted you harshly out of your thoughts.

It sounded like a man. A younger man. You tried to talk to him.

“Hello?”

Sudden silence fell. You repeated yourself.

“Is someone there?”

“-Yes.”

The voice came out very quietly. For a moment, you didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what there was to say.

“What’s your name?”

Silence for another moment.

“It’s Noah.”

There was rattling as Noah shifted in his trunk.

Noah told you he’d been taken on a Tuesday. A horrendous sinking feeling settled in your stomach at that.

Tuesday was six days ago. Asa had come back very late that night smelling strongly of disinfectant and nitrile, as he did sometimes. You figured he'd stayed past closing hours at work for something important but asked him about it anyway, in the name of making casual conversation, an occurrence which had been growing steadily more reclusive between the two of you. His response had been clipped and curt. You didn’t ask him any more about it.

Noah seemed to hear Asa coming down the hall before you did.

“Stop. Stop talking.” His voice was suddenly desperate, laced with terror. “He’s coming back. He’s coming back. Please don’t talk. Don’t say anything.”

But that wasn’t part of the plan.

The locks clicked open on the other side of the black door.

You started pleading at him with your raw hoarse voice the second he stepped into the room.

“Asa, please! You know I didn’t tell anyone! I’ll do anything you want, you know I will! Asa, please!”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging him for. Please let me out. Please clean my arms before they get infected. Please don’t hurt me anymore.

He shoved your trunk so violently as he walked past that your head knocked against the wood and everything went dizzy for a moment.

Through the airhole, through your fresh, blurry tears, you watched him squat down, and unlock the brown trunk next to yours, the one the young man was in.

Noah couldn’t have been older than his early twenties but his face was exhausted and gaunt. His shirt was gone and his red sweatpants were soaked through with sweat or something else. The shackles around his wrists and ankles rattled as Asa’s arm darted into the trunk.

He wrenched the young man out by his tangled brown hair. Noah made an anguished sound, but didn’t struggle much as Asa hauled him swiftly towards the operating table.

It occurred to you then what Asa had drilled the peephole in your trunk for.

The young man begged desperate things while Asa locked his shackled wrists and ankles down to the fixtures on the table. No. Not again. Stop. Please don’t do it again. You looked closer, noticing the long row of stitches running down his side, the skin around them still red and puffy, and thought you might be sick.

Asa grabbed him roughly by the face, and leaned in very close, settling his hand on his bare abdomen. He said something next to Noah’s head too quiet for you to overhear. Noah’s chest heaved rapidly. Asa stood again, and gave the side of his ribs a light stroke before he walked away.

The young man on the table had paled fast. He lay staring at the ceiling with huge unblinking eyes, trembling, looking very much in shock at what he had just heard.

Asa took his time choosing the surgical tools from his cabinets. You watched him prepare the room, too afraid to look away. Maybe it was all a bluff. Please god let it be a bluff. He laid out two separate trays on the stainless-steel countertops, putting his tools in one, and set an extra out near the sink.

It wasn’t a bluff.

Noah was very awake when Asa began to cut his chest open.

His body obscured your view of the table but you knew the exact moment the scalpel sank in because the young man made a horrible screeching noise and began thrashing violently in his chains in a huge clamor. His body seized and his eyes rolled back in his head. He seemed to try to vomit; nothing came out.

Asa did not carry out his work hastily. Finished with the bloodied scalpel, he set it in the tray adjacent to his clean tools. When he turned away from the counter, you glimpsed his face.

The look of steady concentration he wore was no different from the times he’d let you watch him process an important specimen or sketch or paint. He clamped Noah’s skin back with pairs of forceps, and peeled off his wet black gloves, beneath which he was already wearing a fresh pair.

You took in the sight on the table while Asa went to the corner of the room to discard the gloves. Noah’s wet red ribs glistened beneath the long hanging lights and you could smell the slippery viscera from where you sat. You watched them expand as his lungs inflated with tortured breath, which was no longer anything but a bloody gurgling deep in his throat.

Asa came back, going next for the surgical pliers, ghosting his hand along his options until he seemed to settle on the proper one. When he looked up, pliers in hand, he was deliberately, unmistakably, casting his gaze across the room at your trunk. As if to make sure you were still watching.

Your heart nearly stopped. Air wouldn’t come in.

Then he returned to his work and started clipping Noah’s ribs off.

You could hear the bone snapping every time. The young man passed out more than twice on the table and that was the only time there was silence in the room.

Asa deposited the rib clippings in a third tray, and went to wash them free of blood and tissue in the steel sink while the near-corpse on the table made awful rattling noises, struggling to breathe; Noah seemed to be watching Asa, too, trying at least, but the immensity of his struggle had burst capillaries in his eyes.

Asa laid the ribs out on a pristine white cloth, organizing them from shortest to longest, toweling them individually off, and went about measuring them lengthwise with a yellow tape, then again around their circumference. He placed them gently in a bin, sealed the lid tight, went for a pen, and wrote something in his neat handwriting on the label.

You watched him take a curved needle and load it carefully with fine black suturing thread pinched delicately between his finger and thumb. Noah screamed and squirmed weakly with all he had left as it went in, which wasn’t much at all. Asa pulled the needle in and out, bringing his skin back together until his gaping chest was shut again.

The young man was still alive when Asa hauled him back into the trunk, a fresh row of black knots holding his ruined flesh closed.

Or at least he was still twitching, blinking, drawing shuddering agonized breaths through his wide-open mouth from which there ran an endless trickle of saliva and blood. The bottom of his stitched-shut chest was concave where his lower ribs used to be. He didn’t look like he’d live another hour. You hoped he wouldn’t.

Asa shut the lid and did the latches.

He went back to the counter for the ribs, taking an indirect path around the table, which carried him right towards you. You scrambled back from him as fast you could. The trunk didn’t let you get very far. You felt his fingers rap along the lid from one side to the other and couldn’t choke back your broken sound.

He left through the heavy door, doing up all the locks, and this time, you heeded Noah’s advice. Your mouth stayed utterly, obediently, shut.

After a few minutes of hopeless wheezing, Noah fell silent in the brown trunk, and never made another sound after that.

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collector #the collection #slashers #horror #slasher x reader #reader insert #writing #fanfic #darkfic #tw: torture #tw: abuse

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration.

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic.

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him.

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss.

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom.

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully.

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before.

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him.

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave.

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him.

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds.

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there.

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him.

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did.

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake.

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question.

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all.

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much.

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say.

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion.

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time.

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George.

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken.

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged.

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long.

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall.

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away.

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked.

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure.

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter.

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing.

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong.

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners.

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk.

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression.

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation.

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath.

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say.

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips.

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night.

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on.

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style.

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasley #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyfluff #wedding #enemies to lovers

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mikalara-dracula · 3 years

Text

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #yuma mukami #subaru sakamaki

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peonyneko · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing so far, and I hope you don’t mind if I send you a request :) I was wondering if you could write something with Tenya Iida x the reader? I was thinking a situation where they’re on a class trip to the beach and he sees mineta bugging the reader with flirts because she’s wearing a bikini. I would love to see how Iida would react. Thanks in advance!

Buzz Off, Pop Off | Tenya Iida x Reader

I am making the class’ ages slightly ambiguous because I know a wide age range of people read fanfics. However, the story makes more sense in a high school or university setting. If you are older, you can make UA a hero university and 1-A one of the hero classes there. Also I apologize over how long this took to do. Hopefully, if you're reading it you like it.

Words: 1791 words | Fluff

Warning: Inappropriate comments, uncomfortable comments

“Say cheese!” Mina exclaimed as she attempted to capture pictures of everyone in the class. A scream emits from my throat as she tackles me into the water. Somehow, we managed to stay up. I hold up a hand covering part of face and body to avoid a full capture.

“Come on! You look absolutely amazing. It’s for the memories,” she pouted while crossing her arm.

“Hm... Try beating me in game of volleyball. We’ll see then,” I challenged her.

“Game on!”

“Pick your team. May all the luck be with you,” I bowed towards her, making her laugh at my response.

“Hey, everyone! We both are playing volleyball. Does anyone want to join?!” Mina shouts while pointing at the both of us. I instantly hear a series of ‘yes’ and ‘me’ throughout the beach.

Looking around, I made sure everyone was in their position. Iida is on my team... Wow. Okay, calm down. Don’t panic. Luckily (and obviously), this portion of the beach was reserved for the class only. The teachers were all still visible talking amongst themselves. As soon as the whistle blew, my focus turned towards the ball.

“____, you look quite hot with your bikini!” And there he goes.

“Wow. I wish you jumped towards me like that.” Dude, let me concentrate. Crap, the block was good.

“How about you and I go somewhere after this?” No thank you. Crap, I need to be careful with my spikes. It almost went out.

“Hehe. I know you’re interested, ____. You keep look at me.” No. I am looking at you with disgust. And I’m focusing on Iida, who is BEHIND you.

Before I can say anything Iida blows the whistle, indicating that we take a break. I try to catch my breath as the group rests. In the corner of my eye, a figure walking towards another captures my eye. I listen into their conversation.

“Mineta, I suggest you stop that disgusting behavior of yours. Can’t you see you are ruining her day?” Iida began. His confrontation immediately warms my heart. He didn’t have to do that but he did.

“Nah, you’ve got it wrong. She’s just chilling. Plus, she keeps looking at me. She’s interested.” Mineta responds while waving his hand up and down to dismiss Iida.

“I’m not.” I instantly blurt out with clear distaste.

“Your comments are still detestable. Her behavior shows discomfort not attraction. You need to stop.”

“Iida, calm down. Things won’t always go your way.” Mineta rolls his eyes.

“Then, I guess you leave me no choice.”

“Both teams, please listen up!” Iida drew the attention to himself.

When both teams gathered near him, Iida laid out a suggestion.

“How about we switch players? Mineta can switch with... Ojiro.” Both teams instantly went into consulting amongst themselves. Despite a few disagreements, the suggestion was not hard to accept. Since my team is aware of his behavior, they had no problem with agreeing with Iida.

The next thing I know, break ends and the games starts once again. We played three sets total. My team won the first set, Mina’s team won the second set, and now we were on the last set. Despite being on the other side of the net, Mineta continued to make suggestive face gestures. He also made some comments towards Mina. However, in response, she shot her acid at him, making him instantly regret his words.

Now, my team was one point away from winning.

“_____, are you okay? Are you able to concentrate?” Iida was focused on the game. Still, he made the time to ensure my state of mind. I reply with a quick ‘yes’. Right then, I see the ball rushing towards me.

“I got it!” I push my arms out to receive the ball, which I managed to do.

“Nice receive, ___!” Iida complimented while setting the ball towards Izuku.

Midoriya was there within a second, harshly slamming down the ball right besides Mineta’s position. The wind that emitted from it was otherworldly. My eyes widen in surprise. My eyes only grew when I saw Iida smiling to himself, then making a happy expression towards Midoriya. Did they plan- No. It’s probably because it’s our winning point.

“Ah! No! Mineta, it was right there!” Mina complains.

“Well, I could’ve died!” Mineta stood there in fear with his legs trembling.

I only chuckle to myself. My team cheers over our win. Soon enough, everyone begins to disperse.

“Aw, I really wanted a picture of you,” Mina whines, trying to convince me with her eyes. I just shake my head and whisper in her ear.

“Peer pressure but fine. Only after you know who leaves.”

Mina vigorously and happily shakes her head up and down.

After the exhausting sets, I decided to go in the water to cool off. I close my eyes, feeling the water against my legs. Suddenly, I heard voice.

“Just one date. What about it?” Mineta was, yet again, near me. Before I can respond, a blast of wind hits my fast. I look up and Iida was towering over me with Mineta in his grasp.

“Now, what did I tell you back there?” he sounded angrier than earlier.

“Uh. That she was not liking what I uh said,” Mineta was visibly panicking against his grasp.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Iida eyes darken and he tightens his hold on Mineta’s arms.

“No.”

“Then, I am sure you know what to do. Please, do not make me repeat myself,” he lowered Mineta back on the ground. Mineta quickly rushes towards the beach house. I also see others going back inside. It is starting to get a bit dark. Cold too.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Iida looked worried. He kept his distance from me as if he wanted to make sure I am comfortable.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry. You were able to keep him away from me. I was about to say something but you flew in.”

“Oh, I do apologize. I did not mean to enter your situation. You just looked uncomfortable with his presence,” he fixed his glasses. My heart was beating rather quickly. The cool breeze against my skin was not helping the heat on my cheeks and neck.

“No! You’re alright. Thank you!” I quickly responded.

“Since it is getting cold,” Iida reached for his bag and pulled out a blue shirt.

“Here you go,” he hands me his shirt.

I take it into my hand and unfold it to put it on. A slight blush builds on his face after seeing me put it on. We continued to simply gaze at each other until I looked at the water.

“You look- Well, you see- I- For a while now,” I was confused with Iida’s tense composure. I closed his eyes and breathes in, then breathes out.

“I do not want you for feel pressured. Please tell me to stop when you begin to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable. I simply need to get this off my chest,” he began. What?

“I’ve liked you for a while now. I can’t help but feel the need to take care of you. Though, I am full aware that you’re completely capable taking care of yourself. When Mineta made those crude comments, my irritation only tripled. I want to be able to fully stop that without making you feel surprised with my sudden interference. I have never wanted to be with someone as much as I have wanted to be with you. We still have a long way to go in life but I can tell that my feelings are serious. Will you be my girlfriend? Will you make me your boyfriend?” he looked calm but his red ears hinted otherwise.

My mouth was slightly open in surprise. My mind was trying to process all the information. I looked at the water, once again. What are you doing?! This is your chance. You’ve like him for a long time too. Do not ruin this for yourself.

“I won’t rush you so take your ti-”

“I like you too!” I interrupted him. He steps back at my sudden confession.

“I have liked you for a while too. I just didn’t know what to do. So yes, I’d love to be partners,” I smiled at him.

His eyes widen and glimmer with light. His face grows a big smiles and his chest swells. He puts out his hands but does not lean forwards.

“Can I hug you?”

“I don’t see why not”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I felt his warmth around my body.

*click* Huh? I internally shrug off the sound that I heard.

Upon entering the beach house, I heard the class talking amongst themselves.

“I told you so! You owe me a hamburger,” Denki told Jirou.

“Hm. Seems like you were right after all, Midoriya,” Todoroki says. Bakugou ‘tsk’ed at both of them.

I was in utter confusion until I noticed the image in Mina’s hand. It was a polaroid of Iida and I hugging.

“And here you were lecturing me about my actions,” Mineta looks at Iida.

In return, Iida only crosses him arms and glare at him.

“Mr. Aizawa wants to have a word with you. I suggest you do not lie. He already saw your actions and I did not leave out any details,” he replies. There were a few giggles from the students.

“Also,” the classroom is completely silent.

“I’m her boyfriend so buzz off, pop off.”

Not even a second after Iida’s confession, the classroom began screaming and laughing. The reaction towards the his changed relationship status and use of vocabulary was undeniably loud. Mineta’s mouth opens with shock at Iida’s words.

Iida gently takes my hands and pulls me towards the main room’s couch.

“Now, tell us everything!” Mina exclaims flopping the polaroid around as she walks near us. The rest of the class, except for Mineta, also gathers around to hear the story.

“Ah! That’s so cute. I didn’t know that’s when you started liking ____.” Me neither.

“Why did it take you so long to realize, huh?!”

“You shouldn’t be talking, Bakubro. You denied their attraction first.” Oh, no.

“Dude, you’re right but I don’t think you should have- Hey, wait! I didn’t mean it like that.” I hope he is okay.

“With the way he looked at her when he and I walked together, I was sure of it.” Always the observant one.

“I love you” I whispered at Iida, underneath all the noise.

“I love you just as much” Iida whispers back into in my ear.

-----

Please leave any suggestions or requests. Not beta read we upload with the 5% of confidence (not even) we have.

#tenya iida #tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #iida imagine #mha #bnha #bnha requests #mha requests #requests #iida tenya #tenya x reader #fluff

155 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Of Debts and Stress

Mary Saotome x She/Her Reader

A/N: Mary is such a great character like wth. I hope I did her some justice. There is a mention of characters from Kakegurui Twin, but the story takes place when Yumeko shows up in the main series. Thanks for reading! Word Count: ~8,929 (Me seeing this number for the first time: HOLY SHIT what have I done?! No wonder this took so long lol)

“Did you see the look on that loser’s face when I laid down that royal flush?” Mary laughed, her lips curled in a triumphant smirk as she descended the stairs with (Y/n) following close behind. “To see the light just drain out of his eyes after he realized that his full house was trash was just priceless,” she paused a moment at the bottom of the stairs, causing (Y/n) to bump into her before the blonde turned to face her. “Well, maybe not priceless, I guess you could say it was worth 5,000,000 yen!”

“Mary,” (Y/n) began, rubbing the back of her neck and shifting her eyes to watch other students climb the stairs, “It’s not like I’m not impressed or anything, but don’t you think you went a little too hard on the guy? I mean, he’s a house pet now.”

Mary’s smirk sunk into a frown as she crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the banister with a huff, looking up at the girl who still stood on the last step of the stairs, with a roll of her eyes, she replied, “He wanted to gamble, it’s not my fault if he didn’t weigh the rewards with the risk. Don’t be such a downer (Y/n), you’re really killing my mood here.”

“Sorry, I guess I just feel bad for him.”

“(Y/n), it’s all a part of how this fucked up school works. If you don’t like it, then why the hell did you even apply?” Mary threw her arms up in aggravation.

“Hey, do you think you two could move? You’re blocking half the staircase.” a student called impatiently from behind (Y/n).

“Can’t you see we’re talking here?” Mary glared at a spot above (Y/n)’s head, “Just go around us, idiot!”

The student grumbled, but clumsily made his way through the students that were walking up the stairwell.

“Maybe we should keep walking,” (Y/n) smiled sheepishly, crooking one of her arms with Mary’s and pulling her away from the stairs and towards the school entrance.

“Hey, let go!” Mary pushed out of the hold, blushing furiously, before clearing her throat and giving (Y/n) a side glance as the other girl laughed good-naturedly. “You haven’t gambled yet today, shouldn’t you have at least one match to make sure you don’t fall behind in the rankings?”

“I don’t feel like gambling today,” (Y/n) shrugged, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You better get your act together or you’ll end up a mittens,” Mary warned.

“Sorry I’m not into high stakes gambles. I’d rather win a little at a time than blow it all away on one game,” (Y/n) explained.

“Ha, that new poochie should have taken a page out of your book,” Mary grinned, but sobered quickly, “But seriously, don’t fall too far behind or I’ll have to leave you to the dogs, got it?” She punctuated her words with a sharp poke to (Y/n)’s chest.

“Ow! Okay, okay, I get it!” (Y/n) sighed, and rubbed the sore spot.

“And if you need any, you know, help, with your gambles tomorrow I wouldn’t be adverse to it,” Mary added, pretending to look disinterested and aloof.

“Aww Mary, are you saying you’d cheat for me? I’m touched,” (Y/n) smiled.

“I’ve changed my mind. You are on your own,” Mary glared and snarled beneath the blush that dusted her cheeks.

“Damn it.”

“Serves you right.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” (Y/n) asked as they neared the dorms.

“I suppose,” Mary replied while inspecting her nails. “Meet me in front of my dorm at 7:45 or I’m leaving without you.”

“I’ll be there, have a goodnight Mary!” (Y/n) waved before disappearing into the Tsubaki class dorms.

“‘Night,” Mary called over her shoulder as she made her way to the Hana dorm building.

The girls got ready for the night in there respective dorms and went to sleep, unaware of the major upset that would greet the student body of Hyakkaou Private Academy tomorrow.

***

“Heard you have a new transfer student in your class. Do they seem nice?” (Y/n) asked Mary as they ate their lunches.

“She’s whatever,” Mary shrugged. “Looks like easy money though, I’m gonna ask her to gamble after classes let out. Just wait until you see me wipe the floor with that airhead.”

“Aw, I actually have a few gambles of my own lined up unfortunately.”

“Tsk, whatever, I didn’t want you there anyway,” Mary sulked, picking at her leftovers.

“Hey, you’re the one who told me I needed to watch my ranking. Don’t blame me for simply following through on your advice. If I finish in the gambling den before you finish your game, I’ll be there to cheer you on!”

“You better not, it’s a gamble. You don’t need to act like a mom at a goddamn soccer game,” Mary huffed. “That being said, you better show up if you finish before me.”

“Yes ma’am,” (Y/n) mock saluted then winced and leaned into the table when Mary’s foot knocked painfully into her shin.

“I’ll see you after class, dummy,” Mary smiled smugly, raising from her chair. “Depending on how much money this girl bleeds, we can go do something this weekend, my treat,”

“Sounds like a date!” (Y/n) cheered, narrowly missing Mary’s attempt at a full body tackle. “See you later!” (Y/n) giggled and ran down the hall towards her class while Mary yelled obscenities behind her.

***

(Y/n) was pretty happy with herself, having won six out of seven games of blackjack and earning a modest 50,000 yen. Of course counting the cards had helped her odds, not that her opponents needed to know that. Honestly though, they were probably doing the same thing. It always came back to luck in the end.

(Y/n) hummed to herself as she made her way up the stairs to Mary’s classroom. She looked up when she heard echoing footsteps descending the stairs and was met with the boy Mary had turned into a house pet and a beautiful girl with flowing black hair she had never seen before.

“Oh, hello there!” The girl greeted. Ryota seemed to recognize (Y/n) as a friend of Mary’s though, and grew more nervous, (Y/n) gave him a sheepish wave she hoped conveyed her sympathy or could at least put the poor boy more at ease.

“Hi, you must be the new transfer student,” (Y/n) addressed Yumeko, “I hope no one has been giving you too hard a time,” (Y/n) could think of one prominent figure in her mind that would do such a thing and was ready to do damage control if need be.

“Oh, not at all! I’ve never felt more welcomed!” Yumeko smiled and grasped (Y/n)’s hand in hers. “Jabami, Yumeko,” she introduced herself, the ring on her thumb lightly digging into the skin of (Y/n)’s hand.

“(L/n), (Y/n),” she answered in return, giving Yumeko’s hand a friendly squeeze before withdrawing. “You don’t seem any worse for wear. I guess you survived Mary’s gambling challenge then?”

“Ah, you know Saotome? Yes, I’m looking forward to her paying me back, I hope we can gamble again sometime, she was so feisty!” Yumeko grinned, “You should join us next time as well!”

“Perhaps...” (Y/n) answered distractedly. Why would she need to wait for Mary to pay her back? “So is Mary still up there?”

“I believe so, it was nice meeting you, (Y/n)-san!”

“Yes, nice meeting you too. Uh, see you around Jabami, Suzui,” (Y/n) bowed her head and made her way up the rest of the stairs to the Hana classroom.

The room looked like a mess. Lingering students whispered their gossip but (Y/n) paid them no mind as she scanned the classroom for a familiar head of blonde hair.

“If you’re looking for Saotome you won’t find her here. She ran off, probably went to hide her shame,” one of the lingering students voiced once (Y/n) looked over the whole room.

(Y/n) leveled a soft glare at the student before turning to leave. Okay so she lost, so what? No one’s perfect, get off your high horse. (Y/n) thought as she continued down the hall and peeked into every empty classroom she passed. She was about to text Mary when she heard a huge crash come from the last classroom at the end of the hall.

She yanked the door open and saw a few toppled desks and Mary slouched against the wall with her face hiding in her arms, propped up by her knees that were pulled tightly against her chest.

“Mary, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What happened?” (Y/n) rushed to Mary’s side and knelt before her, careful to give the girl her space. Mary didn’t care for being coddled.

“Fuck off.” Mary’s voice croaked, muffled by her arms.

“Come on Mary, talk to me. I assume you lost, how bad was it really? 300,000? 400,000?”

“8.8 million,” came the subdued reply.

“Wh... what?” (Y/n) swears she must have heard wrong.

“Don’t make me fucking say it again.”

“Mary! What the hell were you thinking?!” (Y/n) gasped, worry gripping her heart. “8.8 million yen?!”

“Shut up!” Mary cried, “You think I don’t know how fucked I am?!”

“What are we going to do, Mary?”

“We aren’t doing anything. This is my problem,” Mary roared, shoving the closest toppled desk away with her foot.

“You can’t possibly come up with all that yen on your own before the rankings are updated. I can get you like, 1,000,000. It’s not much but it’s a start, and of course I’ll stay after school and-“

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want your pity!” Mary yelled, shooting up from the floor.

“Mary, you’re my friend, you are important to me, let me help you!” (Y/n) flung her hand out to catch Mary’s.

“I’ll get the money somehow. Just stay out of my way,” came Mary’s cold reply and she tugged her arm out of (Y/n)’s grasp.

“Mary, don’t do anything rash! Take a moment to just think about this. Your debt is bad, but if you don’t keep a level head, you’re bound to end up with something even more unmanageable!” (Y/n) warned.

“Just shut up already! You weren’t there so you don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do now,” Mary moved stiffly towards the door.

“Mary, stop!” (Y/n) called after the hot headed girl. Unfortunately Mary continued her fast pace down the hall and quickly disappeared around the corner. (Y/n) sighed to herself and rubbed at her irritated eyes. Her heart ached for Mary and the position she found herself in, but she was frustrated as well. Why couldn’t Mary just swallow her pride and accept her help?

(Y/n) rearranged the toppled desks and left the classroom with a heavy feeling in her chest. Hopefully she could sort things out with Mary tomorrow.

***

The next day (Y/n) waited outside of the Hana dorms for Mary like she did everyday, but the girl was not in her usual spot. (Y/n) waited, thinking she was simply running late, but as more time passed it was becoming more evident that Mary was either not coming out, or she was already gone.

(Y/n) couldn’t find her in the school, and Mary wasn’t answering any of her texts either. Meanwhile Jabami was busy making a first year cry. Sure that student council girl was practically begging for it with how obvious her cheating was, but even (Y/n) knew a line had been crossed.

The next morning (Y/n)’s wait for Mary was no better and yielded the same result. (Y/n) fired off another text. She’s at least looking at them.

“Oh! (Y/n)-san, good morning!” An airy voice giggled happily.

(Y/n) shifted her gaze and suppressed a scowl as Yumeko exited the dorm waving excitedly in her direction.

“Waiting for someone?” Yumeko asked, once she was standing within a foot of (Y/n), closer than (Y/n) cared for.

“I was, but I think she already left,” (Y/n) replied, trying very hard to be polite and not snap at the other girl.

“Oh, then we should walk together!” Yumeko clapped her hands together. “If you don’t mind waiting a little longer Ryota will be coming shortly... In fact I see him exiting the boy’s side now! Good morning, Ryota!”

Ryota jolted and swiveled his head up before waving shyly at Yumeko.

“Ryota is going to show me around more this morning, I’d love it if you could join us. It would be nice to have the perspective of someone from a different class as well,” Yumeko spoke excitedly to (Y/n).

“I can’t unfortunately, my first class starts in ten minutes,” (Y/n) informed, surprised at the sudden added weight as Yumeko clamped onto her side and whined loudly in her ear.

“But I really want you to come, (Y/n)-san! Since you aren’t in Hana class we won’t get to see each other often. Can’t you skip your class just this once?”

(Y/n) could easily skip class, but she was not willing to do it for the girl who ruined her best-friend-kinda-maybe-girlfriend’s life. She was about to insist she had to attend class when Ryota swooped in.

“It’s not uncommon for students to skip out on classes here. The teachers don’t really care as long as they’re getting paid. So I’m sure (L/n)-san could join us, right?” He smiled, nervously shifting his eyes from side to side.

Damn you, Suzui, Ryota.

“Well, I suppose just this once I could humor you,” (Y/n) gave a half hearted smile before her eyes went wide and her hands grasped at the arms wound tightly around her neck, shaking her excitedly.

“Yes! Thank you, (Y/n)-san, I’m sure we’ll have a marvelous time!” Yumeko cheered, rocking (Y/n) and throwing her off balance once she finally let go. “Where are we going today, Ryota?”

“I was thinking the path to the Traditional Culture Club would be a good place to visit today. It’s got beautiful scenery, don’t you think, (L/n)-san?” Ryota asked, offering (Y/n) a meek smile.

“I agree, the surrounding vegetation is lovely this time of year. It’s one of my favorite spots on campus actually,” (Y/n) supplied, noticing how Ryota seemed to straighten a bit, looking a tad more confident.

“Sounds wonderful, we’d best be on our way. Maybe I’ll find a gamble to partake in as well!” Yumeko thought dreamily, cupping her blushing cheek with her hand.

Ryota allowed himself an awkward chuckle while (Y/n) subtly pursed her lips, bringing her thoughts back to Mary’s absence as the trio made their way through campus.

“Wow, it certainly is lovely here. I can see why one would like such exquisite scenery,” Yumeko commented once they made it near the end of the path. “Oh, and this must be the club you were referring to?” She asked, pointing to the pleasant building resting below the trees.

“Yes, the Traditional Culture Club,” (Y/n) perked up a bit as a half baked plan formed in her mind. “You know Yumeko, you might actually get the chance to gamble in there.”

“Don’t tell her that!” Ryota blanched before directing his attention back to Yumeko, “I mean, the president of this club is also a part of the student council! You don’t want to make any more enemies than you already have, right Yumeko?”

“Gambling! You promise, (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked, a predatory gleam formed in her eyes that forced a shiver to run up and down (Y/n)’s spine.

“It’s a very real possibility as long as Nishinotouin-senpai is around. You could always drop by later if she’s not here,” (Y/n) answered candidly. Perhaps she shouldn’t be pushing Yumeko into the arms of danger, but she thought of it as payback for beating Mary so badly without even batting an eye or losing sleep over it.

“Ooo! I just have to go in, can we go in?” Yumeko clutched her hands together and bounced on the soles of her feet, a sight Ryota couldn’t seem to say no to. Not that (Y/n) could blame him as she also found the behavior rather adorable herself.

“Welcome to the Traditional Culture Club!” A member greeted the trio as they approached the door, “We have a match in progress already, but it should end shorty, if you don’t mind you can wait inside.”

“Certainly, we don’t mind at all!” Yumeko spoke.

The club member ushered them inside and (Y/n)’s mouth fell open in shock once she perceived the poor soul sitting across from Nishinotouin, Yuriko was none other than her dear friend Saotome, Mary.

“No, Mary,” (Y/n) couldn’t help but whisper to herself, “What are you doing?”

“She appears to be gambling, (Y/n)! She looks quite tense, wouldn’t you say?” Yumeko stage whispered back.

(Y/n)’s hands curled into fists as she stood by helplessly, watching Mary bet the remaining thirty-two chips she owned. Why would Mary do this after she told her not to do anything rash? (Y/n) waited, her breath stuck in her lungs as the dealer counted down until the reveal of the swords under the cup. When the obtrusion was lifted, (Y/n)’s eyes quickly scanned the board. There! A sword was stuck in slot twenty-two and Mary had bet six chips on it!

“But wait, that’s—!” (Y/n)’s hands flew to her mouth, unable to speak further.

“Twenty-two was a hit. Congratulations, Saotome,” Yuriko praised before her lips quirked further upward, “However, unfortunately for you, the judgement is death.”

Mary hunched over, looking desperately at the board while the dealer explained the penalty.

“Saotome bet six chips on twenty-two with a judgement of death. This requires the punishment of a loss thirty times greater then the chips placed, turning six chips to one hundred eighty chips. When factoring the wins on Yuriko-sama’s slots, the grand total for Saotome is a loss of 49.6 million yen!” The dealer calculated.

(Y/n)’s knees nearly gave out when she heard the final calculation and her heart hammered painfully against her chest.

“See her out, I’m done with her,” Yuriko smiled sinisterly, earning a pained roar from Mary as she was pulled back by standby club members.

“Perhaps you should go after her,” (Y/n) jumped when Yumeko came in close and whispered in her ear. “Ryota and I can catch up with you later, go take care of your friend,” Yumeko smiled and gave (Y/n)’s shoulder a squeeze.

(Y/n) barely spared Yumeko a second glance before running out after the club members escorting Mary off of the premises.

“Let her go, I’ve got her,” (Y/n) commanded sternly, pulling Mary away from the Culture Club members. She shot them one last glare before she turned on her heel and began dragging Mary away from the building. She only stopped once they were off the trail in one of the more secluded areas near the edge of the school forest.

(Y/n) tentatively let go of Mary and leaned back against the nearest tree, her chest heaving with shuddering breaths. What the hell now?

“Why?” She finally choked out, Mary’s fists curled at the single word and she had the audacity to scoff before trying to leave the forest. (Y/n) wasn’t having it however, and took hold of Mary’s bicep.

“Let go!”

“Why? So you can disappear on me again and rack up a 100 million yen debt?” (Y/n) spat, her grip tightening. “I told you not to act recklessly and you thought it was a good idea to go up against Nishinotouin?!”

“There was nothing else to do!” Mary yelled back, turning back to fully face (Y/n) and fisting her hand in the front of (Y/n)’s uniform blazer and pulling her closer to her angry golden eyes. “This was my only chance to get out of being a house pet, it was a risk I had to take!”

“I wish you would have talked to me! You know I only want to help you!” (Y/n) fought the stinging sensation building in her eyes and stood her ground.

“Oh really, how do you expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t see you being all chummy with Jabami and the dog in there. You know it’s because of her that I even had to instigate this match!”

“They roped me into coming along, it’s not like I had anything better to do since my best friend seemingly went missing yesterday, but it’s a good thing I came with them because it lead me straight to you.”

“Now what are you going to do, huh?” Mary’s grip tightened on the blazer, “Mock me like everyone else? Make me your own personal mittens and laugh with everyone while you tell me to do degrading things?”

“I’d never do that! You know I’ve never condoned that behavior, how could you think so lowly of me?” (Y/n) cursed herself as she felt a rebel tear escape and streak down her cheek. She moved her free hand to wipe it away, but Mary released her death grip on (Y/n)’s now thoroughly wrinkled blazer and beat her to it, wiping away the tear with the edge of her sleeve with a tenderness that (Y/n) almost never witnessed from the girl.

Mary’s touch lingered for a few moments, her golden eyes searched (Y/n)’s own, still glossy with unshed tears that threatened to join their fallen comrade.

“Fuck, stop that,” Mary admonished quietly, turning her gaze away.

“Stop what?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, feeling exasperated and unbelievably exhausted.

“Stop looking like you’re going to cry, damnit!” Mary exhaled sharply and pushed her bangs back, “I’m the one with the 50 million yen debt for fuck’s sake!”

“Yes, but you’re my closest friend Mary! You mean more to me then you’ll probably ever know and I’m so scared for you!” (Y/n) couldn’t hold the floodgates any longer, finally she allowed the the tears of stress fall in earnest. She released her hold on Mary’s bicep and rubbed her face roughly with her sleeve while trying to force the tears to stop.

“Quit that,” Mary ordered awkwardly, pulling (Y/n)’s arm away from her face, “You’ll just further irritate your skin.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to look like a hot mess?” (Y/n) sniffed.

“Just come here you idiot,” Mary groaned, her tone lacking any of its usual bite as she pulled (Y/n) to the ground and held her with her back against the trunk of the nearest tree and (Y/n) somewhat nestled between Mary’s legs and sitting at a side angle.

Mary released an annoyed sigh and (Y/n) squeaked as Mary roughly pushed the other girl’s head into her chest and persisted with her hold, an awkward hug which (Y/n) eagerly reciprocated seeing as Mary rarely was the first to engage any physical contact. “If you get any snot on my uniform, I’ll kill you,” she mumbled, nevertheless tightening her hold.

They stayed like that even after (Y/n) had managed to calm down. They sat quietly together under the glowing leaves of the tree. The only other sounds being the rustle of the wind and the occasional bird song mixed with the mingled breaths of the two Hyakkaou students.

“What time is it?”

(Y/n) had almost dozed off when Mary finally spoke. She reached into her blazer’s pocket and fumbled with her phone, wincing at the late afternoon hour.

“School let out twenty minutes ago. Hope you didn’t have anything important due today,” (Y/n) sighed, showing Mary the time displayed on her lock screen.

“Please, that’s the least of my worries right now,” Mary rolled her eyes.

“Right...”

“Hey, don’t you start that again. It was bad enough the first time,” Mary scolded.

“Sorry,” (Y/n) sniffed and collected herself again, shifting away from Mary a bit so they were face to face. “How about I make it up to you with late lunch/ early dinner, my treat?”

“No way,” Mary tisked, “I can pay for myself.”

“I know for a fact you can’t, you broke ass bitch,” (Y/n) attempted humor, her lips forming the faintest of smiles.

“Way to kick a girl while she’s down,” Mary turned her head away in an attempt to hide the self deprecating smirk that had manifested over her lips.

“I’ll let you pick what we eat and we’ll call it even,” (Y/n) replied as she got up on wobbly legs. She immediately missed the warmth that had accumulated between her and Mary over the last several hours. She offered Mary her hand and her heart leapt when Mary accepted the help without a second thought.

“Fine, whatever I pick, it’s going to be delivery.” Mary said, patting the dirt off of her skirt. “We look like we’ve been lost in the wilderness for five days.” She added, approaching (Y/n) to remove a leaf that had settled in her hair.

Like before, Mary’s hand lingered, slowly dropping lower until it cupped (Y/n)’s cheek. Mary didn’t even seem to register that she had done that, given the far away look in her eye.

(Y/n) could feel her skin catch fire under the brush of Mary’s thumb and cleared her throat, causing Mary to jolt her hand away embarrassed and internally fuming at herself.

“S-so let’s head back to my room, yeah? We can get cleaned up and watch some movies, just forget everything and everyone else for tonight. We can continue worrying tomorrow.” (Y/n) proposed.

“Yeah, sounds good. I know I don’t want to go back to the Hana dorms right now if I can help it,” Mary shrugged, her attempt at appearing disinterested thwarted by her reddened cheeks.

On their way back to the Tsubaki class dorms, Mary grumbled something about not getting there fast enough and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked. Mary picked up the speed a bit, but really made no difference that would cut down the time it would take to get back. (Y/n) didn’t comment on it though, instead opting to hum and gently swing their connected hands as they went.

When they got within view of the dorms, and all of the students milling about, Mary tugged her hand away and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, but continued to move alongside (Y/n) with a cute pout over her lips.

(Y/n) held her student ID against the panel near the door of the lobby and opened the door, ushering Mary inside. They took the elevator to the second floor, which housed the second year students of the Tsubaki class, and from there they headed to the girl’s wing.

When (Y/n) unlocked the door to her room, Mary pushed past her and flopped onto (Y/n) bed with a groan.

“Hey, You’re going to get dirt all over my comforter!” (Y/n) scolded half heartedly.

“Don’t care, I’m tired.” Mary smirked and took out her phone to scroll over dinner options. When she settled on one she tossed the phone at (Y/n) who fumbled with it before gaining a secure grasp over it. “You know what I like. You order while I take a shower.” Mary demanded as she walked away. “This stupidly rich school did one thing right when it fitted each room with its own bathroom.”

“Yeah, feel free to use whatever you need in there,” (Y/n) said distractedly as she scanned the menu. “Oh, and you can borrow some clothes to change into. The comfy stuff is in the two middle drawers.”

“Thanks.” Mary redirected her path to stop at the dresser and took a crewneck sweatshirt and a pair of shorts before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

(Y/n) placed an order for the food. When she was sure everything was in order, she closed the app and her breath caught in her throat.

Mary’s home screen was a picture that they took last year that included Mary, herself, Tsuzura, and Yukimi-senpai in their maid outfits. She smiled fondly at the memory, a bittersweet feeling forming in her heart as she made a mental note to talk to Tsuzura again soon. Though she missed her friend dearly, she knew she was much happier at her new school. It certainly was a less stressful environment to say the least.

(Y/n) locked the phone and placed it on her desk before plopping down into the desk chair and reaching for the tv remote to open her streaming service of choice.

“Showers’ free.” Mary sighed when she emerged from the bathroom, a wave of steam in her wake.

“Wow, just how hot was the water you were using?” (Y/n) asked with a chuckle.

“I’m sure there is still plenty of hot water left if that’s what you’re implying,” Mary said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, go get cleaned up, you’re a mess.”

“Ouch, okay,” (Y/n)’s hand flew to her chest in mock hurt briefly, “Expect a text in the next ten minutes or so for when the food gets here.”

“Got it,” Mary waved her hand dismissively and (Y/n) walked into the bathroom with an armful of fresh clothes.

By the time she was finished, Mary had the food set up in front of the tv and was lying along the full length of the couch scrolling through movie titles.

“Find anything you want to watch?”

“Meh, this one seems alright,” Mary scrolled back up and highlighted one.

“The Gamble Hole?” (Y/n) quirked a brow.

“What, you got a problem with it?” Mary grumped.

“No!” (Y/n) objected, holding her hands up defensively, “A fine choice, I just thought with- never mind. Just move your legs so I don’t break them when I sit on the couch.”

Mary scoffed and raised her legs, allowing (Y/n) just enough time to sit on the cushion before flopping her feet into (Y/n)’s lap. Mary then handed (Y/n) her food and started the movie.

They sat in comfortable silence, only broken occasionally by Mary dunking on the movie. Somewhere in the middle of the film, Mary got up to toss away their garbage and when she came back she had traded her feet’s previous positioning on (Y/n)’s lap with her head’s previous position on the arm of the couch.

Mary’s eyes dared (Y/n) to comment on the change in position, but (Y/n) let Mary have her peace and simply carded her fingers through Mary’s loose hair while turning her attention back to the movie.

One movie became two, two became three, and somewhere in the middle of that they had curled up on the couch and fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

Mary was the first to wake early the next morning. She had heard the faint tone of her phone’s alarm from (Y/n)’s bedroom where she had left it to charge and she groaned quietly to herself before untangling from (Y/n) to go turn it off.

“Hey, (Y/n), it’s time to get up.” Mary spoke gruffly, coming back into the main room to shake the other girl awake.

“Noooo,” (Y/n) groaned, curling into herself.

“C’mon, get ready or I’m leaving without you.” Mary warned. (Y/n) appeared to have dozed off again and Mary crossed her arms tightly over her chest and scoffed. “Fine, don’t get up. I’ll just go to school by myself and try another official match. I wonder if Yumemite is back from her tour yet.”

(Y/n) shot up from the couch and grabbed the hem of the crewneck Mary had borrowed. “Please don’t do that for the love of god!”

“Then get up and get ready to go, dumb ass. I still have to go back to my dorm for a clean uniform so I’ll meet you outside of the Hana building, got it?”

“You promise?” (Y/n) asked shyly, thinking back to the last two days when Mary hadn’t waited for her, avoided her.

Mary rolled her eyes and ruffled (Y/n)’s hair, “I promise, dummy.” Mary gathered her belongings and made her way to the door, “If you take too long I can’t say I’ll be able to keep that promise though.”

“I’ll be there!” (Y/n) called out just before Mary closed the door behind her. (Y/n) stood up from the couch and quickly began her morning routine and got dressed in a clean uniform. She grabbed her school bag and made sure she had her phone and ID before heading out.

(Y/n) hummed happily, swaying on her heels as she waited for Mary to come outside.

“You look very happy this morning, (Y/n)! It’s very sweet!”

(Y/n) was knocked out of her own little world when Yumeko seemingly appeared out of nowhere and linked arms with her.

“Ah Yumeko! You scared me.” (Y/n) exhaled, a hand over her heart.

“I apologize, (Y/n). Did you have a good night with Saotome?” Yumeko asked.

“How do you know about that?”

“I saw her walking back earlier. When I asked her if she was with you, she told me to keep my mouth shut and mind my own damn business. She’s so expressive!” Yumeko giggled.

“Uh huh,” (Y/n) smiled sheepishly. “So, um, how did your gamble with Nishinotouin-senpai go?”

“Oh, I lost unfortunately!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” (Y/n) felt a bit of guilt grip her heart. “I hope it wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“I’m 310 million yen in the hole!” Yumeko replied seemingly unbothered. In fact, she looked... happy?

“Three... three...” (Y/n) couldn’t even get the number out of her mouth, instead she kept opening and closing her mouth like a fish, occasionally mumbling a three while Yumeko smiled at her.

“Why the hell are you still standing out here?” Mary asked, irritation evident as she tugged (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s grasp.

“I was waiting for (Y/n) and Ryota! You as well Saotome, I’d love for us to be friends!” Yumeko answered.

“I’d rather die.” Mary sneered and made to tug (Y/n) towards the school but the girl was still dumbstruck and mumbling to herself. Mary snapped her fingers and waved in her face before turning back to Yumeko. “What the hell did you do to her?” She glared.

“Hmm? I don’t think I did anything.” Yumeko held a finger to her chin as she thought back.

“Whatever, just stay away from us! Got it?” Mary pushed passed Yumeko, pulling (Y/n) along and causing her to stumble behind her.

“See you later!” Yumeko waved.

***

Mary dragged (Y/n) into her classroom so she could get her stuff ready for class before going to get breakfast in the cafeteria. Her desk was still covered in marker but it hadn’t gotten worse since yesterday at least.

“I can help you clean it if you want.” (Y/n) asked, apparently she had finally sobered after the shock Yumeko had given her.

“Don’t bother, it would just encourage them to do it again and would make the effort a waste.” Mary shook her head and opened her desk, surprised to see an unfamiliar, thin journal sat neatly in the middle of her books and papers. “What the hell is this?” She muttered, turning it in her hands. The words ‘life plan’ shimmered in the light along with Mary’s name stenciled neatly below.

“Isn’t that the student council seal?” (Y/n) wondered, pointing to the golden insignia on the back.

Mary opened the thin journal and scanned the pages, becoming more agitated as she read. What’s this about an arranged marriage? Children? What kind of sick joke-

Mary slammed her fist on her desk, making (Y/n) jump. “This is bullshit! They can’t do this!”

“Mary-“ (Y/n) reached a hand out as the blonde strode away from her desk, the life plan held tightly in her hand. (Y/n)’s hand just missed Mary’s sleeve and Mary turned once she stood at the classroom door.

“I need to pay the student council a visit. I’ll see you after class.” Mary spoke before turning back and began walking briskly down the hallway.

“Be careful!” (Y/n) called back to her, rushing to the door to watch Mary stalk away.

With Mary gone, (Y/n) had no other choice but to move on to the cafeteria herself. She grabbed something she could eat quickly before heading to her classroom.

(Y/n) groaned inwardly once she reached the door, Kiwatari was already there raising hell as always.

“Kiwatari, isn’t it a little early to be an asshole?” (Y/n) asked, placing her bag on her desk hook.

“What’s it to you, (L/n)? ‘m just playing with my pets.”

“Class is about to start and as class rep, I must ask that you refrain from harassing people getting ready for class. House pets included.” (Y/n) spoke resolutely, using what she called her, ‘Igarashi, Sayaka voice’ and gave a sympathetic once over to Tsubomi who stood with her head held low.

“Tsk, uptight bitch” Kiwatari muttered, giving Tsubomi one last shove as he made his way to his seat.

(Y/n) frowned deeply but did not intervene again. She would rather not be stuck on that pig’s radar by getting overly involved in his business. So, she held her tongue and waited for the teacher to enter in the next few minutes. However, just before roll call, the intercom system crackled to life and the voice of the student council secretary greeted the student body.

Igarashi had made an announcement explaining that an opportunity had arose for those who had debts to pay and those interested were to come to the assembly room for more information.

(Y/n) had no debts to participate in such an event, but she left with the small group in her class because she was almost certain Mary would attend the meeting, and right she was.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mary muttered quietly when (Y/n) came up to her.

“Well, I figured you’d be here when I heard the announcement. How did your talk with the student council go?”

“Shitty. Now be quiet so I can focus on what she’s saying.” Mary gestured towards the front of the room where Igarashi had just stepped up to the podium.

“Welcome students,” Igarashi smiled politely, “Our president has brought to fruition an opportunity that could very well change your lives as you know them. A gamble that could free you from your chains of servitude, or send you plummeting further into despair. Should you choose to compete, the game of choice will be ten rounds of Indian Poker. You will be divided into groups of four. Each person’s chip’s worth will depend on their accumulated debt. You may place whatever amount of debt you wish to wager with on your provided card. We look forward to your participation in the Great Debt Swapping Game.”

“Ooo, this should be a lot of fun!”

Mary and (Y/n) jumped as a head popped between them and an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders.

“Get the hell off me!” Mary growled, pushing Yumeko off. “What are you even doing here anyway?”

“Oh, did (Y/n) not tell you? I’m over 300 million yen in debt!” Yumeko cheered.

“As if I care, you know-“ Mary paused and did a double take at Yumeko, “Did you just say— Fuck you!” Mary turned back towards to front absolutely seething.

“Awww why is Saotome mad at me, (Y/n)?” Yumeko pouted and hung off the other girl while (Y/n) struggled to escape her grasp.

“My best guess would be she’s pissed that you beat her and put her in debt and then not even three days later you lost, and lost badly at that. Mary is probably taking that as a severe insult to not only her gambling skill, but also her pride.” (Y/n) said thoughtfully.

“I could do without the analysis, (Y/n)!”

“I found that quite helpful and I feel closer to Saotome for it, thank you (Y/n)!” Yumeko smiled sweetly at (Y/n) before directing her attention back to Mary. “Don’t feel bad Saotome, had an outside party not gotten involved in my gamble, Nishinotouin-senpai would have found herself in my position I’m sure!”

“Do you not know what personal space is?” Mary griped, stepping away from Yumeko once again.

“The groups have been randomly set,” Igarashi’s voice rolled over the assembly hall once more and she began listing off the groups, “...Next we have Saotome Mary, Jabami Yumeko, Kiwatari Jun, and Tsubomi Nanami. The following group consists of...”

“Did you hear that Saotome? We’re in the same group! How lucky!” Yumeko invaded Mary’s space once more, smiling even more brilliantly.

“Of course we are. Why am I not surprised.” Mary moved to the other side of (Y/n) to put some distance between herself and Yumeko. By doing so she noticed the thoughtful, far away look (Y/n) currently held. “Hey, what’s up?” her voice was a little gruff but held an undertone of affection.

“The other people in your group are in my class. I can understand why Tsubomi would be here, as she’s a house pet, but Kiwatari has no outstanding reason to compete that I’m aware of.” (Y/n) shifted her weight and looked at the two Hana class students, her expression serious. “I may not know his plan, but I can almost guarantee you that he will be using Tsubomi as an accomplice of sorts to achieve his goal.”

“Oh my, are you sure about this (Y/n)?” Yumeko tilted her head.

“Kiwatari has been making Tsubomi’s life hell for a long time now. Her will has been severely damaged if not completely destroyed by him. She’ll probably do what he says because she finds it easier then fighting back. Which is why I think...” (Y/n) drifted off, her eyes moving to look exclusively at Mary who immediately let out a strangled, agitated noise.

“Alright, I see where this is going and I don’t like it but...” Mary sighed “You aren’t going to let me continue on unless I do this, aren’t you?”

“That would be correct.” (Y/n) nodded.

Yumeko kept looking between the two, her expression one of mild confusion.

“Jabami,” Mary finally spat.

“Yes?”

“Will you work with me for this gamble.” Mary gritted out.

“Oh Saotome! I’d be honored to be your partner!” Yumeko clapped, “Was this your plan (Y/n)? Thank you for making this gamble so much more interesting!”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Students began filling out the assembly hall to fill out their debt cards and (Y/n) looked over the two girls nervously. “They aren’t going to let outside parties watch these matches and I should really get back to class. You two should hurry so you can get your cards and come up with a strategy.”

“What do you look so worried for?” Mary scoffed, messing up (Y/n)’s hair, “You already gave me an edge over the competition, if you think I’m still going to lose after that you’re really pissing me off.”

“Don’t worry (Y/n), I’ll take good care of Mary-san!” Yumeko butted in.

“Shut up, Jabami.”

“I hate that you’re taking this risk, but I believe you can win. So I’ll try not to stress over it too much. You’ll come find me when it’s over, right?” (Y/n) asked.

“Where else would I go, dummy?” Mary rolled her eyes and turned away, Yumeko hot on her heels. “I’ll see you later.” She added, her words sounding much less harsh. Yumeko waved excitedly then turned to catch up with Mary’s strides.

***

(Y/n) was surprised when at her break, Ryota had come to her class looking for her with another student.

“You (L/n), (Y/n)?” The other student asked.

“Yes, and what may I ask is this about?”

“I’ve got a check for Suzui here. However it was also requested that you be present as a witness to the transaction. Since you’re here,” he pulled an envelope from his blazer and handed it to Ryota, “I can give Suzui the check. Have a good day.” The student nodded before exiting the classroom.

“What’s this about, Suzui?” (Y/n) asked.

“I wish I knew.” Ryota scratched his head. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

“Well, I guess you should open it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ryota tore open the seal and pulled the check out. It took a moment but once the amount registered in their minds, Ryota and (Y/n) both screamed.

“How the hell did you get all that money, Suzui!? Did you kill someone? Several someones!?” (Y/n) asked nonplussed.

“I- I didn’t do anything! ...I think!? This must be a joke, right? Is this a prank, (Y/n)? Did Saotome-san put you up to this?”

“No, of course not!”

“This can’t be real. I should really just throw it out.” Ryota sighed tiredly.

“Wait,” (Y/n) stopped him from crinkling up the paper, “Don’t do anything just yet. Keep it until the end of the day at least. Meet me back here and then we can decide what to do with it if no new info comes up. Just keep it safe until then.”

“Alright, I can do that.” Ryota appeared to be sweating. “Nothing stressful about carrying an obscene amount of mysterious money that may or may not be real.”

“If it really bothers you that much I can hold onto it until then.” (Y/n) offered.

“Please!” Ryota quickly shoved the paper into (Y/n)’s hand without a second thought.

“Alright, I’ll see you here after school, okay?” (Y/n) asked as she tucked the paper into the front of her blazer.

“Right!” Ryota answered, his shoulders slumped as the tension holding the check had brought left.

***

The rest of (Y/n)’s classes slugged by, the weight of the check against her chest becoming heavier with each hour dragging by and thoughts of Mary plagued her mind. Was she doing okay?

Finally the last class had wrapped up for the day and (Y/n) rubbed her palms roughly over her eyes. She felt exhausted.

A few minutes later, Ryota arrived and sat in the desk next to hers looking just as tired.

“So, what now?” He asked.

(Y/n) released a joyless hum as she removed the check from her blazer and looked over it again. “I don’t know. I did some research about counterfeit checks and it appears to be legitimate. I’m just worried about what this money could mean. You don’t just have this kind of cash fall into your lap for free.”

“Aha! They’re in here Mary-san!” Yumeko suddenly appeared in the doorway, a little out of breath.

“Yumeko!” Ryota greeted her happily.

“Yumeko! How did the gamble go? Where’s Mary?” (Y/n) asked.

“I’m right here, dummy.” Mary appeared in the doorway looking a little out of breath herself, “If you two didn’t make us need to run around the school, we could have met up sooner.”

Mary stalked over to Ryota and (Y/n) and she practically dropped to the floor in relief. “Thank god you have it!” Mary took the check from (Y/n)’s hand and kissed (Y/n)’s cheek without even having it register in her mind as she looked over the check before pressing it to her chest like a precious artefact. “I told Yumeko to just have it sent to you, but she insisted Suzui hold onto it for god only knows why.”

(Y/n) just stared at Mary absolutely dumbfounded, her hand that once held the check now pressed to her warm and tingling cheek.

“What? What’s with the face?” Mary asked with a quirk of her brow.

“I I I- You, um,” (Y/n) stuttered, unable to find her words.

“Oh, you saw the money did you?” Mary smirked, “Impressive, isn’t it?”

“You mean the money is yours?” Ryota asked, “That makes more sense now I guess, but how’d you get all that?”

“The Debt Swapping Game, of course!” Mary scoffed, “Honestly Jabami, did you tell him anything about what we were doing?”

“I saw no need to. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” Yumeko smiled brightly.

“Wait wait, you won?” (Y/n) stared up at Mary with cautious awe. “That check is what you won in the gamble?”

Mary stared back, smug and looking oh so happy with herself. “Yeah, it’s the last time you’ll see me wearing one of these eye sores.” Mary tugged the house pet tag off of her neck and tossed it into the garbage.

“You won! You won!” (Y/n) cheered and shot up out of her desk. She wrapped her arms around Mary and bounced her around while laughing joyously.

“Hey! Calm down!” Mary blushed, and pushed (Y/n) by the shoulders to try to stop her jostling movements.

“This is fun!” Yumeko joined in from behind Mary, wrapping her arms around her neck and bouncing in time with (Y/n) who was still vigorously celebrating.

“Alright that’s enough, get off!” Mary elbowed Yumeko in the stomach and pushed (Y/n) half an arm’s length away. “A little space would be-“

(Y/n) cupped half of Mary’s face with her hand and landed a quick kiss on Mary’s cheek before pulling away completely. She continued to dance around the classroom, feeling heat run through her face and a rush of giddiness. Her smiling lips still tingling from the brief contact. Yumeko skipped with (Y/n) around the classroom, still happy to revel in the celebration that was dangerously close to becoming excessive.

“Hu... Hey!” Mary finally regained her bearings, her shoulders stiff and face red, watching (Y/n) and Yumeko make their way across the front of the room.

Mary’s voice forced (Y/n) to a sudden halt, causing Yumeko to bump into her, but she too stopped to look curiously at Mary.

“What the hell was that?” Mary glared at (Y/n), her arms crossed tightly over her blazer.

(Y/n) didn’t even try to act dumb, it would have been unwise based on how intently Mary was staring at her. “I, um, I was just returning the favor.”

“What favor?” Mary stared incredulously.

“Mary-san, don’t say you forgot already! That would just be cruel.” Yumeko pouted and pulled (Y/n) into her arms and pat her head affectionately. “If I were to kiss (Y/n), I certainly wouldn’t forget.” Her words causing (Y/n) to duck out of her reach to try to cover her bashfulness.

“I think I’m gonna go home?” Ryota looked over the three girls, his face plainly showed how weird he found the whole scene to be. “Uh, yeah, see you guys tomorrow.” He waved awkwardly before darting out the door.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mary continued, not even acknowledging Ryota’s exit.

“Mary, you kissed me when you took the check from me...” (Y/n) shyly pointed to her cheek, her eyes focusing in the opposite corner of the room from Mary. Yumeko hummed and nodded affirmingly.

“I did not I-“ Mary’s skin gained a few darker shades of red and she stood statue still and just as stiff, her eyes lit up as if recalling a distant memory. (Y/n) and Yumeko watched from the front of the classroom, waiting to see what would become of the blonde who seemed to be trapped in her own mind.

“I wonder if we broke her.” Yumeko mused, a finger tapping lightly over her lips.

After a few more moments, Mary’s head shot up, her eyes immediately connecting with (Y/n)’s startled ones. “Get over here.” Mary commanded, her voice tight and low.

(Y/n) gulped and quickly made her way to stand in front of her friend, not wanting to risk an impatient reprimand for stalling. “Y...Yes, Mary?” she asked, meekly.

“Closer.”

(Y/n) took another tentative step forward. Mary sighed and pulled (Y/n) in by the blazer until their noses grazed, eliciting a surprised squeak from the other girl. Mary tilted her head and kissed (Y/n)’s cheek again, lingering a bit longer than she had with the first one.

“Can I have one, Mary-san?” Yumeko called from her spot against the front wall.

“No! Why are you even still here, read the room and go home already!” Mary blushed, nevertheless keeping her hold on (Y/n)’s blazer.

“Oh my, are you planning to be more intimate right now? I suppose it is a little early in our relationship for me to bare witness to such displays. I’ll see you two tomorrow!” Yumeko hummed happily as she exited the classroom, pulling the door close behind her.

“Why did you have to word it like that, you fucking weirdo!” Mary yelled after Yumeko, but she was already gone.

Mary turned back to (Y/n) and released another sigh. “Do that thing again.”

(Y/n) stared at Mary inquisitively for a moment before realization dawned over her. She smiled and gently pressed another kiss over Mary’s cheek.

Mary took a moment to clear her throat after (Y/n) pulled away before speaking, “Thanks. Thanks for that and uh, not leaving me behind as a house pet.” She mumbled.

“Anytime.” (Y/n)’s features grew soft. “Thanks for letting me back in.”

“So listen,” Mary began, her tone made room for no nonsense, “First thing tomorrow I’m paying back the student council and then I’ve got to give Jabami some fair compensation for teaming up in the debt game, but after classes do you want to go somewhere, just us? Like we were supposed to do before Jabami ruined everything.”

“Isn’t it usually just us when we go do stuff?” (Y/n) chuckled and smiled innocently at Mary’s warning look.

“Hey, with Jabami and the dog- ugh, Suzui, always popping up these days, they’d probably invite themselves along. I’m just trying to cover all my bases.”

“So, it’s a date then?” (Y/n) asked, trying to keep her emotions under the surface as to not get her hopes too high, to not show her disappointment should Mary deny it.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

(Y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a date. Officially I guess.” Mary shrugged.

(Y/n) hugged Mary so hard, she nearly suffocated her, but Mary didn’t complain. Instead, she hugged back just as hard and hid her smile in (Y/n)’s hair.

#Kakegurui oneshots #Kakegurui x reader #Mary Saotome x reader #Maeri Saotome x reader

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theoreticslut · 4 years

Text

The Truth that you Deny // Part 1

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

word count: 2,644

warnings: none, fluff

A/N: apologies that this is a day late! I wasn’t feeling great yesterday, but i’m posting it now so I hope you all like it! also, i don’t have a lot of followers yet, but if you like my wrting and/or just this imagine maybe I could start a taglist?? let me know what you think!

“I don’t know what to do anymore, steph. I don’t understand this at all.” You pout, sighing as you lean back in your chair.

You’d been studying for hours now, which is the last thing you wanted to do on a Saturday, and the only thing you’ve managed to do is waste time and get maybe one or two questions/paragraphs done on a number of assignments. You had yet to actually complete anything.

Stephanie looks at you frowning, more than just a little bit annoyed with you.

“Maybe it’d help if you didn’t drift off thinking about your little crush every five minutes.”

“Who?” You ask, having not been paying attention.

“You’re seriously going to play dumb right now? We both know who you’re constantly thinking about.”

“I honestly don’t.”

“Oh come on, y/n. You so totally have a crush on the twins!”

“I do not. Why would you even think that?” You scoff. You, Stephanie, Katie, Lee, and the twins have been friends since first year and you had never once mentioned having a crush on either of them. Sure you might’ve been quiet and distracted around them sometimes, but you get stressed about school so easily. You spend most of the time worrying about grades and whether you know the material. In fact, while the twins were amazing friends, their pranks often drove you insane.

“Why would I think that? Y/n, have you seen the way you look at them? Do you even realize what you say to them?”

“What do you mean? I don’t say anything different to them than I do you.”

“Uh, yeah. You do. You are way nicer to them then you are me or katie or Lee. Remember when gryffindor won the last quidditch game and you couldn’t tell Fred and George enough how well they did?”

“Well they did. I was just saying the truth. It was a really good game.” You defend, not liking how steph seems to be grilling you for a yes.

“Okay, well then how about when either of them show up you’re suddenly ten times happier then you were beforehand?” She looks at you smugly like she knows she’s correct.

“Afternoon, ladies.” Fred greets as both him and George suddenly appear and sit down at the table you and Steph were studying at.

“Hey guys,” you smile catching the knowing look Steph throws your way. You roll your eyes at her and turn your attention to the twins. She can believe whatever she pleases, but it still doesn’t make it true.

“Are you girls studying?” George asks, a hint of disgust in his tone.

“Trying to. I’m not having much luck.” You sigh, throwing a playful glare at your best friend which doesn’t go unnoticed by any of them.

“Well then how about you put it away and come play a game of quidditch with us?” Fred asks, hope glowing on his face.

You sigh as frown takes hold of your face. If only you had gotten all this done already, or even better, didn’t have it to begin with.

“I’d love too, but I really need to get all of this done. I can’t put it off any longer.”

Both twins join as you pout. You know that they know that you’d absolutely love to play. While you hadn’t made the team (because you never tried out), you loved playing and were even really good at it.

You had surprised the twins over summer break two years ago when you visited the burrow for a week. Obviously since all the Weasley’s love playing quidditch and it’s almost a daily occurrence, it was bound to happen that they’d play a game while you were there. However, they really needed another player so you joined in and gave them all a run for their money (if only you had placed bets beforehand). Since then, the twins love asking you to play because you’re actually a bit of competition to them.

“Not even one game?” George asks, leaning towards you ever so slightly to try to catch your eye.

“Guys, I...no.” You sigh, frustrated that the professors gave you this much homework to begin with.

“Honestly, I’d love to play. You both know that, but I really need to get this done. Maybe tomorrow?” You ask.

“How about you put this up for awhile, come and play a game of quidditch with us, and then you finish this tomorrow?” Fred asks, looking to persuade you.

“You’re too persuasive for your own good, Weasley. As much as I’d love to play, I really ought to get this done or else I’m just going to be worrying about it tomorrow.”

“What if we study with you?” George asks, catching all of your attention.

“You two studying? That’s a really good one, George.” Stephanie replies, saying exactly what you were thinking.

“I’m serious,” he chuckles. “Believe it or not.”

“If we were to study with you later tonight and tomorrow, would you come and play a game with us?” He asks, giving his best impression of a sad puppy dog.

“George, I can’t. I’m already so behind and I want to make sure that I don’t fail. We do have the O.W.L.s this year you kn-“

“Pleeeeeease.” Both the twins beg, cutting you off.

“No, I-“

“Pleeeeeease.”

“It’s just one game, I promise.” George pouts.

You look over at Steph who’s only smirking and shaking her head at you, knowing you can’t say no. You hate that you can tell what’s she’s thinking with just that expression; ‘this is your problem, sweetie. Your the one that likes them.’

You roll your eyes at her again, mentally thanking her for all the help and give in.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll play one game.” you agree.

“Yes!” The twins shout simultaneously, high-fiving across the table.

“But you both better keep your word and study with me or else I won’t play with you again.” you threaten, even though it sounds empty even to you.

“Of course we will, gorgeous. We wouldn’t want our little lion cub upset.” Fred smirked, winking at you and George as you groan at their nickname for you.

Another lovely thing that’s come out of your few visits to the burrow. After another one of your empty threats, George laughed and made the point that even though you try to come off strong and threatening, you often fall short and sound like a child who just doesn’t quite have the bite to back up the bark. And since you’re all in gryffindor together, they made the connection to a lion cub.

Since then, it’s been expanded upon given different circumstances. Like when you were standing up for Ron one time, it changed to mumma lion. Then another time when you were confronting a girl that had been spreading rumors about one of your other friends, the twins joked about how you had become a lioness. So while it’s not your favourite nickname, it isn’t the worst one that you could’ve gotten and it’s only ever used by Fred, George and occasionally their family.

“You better watch it, Freddie.” You warned as you started packing up your books.

~.~

“And that’s another point for Y/n’s team!”

“Bloody hell, y/n. Give us a chance would you.” Fred nearly begs, rubbing his side where you may have just hit a bludger into him.

“You guys begged me to play and you both know that I don’t play nice.” You retort, not feeling any remorse.

You’d deny it if someone pointed it out, but the truth is you are extremely competitive, no matter the situation as long as it interests you. Quidditch? Bloody hell, you’d think your life depended on you winning. Proving to Lee that you could out drink him? You better have a full bottle of replenishing potion because you are going to have one of the worst hangovers of your life. Basically, if you were presented any sort of challenge, you tackled it head-on.

“He’s just upset that he’s losing. You know how he is.” George says, winking at you as his brother grumbles to himself.

“Want to play once more and whoever gets the point wins? I’m getting awfully tired.”

“Sounds good to me.” George nods.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Fred grumbled as he and George fly back to their positions.

~.~

“Oh bloody hell” you grumble as you wake up and stretch. You don’t often play quidditch, therefore you’re a little out of shape and currently very sore.

That doesn’t even take into account that you stayed up much later than you should have last night trying to get something done.

You groan as you roll over to look at the clock to find it to be 8 AM. You’d certainly love to sleep in a bit more, but if you didn’t get a move on you’d miss breakfast and that’s the last thing you need to do if you were going to be studying with Fred and George today. You loved them, but boy could they get in your nerves sometimes. You didn’t need to be hungry on top of it.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you change into a pair of leggings and an oversized black sweater that tends to hang off one shoulder. You pull on your favourite pair of black heeled boots and move onto brushing your hair and apply the minimal makeup you’re comfortable wearing.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. You look like your ready to spend the day studying with Fred and George.” Steph teased as you sit down next to her.

“Let me eat first, and hopefully get a cup of coffee. Then you can taunt me all you want.” You say, rubbing at your eyes as you’re not quite awake yet.

“Take my fun away.” She pouts, picking up a bite of pancake with her fork.

“But seriously, how are you feeling about today? You get to spend ALL the quality time with your boys as you like.”

She smiles, staring at you to see your reaction.

“I don’t like them like you’re implying, Stephanie. How many times do I have to tell you?” You huff, taking a sip of your much needed cup of coffee.

“Yeah-huh. You keep telling yourself that. Eventually you’ll believe it.”

“Maybe eventually you’ll get the hint.” You grumble, moodily stabbing a piece of pancake yourself.

“Someone seems to be in a mood this morning.” Fred states as he and George sit down across from you two.

You send a glare over at him as you continue eating your breakfast.

“Definitely. What have we missed already this morning?” George asks, looking from you to Stephanie as he gets himself a cup of coffee.

“Someone is denying that she has feelings for a couple certain people when it’s glaringly obvious.” Stephanie states.

“Ooh, who does our little lion cub have a crush on? Anyone we know?” Fred asks, not missing the opportunity to try and tease you.

“Steph just needs to learn how to take no as an answer. I’ve already told her that I do not, in fact, have feelings for them, but she can’t seem to accept that.”

“Again, who are they?” Fred asks.

“Don’t worry about it because I don’t like them. And even if I did I’m positive neither of them would see me in the same way so it really doesn’t matter whatever way you try to look at it.” You rant, stabbing your fork into some scrambled eggs.

You notice Fred and George share a look that can only be translated to ‘well she isn’t having a good morning. Yikes.’ You huff as you continue eating in silence, feeling all three of them look at you.

~.~

“Y/n, what does this even mean?” Fred asks exasperatedly.

“What does what mean, Freddie?” You sigh, looking up from your own parchment where you are attempting to write a paper for Potions.

“I don’t know. I can’t make sense of any of it anymore.” He pouts.

“Well then I don’t know how to help you.” You say, watching as he pouts in frustration.

“What about you, Georgie? How is everything going?” You ask, looking over to find George staring down at his parchment.

“Uh, decent?” He asks, seeming awfully confused.

“You two are some of the worst study partners around. How have you made it this far, honestly?” You chuckle, leaning back in your chair.

“Our charm and wit.” George jokingly says, winking at you which only causes you to laugh a bit more.

“Why don’t we take a break for awhile? We’ve been working at this for nearly two hours now.” Fred sighs.

You look over at him and give him a small smile. You honestly can’t believe that both of them came along with you and haven’t done much complaining until now. Neither of these boys liked their homework much, in fact it was rare to find them ever working on it.

“You two can if you’d like. I’m nearly done with this paper and if I stop now I’ll forget what I was doing.”

“Then finish the paper and then we’ll all take a break.” He smiles.

I shake my head as I smile back at him and continue working on my potions paper. I just need another paragraph or two to finish it off and then I’m early done with all of my work.

“There, done.” I say as I set my quill down. I lean back to find both of the twins staring at me.

“What?”

“Who were you and Stephanie talking about over breakfast?” Fred asks, a smile on his lips yet he sounds fairly serious, not trying to joke around at all.

“Back to this again?” You sigh, tossing your head back in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter, Freddie. Let it go.”

“C’mon y/n, we’re just curious. Maybe we could help you find out if they like you back.” George offers.

“Yeah, you’re one of our best friends, y/n and you deserve to be with someone that makes you happy.” Freddie says, looking directly at you.

“Besides, you haven’t ever been with anyone at all have you? Like not even just dating?” He adds on.

“No, and I don’t really care to. I’ve got too many other things on my mind.” You say, still ignoring the main question at hand here.

“You have no interest at all? Really?” Fred asks knowing otherwise. You know both of them have heard you talk about guys before with the other girls and you all know that you’ve said not once, but multiple times, that you can’t wait to have a boyfriend to cuddle with and to just love.

“Can’t we just drop it? I really don’t want to talk about it. Steph’s made it into a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

You look at George for some sort of support. You know he and his brother are very much alike, but he’s always been a bit

more considerate when it comes to things people don’t feel like sharing.

“If it’s not a big deal, then why don’t you just tell us? No big deal, no harm in telling right?” George asks, doing the complete opposite of what you were hoping.

“I don’t want to talk about it because if I do I’m afraid...well, I’m afraid it’ll make everything more complicated that what I want to deal with.” You truthfully state.

Both twins watch you as you go silent again, not meeting either of their gazes. If they had known it was this difficult for you to acknowledge, then they wouldn’t have pushed it so much, but here you all were; past that line that pushes your relationship with each other into uncharted territory. You guys don’t share your emotions with each other like this, so now that you have, where do you all go from here?

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george #Fred and George weasley x reader #weasley twins #fluff #harry potter fluff #part 1 #imagines #fred weasley imagine #george wealsey imagine

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Naked To the One You Love

by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #46: They really do toast privately in CF – Katniss wearing an orange dress for Peeta and Peeta making cheese buns for Katniss. They wanted something their own. No one knows about it and there’s no baby (as far as they know) but how would this change their relationship? How they make their decisions? Would anyone actually believe them when she gets to District 13? [submitted by anonymous]

Peeta, with the help of Prim and Rye has the perfect day planned for he and Katniss. This is the day they will finally have their toasting. Will everything go as perfectly as Peeta planned it?

This story goes hand-in-hand with my current WIP called, “Another Way Out.” If you want to read more, you can find it on AO3 and FFN.

Word Count: 5768

Rated: M for fluff and smut and lemons.

Warning: Adult content below

Un-beta’d, all mistakes are mine

Naked To the One you Love

| Peeta |

“What are we doing?” Katniss asks as I lead us toward the meadow. It’s early still, the sun barely making its presence known along the horizon as it bleeds its hues of purples, oranges, and pinks into the morning sky.

“Having breakfast,” I tell her simply, shivering from the cold.

“In the snow?” She quibbles, rubbing her hands together to warm them up. I sneak my arm around her shoulder and pull her close. She allows it, pressing her popsicle nose into my neck.

“Just be quiet and follow me,” I tell her, which grants me a scowl— no surprise there. When we finally reach our tree, we climb up and I surprise her by opening the door to our tree house.

“Wow, it’s a lot bigger than last time,” she smiles, looking around the tiny room to inspect my handy work. It was only a little more than a week ago when I found a large plank and, with Rye’s help we got it to the top of this tree. Using some of my dad’s tools, I nailed the plank to one of the sturdier branches. Each day since then I have come out here, adding more planks to it, and now it looks like a tiny little house. Or well, well … more like one … very small room of a rather tiny house. It is just spacious enough for the two of us to stretch out comfortably, but it’s a place of our own, somewhere to go when we need to get away. It’s the closest we can get to the woods since the fence is electrified twenty-four-seven now.

We spend the morning in our little makeshift tree home, enjoying the breakfast I packed and watching the miracle of another sun rise. After surviving the games with the love of your life, you learn to appreciate the little things in life. Like sunrises and sunsets. Like sharing meals with your loved ones. Things you didn’t think were important before suddenly become of the utmost importance. So, Katniss and I bask in the warmth from the sun and just enjoy being together like this. With no cameras and no Haymitch. No Effie or prep teams chasing our tails and scolding us about schedules. As much as we love and adore all of them, it’s nice to have a break from them. Finally, it’s just us, which is just the way I like it.

“I think it’s time to get Prim,” Katniss tells me when she sees the sun positioned above the bakery. It always amazes me how she knows what time it is by the position of the sun.

I frown and jut my lip out, exaggerating my disappointment. “No, not yet. Just one more minute,” I whine, leaning in for a kiss.

“Come on Peeta, I don’t want Prim walking home alone.” Katniss contests, squirming out of my arms. As much as I don’t want to leave right now, I know she’s right. We leave everything in the tree and climb down, deciding we’ll most likely return once Prim is safely back at home. Together, we walk to the school and wait for Prim just outside the gates of the school yard. I’m not sure how much Prim knows much about what’s going on, if anything, but Katniss and I are too afraid to let her walk anywhere in the district alone. Afraid of what Snow might do.

Everyone, even Katniss’s mom said her father’s death was just a stroke of bad luck— that he had an aneurysm that no one knew about, that ruptured. That if they’d had the technology the people in the Capitol have at their fingertips, they could have caught and treated it. But we know better. There was no Capitol technology or any fancy device that would have spared his life. There is no doubt in my mind— or Katniss’s that Snow was the cause of her dad’s untimely death. Of course, it wasn’t him per say, because he was clearly safe inside the President’s Mansion in the Capitol, but more than likely one of his spies here in 12. The timing of everything was just too coincidental, not to mention the fact that he offered his condolences before it even happened.

“Oh, I told Rye we’d stop by the bakery on our way home today,” I tell Prim and Katniss, giving Prim a little wink. It’s a lie, but Katniss doesn’t know that. When I clued Prim in on my master plan just the other day, she was more than happy to go along with it— knowing that we all need something positive in our lives— something to celebrate.

We stop by the bakery and I breathe a sigh of relief that my mother is nowhere in sight. She isn’t supposed to be here for another hour or so, but that hasn’t stopped her from making an unscheduled appearance before. Rye has trouble keeping a straight face as he prepares a bag for us, filled with Katniss’s favorites.

“Hey, I uh … I was about to head out and stop by to see Dad, I can walk Prim home,” Rye suggests, also aware of my plan.

Katniss squirms in place, uncomfortable to even the thought of letting Prim out of her sight but I assure her it’s okay. Rye will protect Prim and keep her safe. They have grown rather close over the last few weeks … or, well, ever since Mr. Everdeen got sick while Katniss and I were still on the Victory Tour.

I remember thanking him for being there for my surrogate family and he rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah, like you’d ever let me hear the end of it if I was there and didn’t help if I could.”

‘Right,’ I thought to myself. ‘It had nothing to do with you actually caring about them, let alone that you are a decent human being,’ but I kept those thoughts to myself.

“Prim is safe with me, I assure you that I will take extra good care of her,” Rye assuages. Katniss squirms uncomfortably, so Rye adds, “Katniss, I promise. You have my word.”

“Extra good?” Katniss smirks after a second, her shoulders slowly relaxing. “Maybe on your way there, Prim can teach you some grammar,” she says in that snarky tone of hers.

“Katniss, we’ll go straight home, I swear!” Prim decrees, clasping her hands together and poking her lip out. Katniss narrows her eyes, which is preceded with a scowl, but then she finally concedes.

“Fine. Go straight home. NO detours.”

Prim wraps her arms around Katniss’s waist and squeals, “Thank you, thank you, thank you Katniss! You are the best sister ever!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Katniss remarks, trying to hide her grin. Like me, she finds it extremely difficult to deny Prim anything.

After Katniss and I collect our stuff from the treehouse, I get an idea. “I want to make a snowman,” I tell her with a cheeky smile.

“A snowman? Seriously? But it’s cold Peeta,” she whines.

“That’s the point. You can’t make a snowman when it’s warm.” So, that’s what we do, we build a snowman until she gets the bright idea to chuck a snowball at my face. And then— it’s on. I scoop up a ball of snow and sling it at Katniss, hitting her square in the shoulder.

With her impeccable aim, I should have known that I had no chance in the world of besting her in a snowball fight.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” she whines when she sees the pile of snowballs I have hidden behind the snowman. She might have impeccable aim, but I am the youngest of three boys— I had to work twice as hard to keep up with them.

“You started it,” I tell her and chuck another ball of snow at her. For the next hour or so, we have fun, smiling and laughing while getting snow blasted in our faces. Katniss tackles me from the side and slams me down on my back. She straddles my hips, pinning my arms to the ground.

“I win, you lose,” she says triumphantly, planting a victory kiss to my lips.

“That may be true, but I think it’s me who is the real winner here.”

Her eyes knit together in confusion, “And just how exactly do you figure that?”

“Well, you’ve got me pinned to the ground, I’m trapped underneath you. I’ll gladly lose to you if this is my punishment,” I tell her with a crooked grin.

“Come on, let’s go home. I’m cold,” she says, climbing off my hips and helping me up. Under normal circumstances I do not need help getting around with my prosthesis. However, the snow adds many challenges to my already uneven gait.

No longer able to feel either our fingers, toes, or our faces, we make our way back to my house to warm up. Rye and my dad are hanging out two doors down, at the Everdeen’s, so I don’t have to worry about anyone barging in on us. Once I get the fire started, we curl up on a blanket I spread out on the floor, soaking up the heat from the flames.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Katniss tells me once the feeling in her fingers returns and then she makes her way upstairs. Her absence gives me the perfect opportunity to get everything in order. The moment she is out of sight, I begin creating a mental checklist of everything I need to do. Once I hear the water splashing against the tile floor, I zip into the kitchen and get to work. I begin by filling a tray with the cheese buns from the bakery— Katniss’ favorite, and pop them into the oven to warm them up. And then I take out the dough of the white bread I prepared a few days ago, made for this exact occasion. I open the drawer that contains the papers and pull them out. “Certificate of Marriage,” I whisper the words aloud.

“Please be okay with this Katniss,” I anxiously tell myself. “Stop it Peeta. She loves you, you love her; that’s the only thing that matters.” I remind myself, trying to talk myself up so I don’t chicken out.

Once all the bread is ready to go, I place them on a table next to the couch and wait for Katniss to come back down.

I am not waiting long when she comes gliding down the stairs in an immaculate floor-length orange summer dress. The straps holding the dress up on her shoulders are skinny, and for some reason they remind me of spaghetti noodles. It is snug at the top and gets looser the more the light orange fades into a deeper orange. My eyes nearly bug out of my head at the sight of her. She is beautiful, she is exquisite and stunning and just … WOW. It must be one of the dresses Cinna sent back with her, because I’ve never seen this one before. And although this one is clearly a dress meant for days with bright sun and scorching heat— it’s not like we’ll be going outside.

It is so unlike her when she twirls around once, a huge smile on her face. “Do you like it?”

For a moment, I’m speechless, “I … I love it, it’s beautiful; you’re beautiful.”

She blushes, joining me on the floor and I prop some pillows up for us to lean against.

“Are you hungry?” I nervously ask her. Dammit, why am I so nervous?

“What do you think?” She huffs, her eyes narrowing with her trademark scowl, which forces a chuckle to escape from my throat. It’s a stupid question to ask anyone who is a resident of 12. Everyone is hungry, even those of us who are more fortunate than the others. I hand her the platter of cheese buns, but she’s eyeing the other tray. “What’s that?” She asks, pointing behind my back.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tell her and shift my body, hoping to block her view.

“Oh my God, Peeta; is that—” The papers are all but forgotten as her eyes go saucer eyed when she catches sight of the bread behind me. She crawls over me and picks the bread up, delicately turning it over and over in her hands. “Is this—”

I bashfully look away and nod my head, “It is,” I admit. Her head snaps to the right— and then to the left as she surveys the room. And then it all hits her at once as she realizes what this is. For a moment, I am afraid she’s going to go running for the hills, but instead, she reaches for the bread knife and begins sawing at the loaf. She frees the piece of bread and impales it on a poker before placing it over the fire. While she rotates the poker to evenly toast the bread, she looks over to me, her silver eyes glistening with the flames and smiles.

“Do I ever tell you how much I love you? H-how important you are to me?” She asks as her eyes meet mine. And maybe it’s just the heat from the flames, but her cheeks suddenly flush into crimson.

All my anxiety dissipates into her gray orbs as I extend my hand out, curling a strand of her hair around my finger. “It is implied every single day, in everything you do,” I tell her softly.

She pulls the poker back and places it down next to the hearth, but not before removing the slightly toasted bread from its prongs. She juggles the bread from one hand to the other— again and again as she waits for it to cool.

My eyes are cemented on her while my anxiety rises to a new level as I await her next actions.

“Peeta … you are … the most amazingly incredible person I know— have ever known. And … I never thought I wanted this, but you— you changed everything for me. You changed the way I see the world, and I … I can’t imagine a life without you. And … even if I could, I don’t want to.”

Woah, wait a minute, what is she doing? Those are supposed to be my words.

‘Katniss, what are you doing?’ I ask her in our silent form of communication.

‘I think you know,’ she smiles mischievously at me.

“Uh-uhn, no, that’s my job, I had this all planned out.”

“Oh, so that’s what today was all about?” She exclaims with a bright smile on her face. I can’t help but return the smile as I lean over and press my lips against hers. Using my weight, I push her down onto her back and kiss her deeply— thoroughly running my tongue along her lips, sucking … pulling her bottom lip into my mouth until she shivers.

“I love you Katniss Everdeen,” I mumble through our connected lips. “I love everything about you; even the things I hate about you, I love.” I crawl up next to her, our bodies continuing to absorb the heat from the flames as I stare longingly into her beautiful grey eyes.

“You ruined my plans, I’m not sure if I can forgive you for that,” I quip, smiling and gazing into her perfect eyes.

“What if I …” She intentionally hesitates, lifting the seam of my shirt up and tracing her fingers lightly across my stomach, “do this?” She finishes, sending goosebumps prickling against my skin and I squirm from side to side with her touch.

“Nothing’s ruined,” she promises. “All I said, was I wanted for it to be ours; that I didn’t want the day I became yours, and you mine to be in front of a Capitol audience. As long as it’s just us, I don’t care about the rest.”

And she says she’s not good with words.

I take her hands into mine, our heads sharing the same pillow as we stare into each other’s eyes, “Katniss, I was mesmerized by you since I was a five-year old, snaggle-toothed little boy. I can’t even remember a time I didn’t love you; and for so long, I never thought you would give me the time of day. I thought … for so long I thought that just being your friend would be enough, but after having your love— after having your heart … I can’t imagine a life without you. I know you only said yes because of … well, because of everything, but I swear to you, I will be the best husband you could ever hope to have. I—”

“Peeta, I—” She interjects, but I stop her.

“Please Katniss, please let me finish,” she nods, not pushing it any further. I glance down to the bread and then back at her, “I offer this toasted bread to you with the promise of being your best friend. I will listen when you need someone to talk to; when you just need to vent, my ears will be open, or if you just need a sounding board, I will be that too. You will never have to be alone again because I will be by your side.“

‘Always,‘ I add in our silent way.

“Even when you don’t think you want me there, I will be. I will hold your hand when you’re scared, and I will be right here, right next to you, scared with you. I will tell you that everything will be okay— because even if it’s not, we will have each other. I will always, always be there to catch you before you fall. And … and I’ll give you a push if that’s what you need, too. Because I love you.”

Her eyes are pooled with tears and her chin quivers as she reaches for our toasted slice of bread and holds it up between us. It is the only thing separating our lips. And then I part my lips and allow her to feed me the bread, our bread. Our little slice of heaven that signifies our love. I sink my teeth into the perfectly toasted bread, as does she. Our teeth sink into our promise to the other and then we seal it with a kiss.

“I love you Peeta Mellark, my husband.”

“And I, you; Katniss Everdeen; my wife.”

“I think that would be Katniss Mellark now; get it right,” she tries to scowl at me but fails, erupting in a giggle.

“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Katniss Mellark— Oh, that reminds me!” I exclaim jubilantly, nearly bursting at the seams as I jump up to collect the papers the mayor had given me earlier this week.

“What’s that?” Katniss asks me.

“It’s um … they’re the papers. To um, make it official.”

“Seriously? When— How?” I breathe out a sigh of relief when she doesn’t object. That she seems genuinely excited.

“The mayor. But … we can’t tell anyone; she’ll be in a load of trouble if anyone finds out.”

“My husband … conspiring with the mayor,” Katniss beams, glowing with pride. I am incapable of concealing the cheesy, shit-eating grin when she calls me her husband.

As I watch her grip the pen in her hand and sign her name on all the dotted lines, I pinch myself to see if I am dreaming. I can’t believe it; I am actually, really, truly and officially married to Katniss Everdeen— Mellark.

“Wait! I have something for you,” Katniss says and rushes up the stairs. I hear her run into my room and then a drawer slams before she is sprinting back down the stairs.

“You already gave me a ring, and I um … I want you to have this Peeta,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she reaches for my hand. Refusing to meet my eyes, she slips something onto my finger.

I pull my hand up to look at what she’s placed on my finger to see a ring adorned to the pointer finger of my right hand. Then she takes her ring off the chain of her necklace— (the one I gave her in District 4 the night of my true proposal to her— the one that once belonged to her mother, given to me by her father) and does the same.

It’s a tradition in 12 that goes along with the toasting. Everyone knows that your wedding ring is typically worn on the fourth finger of your left hand, but in 12, it starts out on the pointer finger of your right hand. There was a tradition from before the dark days that said you start off like this because there is a vein … or maybe it’s an artery that runs from your finger to your heart. And since marriage is the ultimate promise, by doing this you are connecting your hearts together. Once the ceremony is over, then you switch it to the fourth finger of your left hand.

Katniss leans over to kiss me and we switch the ring to our proper fingers while our lips are still conjoined. For now. I will eventually have to find a clever place to keep mine until … until well, I don’t know. But the Capitol cannot know we are already married.

After all the traditions are complete, I take our marriage papers to the office room upstairs and tuck them away in a safe place. Then, with a little extra pep in my step, I find my way back to the main room and scoop Katniss into my arms.

“Peeta! What are you doing?” She squeals like a giddy schoolgirl, encircling her arms around my neck. Carefully, I make my way up the stairs and into my room— our room. Who am I kidding? It’s always been our room— no piece of paper or ceremony was needed to decide that for us.

“I am carrying my wife over the threshold. The toasting isn’t complete until that’s been done,” I remind her with a kiss.

“Okay,” she says, nuzzling her head against my chest. No thanks to my artificial leg, we make it up the steps successfully. I press my lips against hers as my foot passes the threshold. Now, all the standard traditions of 12 are complete, except for the final one. The one that really seals the deal. Consummation.

Just thinking the word in my head causes me to stumble. My brain seems to forget how to gracefully put one foot in front of the other and I fall face first onto my bed, my body nearly crushing my beautiful wife.

She giggles; a foreign sound, but it is one that I cherish. “I love you,” I say, pressing my forehead against hers.

“Smooth,” she says, and I can feel her lips forming into a smile against my mouth.

“So, now, we’re supposed to um …” There is a nervous energy between us; she’s scared, as am I. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life, and that’s saying something— having survived an arena and all.

“Katniss, you know … we don’t have to do this, we can just—”

“What? You don’t want to?” She interjects defensively.

“No, no— I mean, yes, I do. I was just saying … if you don’t want to, it’s okay. We don’t have to, we can wait,” I stumble over my words trying to reassure her.

“I want to Peeta,“ she says certainly, never taking her eyes off mine. "I have wanted to for a while now, and I think we’ve waited long enough. Will you … will you help me unzip my dress?” Her eyes flit to the floor as she smiles nervously, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue.

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. While Katniss and I have done many things, getting caught up in heated kisses, touching in places I would rather not mention, we have never gone this far. We have never gone all the way. She turns around and pulls her hair to the side, granting me access to her zipper. I scrupulously glide the zipper down until it refuses to budge another inch and delicately slide the sleeves down her arms. A frown of disappointment encases my lips when she begins to braid her hair.

I press my lips to her bare neck and kiss my way to her shoulder, which causes a moan to expel from her lips. “Leave it down, please.”

“Mmm hmmm,” she moans.

“My God, you are so beautiful,” I tell her, my lips trailing down to the crest of her shoulder. Finally, I sling her dress into the chair next to my bed and she nervously flips onto her back, incredulously facing me.

‘Oh my God, Katniss is naked, bare to me and in my bed,’ I think to myself as I stare her up and down.

Feeling self-conscious … probably due to my ogling her, she reaches over and pulls the sheet to cover her near-naked body.

“No, what are you doing?” I ask her, tugging the fabric back.

“I just … feel so … naked without my clothes,” she says, flushing with embarrassment.

“Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

“Well then … be naked with me,” she says, tugging on the hem of my shirt, eager for me to remove it. I slide my shirt off and it joins her dress in the chair. I am hesitant to remove my pants, still self-conscious about my leg.

“Pants too,” Katniss whispers in a raspy— so, so sexy voice.

“I … I—”

“Peeta, I love all of you, even the Capitol-made parts,” she takes charge and flips me over, undoes the button of my pants, and I am too paralyzed to refuse; not that I would want to. She removes my pants, then sits up and straddles my hips. With nothing but our underclothes on, we are completely bare to each other, and I understand what she meant about feeling naked without her clothes. There is nothing to conceal our insecurities, both physical and emotional. But that’s the point, right? To be completely open, bare— naked to the one you love. To have nothing— no secrets between you. However, underneath all my anxiety, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything quite this amazing before. We slip under the covers and I click the lamp on that sits on my nightstand. It emanates a soft glow, perfectly lighting the room, while producing a shadow over the insecurities.

“Can I take your leg off?” Katniss asks me. She must be in my head again— I was just too embarrassed to take the initiative— afraid she would find my mutilated leg … repulsive.

“Okay,” I say. For the first time I realize she’s had a lot of practice helping me put it on and take it off as she slips it off with ease.

“I don’t want any part of the Capitol here for this,” she says, placing kisses against the scar on my leg. I pull her up to me and flip her back onto her back.

We are a tangled mess of arms and legs, our tongues dancing together in a frenzy, yet in perfect synchronicity. As if they’d been practicing for years and years until they reached utter perfection. I trail kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone and across her shoulders. I want to kiss every inch of her body; I don’t want to miss a single bit of her skin. I reach down and cup her perfect breasts in my hands and she moans out in pleasure, which causes my cock to pulse until it is fully erect.

“Touch me Peeta,” surrendering to her every command, I stroke her arms, and then add light touches to her perfectly flattened stomach. I caress my hands up and down her legs, trying to muster up the courage to touch her there. Finally, I do, and she’s so hot and wet for me. I slide one finger inside her center and keep it in there while I use my thumb to rub circles on that little bundle of nerves that I know has the power to make her come undone.

Her body tenses up and I know I’ve hit the right spot when she pants out my name. “I could be satisfied … happy, just doing that to you … every second of every minute, of every single day,” I tell her once the intensity of her climax has subsided.

“Then how would you make me cheese buns?” She says with a heavy breath. Smiling, I inch up to her face and kiss her. Soft and light at first, and then harder, deeper— as if I am starving and her lips are the only way to satiate my hunger.

“I need you Peeta; I— I need you closer,” she breathes into me and I instantly know what she means. She wants me to be inside her. We have both wanted this for such a long time, I almost can’t believe it’s actually happening. I kiss her softly as I fumble my way on top of her. Using one elbow to prop myself up, my other hands grips onto my cock as I tease her entrance with my hardened member. Even without being inside her, I can feel how wet she is. Which only causes my already rock-hard cock to pulse even harder. She spreads her legs open for me and I fumble nervously, guiding my cock into her entrance and sliding inside her— slowly at first.

“Is this okay?” I ask her, recalling an embarrassing conversation with Rye as he gave me the intricate details that a girl’s first time can be painful, and that it’s important that they are “ready” prior to penetration.

“More Peeta, I need all of you,” she demands, locking her legs around my hips and digging her heels into the back of my calves. Slowly, I push myself deeper into her, impaling her, until finally, I am fully submerged into her heat.

“Holy FUCK!” I gasp, crying out when my cock is surrounded by her walls. “Is- is this okay?” I ask her again, not wanting to do anything that might hurt her. It is taking every bit of willpower that I possess to keep my body still— to prevent my hips from ramming deep— and hard, into her.

“Oh God, Peeta, you feel so good. Please … please, Peeta—” she begs me, and I’ve never been very good at denying her anything as I submit to her will. Slowly, I partially retract myself from her center and then slowly, slowly push myself back inside, our pelvises grinding against each other. Her nails dig into my back, finding their way to my ass and then she squeezes—

“Holy FUCK, how did you just do that?” I ask when her walls tighten around my cock.

“What … this?” She grins, repeating the action, “You like that?” She says in a teasing, seductive voice.

“Katniss— stop … or I’m going to … or I won’t last, and I want … this has to be perfect,” I beg her and then she reaches up, encircling her arms around my neck and pressing her mouth to mine.

“It’s already perfect because I’m with you,” she tells me in-between heated kisses. And once again, she stupefies me with her words.

“Oh God, I love you too, my perfect, beautiful, amazingly gifted wife,” I tell her, while gliding in … gliding out of her sex.

“Katniss … I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to last if you keep doing that … where do you want me to—”

“Right where you are,” she tells me, knowing what I am trying to say.

“But,” I question her with a raise of my brow.

“I took that pill Effie gave you— I mean, me,” she explains, running her tongue along my ear.

I shiver from the contact and lose all control as I slam into her— again and again before grinding into her center once more. We both grind; hard and slow, and deep— achieving the perfect rhythm until I feel that familiar stirring deep in my stomach— and then we’re both moaning, and yelling, and whispering— shouting— gasping the other’s name and I’m spilling into her, filling her with my seed; both of us believing that Effie’s miracle pill from the Capitol will prevent any watering of said seed.

0 – 0 – 0

Curious about their “unspoken language”? Or Katniss’s father’s untimely death? Or who the mayor of 12 is since it clearly is not Mayor Undersee? Come check out my THG re-writes: Changing the Game (Complete) and Another Way Out (In progress) (The final book/story is TBA). Told in multiple POV’s. AND, find out what happens once Katniss reaches District 13. Does anyone know they actually and officially got married in 12? Does Katniss get pregnant? Does Effie’s miracle pill work for them?

#ameliaodair #prompt 46 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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