Tumgik
#by information about their lives I just mean normal things like birthday or favorite things
sakuramidnight15 · 8 months
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-RSA OC Information-
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Character Bio
Name: Venomia Fleur
(Japanese: ヴェノミア・フルール)
Romaji: Vu~enomia Furūru
Quote: "I require my own patience, not out-lashing mannerisms... So do you mind?"
V/A: Ai Fairouz (Japanese)
Gender: Female
Age: ???
Birthday: January 2
Star Sign: Capricorn
Eye Color: Light Green (Her normal eye color)
??? (Unknown Eye Color)
Hair Color: Light Red Ash
Height: 174 cm
Race: Crestia Demi-Goddess
Species: Abyssal Type (High-ranked)
Homeland: Themyscira Empire (4th Kingdom Level)
Family: Unnamed Parents
Unnamed two older sisters
Unnamed Grandparents
Unnamed Family-in-laws
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School Status and Fun Facts
Dorm: Crystaleon (@fumikomiyasaki)
School Year: Third
Class: 3-A (Same Class with Aine)
Student no. 20
Occupation: Student
Maiden of the Fleur Temple
Head Mistress of Ivy Domain
Club: N/A
Best Subject: Potions, Mathematics, and Science
Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous
Favorite Color: Green, Light Yellow, White, and Red
Favorite Food: Fried Kebabs, Iced Lemonade, Sour-flavoured Food (Mostly), Lemon and Honey Drops Candies, Mango Peach Pie, Tropical Drinks, Fried Meat (Mostly), Maple Syrup Pancakes (With various Berries),
Least Favorite Food: Too much Ketchup, Bitterness (Mostly), Tasteless Food, Goat Meat (Mostly), Jawbreakers, Herbals (That tasted bitter), Bubblegums,
Likes: Exploring New Forest Realms (Mostly), Botanical Activities, Reading Chinese Graphics, Flower-seeing, Many Monstrous-Flesh Eating Monsters (Mostly), Meditation, Flower-crown making, Temple Visiting,
Dislikes: Loud Noises from the sky (Mostly), Aine and Isamu's bickerings (Mostly), Seeing Achlys's mood swings, Someone or Something wasting her time, Anything that seems distasteful to her opinion, Her older sister's ranting about marriage, A wish that cost building destruction,
Hobbies: High Collected Memory, Temple Visiting, Meditation, Wanting to see a Monstrous-Flesh Eating Monster (Mostly), Botanical Activities (Mostly), Exploring new Forest Realms (Mostly), Flower-crown making, Being a daily alarm clock for her fellow crestia demi-gods (Mostly),
Talents: High-skilled Abyssal Magic, Hypnosis Abilities, Demi-God Physical Strength, Floral Mage Abilities, Poison Plant Manipulation, Snap Dragon Command, ???,
Nicknames: Vena or Monia (From her family and friends)
Venomia-senpai or Fleur-senpai (From the freshmen students)
Lady Fleur (From all the Servants)
Via or Vivi (From her fellow Crestia Demi-gods)
Noa (From her older sisters)
Other Nicknames:
Lady of the Maddest Poison
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Appearance and Personality
Appearance: Venomia has an average female body build but has an structure up-building which is unusual for a female individual like her, which means her structure is similar to a man but much more feminine. She has light ash red colored hair which she ties the right side of it into a side ponytail. She has light green colored eyes but when using her crestia demi-god abilities the color of the other color for it remains unknown for the time being. Venomia is considered to be an understandable individual but is mostly centered when it comes to things that aren't in her area.
Personality: Born as the youngest child within her lineage, Venomia was considered to be dull and has the incapability of feeling much of other emotions, despite the fact that she had never failed to disappoint the family and its historical upbringing, not a single emotion surfaced into her childhood days. To Venomia's thoughts on it back then, she found nothing to be considered as worth to hold within her lifestyle, which concerned towards her parents and sisters ever since till a certain issue within the family had brought up within the Ivy Temple just to drag Venomia down the pit of her living which turned her into a lifeless of her shell.
But all things changed when the grand ivy within the temple chose Venomia to be its current user for its power and legacy, for the first few times within her lessons as the lady of the temple, it indeed brought the young crestia demi-goddess into a spring of sudden emotions after seeing nature and it's abilities as time passes on within her life, which it includes her fascination of plant monsters who are capable of consuming fleshed beings, which Venomia finds them thrilling as she grew older.
The current Venomia we're seeing now in the present-timeline is known for her secured obedience and disciplinary for many valid reasons as her job applied so for many, but she can be understandable for various situations as a crestia demi-goddess, like her other fellow crestia demi-gods within the dorm, she seems to be a neutral fellow member within the dorm itself within a daily schedule. Despite her current appearance as she grew up in present, she seems to have managed to have an understanding of some emotions she has in the present but for the rest has remains unknown for her own curiosity or more.
She seems to be rather okay with much of the situations however she can raise her ears to hear something that catches her interesting in some other way around but it depends on how she responds to them in her own opinion and level. Which is why she is understanding with her ears and mature for her age of level. Although she would rather stay low for status for various reasons which seems rather important which she cannot answer, although she can get a headache if things were going out of hand and level for her management, which Venomia is more of an assisting role kind of individual and does not want any leadership role but she'll manage somehow but not for long on her brain and balance.
Though obedience is one thing to know, but her limit is far beyond limits whenever she's about to cross with. Composed and ladylike but silent as a trap ready to be at upon, Venomia wouldn't hesitate to remind and goes sometimes for brutality of violence on anyone who misreads her mind and words, sometimes silence is an all the way to go but for Venomia and her upbringing childhood? No. She knows more than what's there behind them.
Please give her some thinking whenever another issue is brought up, she isn't fast at getting things done but is clever for settled ideas to the bottle.
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Trivia
-The name 'Venomia' means name by the word 'venom'. While her surname 'Fleur' is a french name for the word 'flower'.
-She's based on 'Serah Farron'. One of the characters within the Final Fantasy Game Series.
-Loves seeing forest realms, including some forest within the countries of the rift border. Venomia visits them whenever she has the chance.
-Seems to have her knowledge of the other races within the rift as well.
-Venomia knows how to handle her words, clever that she misunderstood on anything she hears.
-Is an true expert on botanical activities, especially on greenhouses and powerplants.
-Is okay with her family desire drama going on in the past but things have settled down in the present.
-She seems annoyed a bit whenever her sister mentions marriage, Venomia would make an expression including uninterested thoughts in it as well.
-She and Isamu were dance partners back then, but eventually became neutral with one another. It seems that Isamu understood her conflicted personality after meaning her.
-She's also neutral within the dorm members and belongs in the dark side with Achlys as an abyssal type like him, however he seems to be the only one she talks to despite others within.
-Is also a daily alarm clock in between for Aine and Achlys, although she does seem to be bothered by it at all.
-Rarely finds anything interesting from her past till now, but she hides her curiosity till she says so.
-Aine seems to be interested in Venomia before they enter the dorm, the two become rather friends in the end with odd likings towards each other.
-She and Achyls often have an understatement agreement towards nature and its abilities. He seems to not mind seeing her thrill-ment of fleshed eating monsters whenever he brought it up to her.
-The issue that was mentioned before was in fact the trouble at the Ivy Temple before she became the lady in the present timeline. In the past one afternoon around at sunset, Venomia had wandered towards it till she came in contact with an extremely rare amount of poison kicked in from the temple itself, which caused her family and sisters to put an uproar with the household upon the tragedy till she managed to regain consciousness during her midweek survival on her revival. She was hospitalized for five weeks.
-Her voice sounds low and decent when talking to others, but however the tone and words go differently on another level whenever she feels moody. Which is why I chose Ai Fairouz to be her voice actor.
-Is fluent in Chinese Language.
-Venomia can get headaches for things that aren't in her forte. She'd rather not handle it eventually.
-Makes flower crowns out of habit whenever she feels bored.
-She is mostly found reading Chinese books in any secluded areas whenever she's on her free time or feeling bored within the academy.
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adw520 · 1 year
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Better Dylan Info Post (aka Dylan Lore Dump 1)
because I realized in the light of day that my last post was not very well organized or worded (I was very tired)
First off have another picrew. Baydews' character creator is my favorite one out there. Djarn's comes in close second, but I haven't made Dylan there yet.
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☆ Her full name is Dylan Strand. For etymology nerds like me, Dylan is from the Welsh prefix 'dy', meaning to/towards, and word 'llanw', meaning tide/flow. Strand is from the Old Norse word for beach. Assuming the site I used to get this information is accurate, anyway.
☆ On a slightly related note, apparently Dylan isn't really used for girls outside the US? I wasn't aware it was such a unique thing.
☆ Her birthday is Summer 21. I used a random date generator and converted it to Stardew time. I think I still have the calculations somewhere in my phone's notes.
☆ She's 5'10", which is a little on the tall side. She has her mom to thank for that.
☆ Blue Moon Farm is on the forest map, which is without a doubt my favorite farm map.
☆ Dylan's mom lives off the east coast of the Ferngill Republic. Dylan and her dad moved to Zuzu City when she was about 6 to be closer to her grandpa, but returned to visit every year for Dylan's birthday. Her grandpa loved to talk about Blue Moon Farm and show her pictures from its heyday. He passed the year she graduated high school.
☆ She loves to fish and can rival Willy in skill. Some might think it's magic, but she's actually just had a lot of practice.
☆ While she generally follows the universal gifts, she loves Golden Coconut, Dragon Tooth, and Seafoam Pudding. She likes all kinds of fish as well as Sea Urchins. She's neutral about all Tackle, Bait, and Monster Loot, as well as Fairy Dust and the Tea Set. She only dislikes Joja Cola, but she hates Qi Fruit.
☆ She likes bright colors. Her favorite is yellow.
☆ I mentioned before that Dylan has trouble localizing sounds. In humans, the shape of our outer ears plays a big part in localizing sound. Dylan has no real outer ears, and her inner ears are structured a little differently to help with hearing underwater. If she were to keep her fins out, they'd do a fairly decent job of helping to localize sounds. However, they're more effective for that purpose underwater than on land, and they're not much help at all held flat against her head and hidden by her hair.
☆ Her fins are pierced! She normally wears a pair of large gold hoops, but she owns a few different pairs of studs for times where there's a risk of the hoops getting yanked out. She also likes necklaces, but isn't a fan of bracelets or rings.
☆ The effect of the full moon isn't entirely because of her heritage. There's a psychological aspect to it as well. The spring tides from a full and new moon have equal pull on her, but because new moons lack the light of a full moon, she doesn't have that visual indicator. With a full moon, it becomes a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. She's so worried about giving into the pull that it happens. Her umbrella is a visible barrier between herself and the moon to help put her mind at ease and keep from working herself up into an unplanned nighttime swim.
☆ I'm putting the Stardew lunar cycle at 20 days. It's a lot longer than a direct conversion would have it, but 9 days seemed a bit short for my liking. I'm also aware that spring tides are technically the high tides the night after a full or new moon, but I'm choosing to ignore that. My made-up lore, my rules.
☆ She has some small scales scattered around with her freckles. She also has gills hidden under her jaw. They seal themselves when she's above water, and open when she submerges.
☆ The forest magic the wizard gave her almost made her sick enough to go to the clinic. Fortunately, her body adjusted to it before it could get that bad. A full ocean spirit wouldn't have been so lucky.
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novelmonger · 1 year
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Thoughts on Jedi Apprentice 11: The Deadly Hunter
This one! THIS ONE!!!!! 8D I am so excited for this arc of the story! The Hidden Truth will probably always be my favorite, but after all the epic Xanatos stuff, these next three books are the best part of this series, in my opinion. Definitely some of the stuff that's stuck with me the most, even after all these years.
Let's dive in!
Chapter 2
We begin with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan landing on Coruscant after a series of missions. (Note that Obi-Wan is now fourteen. Since I'm pretty sure he was thirteen in the last book, and there was no mention of a birthday, and because they hitched a ride instead of using the ship King Frane gave them, I think we're supposed to understand that they've had other adventures in between.) Instead of going straight back to the Temple, Qui-Gon wants to stop by a cafe run by a friend of his.
The friend is Didi Oddo, who runs a tiny little hole-in-the-wall cafe that's seen better days. He's the kind of guy that seems to be friends with everybody, whether they're an upstanding citizen or a shady individual, and he doesn't hesitate to let those who are going through hard times eat for free, nor does he hesitate to coax more money out of those who are doing well. I'm not entirely sure why, because his description is just that he's a "small, round man with a melancholy face," but I always imagined him as a Little Person (though not his daughter, Astri). Couldn't tell you why, but my brain persists in imagining him that way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Regardless, I like him. He's a bit dramatic, especially when insisting how innocent he is despite being surrounded by criminals on all sides XD
But we're not just in for an ordinary friendly reunion. After a bit of small talk, Didi takes them into his office in the back, to beg Qui-Gon for help. A bounty hunter seems to be after him, and he has no idea why. He serves plenty of criminals, but he insists he isn't one himself (though he seems to be toeing the line a little bit, since he sometimes gambles and buys things on the black market :P). So he wants the Jedi to go find the bounty hunter and convince her that there's some kind of mistake. Qui-Gon agrees, though Obi-Wan doesn't think it's a good idea. It doesn't seem like any of their business.
"'Here is a man who seeks out criminals and the dregs of the galaxy in order to get information, which he then sells to the highest bidder. If you live in that sort of world, you deserve whatever bad luck comes your way. ... I don't understand why you're helping him,' Obi-Wan said, frustrated. Qui-Gon hesitated. Then he said, 'It's because he is my friend.'" - And here, once again, we see the interaction of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin ^_^
Chapter 3
"'This place doesn't look as if it provides a soft landing to me,' Obi-Wan observed, casting a dubious eye at the Soft Landings Inn. 'More like a full-scale crash.'" - Ahhh, this book is already off to a good start XD
The Jedi go to the inn where the bounty hunter is supposed to be staying. As Obi-Wan commented above, it's not exactly an upscale place :P Anyway, they locate the bounty hunter's room, and walk in to find her sitting there silently. She's a humanoid with a shaved head, and she has a whip that Didi told them about. They try talking to her, explaining that there must have been some kind of mistake, but she doesn't say a word. Instead, she suddenly attacks them with her whip, choking Obi-Wan and tripping him up, and cutting open Qui-Gon's shoulder. Besides just being a normal whip, it also has a laser mode. While they're still reacting to the sudden attack, she slips through the narrow opening of the window, her bones compressing so she can fit through the gap. Qui-Gon says this means she comes from the planet Sorrus.
Chapter 4
The Jedi return to the cafe and tell Didi what happened. After getting his wound patched up, Qui-Gon grills Didi to see why someone would send a bounty hunter after him. Obi-Wan suggests that instead of some sort of official warrant being issued, which would be unlikely for a simple cafe owner, maybe it was a private commission because of some piece of information sold to Didi that someone doesn't want to get out. Didi can't think of anything in particular, just a senator resigning and a gang called the Tech Raiders moving their headquarters. Neither seem like big enough pieces of information to kill someone over.
In the middle of the discussion, Didi's daughter Astri bustles in. She's kind of clumsy and preoccupied, and complains about how Didi complains every time she tries to do something to improve the cafe, particularly in terms of their sketchy clientele. In particular, she's proud of getting a famous philanthropic scientist, Jenna Zan Arbor, to book their cafe for a medical conference. (This will be very important later!) I like Astri. She makes for a fun dynamic with Didi as they banter back and forth. I keep on wanting to call her Astrid, though I don't remember ever having that problem when reading these books before....
This moment gave me a chuckle: Qui-Gon: "Besides, it will give you a chance to see the seamier side of Coruscant." Obi-Wan: "Just what I always wanted."
Chapter 5
The first step is to track down Fligh, the informant who sold Didi those pieces of information. I like Fligh; he's fun in a scoundrelly-but-mostly-harmless way. He's also a total coward and pushover who is easily convinced to talk because he's intimidated by the Jedi and because Didi has been kind to him in the past.
Fligh: "How else does one survive on Coruscant?" Qui-Gon: "One could get a job." Fligh: "One could, if one were a different being. However, one is not."
Ultimately, they don't learn anything that seems particularly significant from Fligh. He heard about the Tech Raiders from their representative on Coruscant, and he learned about the senator resigning from an official memo that made it to his hands.
They stop by the office of Senator Uta S'orn, the one who is resigning, and let her know that her resignation has leaked. She seems genuinely surprised and distressed by this news, because of how it might affect support for some legislation she's going to introduce. It seems unlikely that she would have put a price on Didi's head, and even though now they've learned that Fligh must have stolen her data pad, since she lost it and that's where her announcement was saved, that doesn't necessarily mean much. Fligh could have just not wanted to admit to stealing something like that directly to the Jedi's faces.
Chapter 6
The Jedi track down Helb, the Tech Raiders' representative, in a bar. But it seems like a dead end, because Helb intentionally told Fligh about their new location so that word would get out and people could find them, like free advertising under the radar. Fligh owes the Tech Raiders a lot of money, but they have no reason to want to kill Didi.
As they're leaving the bar, Obi-Wan spots the bounty hunter again, watching them and wearing a disguise that makes her look like an old man. Unfortunately, she gets away before they can catch her.
Chapter 8
When they return to Didi's cafe to update him, they find Astri bustling about in a near-panic, preparing for the important meal for Jenna Zan Arbor. The Jedi go to talk to Didi as the guests begin to arrive...only to hear that Fligh has been killed.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan go to investigate Fligh's murder, telling Didi to stay in the cafe where it's safe. They don't learn much at the scene of the crime about who did it, but they do pick up on an intriguing clue: Fligh has been strangled with some kind of cord, and all of the blood has been drained from his body before it was dumped in an alley.
(Side note: I just remembered that this precise scene was when I learned the word pallor. Don't let anyone tell you Star Wars isn't educational! XD)
"'Do you ever get used to death?' Obi-Wan asked. 'No,' Qui-Gon said. 'That is how it should be.'" - It can be easy to forget just how young Obi-Wan is in these books, because of how much more competent he is than your average fourteen-year-old, but Qui-Gon doesn't. He has Obi-Wan stand back so he won't see the gruesome sight of Fligh's body, and he checks to make sure Obi-Wan's okay afterward. I love that, even though he's seen so much by this point, Obi-Wan is still affected by death, and Qui-Gon protects him from the trauma of it as much as possible.
Chapter 9
When the Jedi return to Didi's cafe, they find it suspiciously dark and quiet. Warily, they go in to find that all the guests are gone, and there's a mess in the kitchen and Didi's office, like someone ransacked the place looking for something. They rush upstairs to the living quarters, only to find the bounty hunter waiting for them there, having knocked Astri out and tied up Didi with her whip. After a short fight, the bounty hunter escapes yet again. Qui-Gon recommends that they leave Coruscant and go into hiding, and Didi decides to go to a house he owns in the mountains on a nearby planet. He's never been there before, because he just recently won it in a game of sabacc, but it's so remote it should be relatively safe.
The chapter is fairly ominous and action-oriented, but this moment of banter was fun: Didi: "I might--ah--have gotten myself in a tiny spot of trouble. Nothing serious." Astri: "Sure. This isn't serious. Just another ordinary evening in the cafe. I get knocked out on a regular basis."
Chapter 11
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan finally go to the Temple. Obi-Wan, poor kid, finally gets something to eat while Qui-Gon meets with Yoda and Tahl to update them on the situation. When she hears about the manner of Fligh's death and that he stole Senator S'orn's data pad, Tahl connects it to Senator S'orn's son Ren (what a choice of name!), who was Force-sensitive. But Senator S'orn didn't want to give Ren up to the Temple, so he was never trained and eventually wandered off to find himself. Six months ago, he was killed--by strangulation, and his blood was drained!
I really like this bit that Qui-Gon says to Obi-Wan: "You are too hard on yourself, Padawan. That can become a fault if you are not careful, for anger at oneself is a destructive thing. Every living being can be impatient, can turn away at a first glance, can avoid getting involved. It is a natural impulse. We are all creatures who want peace and comfort. Yet we are Jedi. Our own peace and comfort is not what drives us. We are dedicated to a larger good. But always remember that the peace and comfort of just one being is what drives us, too."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan go to see Senator S'orn again. She admits that the reason she's resigning is her preoccupation and grief since her son died. She also mentions that her friend's data pad was stolen at the same time, when Fligh overheard them talking about trying to find a good cafe to host a meal and recommended Didi's cafe. And guess who that friend was? Jenna Zan Arbor!
Chapter 13
Obviously the next thread to follow is to talk to Jenna Zan Arbor. They go to her room in a luxurious hotel and investigate her possible connections to what's going on. She didn't report the theft of her data pad because she had backups of everything on it, and it wasn't sensitive personal information like what was on Senator S'orn's. They find out from her that the legislation the senator hasn't been able to push through because of her premature resignation had to do with creating a coalition against a black market tech gang - obviously, the Tech Raiders!
On their way back to the Temple to get some sleep, the bounty hunter shows up again, this time disguised as one of the hotel's valets. She manages to push Obi-Wan over the side of a railing, and he almost goes kersplat on the ground far below, but he manages to catch himself with his cable and climb back up. This is interestingly similar to what he does in Episode II in his fight with Jango Fett....
The next day, they track down Helb at the Tech Raiders' base on Vandor-3, a nearby planet. When they confront him, Helb admits that he hired Fligh to steal Senator S'orn's data pad, but he flatly denies putting a mark on Fligh's head; he's too useful. But then Helb lets slip that both he and Fligh lost a sabacc game to Didi the other day, and Helb is the one who gave the house to Didi to pay off his debt. And where did he get that house? From a mysterious old man he met in the tavern the same day the Jedi first spoke to him. Uh-oh....
Chapter 14
"'Have you ever used a blaster before, Astri?' Qui-Gon asked cautiously. 'How hard could it be?' Astri said. 'Point and shoot. Easy as making a meal.' After having seen her kitchen, Qui-Gon was not sure he trusted her shooting." - XD
Thankfully, the Jedi get to the "safehouse" soon enough to find Didi and Astri are completely safe. As they explain the situation, Astri admits that she paid Fligh to pass along tips for who might be a high-paying customer to drum up business. She also lets slip that Fligh actually gave her Jenna Zan Arbor's data pad for safekeeping, not telling her where he got it. She'd stuffed it in a broken oven and forgotten about it until they left to come here, but took it with her because her own data pad was broken. All the information on it is encoded, but Qui-Gon sends it to Tahl to decode it.
Just when they're about to head out to somewhere safer, Didi mentions that there's a caretaker, an old woman who comes by once a day with provisions. And there's only one person that could be....
Chapter 16
EEEEEK, the exciting conclusion!!!! 8D The bounty hunter turns up and attacks them, and an exciting battle commences! They manage to get up to the second floor of the house and out a window to the landing platform, but discover that both of their transports have been disabled. As the bounty hunter comes after them, Obi-Wan spots her cruiser down the mountainside, and they head in that direction. The bounty hunter basically sleds down the mountain on her back, getting to the transport before they can get to it in all the snow, and heading them off. She shoots Didi and grabs Astri with her whip, pulling her in and grabbing the data pad from her. Obi-Wan pulls off some really stunning moves in the fight, but Qui-Gon tells him to help Didi and Astri while he goes after the bounty hunter. He jumps into her cruiser as she's taking off, and then, the last thing Obi-Wan sees: Qui-Gon is shot and falls into the cruiser. The bounty hunter's ship flies off for parts unknown.
"Had Qui-Gon been captured by the bounty hunter, or had he captured her? Was he mortally wounded? Was he alive--or dead? The anguish of not knowing made Obi-Wan want to crash to his knees. But there were wounded he had to care for. Qui-Gon had told him to stay. 'Don't lose heart, Qui-Gon,' he whispered. 'I'll find you. Hold on.' He would find a way to bring back his Master." - And we have to leave it there until the next book! Worst cliffhanger EVER! D:
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infinitethree · 2 years
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Dayyyy you should get a ‘bless this mess’ sign fir ur house
Day huffs out a surprised laugh. “My horrible gremlin kids are ahead of you on that one.”
He gestures at the two signs on the wall of the library. One says in a blocky font, I’d say bless this mess if I needed the approval of a deity to find peace. But I don’t, so I won’t.
The other is in an elegant cursive states simply, Damn This Fam.
“Christmas, two years ago, from Theo and Dee. Dee was very smug when his was opened. Theo, on the other hand…looked ready to start a brawl. Again. I learned my lesson the first Christmas here, and have started demanding a ceasefire. No fights and no pranks for the entire week, and anyone who goes against that gets stuck with their least favorite chores for a month. It’s my gift to myself.”
And what a gift it is. He might love them, but his kids are all unholy terrors who squabble, prank, and attempt to kill each other on a near daily basis.
Some call it a "probably unhealthy" amount, but Phil is the last person who can comment on his parenting. Just look at how his kids ended up.
He stretches his wings out, the question having made him pause his work long enough to notice the way they’ve begun to cramp. His newest project had devoured most of his focus, as they often do.
Is it maybe a little mean to write a message in a long dead language that’s yet to be deciphered in a certain reality, the contents of which is just a meme? And then plan to release it to that version of the internet and then sit back to watch the absolute wave of chaos that would follow?
Probably. Day would feel worse if he weren’t also more or less gift wrapping some of the missing keys to understanding said language by using this particular meme.
It’s the only world he knows of with that particular version of an old text, and he needs to see the inevitable discussions and research its content will spark.
So, really, he’s doing them a favor. Sure there might be a lot of academics who lose sleep over how and why the meme was made in the first place, but life can’t be perfect.
Which reminds him, he should probably say a little more. “I get exactly three breaks a year. The first is my birthday, the second is father’s day, and the third is Christmas week. I treasure every second of precious, precious peace. I’ll only treasure it more as Lee gets older.”
His youngest has gone from a wholesome ball of sunshine to a wholesome ball of sunshine who will have unfathomable power at his fingertips.
It had never crossed his mind that someone who could be the same type of admin might have come back with them. Even if it had, he doubts he would have suspected Lee and Daz of being the only two with that spark.
The latter of them only seems more odd with that knowledge. It’s thrown a lot of things Day had assumed about him into question.
Hell, it’s thrown things he had assumed about himself into question. The knowledge that he has about how admins–at least the type like he had been–actually function is still shaky at best. Most of it is guesswork, up to and including if it’s just normal that admins can’t leave for long.
There’s virtually no information out there on admins, not that he hasn’t tried his damnedest to find something.
All that has turned up are rumors, accounts of odd things passed around through untold numbers of hands, and four myths associated with deities that hold tiny kernels of truth in them.
That, and a whole lot of frustration.
It's oddly reassuring that in this reality, information about admins is so infuriatingly rare. It means that it's virtually impossible that anyone acted the way they did despite knowing what it would look like to him.
Day glances at the clock, heaves a long sigh, and gets up.
Pondering the nature of the universe can wait. Starting dinner so he can demand his sons all sit down and eat together is far more important. They get absorbed in their various hobbies, duties, and general lives. All of them but Lee are adults and he won't insult them by trying to micromanage their lives.
That said, the family dinners are somewhere between a bribe, a trade, and a demand. Having them all gather regularly is important to Day. He’s seen the effects of not putting effort into making sure all of a parent's kids know they're loved and supported, as well as not feeling supported by those who matter to a person.
He knows what it's like to feel alone. He knows what it's like to have to claw and scrape his way out of miserable situations with nobody but himself to rely on.
Death is preferable to letting his kids know that kind of pain.
Then there’s how easily they lose track of time. He knows for a fact that most if not all of them would eat significantly less actual meals if he wasn't cooking for them.
Hunger is another thing he knows all too well. His own eating habits and mentalities surrounding it are still fucked up from his time in the Vault…not that they were ever good to begin with.
More than once, his kids have threatened a hunger strike if he didn’t eat with them.
Not for the first time, and far from the last, he feels a surge of exasperated pride and love at the memory of those four small faces twisted in outrage over him having just forgotten to eat despite having made food for them.
They had told him it was hypocrisy that he nagged them over eating while neglecting his own need for food. It had been in nearly that exact phrasing, too; Orph had gotten his hands on a new book and by Prime was he going to use his literary comprehension to make everyone else suffer.
He knows a warm, fond smile creeps up at that train of thought. It always does, and he’s long since stopped trying to hide how much he cares about his kids.
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tryingtograspctrl · 30 days
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CHANGE MY WAYS: RONNIE MATHIS X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER (final part)
SUMMARY - Unique takes ronnie to his old friend's house to keep him hidden, after a few weeks they get closer.
☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️
A few weeks later
Julianna was done wreaking havoc on the block so things were pretty much back to normal again, Unique suggested that Ronnie stay with y/n for a little while longer, just because one target was taken out doesn't mean he's safe. Ronnie fucked quite a few people over so there were still a few messes to clean up.
You were up early one morning deep cleaning the kitchen. Anything by swv played softly over the radio and you hummed along.
Ronnie sat up in bed rubbing his eyes and getting up to go use the bathroom.
He couldn't find his glasses anywhere in his room so he figured he must've left them in the living room.
He headed toward the kitchen stopping when he heard you singing.
He smiled a little to himself watching you place the cups in the rob cabinet after cleaning them.
You turned around smiling at him.
"Good morning ." You giggled.
"What's so funny?" He raised a brow.
"Oh nothing, i've just never seen you without your glasses before." Your smile got bigger.
"Yeah i know i look a little strange." He touched his face.
"What are you talking about? you look so cute." You complimented, taking your flowers down from the window to water them.
Ronnie just stood there for a moment staring at you, he'd never been called cute, maybe crazy, a creep, but never cute. It was weird, but in a good way.
He didn't look for his glasses for the rest of the day.
A few days later
"I heard your birthday is coming up, got anything special planned?" You asked Ronnie patching up a hole in one of your favorite shirts.
"Nah, i never really liked celebrating." He shook his head.
"Aww why not?" You looked up at him.
"Just not into parties, I'm not a fan of lots of people in large crowds." He shrugged.
"Hmm ok." You nodded storing that information in the back of your head for later.
He looked at you skeptically for a moment before turning back to the tv.
The special day
Ronnie huffed in irritation as he walked up the steps toward the front door. Unique had him running all over the city today and all he wanted to do was get something to eat and crash.
He opened the door to find all of the lights off, which was strange because you usually kept the one in the kitchen on.
He felt around for the light switch flicking it on when his fingers found it.
"Surprise!" You shouted blowing a party whistle.
He looked around the room seeing pans of food, balloons and confetti everywhere.
"I know you said you didn't like parties but i figured you wouldn't mind since it's only us two, i made all of your favorites and i got you a cake from the bakery Nique said you liked." You rambled pulling him toward the dining room table.
He smiled as you fixed him a plate.
"Hold on." You grabbed a party hat placing it on his head and putting one on yourself as well.
"We should take a picture too, just for memories." You grabbed your camera setting it on the table.
You started the timer and quickly ran over toward Ronnie squatting beside him with your hands resting on his thigh and a big smile.
He just looked at you fondly, not caring about a picture.
After that you both sat down and ate dinner, you talked and talked about anything under the sun and Ronnie just listened enjoying the sound of your voice.
"Come on so i can give you your birthday present." You dragged him to the couch.
"I'm gonna give you a nice facial and massage, you're always so tense i think you need it." You explained.
"Can i take these off?" You pointed to his glasses.
"Yeah." He nodded.
You removed them gently and placed them on the table softly.
You grabbed a little basket filled with face products and got to work.
Time skip
By the time you were finished Ronnie had fallen asleep, so much for a massage afterwards.
You stood walking toward the kitchen to put up the leftovers.
You bent over placing a few pans in the stove, when you stood up straight again you jumped slightly, your back hitting a hard chest.
"Oh hey, you ready to blow out your candles?" You whipped around facing him.
He stared at you in silence for a moment, almost like he was contemplating something.
"You must be tired still, we can call it a night if you want." You leaned against the counter slightly.
He grabbed your waist pressing you flush against him, cupping your soft round cheeks in his hands he leaned down and kissed you soft and slow.
You pawed at his chest moaning.
He patted your thick thighs signaling for you to jump and you did just that wrapping your legs securely around his waist.
He led you to the bedroom placing you down gently on the bed.
He kissed your cheek trailing his lips down to your neck.
You let your head rest on the memory foam enjoying the tingling sensation his lips left on your skin.
"Can i take this off?" He tugged at the end of your dress.
"Yes." You spoke breathlessly.
He quickly pulled it above your head leaving you in your bra and underwear.
You crossed your arms over yourself, the slight chill of the room making you shiver.
He threw your arms to the side taking a handful of your breasts.
He unclasped you bra throwing it on the floor. He began licking and sucking your breasts popping one of your nipples into his mouth.
You gasped as arousal pooled in your stomach.
He kissed down your stomach stopping just below your belly button.
He looked up at you for permission and when you nodded he parted your legs.
He ran his fingers up and down your pussy, your wetness instantly coating his hand.
He licked a stripe through your folds causing you to whine.
He began eating you out, nipping and sucking on your clit.
Your back arched slightly off the bed as he inserted a finger inside you.
It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, shaking as he sucked every last bit of your orgasm out of you.
"Don't get tired yet baby, we just getting started." He spoke before locking lips with you again.
You got turned on again, tasting yourself on his lips.
He ran the tip of his dick between your folds before inserting himself inside you.
You gasped at the feeling of being filled.
He moved slow at first, making sure to take his time with you.
"You had a nigga hooked from the moment i layed eyes on you. Inviting me in your home with no hesitation even though you didn't know me from a can of paint." He spoke in your ear resting his head between your neck and shoulder.
"Feeding me, keeping me company, taking care of me like you knew me your entire life. So sweet even to a nigga like me." He kissed the side of your face.
"I'm not the easiest to deal with, damn sure not the easiest to be around but you didn't let none of that phase you, still being nice to me, smiling at me all sweet and shit." He sped up his strokes slightly.
"Walking round here in them little short, ass spilling out. Surprised i didn't bend you over weeks ago." He groaned as you clenched around him.
You teared up slightly at his words his confession tugged at your heart.
You moaned loudly as you felt yourself getting closer.
"Cum for me baby, cum on this dick." He sped up again.
You threw your head back as you came.
He continued to fuck you senseless and you whined trying to push him away.
"I'm barley getting started and you already running. We ain't nowhere near done baby, imma fuck this pussy so good, make it mine, nobody else's." He flipped you over.
Thanks if you read this through to the end, i appreciate you! I have so many more ideas so i hope you stick around. 🌻
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multistylemadness · 2 years
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⠀   ⠀⠀  Thinking about Albedo being self convinced he cannot feel anything - and frankly I don’t think that he can - up until he meets Traveler. Klee. As well as the rest of the gang. I think its also why he dislikes talking to others, because the emotional burden that becomes his to have to learn to hold. Is something he is disinterested in, but also a bit overwhelmed for. 
⠀   ⠀⠀  Relationships are often not so straightforward, and there isn’t such a single simple science to it. The science that is there, often is complicated in itself and way off the spectrum of interests or values. To what Albedo studies currently. He is definitely Neurodivergant, and would even color him as someone whom has either ADHD or Autism. Maybe even both, as a understanding of how his personality works. ⠀   ⠀⠀  He hyper focuses on work, and things that are interesting to him. While showing he is CAPABLE of being attentative and affectionate to people he decides to place in a corner of: Important in his mind.I dont believe it helps that the snapshots of information we got about him, Rhinedottir, Durin, and Albedo 2.0. Lead us to believe that Albedo did not have the best ‘normal’ or ‘human’ life one can imagine. From what we can see, he was picked and challenged the same way Hallow Knights story work. Where Albedo here, was the winner. To live up to these winnings he needed to continue to emulate perfection, while Rhinedottir studied him and used him for her own interests. ⠀   ⠀⠀  Further, the small mention’s he makes and how he has introspection on others. Or family in general, it seems that Albedo conceptually wants to have attachment to family ideas. Or others, but seems to lack the understand. Or care to - and rather DOES but has a strange out look of it. Kind of like how Twilight/Loid acts in SPY x FAMILY. I think Loid is a perfect comparison when it comes to understanding Albedo and his relationship with Klee. As he possibly doesn’t understand her, but cares for her deeply in the way that he himself can. Even going so far as to support her bomb making. ⠀   ⠀⠀  anya voice: I want a gun with a silencer ⠀   ⠀⠀  loid sighing: maybe for xmas ⠀   ⠀⠀  Klee: I want a bomb that makes bigger boom. ⠀   ⠀⠀  albedo sighing: maybe for your next birthday, Ill let your mom know. ⠀   ⠀⠀  To be fair one of my favorite notable things in his characterization, is how he comes off as someone having lied and potentially being evil. Yet is actually the opposite, and is someone who is not really capable of evil actions. Understanding the weight and destruction of being a malleable force - more like its too much energy to be evil. He mocks the idea of others thinking him being in some way, finding it entertaining itself. Not because he wants to be, but merely because the idea that he is so misunderstood at times. People would think him evil. That is to say, he seems to understand the scale of morality heavily, BUT isnt afraid to act out unlike human nature. Or what would be percieved as ‘human.’ See the end of the second event involving him & the mountains. With Albedo #2. Meaning if he  felt the need to kill someone was necessary - he would do so without so much as grimacing. ⠀   ⠀⠀  He also REALLY loves people, and enjoys others from the outside looking in. What bothers him is just being INVOLVED with these relationships. Making him uncomfortable, he enjoys living vicariously through others and their successes in relationships. Yet does not really wish to be bound by them or burdened by them. However, again... He is curious about them and interested. ⠀   ⠀⠀  Almost as if currently Albedo is developing a human nature, whilst the Traveler talks more to him.
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nct-oli · 3 years
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I’ve never been attached to a Thai actor in the way I am with EarthMix. Not at all that I haven’t loved and supported others before, but I would just occasionally see what they were up to on social media as it passed through my sphere.
But with EarthMix, I have post notifications turned on, I follow update accounts, etc. I’m excited for every and all activities, and I can tell you actual information about their lives (in a non-creepy way obviously) that I never really bothered to learn about other actors before.
Point being, those two are freaking SPECIAL, and I’m so grateful to be their fan now. I can’t imagine 2021 without them bringing me regular joy. :’)
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nxrthmizu · 3 years
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happy birthday — tsukishima kei
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pairing | tsukishima kei x reader
genre | fluff
w.c | 1.6k
↪ part two of this
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second chance // an opportunity to try something again after failing one time
tsukishima kei wasn't expecting anyone. sure, it was his birthday, but he did have work the next day, and wasn't very keen on drinking himself senseless into the witching hour.
since yamaguchi, his mother, and akiteru had taken it upon themselves to inform half of japan of his birthdate, kei had just spent the past four hours repeating 'thank you' to people ranging from his junior high schoolmates and strangers he had never met. he was certain that 99% of the players involved with the japan volleyball league had shown up, much to the amazement of his museum colleagues.
the bell rings for the third time, and kei is suddenly hyperaware of how annoying the sound is. he had just sat down, for goodness's sake— was it too much to ask for one minute of rest?
with his socializing energy at an all-time-low, kei nearly tears the door off his hinges, greeting his unwelcome visitor with a fierce snarl. "what do you want—" the words clamp down on his throat, breaking his airflow for a whole five seconds as he stares, utterly floored. "... y/n?"
"...hey?" you look sheepish, holding a small, one-cake-slice-sized box in your hand. he's known you long enough to know that you did your makeup on the fly— the tremble of your eyeliner is a sure giveaway. "... uh... is this a bad time? cause i can come back later—"
"no!" he blurts, hands slamming onto the door frame. he hadn't caught a glimpse of you in six months, ever since that fateful night when you walked out through the same door you were now standing in front of. there wasn't a single night in those six, grueling months that he didn't think about you, or the warm feeling of having you contained within his arms. sure, there were nights when you two fought, heading to bed with your backs faced to each other— but when morning came, you would somehow be in his arms, and somehow kei just knew that things would blow over.
except maybe they didn't.
left with too much time to think, he analyzed every little argument the two of you ever had, critically examining every word he uttered. perhaps the break was needed— the two of you needed to take a step backwards, re-assessing what you two wanted for each other, what you two wanted together. what you said that night hadn't be wrong— there were just too many issues being swept under the rug, too many things you weren't communicating about, too many problems he elected to ignore, in hopes that they would just 'blow over'.
"i mean," he clears his throat, lifting his hand off the doorframe, groaning at the paint scratch he caused. "would... would you like to come in?"
mentally, he smacks his forehead. you don't need permission to enter! in his mind, kei still considers the apartment your home, too. even if you haven't stepped foot within its grounds for half a year.
"if that's okay?" you smile softly, holding up your cake box. "you've probably had some already, but i bought your favorite. if you're full, you could have it tomorrow morning, before work?"
"no, no, i'm not that full." kei instantly assures, even though he's already brushed his teeth. on normal circumstances, he would leave it for the next morning, but what was brushing his teeth one more time if he got to talk to you for the first time in over a hundred-eighty days?
you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "don't lie to me, tsukishima kei. i can smell your toothpaste. i'll leave it in the fridge."
a fond smirk dances over his lips as you brush past him into your apartment, leaving your shoes where you always do on the shoe rack. the sound of your sock-clad feet padding past the living room brings a truckload of tension that kei didn't know he had off his shoulders, and all of a sudden, the house feels a thousand times cozier, even if nothing materialistic has changed.
he watches you from the sofa as you bustle around the kitchen, and he knows by the number of beeps on the electric stove that you're boiling water for tea— green, probably. the ration of tea packets are restocked regularly, because when you moved in, you brought your tea addiction with you, too. kei's been lured into drinking it on a daily basis, right after dinner, as a way of calming himself down after a day of work and practice. typically, tea would be accompanied with you, snuggled up against his side as he complained about the kids he met at work that day (you both knew that he had a secret fondness for them, but shhh).
"i hope you don't mind. i made tea." you say, bringing the glass teapot you were adamant on buying a year ago. it was one of the best purchases kei ever made in the apartment, because he was reminded of the worth every single time the two of you did your regular tea routine.
"of course i don't mind." he replies instantly, picking up his mug (the green one with tiny dinos on the edge). "this is still your home, too. you don't have to ask to do anything."
he pretends not to see the flash of surprise across your features.
"right." you murmur, pressing your mug onto your lips, blowing gently on the surface.
the two of you sit in silence for a while, sipping on your tea as the clock ticks onto eleven o' clock. suppressing the urge to ask you to stay, kei taps the surface of his porcelain cup rhythmically, forgetting that you know all his tells, front to back.
"is there something on your mind?" you ask gently, setting your mug down. he grimaces.
"ah... it's nothing." kei brushes off, not wanting to come onto you too quickly. for all he knew, you were just here to deliver the cake, not to reignite whatever was left of the relation he let simmer for too long...
"... right." the tone of your voice spells i-know-you're-lying-to-me,-but-i'll-let-it-go-for-now.
the silence continues, like a set prolonged. it's starting to get on kei's nerves when you (thankfully) speak again.
"happy birthday."
"thank you." even though he's said those words a thousand times that night, it sounds a comparatively much less robotic than it had for the previous thousand times. perhaps it was thousand-first time's the charm. "i mean it. thank you for coming over."
you wave it off. "i couldn't have not come. tadashi sent me an invite, but my boss needed me to work late and i didn't manage to make it."
ah, so that was why his best friend routinely glanced at the entrance nervously throughout the night. that explained a lot.
"i don't mind." kei takes a sip of his green tea, enjoying the warmth that courses through his chest. it isn't warmer than the warmth you give him, though. "i like it like this. ... just the two of us, i mean."
you contemplate him for a moment. "i like it like this, too." you confess quietly, as if whispering a childhood secret to him behind the karasuno gym.
he couldn't bear it any longer. he's always been patient, yes, but he's seen the looks his mother and brother threw him through the night, because they both knew that the one person that really mattered wasn't there. he was pretty sure his mother was just about to introduce him to some random girl before he excused himself for the night.
"will you stay?" he blurts, feeling very un-tsukishima-kei-like. it isn't like him at all, to be brash, and bold, but how can he? for the past four hours, he's talked to countless people— heck, half of them were volleyball celebrities— but not the one he wanted to talk to.
"do you want me to?" you ask softly, shyly, and kei knows that you're thinking if he wants you back— which is stupid, honestly. he knows that you're always thinking that you're lucky to have him, when it should be the other way around. kei doesn't think there's anyone else willing to put up with his dry humor, his hectic schedule, and his dinosaur memorabilia. if anything, he should be the one thanking the gods for letting him have you.
"don't be stupid." he snaps, cringing internally at how his tone came off. "of course i want you to stay, you're the best thing that happened to me. i won't force you, but—"
"i left some clothes here, right?" you cut him off with a hum, and when kei looks into your eyes, he just knows.
there's still a long, long, long way for the two of you to go. there's still plenty of things he needs to learn. there's a pile of issues in the store room that needed to be tended to.
for every million arguments there are a billion conversations where you two need to sit down and work out the knots. for every insecurity, for every misunderstanding, for every conflict, there is a needed effort to clean up the mess properly instead of just sweeping it under the floorboards. but for every tangle there lies between the two of you, there is a universe of room to grow, and change.
kei knows he's willing to make an effort, for you. kei knows that he's willing to do anything to make sure you don't walk out that door without looking back again. kei knows he's willing to do every single thing he can do (and can't) to make it work.
he knows.
he looks into your eyes, and he smiles.
everything is going to be alright.
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haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester @fandomsgotmefucked
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pillow-anime-talk · 3 years
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favorite types of kisses.
synopsis: Where do they love to be kissed? And where do you love to be kissed by them?
# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; fluff; kisses & PDA in general; sfw & suggestive
includes: gender neutral reader ft. ciel phantomhive, sebastian michaelis, grell sutcliff, undertaker, snake & lau {kuroshitsuji}
author’s note: huh, so i watched ‘kuroshitsuji’ and i’m a full-fledged simp now.
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— CIEL
↘ Kisses on the CHEEKS; are Ciel’s favorites. They are kisses for literally any occasion – for good morning, for goodbye, for good luck at work. It’s a kiss that can be made while saying wishes, for a good night’s sleep or for a safe journey. When you peck Ciel on that part of his face, he feels appreciated and at peace. Your lips are extremely delicate and warm, perfectly harmonizing with the cool and porcelain skin of his whole body. Additionally, when you show him affection, he has the courage to smile slightly, not even worrying about Sebastian’s later jokes about his own, crimson blushes. Your kisses are soothing and the Young Lord can never get enough of them, so give them to him as often as possible.
↘ Kisses on the NOSE; it’s the kind of kiss Ciel gives you on many possible chances. They are cute and you’re cute to him too, so he usually kisses you on the nose when you’re happy or when something incredibly fantastic happened, for example, you won a game of chess with someone or you received something from your parents (or from your future husband) like tickets for spectacle you really wanted to go to. Pecks on the nose are short and precious, but incredibly memorable and heart-warming. Plus, they’re sometimes very playful, so you can experience that side of Ciel that no one else can see now or ever.
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— SEBASTIAN
↘ Kisses on the HANDS; it’s the most intimate kiss for a demon, for a butler, who has no right to touch others, even with gloves on. That’s why when you hold them and kiss his wrists, knuckles, fingers, nails, he feels so sinless. He feels human and just plain good. However, the tall man still wonders, how can you voluntarily kiss his hands? After all, these are hands that have taken so many (often pure) lives. Which had seduced so many people before. Which are cold, rough and unhealthily pale. And yet you still do it, always with the same innocent smile on your charming face that makes Sebastian feel that he has some positive emotions inside him, in his black soul. You will definitely be his death one day.
↘ FOREHEAD kisses; it’s the most tender kiss you can get from another person, from a lover, from a partner, from a person who’s the whole life for one side of couple. Sebastian doesn’t kiss you often. He only does this on important occasions, such as when it’s your birthday or when it’s Christmas. However, when you get hurt or you are sick, I’m sure that you will feel his lips on your forehead more than once, not only so that the black-haired man can feel your body temperature, but most of all, to make you feel that he’s close to you and you can always rely on him, even if it’s some small, even stupid thing or request. After all, he’s not simply one hell of a butler, but also a simply one hell of a good and kind lover, if you want to.
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— GRELL
↘ JAWLINE kisses; Grell is a hot lover. They love every kind of kiss, however, there is one particular that they would literally die for. Jawline kisses are one of the sexiest kisses lovers can give each other. When you kiss them on the jawbone, Grell feels like you’re standing on the verge of kissing their lips and biting them on the pretty neck. It’s exciting not knowing which way you’re going to go on. This pinch of uncertainty and surprise is something they adore. Kissing on the jawline is also quite sloppy, and that happens quite often in your relationship, because after all, you both get busy with your own activities, so you have to show your affection quickly to enjoy each other more afterwards. However, it’s definitely worth waiting for the next such kisses.
↘ Kisses on the BARE SHOULDER; with Grell you feel cherished and desirable. They appreciate you like nobody else, compliment you like nobody else, caress you like nobody else. Your figure is the best canvas you can imagine for Grell, and your arm is like the first touch of a paintbrush. You love being kissed on the shoulder for two reasons – they’re intimate and affectionate, and at the same time, they can lead to more. You have a strange soft point for the Grell’s smile, and their teeth are your greatest weakness. Do you know how beautiful your shoulder look when Grell kisses or bites you there? They’ll definitely take some photos and toss them between the pages of their notebook as little bookmarks.
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— UNDERTAKER
↘ Kisses on the CHIN; he’s damn tall and likes to tease you so badly. He lives for fun, so watching you try to kiss him on the lips or on the face in general is his daily pleasure. You practically never reach where you want, so you end up kissing him on the chin, and at one point that kiss became a favorite for Undertaker. Why? Probably because it’s the kiss you ask for the most, the one you care about the most, the one you want to feel the most. You’re so adorable when you jump or stand on tiptoes to reach for a peck. And... don’t think that Undertaker will ever make things easier for you. You gotta try harder, shortie.
↘ Kisses on the LIPS; however, there are days when your boyfriend demands a kiss, when he wants intimacy that only you can give him. Therefore, he immediately kisses you on the mouth, without any prior warning. For example, when he’s sitting at his desk in his shop, he suddenly pulls you onto his thicc lap and gives you a few quick but warm kisses right on your lip-balm-tasting mouth. You love these moments because a kiss on the lips is the kiss closest to those in love, it’s a kiss reserved only for two people in a relationship. So, could there be anything better than showing affection in this way to a person who means so much to us? Definitely not.
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— SNAKE
↘ Kisses on the NECK; he will never admit it, but he likes the closeness you give him. He appreciates the sense of safety you show him every day. When you kiss him on the neck, on the scales that once seemed to him to be a defect or on his Adam’s apple he additionally feels that you want him like a normal and simple person, that you feel love and desire for him. It’s lascivious to kiss someone’s neck, you know that? That’s why when you do that, Snake melts. Your kisses on the neck, light bites, skin sucking are something that he associates with what he likes the most (apart from you, naturally), and these are his beloved snakes. When you kiss him on the larynx, he knows he’s helpless and vulnerable to you, so keep doing it and show him a lot of affection, okay? The boy definitely deserves it.
↘ Kisses on the TEMPLE; Snake is a sweet guy. He’s a bit shy and usually communicates with you through his pets who always help him tell you about his own feelings. When Oscar, Emily or Wilde tell him to give you a kiss on the temple, who would he be if he hadn’t obeyed their silent commands? He kisses you on the temples because he reaches to them perfectly. He kisses you on the temple because he thinks it’s a kiss that suits you both perfectly. He kisses you there because it’s a kiss that means a wish to protect you. You are important to him, and he wants to be as close to you as possible. He want you to know that he’s right next to your figure and these kisses always informs you about his presence and intentions through. You loves it, really.
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— LAU
↘ Kisses on the EYELIDS; his eyes are closed most of the time, which is why he likes to be cared with your kisses. I think his facial skin is really soft and smooth, so kissing his eyelids is pure pleasure for the two of you. Lau has a soft spot for your scent, so when you bend over to give him a peck on the eye, he smirks silly, inhaling your sweet perfume scent or your morning scent after a nice night in the soft sheets. Every time you kiss his eyelid, he may even be tempted to open his eyes to see you better. And he definitely don’t regret the moment when he does it, because your smile is the brightest thing within a radius of several kilometers.
↘ EAR kisses; sometimes he’s just an idiot. He knows this is one of your most sensitive places, very prone to tickling, to his nice breath, to his wet but hot tongue. He likes to tease you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like being teased. Kisses on the ear are intimate and private, they are often surrounded with a few whispers or compliments, and you love to feel appreciated and praised by him. Lau is the perfect lover, sometimes funny, sometimes serious, but no matter what the situation, you can count on him to give you a long kiss on the earlobe in the next few minutes. Your reactions are his favorite, so don’t count that he would ever stop doing it.
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Miscommunication
Request: Could I get a scenario with yuri pliset in which the reader comes home after they got in a fight
(You don’t have to write out the fight if you don’t wanna)
Thanks lovely and have a wonderful day
Title: Miscommunication
Genre: v e r y angsty, some v slight comedy near the end, and a tiny bit of fluff along with it
Pairing: Yuri Plisetsky x GN!Reader
Notes: So, this has officially marked a realization - it seems that Yuri Plisetsky is a particular favorite of all the characters that I write for. If that sounded a bit cocky (I seriously don’t know), I apologize. 
Anyway, I was absolutely blanking on what to write in regards to angst for Plisetsky (or really any character - I may hate reading angst, but boy is it fun to write). I must say, thank you, anon, for helping my block disappear! 
I hope you enjoy the scenario! 
Below the cut! 
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The room was silent as I sat on my bed, sheets a mess and my clothing strewn all over the floor. I sniffled into my sweatshirt sleeves and wiped my face of the dried tears. Everything felt dry, dull even. 
It didn’t feel right. 
Normally, this room wouldn’t feel like this. It would feel lively, fresh - sweet, even! Even the little teddy bear sitting on my desk wouldn’t normally look this mean, rather happy with eyes that would sparkle. Eyes the same color as those of the guy that knows me. 
Maybe he knows me a little too well. 
I mean, just a half hour earlier, we got into a fight. Not just a normal fight, nothing like before - this one was a little closer to home. 
The both of us are nearing a point, personally and with each other, that things are just starting to come together. That also means that things are starting to change between us. 
I want to go forward - tackle my own dreams and hopes while still going along with him. I’m an advanced student at school, I have a great future in front of me, and him and I have worked through this much. I already have my college of choice in mind, and I have a scholarship on lock. It would be a huge opportunity missed if I decide to let this chance fly to the wind. 
He wants to stay here - avoid the change, and stay together without anything else holding us back. Otherwise, there’s the unspoken ultimatum that was brought up, purely at the glance towards a picture framed on the TV stand in my family’s living area. 
It was one of us, him and I, when we had just met. I have always been a fan of his skating, even as a kid, but was never truly able to do it due to injuries that wouldn’t leave. I had always been instructed to be careful, so I resorted to watching competitions instead. 
I had gotten the chance to watch him compete as a gift for my 14th birthday, and after his scores had been finalized (and he won gold, of course), I was able to catch him before he left and got a picture. Sure, he was a little brash, but I didn’t want much. 
“Hi, I’m (Y/n)! I know you’re probably really stressed or about to do something, but if you wouldn’t mind, could I get a picture?”
He refused at first, leaving me a little bit dejected, but someone else under the same coach (Victor Nikiforov, I remember) had gotten him to do it. He was grumbling, dropping a couple complaints even, but agreed to the picture nonetheless. 
It wasn’t too long after that when I happened to get a job at the same rink that they practiced at. I worked almost everyday after school was done that if I wasn’t there after general hours, something was wrong. ‘
I ran into him there, and it was after that point, it was all uphill. 
We shared conversations and information about our lives, transitioned into exchanging phone numbers, and eventually getting to a point where we began dating. 
Things were tough at first, with him being everywhere on any day and not being able to talk often, but it was always after he returned that we managed. Frankly, it was great either way! 
But lately, stress is piling up on both of us. 
We’ve both got a future to consider, and while I want to go to school, I can tell that he doesn’t want me to leave. I don’t know if he realized that I don’t plan on leaving - I remember explaining it thoroughly before we got into it, but maybe he didn’t get it. 
“I’m not leaving, Yuri! I managed something with the-”
“But you are leaving! I don’t want to take you away from your dreams-”
“It doesn’t sound like it! I already discussed what I wanted, and I tried to make it work with us!”
“Did you? Did you really?”
“Yes, Yuri! Yes!”
“I’m not so sure that you did.”
“Yuri....”
“I’m leaving.”
I sighed, fighting back tears at the images of the time we first met, the times we hung out, and the fight....
It was always intense, even being friends with him, but this was already hard and we worked around it. I really just want to work around it now, but I’m not sure what caused this. 
A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts. I sniffled - seems like it was the umpteenth time in the past fifteen minutes alone - before gathering my bearings and walking towards the door. 
The modern appearance made me feel sick as I peeked through the peephole.
It was him. That blonde hair and shining blue-green eyes were unmistakable. 
“What is it, Yuri?” 
He cleared his throat, turning away from the door and mumbling his words just loud enough for me to hear after cracking the door. “Could I come in?”
I was hesitant to let him in, but ultimately decided to do so since there was no use dwelling - despite how much I wanted to forbid him from entering and cry myself to sleep tonight before discussing what went down. 
“I’m- damn...I’m- sorry. I’m sorry for what I did earlier,” he drawled under his breath, keeping his normally headstrong and willful glance to the floor. “I realize what you meant, maybe a little too late, but I can’t tell you what to do or where to go about your life.” 
I bit my lip, starting to chew it while he spoke. It took a few seconds for me to consider what to say. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve explained it more, or even chose a better time.” 
He shook his head. “(Y/n), no, I-”
“Yuri, we’re both sorry. It happened, and now it’s settled. Or, we can at least consider it as such.”
Silence fell upon us as we tried to find the words to say. Eventually, we settled on watching a movie on the sofa together to ease the tension. At this point, it didn’t matter what movie was chosen since anything would be able to break the tension. 
A comedy was the decision, and after a few scenes passed, a character was introduced. “Hey, doesn’t that guy kinda act like you?” I teased, looking up at Yuri as we eyed the screen. 
The guy’s cold eyes narrowed on the screen, and he cracked a stupid one-liner before the protagonist’s pet pounced on him and started to attack him. He taunted the cat, he had it coming. 
With a playful glare, Yuri glanced at me through his almost-transparent bangs. “Potya would never.” 
“Doubt it.”
“I know that cat better than-”
“Then prove it.” Taunts and teasing ensued afterwards, eventually ending with the both of us laughing and willing to test his cat to see if she really will try to tear us apart for a joke. 
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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years
Text
Coffee Shop Kisses
Pairing: Yelena Belova x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.5K
Request: something soft with Yelena from @bright-molina
Summary: After moving back to her small Ohio hometown, the reader bumps into an old friend at her favorite coffee shop.
Warnings: none ?
A/N: Happy incredibly belated Birthday Bianca!!! Sorry this took so long for me to write but I really hope you like it!! This fic has everything: the gays, some light pinning, and chai lattes !
Masterlist
___
You couldn’t believe you were back in your small Ohio hometown. When you moved away after high school it was never your intention to come back but clearly, fate didn’t have the same plans as you drove through your childhood neighborhood.
It was nostalgic, driving through the familiar streets despite the changes in the neighborhood since your childhood. While the houses had mostly remained the same, you knew many of their occupants had changed. The Browns no longer lived in the house two doors down from yours, having retired to Florida not long after their children had moved out, and many other family’s you’d known growing up had followed suit. Others had downsized to smaller houses in other parts of the city, no longer needing the extra space. Now the neighborhood was filled with new families, young parents taking advantage of the location to raise their children.
Still, the atmosphere was largely the same, and if you let yourself you could almost imagine that the kids playing in the front yards and the street or biking through the neighborhood, calling out to friends as they passed, were the kids you’d grown up with.
It was strange, being back home. It felt stranger still to call it “home.”
It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a routine, despite the lingering nostalgia. You woke up every morning with just enough time to get ready and drive downtown to work, if you were lucky you’d end up with a few extra minutes to stop into your favorite coffee shop from your teenage years, which was conveniently located a couple doors down from your office. It was simple, sure, but it worked for you.
On the weekends you always made a point to walk to that downtown coffee shop with a book or some other activity, preferring the ambiance and the subtle noise of the building and its other patrons over the still silence of your house. Plus they had amazing drinks so you really couldn’t lose.
Normally you enjoyed taking in the hustle and bustle of the small town around you as people completed their weekly errands, but that day you were lost in your head as you walked along the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if you were thinking about anything in particular (when reflecting back later you’d merely blame it on having had a long week at work), but rather than enjoy the people watching as you normally would, you let them all pass you by without a single glance, all the way down the street and into the line at your coffee shop. You ordered your usual without much fanfare, still having the presence of mind to drop your change into the tip jar on the counter. It wasn’t until you had gotten your drink that you were thrust out of your thoughts, quite literally.
You had only just turned around from the counter, about to start scanning the cafe for a seat when you were knocked to the ground, your drink spilling in your hands.
“Oh my god, are you alright?” Disoriented and still in a haze, the thick Russian accent of the woman who had spoken caught your attention.
A hand reached down into your line of sight and you took it gratefully, managing to keep the pitiful drops of unspilled chai latte in your cup as you were pulled to your feet.
“Let me buy you a new drink,” she offered though you barely heard her.
Now that you were back on your feet you got a better look at the woman who had bumped into you. She was of average height and had her blonde hair pulled into a double ponytail. You didn’t know any Russians but you could’ve sworn you’d met before.
“Do I know you?” You blurted out before you could think and the other woman blinked at you in surprise, brows lifting slightly.
“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “I used to live around here when I was younger.”
You narrowed your eyes at that, certain you would’ve remembered growing up alongside a Russian family, everyone you remembered was as American as they come. It was a small town in Ohio, after all.
“So did I,” you spoke slowly, still trying to ponder it out in your head. “Over on Brown.”
Her eyes narrowed at that, now scrutinizing you as well.
“I grew up on State Street.”
That’s when it clicked for you. You remembered them; family of four, two daughters. Natasha used to ride her bike down your street all the time which meant the woman in front of you must be…
“Yelena?”
“You remember me?”
“Yeah, holy shit! Your sister rode her bike through my mom’s flowers one time by accident, pissed her off for the whole summer. Plus, we went to preschool together.”
“Wait, Y/N Y/L/N?”
“In the flesh,” you replied, spreading your arms out dramatically.
Yelena took that as an invitation to really study you then, eyes flitting up and down as she fully took you in.
“You grew up quite nicely,” she spoke, tone appreciative and you found yourself blushing.
“I- I could say the same thing about you,” you stumbled over your words, feeling flustered. “I don’t remember you being Russian.”
You mentally cursed yourself for once again blurting something out before you could even think about it.
Yelena laughed at that and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sound. She had a cute laugh. It was fitting.
“Yes, well, my ‘family' and I were actually part of a Russian spy organization, sent to infiltrate a nearby SHIELD facility for some information, so,” she shrugged and you laughed at first, assuming she was joking before you realized she wasn’t laughing along.
“Wait, seriously?”
“Why would I lie?”
You fumbled around with your words at that, unable to come up with a proper response but feeling as though you needed to say something anyway.
“How about I buy you a drink and you tell me about it?” You finally settled on saying and Yelena’s brows lifted again in surprise.
“Sure, but I’m buying the drinks. I owe you for spilling your first one.”
You nodded in agreement, somehow having forgotten all about your spilled drink in the excitement of reconnecting with an old friend. An old friend who was very attractive, if you were being fully honest with yourself.
With new drinks ordered and retrieved, the two of you made your way to a small table by the front window of the cafe. True to your agreement, Yelena explained to you that her “family” when she’d lived in Ohio wasn’t actually her family at all, the entire thing fabricated for their mission, and that after their success she continued to work for the organization before finally getting out as an adult. She skimmed on a lot of the details but you got the sense that the entire ordeal was traumatic for her so you didn’t press. Though, you were quite amazed that the woman across from you (and the tiny blonde girl you’d played dolls with as a kid) was a former spy and assassin. In comparison, your own life story was much less exciting, though you guessed it also held much less trauma as well. Still, Yelena asked and she listened intently as you explained how you’d wound up back in your hometown all these years later.
After that, the conversation seemed to flow seamlessly from one topic to another, and it was so nice to talk to a friend and catch up that you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you went to take a sip from your long-forgotten chai and found it ice cold. You checked your phone and were surprised to see that nearly two hours had passed and while you were planning on spending much longer at the cafe anyway, it still caught you off guard.
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Yelena asked, having noticed you checking the time.
“No!” You rushed to reassure her before flushing slightly at the knee-jerk reaction. “No, I just hadn’t realized how much time has passed. It’s been really nice to see you.”
“It’s been nice to see you too, perhaps we can do this again sometime?”
“I’d like that a lot.” You tried to fight the heat that you felt rushing to your cheeks once more. You weren’t sure if she meant it the same way you did.
“Me too,” she replied softly, ducking her head so that her face was out of view. “I actually do have to get going but maybe we can meet here again next week?”
“Absolutely!” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager and failing miserably. “It’s a date.”
Once again the words slipped out on their own accord and you were left scrambling to do damage control.
“I- I mean like, y’know-”
“A date is good,” Yelena cut you off with a smirk, though you could’ve sworn you could see your own nerves reflected in her eyes.
“A date then,” you agreed, flashing a nervous smile.
“Goodbye, Y/N.” She stood from her chair with a smile, pausing on her way to the door to press a quick peck to your cheek, and then she was gone.
You sat there, still as a statue, for quite some time afterward, your fingertips lightly grazing over where Yelena’s lips had been moments before. You really loved this coffee shop.
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user21340 · 3 years
Text
my only exception
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(i don’t own this gif or any of the characters in this fic)
summary: you and nat are separated when in the Red Room. you both are reunited. after holding onto a couple things to give her for a couple years you both realize love is well and alive.
warnings: violence, abuse, swearing, lil angst, fluff
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
word count: nearly 1.8k
a/n: omg i don’t know what to say! thank you for all the support on the stuff i’ve released so far. it’s super crazy seeing some of my favorite writers following me. thank you so so much for 30 followers! much love 💕💕
(italics in dialogue mean the person is speaking russian)
sorry for any mistakes i wrote this at 3am and have to get up for school at 6 😪 no bueno
It was a cold and stormy night as the power in the Red Room continuously flickered on and off even with the help of a high powered generator.
You and Natalia had been waiting for an event like this to occur so you could break out. Even though both herself and you lived only a small bit of life outside in the real world before you were taken in and trained to become a weapon, both of your humanly morals knew right from wrong. The Red Room’s treatment definitely being a wrong.
Madame B and the other monstrous staff at this facility put all you girls to bed roughly an hour ago. Nat and yourself undid your cuffs connecting your wrist to the metal bedframe so you could pack the few things you both owned before you made your escape. Both of you had talked this plan over through and through so you both were on the same page as soon as you saw that flicker of a power outage surge though the site.
At the moment you both were eighteen years old meaning both of you had proven yourselves worthy enough to hone a spot at this academy and had graduated a couple months prior.
GAME PLAN
Some information you had gathered which the staff weren’t aware of was every time the power flickered off, it disarmed and unlocked the exit door/s for nearly five seconds. The weather has been dry but cold lately not making this discovery too useful. The plan was to sneak over to uncuff yourselves in the middle of the night when these brief power outages were occurring, pack your items, and as you were about to escape bang on the wall of the large room where the girls kept at the academy would sleep to create enough of a distraction before you were out and free for good. Easy right? How wrong you’d be.
When it was time for the distraction, Nat stood by the door waiting for the next surge of lightning of whatever broke the electricities stability as you walked to the far side of the sleeping quarters where you were sure you’d have enough time to bang on the walls and sprint out of that door.
You heard a crash of thunder so you knew your escape chance would be soon. As you were about to start banging on the walls you see a door knob parallel to Nat but far away none the less start turning.
BAM
Lightning strikes, what seems to be right outside of the building. You sprint for the door only to have your arm caught by one of Madame B’s henchmen.
Just like that the power flickers.
five.
Without much thought you break away from the man’s grasp lunge at Natalia who happened to be at the door.
four.
“We’ll meet again Natalia.” you speak softly
three.
You shove her out of the door with all of your might.
two.
You use all of your remaining strength that you can muster up to slam the heavy metal door closed.
one.
Click
The door locks once again.
“You stupid little bitch. Get over here NOW!” the man practically growls.
You slowly and steadily walk over to the man as he gruesomely pummels and kicks you.
Sure the beatings, mind torture and manipulation hurt, but you’ve never experienced any kind of pain on the same caliber to what being separated from Natalia feels like.
Madame B is more than disappointed, enraged and annoyed with one of her ‘star students’. You receive daily beatings and long, tiresome training hours for helping Natalia escape. Although everyone is ‘replaceable’ in the minds of the staff as well as Madame B, they just lost Natalia so they couldn’t afford to lose you as well.
Months later the beatings finally slow down to a couple a week which you are able to endure. Madame’s mission now is to make a monster out of you by pushing you to and past your limits when training.
One night you finally drift off to sleep. You hate sleeping. It’s a constant replay of your last night with Nat. Only hoping that she made it to civilization safe and sound and is living a normal teens life. However, tonight’s dream is different. In this dream you see yourself shoving your packed-escape bag between your mattress and bedframe as you are bleeding out on the ground from the beatings. You wake up in a cold sweat and manage to kneel on the ground and slowly lift up your mattress only to find that same, small bag filled with the few, but important belongings of yours and Nat’s. You open up the bag forgetting all about what you both had packed. The most important items you see is a picture of Natalia as a toddler with alongside her mother and father, a small metal ring which you had made for her after stealing a small teaspoon at dinner, banging it against the concrete floor with a rock to flatten it out as you’d continuously bend it back and fourth so only the thinnest part is of the spoon is left which you bend into a ring before surprising Nat with it after you know she had a pretty rough day training, and lastly Nat’s papers containing important info about her such as her full name, birthplace, parents names, and birthdate.
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
November 22, 1984
You make sure you have this date burned into your head, latching onto any important information about her you can learn.
You hang onto those three items keeping them hidden.
Two and a half years later...
It’s late at night when you hear gunshots and fights breaking out throughout the facility. You quickly get up out of bed (once again undoing your cuffs) and grab those three items from under your mattress. You place them in your pocket getting ready to make a break for the outside world. As you reach for the door you turn back taking one last look at the place you’ve been living for pretty much the entirety of your life, only before a man in a funny red, white, and blue costume enters your view.
You bring your hands up ready for a fight.
“Look kid, I’m not here to fight you. We are breaking you out.” the man ensures
“Who even are you?” you sternly question
“Steve Rogers. But the public calls me Captain America.” his gaze settles on your figure, “Mind telling me who you are?” he pushes
“Names y/n, but look I’ve got places to be ma-“ you are cut off when Captain America’s jaw drops.
“No, we both know you don’t. But, you ARE coming with me.” you know there isn’t much room for protest but that won’t stop you from trying. You lunge at him and push him to the ground as you wave a small goodbye and sprint towards the door only for your body to fall on the ground limp. Realizing you’ve been stunned by something temporarily.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” you shriek, he only chuckles.
“God, Nat was right about you.” she shakes he head with a small grin on his face.
“N-nat?” you whisper as you vision fades black.
You regain consciousness and look around only to find yourself in a weird windowy, loud vehicle type thing. You see a group of people standing around you but you see one particular familiar face hovering directly over yours lightly combing through your hair with one one hand and gently outlining your jawline with the other.
“NAT!” you screech, your brain is feeling too many emotions to comprehend at the moment.
Once she sees and hears you are awake she pulls you into a bone crushing hug.
“Y/n/n I’m so sorry I left you and you had to stay in that hellhole for so long alone I don’t know how I would’ve help up it if that-“ you cut her off
“Natalia, all that matters is I’m here with you right now.” you reason.
After getting off of what you learned is a ‘plane’ you and Nat spend hours together clinging onto one another as if, as soon as you separate you will be absent in her life for another couple years, vice versa.
Months pass by. Even though you and Nat have yet to label yourselves as a couple your hearts belong to one another after being attached to the hip to one another for pretty much every activity or mission you both do. In this time you were also recruited as an Avenger due to your skillful hand to hand combat and your masterful types of fighting you have nearly perfected from your time in the room.
The date just happens to be November 22. You are pretty sure no one in the compound is aware of Natalia’s birthday, hell, you aren’t even sure if she’s aware.
Today is the day you decide to return the missing items from her bag that you recover after she left.
You wake up next to her and wake her up with a long, graceful, soft kiss on her lips to which she responds shortly after by kissing you back as you feel as tiny smirk against your own lips.
“Hey, what was that for?” she asks playfully
“Ohhh nothing. Just maybe it’s for my favorite girl’s special day today.” Nat blushes.
“H-how’d you know?”
“Oh honey, I know e v e r y t h i n g.” you reply
Before she can respond you pull her to sit up on your shared bed and hand her an envelope containing her papers as well as he one and only photo of herself and her family.
As soon as she sees both items she sobs into your chest. (more because of the picture, you really only included her papers so she too would know all the most crucial parts of her life pre-red room era.
“Uh, uh, uh’” you tut,”One more thing.” you reach for her hand slowly and tell her to shut her eyes. You slowly slide the makeshift ring on her finger.
“Open.” you instruct
To which she gasps at the sight and just like the day you both were reunited you hugged and kissed for hours on end.
“Nat, will you be my girlfriend?” you ask with a sheepish smile.
“Of course y/n/n, I thought you’d never ask.” she takes a breath,“I know love is for children, but you are my only exception.”
“Ditto.” Natalia chuckles, “That is what the Americans say, right?” you backtrack with flushed cheeks.
She holds you tighter and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Sure.” she breathes out.
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taetaespeaches · 3 years
Text
“When I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean.”
yoongi x reader (oc)
genre: fluff; smut (just barely at the end)
word count: 2.8K
a/n: Hi lovelies! It’s Yoongi day!!!! This is the night Yoongi starts working on People for his mixtape and he and Kid/reader have a long conversation about life, people, and the meaning of everything. Idek if the conversations make full sense but that’s kind of what I like about them, these two are just bullshitting and getting to know each other even more and I think it’s sweet. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))
And happy birthday to our favorite honey boy 🍯💛
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Seated on Yoongi’s studio couch, your eyes scanned over the words of the paperback novel in your hands as the sounds of the beats from the man’s computer started and stopped at random, filling the room with evidence of his genius and artistry. As you turned the page, the man sat back against his chair with a small huff, your gaze lifting from the book to your boyfriend.
You waited a moment, seeing if he was going to initiate conversation or if he was simply taking a quick moment to himself. However, when his head turned to peer behind him, sneaking a glance at you, you couldn’t help the upward curve of your lips.
“Hey,” he chuckled lightly, your smile growing.
“What’s up, Honey Boy?”
He appeared bashful, as if he was embarrassed and almost guilty for interrupting your reading. Lowering the book to the cushion next to you, holding your place with your finger, you cocked your head.
“Would you mind giving this a listen real quick?” He asked shyly, your eyes widening in slight surprise. Yoongi asking for your opinion on his music wasn’t new or even rare, but the tentativeness in his demeanor certainly was. The man could be bashful when sharing his work, but rarely hesitant.
Nodding at him, he sat back up and pressed play on the track. It was different than anything he’d ever shown you before, the slow melodic flow of the song, paired with interesting xylophone-type of sound, immediately capturing you. Your eyebrows pulling together as you listened, a focus overtaking you.
It was just the instrumental, but it felt comforting; calming.
“This is from,” he thought out loud, “2016 probably.”
“It’s amazing, Yoon,” you complimented sincerely. “I’m actually kind of offended you’ve had this all this time just hiding in your hard drive,” you teased with a smile, Yoongi chuckling as he spun his chair around to face you.
“You think I should use it for the mixtape?” He asked, already knowing he should, but seeking your opinion anyway.
“Definitely,” you told him as you lifted the book, only to fold the corner of the page down. Dropping the novel onto the couch, you stood and easily approached the man, his gaze following you intently as you neared him. Leaning against his desk, Yoongi spun in his chair so he continued to face you. “It’s really good.”
Giving you a single appreciative nod, he held back a grin. “Thank you,” he whispered, the shyness in his gratitude adorable, making you smile. “I love your smile,” he told you suddenly, a small breathy chuckle escaping your lips.
“Thanks,” you told him quickly, trying to brush over the compliment, feeling bashful under his gaze. You both simply stared at one another, both of your minds trying to decipher each other’s expressions.
“What is it?” Yoongi asked you, clueless as to what was going on in your mind, but knowing there was something weighing on it.
With a small sigh, you flashed him a small smile. “Do you think I’m a good person?” You asked him, the man’s eyebrows pulling together.
“I do,” he replied simply, though his expression remained the same. “Why?”
“I saw an old friend today,” you told him as you lifted yourself onto the desk so you were seated atop it, your feet dangling above the floor.
Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hands coming to rest on your knees.  
“She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her,” you continued. “We used to be so close in school and now, it’s like I hardly know her,” you told him, the fragility of your voice apparent to your own ears, so you knew Yoongi heard it too. “She has a baby I had no idea about.”
Yoongi stared at you thoughtfully, locking his eyes with yours, a rare occurrence for him. “Why is that making you concerned about your goodness as a person?”
“I just-” you paused thoughtfully. “I let that relationship fade away. You know, I was the one who stopped communicating, I was the one who cancelled plans, I just pulled away and withdrew.”
“That doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human,” he informed you, his thumbs soothing along the insides of your thighs, just above your knee caps. “People change.”
Nodding in understanding, you directed a small tight smile at him. “You know, as happy as I am with my life and the people in it,” you scrunched your nose, poking his hand with your finger to emphasize his important role among those people, Yoongi letting a small smile grace his features, “I feel nostalgic for something,” you finished. Lifting his hand from your leg, he wrapped it around your own hand, holding it comfortingly in his grasp. His palm was as warm as his considerate gaze, and you realized for the hundredth time that Yoongi was warmth embodied. “Does everyone feel like this or is there something wrong with me?” You scoffed lightly at yourself.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” He teased, making a small giggle leave your lips as you softly jerked your knee up to bump his arm in light-hearted complaint. “I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think I miss the person I was before,” he looked around the studio, “you know, all this,” he admitted, referring to his career.
Leaning toward him, you listened intently, your orbs scanning his features as he pondered over the thoughts within his mind.
“Maybe not even the person, but the life,” he elaborated, you humming in understanding.
“Do you find that it was a simpler time?” You asked, intrigued by his words.
“Not so much simpler but just different, I guess,” he thought out loud. “It feels like I sacrificed the ordinary for the extraordinary,” he added, latching his gaze onto your legs as you stared down at him. “And now the ordinary becomes extraordinary,” he said, lowering his chin to your knees as his fingers picked at the fraying around the hole in your jeans.
Your free hand that wasn’t being held by his found its way to his hair, your fingers digging into his soft strands.
“I sound ungrateful,” he chuckled dryly against your legs, you shaking your head despite him not seeing it, his eyes still glued to the hole in your clothing.
“No, just human,” you spoke up. “It’s natural to long for those realities that belong to some but not to us,” you assured him, the man rotating his face so his cheek rested against your leg, his orbs gazing up at you.
“People dream of having my life though,” he mumbled, his lips slightly pouted making him look precious despite the negative thoughts swirling around his head and leaving that adorable pout. “And here I am just wishing I could walk down the street without a care in the world,” he smiled a bit. “Am I even a good person? I feel greedy.”
Brushing your fingers through his hair, you pouted, watching him for a moment before responding. “I’m biased, but I think you are.”
“You sure?” He quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes that made you smile as a breathy chuckle left your lips.  
“You’re a good person, Yoongi, I won’t have you thinking otherwise,” you insisted with a glare, Yoongi’s lips curving into a grin in response.
“My life isn’t any more special than anyone else’s,” he suddenly decided. “Just different.”
Nodding at him, you agreed. “You’re just a person.” Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, preparing to tease you for the lackluster conclusion, your mouth already shaping into a knowing smile. “But my favorite person,” you added. “So that’s something.”
Placing a kiss to your jean adorned knee, he grinned. “It’s everything.”
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“I think it has meaning,” you noted, your and Yoongi’s conversation taking several different paths throughout the past forty-five minutes or so. You were now talking about the meaning of life, and whether there was a meaning at all. “I just don’t know what,” you added with a shy smile.
Yoongi’s gummy grin beamed up at you as he squeezed your thigh playfully. “I go back and forth. Like, we’re here by chance, right? Maybe life is no deeper than that,” he explained, you nodding in understanding. “But also, I found music and BTS, and here I am with you, and all of that feels meaningful,” he added thoughtfully.
“Do you believe in fate?” You questioned curiously.
“Maybe,” he responded, his voice sliding up slightly in pitch.
“I find myself thinking that same thing. Like maybe we don’t have a purpose as living beings except to just, be here, and live. And maybe it’s the people we know and the experiences we have that give it all meaning,” you thought aloud, Yoongi humming as he peered up at you.
“Yeah, I like that,” he settled with a small close-mouthed smile that pushed his fluffy cheeks up adorably. Moving your hand from his hair, you poked his cheek, Yoongi giving you a feigned grimace in reply.
“Ok, so question for you,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes widening in anticipation. “If your life wasn’t so extraordinary, what would you do?”
“Like, without the fame?” He asked.
“Yeah, let’s say for a day, no one knew who Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D was, what would you do?” You asked with a small smile, feeling giddy to hear his answer.  
“I would take you out on the most normal run of the mill date,” he answered easily.
“That’s what you’d do?!” You asked in disbelief, Yoongi smiling cutely. “What like to the movies?”
“To the movies and to dinner and to get ice cream and we’d walk around Seoul without a care in the world about who could see us,” he grinned.
“We’ve done all those things though,” you pointed out.
“I mean, yeah, we have our spots that feel safe, and we venture out on occasion, but we could go anywhere without the stress of being seen,” he explained. “No worries, just us.”
Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed his hair off his forehead gently. “I didn’t realize you had so much stress when we go out,” you noted, a softness evident in your tone.
“I’m just- hyperaware,” he clarified.
“Would you hold my hand in the street, Honey Boy?” You asked with a wide grin, Yoongi chuckling at you.
“I wouldn’t let go of your hand,” he told you, his thumb running along the side of your hand as he spoke the words. “You know what else I would do?” He asked happily.
“What?” You whispered through your beaming grin.
“I’d kiss you in front of everyone,” he returned your smile. “And I’d post a cheesy photo of us on my pubic instagram to brag about how beautiful my girlfriend is.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, Yoongi giggling as his chin rested on top of your knee.
“It would be nice,” he hummed thoughtfully, as if he was losing himself in a day dream where he could live so carelessly.
Moving your hand to the side of his face, you pulled his attention back to you as you cocked your head at him and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” you stared to sing playfully, Yoongi dropping his forehead to your knee as he laughed at you.
Sitting back in his chair, he looked back up to you with his gummy grin, his eyes bright and full of adoration. “I love that song,” he noted, you giggling.
“Me too,” you replied in a whisper.
A pause in the conversation took place as Yoongi’s eyes scanned over your features, yours following the movement of his gaze. When his eyes met yours, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk and stood in front of you, his hands finding your waist as his face hovered close to yours.
Placing a kiss to the side of your mouth, you breathed out slowly, the intimacy between you both blossoming more stunningly than it ever had before.
“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as your hands found his neck, your fingers greedily but gently exploring the soft skin of his neck and jaw, grazing over his throat.
“I love you too,” you told him. “Forever.”
Pressing your lips to his, he brought his body as close to yours as he could, wanting you as close as possible. As he deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in synchronization with his own, his hands found the bottom of your shirt.
Tugging up, you removed your hands from him to allow him to pull the clothing from your frame. Dropping the shirt onto the desk next to your bodies, his eyes glanced down at your chest to see the flimsy lace bra. As one of his hands moved behind you to feel your back, sliding down to grasp the top of your ass, he dragged the finger of his opposite hand along the edge of your bra cup.
“What does forever mean?” He suddenly asked in a low timbre, just before pressing a lingering peck to your mouth. “You never know what the future holds,” he said realistically, though his tone was still seductive and light.
“I think the intent behind the word is what matters,” you told him, trailing kisses along his neck, Yoongi tilting his head to the side to allow you more access. “What a person feels when they speak the word.”
“So what do you feel? What do you mean when you say forever?” He questioned, your head raising to look him in the eyes.
Scooting off the desk, you stood in front of Yoongi, your gaze locked on his. “When I say forever,” you started, your hands finding the sides of his face as his held your waist. “I mean it literally. For always, evermore, in this lifetime and the next. Maybe even past lifetimes. The future is unpredictable, but when I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean,” you assured him as the man stared at you with a surety you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before.
Leaning in to kiss him again, you began pushing him backward, you both stumbling as he bumped into the chair. Your lips curved upward into the kiss, you both chuckling as you continued your clumsy ministrations.
Finding your way to the couch, you dropped onto it, sliding across it so you could recline, Yoongi standing above you watching you intently. As you stared up at him with a smirk, he shed himself of his shirt. Crawling atop you, your hands grabbed onto his hips, your fingers digging underneath the waistband.
He kissed you passionately, pouring his feelings and emotions into the action, causing you to moan, the sound melting against the man’s mouth, making him smirk. Sitting up on his knees, he undid the zipper on his own jeans before reaching for your own. His eyes left your legs for just a moment as he reached for the book shoved against the back of the sofa.
“This any good?” He asked, you quirking your eyebrow.
“It is, want me to read it to you?” You asked, Yoongi scoffing as he tossed it onto the table, you giggled as he went back to pulling your clothes from your body.
As he removed his clothing, you reached for your bag on the floor next to you, pulling a condom out, Yoongi smirking at you.
Once your clothing was removed, giggles flooding the room as you both struggled to wiggle out of your jeans and your bra flung somewhere across the studio, it was a matter of seconds until his skin was against yours, your body caged by his arms. 
He kissed you passionately, a hand on your waist as his other arm supported his weight over you. Slipping inside you, you groaned out at the sensation, Yoongi breathing lowly at the feeling of you. 
As you clasped a leg around his, your hand grasping at his ass, he placed delicate kisses across you face, giving special attention to your cheeks as he began dragging his hips. 
“I love you,” he whispered before pushing his mouth to yours, swallowing your breaths and whimpers. He moved slowly, savoring every moment of being together, wanting this night to last, forever. 
Your hands clutched his back, clinging to him as he moved in and out of you with a passionate force that had you moaning out near his ear. And he reveled in your sounds, knowing he was the cause, knowing you were his. Forever.
Leaving a kiss to his earlobe, you confessed your love for him once more. And then again. And again.
“Forever,” you repeated, the word coated in intention and meaning. You’d be loving him forever.  
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redpandaramblings · 3 years
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The Art of Blind Dates. Deku x GN! Reader
This piece was written for @rat-zuki 's the deku agenda escapes no one collab. Happy Birthday to our favorite broccoli.
Content warning- This fic rated PG-13. Aged up characters, Allusions to sexual activity, swearing, gender neutral reader.
“You know, we really have to stop meeting like this.”
You jumped, the spray can you had been using left an unsightly streak of bright red across your masterpiece. You scowled behind your mask as you turned to face the man who had spoken.
“We do. You keep making me mess up my hard work!”
You smirked, pleased with yourself as you saw Deku, the number one pro hero, recoil at the sight of your mask. It had taken a few weeks to convert the All Might mask into an ahegao face, but it was worth it if it horrified your number one pain in the ass. Izuku blinked a few times, sighing and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was clearly choosing to ignore your choice of disguise.
“I wouldn’t have to mess with your work if you chose to do things that were, you know, actually legal? You’re talented, Brushstroke. You could get paid to do murals or something instead of…” Deku gestured towards your latest creation. You were rather proud of it. It had taken a good amount of planning to manage to paint a fifty foot tall mural of pro hero Dynamight mooning the city with the bold caption ‘The Hero Commision can kiss my ass.’ It would be perfect if not for the red streak from where Deku had startled you. With a contemplative hum you shook your spray can and quickly turned the offending mark into a cartoonish lipstick print. Midoriya sighed heavily. “I’m standing right here, you know.”
“I know.” You grinned behind your mask. The voice distorter you used did nothing to hide your chipper tone. “I also know you like it. And you can’t tell me Dynamight wouldn’t love it. He literally said that on live interview!”
“Yes, but not with his pants down to his knees.”
You bent over, throwing your cans of spray paint and climbing gear into your duffle bag. It wouldn’t do for your nemesis to get his hands on some of the tools you used. Mei’s stamp was all over it.
“Which is such a shame. The man’s got cake for days.” You chuckled as Deku pulled a face.
He observed you, hands on his hips. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“Away, obviously.” You said as you threw the strap of your dufflebag across you.
“And I’m just going to let you go?”
“Oh no. You’re going to chase me like you always do. And I’m going to escape like I always do. And it’s going to drive you crazy because you can’t figure out how I keep doing it.” You began stretching, exaggerating each movement.
“A teleportation quirk isn’t that hard to figure out.” Izuku began stretching as well, rolling his shoulders and popping joints.
“Guess again.” You sing songed, bouncing on your toes.
“Wouldn’t have to guess if you just told me.”
“But that’s no fun. Unfortunately, I do have to be going. Catch you later, hot stuff!” And with a sprint, you raced to the side of the building and jumped off before activating your quirk.
Time slowed around you. It was like you were hovering in the air instead of falling. Freeze Frame was a quirk you had learned to perfect over the years. Between the quirk and the assorted gadgets in your bag and on your person, it was definitely enough to baffle the number one pro hero. Speaking of, you better work quickly before your quirk wore off and splatted you across the sidewalk.
Freeze Frame was named after what your quirk looked like from the outside. It was as if you teleported, or you had frozen time around you for everyone except yourself. In reality, you were a speedster. When your quirk was active, you were able to move at speeds so fast you were undetectable to others, and to you it seemed like everything was paused in time. You probably could have been a phenomenal hero or villain if you wanted. But currently, it was much more fun to thwart a certain green haired man.
With a press of a button, you deployed a grappling hook, snagging it on the building across the alley. You swung over, keeping a countdown in your head. Would you be lucky enough and have time to…? Yes. There! A balcony door was cracked open slightly. You gracefully landed on the balcony and used the door to slip into what appeared to be someone’s bedroom, thankfully unoccupied at the moment. Taking no chances though, you slip into the closet just as the effects of your quirk wear off. The other reason you had never turned to heroism or villainy- no matter how much you trained, you could only keep your quirk activated for ten seconds at a time. It wasn’t a lot. Plus you could only activate your quirk a couple dozen times a day without getting seriously ill. But it still was usually more than enough to be able to give any law enforcement the slip. Just like now.
Deku curses as he runs to the edge of the roof. You’re nowhere to be seen. “Brushstroke! Get back here, you damn brat!” He shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. One of these days he was going to figure out your quirk and how to counteract it. And when that day comes he was going to take you over his knee and… No. He shook his head, blushing to clear his thoughts. What to do with you. Well, he wasn’t sure yet. You weren’t a villain, really. More of a public nuisance. The murals you did showed a lot of talent and a good chunk of the population agreed with the social commentary behind them. But that didn’t change that you had painted ten foot tall asscheeks on a building without permission. And, technically, it was within his job description to apprehend you. “Brushstroke!” Deku called again as he made his way down to the ground. There was no sign of you anywhere. Invisibility quirk maybe? Though it would be unusual if you could turn all the stuff you had been wearing and carrying invisible as well.
Meanwhile, as Izuku was getting lost in thought, you were getting naked. You stripped out of your gear and paint covered smock, moving as quickly as you dared while still remaining quiet in your hidden location. Just because the bedroom had been empty doesn’t mean the rest of the place was, after all. You shoved everything into your dufflebag, pulling out a clean set of clothing from a zippered pocket. Getting changed was a simple affair, as was ruffling your hair, messily getting it to look like a different style. One of your favorite tricks happened when you pushed a hidden button on the edge of your duffle bag. The previously dull gray bag quickly morphed into a loud riot of tye dyed color. Chameleon bags, Hatsume called them. Still in a prototype stage, your friend and employer would probably make a mint on them if you put them on the market. After a final brush off and deciding you looked acceptably civilian, you peeked out the closet door. The bedroom was still empty. You crept out slowly. The balcony wasn’t a feasible exit anymore. Not without the gear you had had to store away. You were going to have to sneak out the front door. You activated your quirk, feeling a little queasy at having to use it again so quickly in succession. It was simple to race through the apartment and out into the hall within your short time limit. In fact, with your speed, you were easily able to exit the entire apartment complex. You still had a few seconds to spare when you shot out the door. You grinned at seeing the number one pro hero standing in the middle of the street. You knew you shouldn’t do what you were thinking. Instead you should use your last few spare seconds to put some distance between yourself and the large, green haired man. Instead, you quickly dug around in your bag and found your tube of lipstick. You applied a nice thick coat as you waltzed up to him. With a giggle, you planted a firm smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a clear and perfect lip print. With a grin, you hurried back to the apartment complex. It was easy to make it seem like you were just coming out of the door as time snapped back to its proper speed. You watched, hiding your smirk as you observed the clearly frustrated hero scanning the crowds for any sign of you. His eyes passed right over you, barely giving you a glance. You almost felt hurt that he thought your normal look was that unremarkable. But that was the point, after all. As Deku continued to call out for your pseudonym, you turned and walked away, blending into the crowd. You were almost out of earshot when you heard a loud cursing exclamation that would have been more in character for a certain blond hero. You bite your knuckle to muffle your laughter. Someone had informed Deku of the lipstick mark.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You sipped from a bottle of water as you watched Mei work her magic. It was strangely relaxing to watch her in her element. Though it seemed chaotic the first few times you had witnessed your friend work, there was a clear method to the madness if you just knew where to look. And you knew exactly where to look now that you had been working with her for the past three years. You were simply listed as one of her assistants. Most days that involved a random jumble of cleaning, paperwork, schedule management, and coffee making. The real reason Hatsume loved having you around however, was days like this.
“Okay! Set!” She chirped happily. “You good to go now?”
You nodded as you slid down, and walked into the testing area. “Remind me what I’m looking for again?”
“Well, obviously the usual. Make sure it’s not lethal, of course. And then I want to make sure the grid is deploying at the right time. Should be about a quarter second after detonation.”
“As long as everything looks good, want me to be full blown dummy this time?”
Hatsume tilted her head, and considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, should be fine. Have the explosive levels where they should be. If anything messes up it’s going to be the grid deploying too soon or too late and not restraining you right.”
You gave her a thumbs up as you got into position. She counted down, though that didn’t matter much to you, honestly. One of the best perks of your quirk was that it gave you insane reflexes. You waited until the moment you saw the detonation begin to happen and activated your quirk.
As usual, it felt like time slowed to a crawl around you. Hollywood directors would give a kidney to have access to the detailed slow motion you could experience every day for free. You walked around the device, looking it over. It was meant to be a capture aid for pro hero Cellophane, a small explosive that would shoot nets of tape in all directions. It had to be safe and effective. Better to have a few civilians stuck to the walls than to risk letting a villain escape, after all. You peered into the explosion that was slowly rippling outward. Everything looked good so far… Yep, there were the grids starting to deploy. Sure that everything was safe, you deactivated your quirk and instantly were thrown backward and stuck to a padded wall of the testing room.
“Looked great!” You called as Hatsume entered the room. “I think you’ve finally got it!”
While she cheered and began praising her baby for performing so well, you tried wiggling. No luck. You were stuck rather firmly. Apparently she had upped the strength of the adhesive. After a minute, Hatsume finally noticed your struggles.
“Oh good!” She chirped. “Looks like the new formula is holding up nicely. I mean, I still need to test it out against, like strength and fire quirks, but looking good so far.”
“Little help, please?” You ask, giving her a look.
“Maybe in a bit.” She said, turning her back and leaving you there, pinned. “Want to test how long it holds. Besides, I have some questions about your last escapade and how my babies held up.”
You let out a resigned sigh. Of course. Your friend had found out about your after hours hobby about a year and a half ago. Instead of discouraging you, it hadn’t surprised you that much when she blackmailed you. She wouldn’t tell the police or heroes…. If you used some of her experimental babies on your future excursions. You had been dubious. Hatsume’s babies could be a little dangerous in the prototype stage. But it ended up working great! Your pieces went from small tagging jobs to huge fifty foot murals. Though that had caught the attention of a few public figures, including a certain green haired pain in your ass.
“I didn’t use anything directly against Deku this time.” You sighed, going limp to test if the tape would hold your weight. It did. “Grappling hook works great. The painter drones are okay for filling in large areas, but aren’t able to do clean lines well. The gecko boots continue to be amazing, but the gloves need a lot of work. The control for when they release still isn’t great.”
Hatsume nodded, quickly making notes about everything you said. There was a bit of a quick back and forth where she asked questions and you answered. Though ten minutes passed and you were still stuck to the wall. She eventually sets her notes aside and turns to face you fully. “So,” she drawls. “You saw Deku again.”
“I always see Deku nowadays!” You groan. “I swear Mei, if I find out you’re tipping him off or something...”
“Aww, come on! He’s nice! Would you rather be dealing with Dynamight?”
You frowned, not meeting her gaze. “I mean, the variety might be nice?”
“You like that with the help of my babies you’re able to out fox the number one pro hero, admit it!”
“It might be a little satisfying,” you mutter.
“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot either! Heard you two get all flirty during chases. The tabloids loved the kiss mark, by the way. Enjoy finally kissing him?”
“Hatsume!” you groan. “Subject change, please! Anything else!”
“Anything?” she grins at you.
“Oh god, I’m going to regret this.”
“It’s not that bad, I promise! Just, would you be interested in a blind date?”
You blink. “A date?”
“Yeah! One of my friends from school has a lot of trouble meeting people organically. You know how the industry is. Ridiculous schedules, maintaining reputation, trying to make sure they like you for you and aren’t just a fan.”
“Yeah… I guess I can understand that.”
“Well, I just think you and him would be a great fit! He’s a huge nerd in a lot of the same ways you are, but a real good guy once you get past the awkward. Plus,” Hatsume dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper “I happen to know for a fact that he’s a fan of Brushstroke’s work.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “You know it’s extortion to try to get me to agree when you have me literally taped to a wall.”
“I know!” Hatsume chirped happily. “So are you going to agree? I made the adhesive pretty strong this time. Who knows how long it would take to wear off on it’s own?”
“Bitch!” You can’t help laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ll go. Just get me down from here!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You fidgeted with the ring you were wearing as you stared at the building in front of you. Maybe it wasn’t too late to bail? You don’t know exactly what you had been expecting when Hatsume had told you about the somewhat shy, nerdy man she had set you up with, but you hadn’t expected him to choose the fanciest restaurant in town as your date location. You were wearing your best and still felt underdressed. Well, if the date was a disaster, at least you knew what building you were going to spray paint next. The glistening white exterior would make for a great canvas. You chuckled quietly at your own thoughts.
Squaring your shoulders, you took a deep breath and marched in. You could do this. You were an infamous tagger. You faced off against the number one pro hero regularly. Your day job was working with Hatsume. You’ve got this. With an air of newfound confidence, you gave your name to the maitre d. It was a surprise when you were led through the restaurant to one of their private curtained rooms. This guy you’d been set up with was apparently going all out. Maybe you were going to like him after all, you thought as you were ushered in. Then you looked up.
Fuck.
Standing to greet you with a stupidly flustered look on his damn stupid handsome face was your nemisis. The number one thorn in your proverbial side. The giant broccoli himself.
That BITCH had set you up with Izuku Midoriya!
You froze. In the back of your mind you were aware that your mouth was hanging open. The green haired man shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Hi,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his head.
You continued to stare.
He cleared his throat, glancing to the side. “Sorry about the secrecy, but I think it’s understandable.”
You nodded weakly.
Izuku bit his lip. You realized with a start that he might be even more nervous than you are. As much as you planned to murder Hatsume later, this wasn’t Midoriya’s fault. You could get through this date at least. Eat some expensive food, drink the best wines, make some meaningless conversation, say your goodbyes, and then go home to plot the demise of your former best friend. Long, slow painful demise. Good thing about being an artist, you had lots of traps, so clean up should be easy. Looking at the worried expression on Izuku’s face, you realize with a start that you still haven’t actually said anything to him. You open your mouth to offer some sort of generic greeting. But what comes out is-
“I’m going to fucking murder Mei!”
Izuku blinks. Blinks again. Then he starts laughing loudly. He leans one hand on the table as he cackles. You stare before starting to chuckle yourself. Soon you’re both wheezing with laughter. You both slump into your seats, trying to collect yourselves. Midoriya speaks first.
“Yeah, I… I get that. I’d think that’s a common emotion when hanging around Hatsume.”
You can’t help your smile. “Only at least half of the time. But that’s what makes it fun. No one else like her.”
“That’s for sure.” Izuku leaned back in his seat, looking you over like he’s studying you. “So, I suppose we should actually introduce ourselves. I’m Izuku Midoriya. I do hero work.”
You laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N. I work for Mei and freelance art when I can.”
“Art, huh? What kind of stuff do you do?”
You’re briefly interrupted by the arrival of the first course. After the waiter leaves, Deku apologies. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to order for you, but this is one of those places where you pay them and they tell you what you’re going to eat.”
“It’s fine.” You say as you stare at the delicate wisp of some sort of thinly shaved vegetable with a dollop of strangely colored foam on top.
“You were saying what kind of art you do?” Deku cautiously was poking at the tiny fancy appetizer.
“A few different things really, but my passion is mural work. Latest job was in a maid cafe. They wanted something cute and floral, but they let me do what I wanted within that theme.”
The night continued on and was surprisingly easy. The food was delicious, the wine was better, and you were pleasantly surprised by the company. Maybe it was the wine softening you up, but as you looked across the table where Izuku was animatedly talking about how influential All Might’s example had been for him, you admitted to yourself that the green haired man was very handsome. And funny. And interesting. And you were trying very hard not to think about the way Midoriya’s large scarred hand wrapped around the delicate wine glass. It was a surprise when the final course was finished and Izuku was quietly taking care of the bill. He escorted you out of the building and you both stood awkwardly outside. Deku cleared his throat.
“If it’s not presuming too much, I’m not quite ready for tonight to end. Is it alright if I walk you home?”
“I’d like that. Like that a lot, actually.”
He smiled at you, and it was like the sun. You walked and talked animatedly. The conversation was so easy and fun, and a little flirty. Somewhere along the way your hands brushed together and holding hands became the most natural thing in the world. Time flew by as you walked together, your true destination long forgotten. You were only brought back to reality when out of the corner of your eye you saw a massive mural of pro hero asscheeks. When Izuku saw what you were looking at, he groaned.
“Could you please not check out my friend’s ass while we’re on a date?” He joked, gently elbowing your ribs. You laughed.
“I mean, you can’t blame me. It’s hard to miss.” You made a mental note to tell Mei that her paint formula was holding up beautifully.
“It’s a little embarrassing. Brushstroke is talented and all, but every mural is a time I couldn’t catch them.”
Maybe it was the wine still buzzing through your system. Maybe it was the thrill of it. Maybe you just wanted to see those beautiful green eyes widen. But you couldn’t help the next words out of your mouth.
“Well you might have an easier time if you ever actually figured my quirk out.”
“Yeah I…” He stopped. Stared. “You…” He stared harder, pulling away slightly as he looked your figure up and down. “You!!!”
“Surprise?” You laughed, and grinned at him. He was always so handsome when he was angry. You weren’t scared at all as he hauled you close.
“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”
“Pretty good idea, actually.”
“You’ve been leading me on goose chases for months!”
You grinned “Yes, will be our anniversary soon.”
Izuku groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waste. “You irredeemable brat!”
You would have replied, but in the next second he was fiercely smashing his mouth against yours. The kiss started harsh and desperate. The results of months of teasing and flirting. It gentled as the two of you stood there in the night, soft and sweet and full of affection the two of you had yet to put into words. The thought occurred to you that you’d have to thank Mei later. Your eyes opened as the two of you pulled away for breath. You started giggling almost immediately. Izuku pressed his forehead against yours.
“What’s so funny, darling?”
You smirked. “I never thought we’d have our first kiss while being mooned by Dynamight.”
Izuku groaned loudly before sweeping you up into his arms. You squawked and clung to him.
“That’s it.” He rumbled. “I’m going to spank you when I get you home, you fucking brat.”
“Promise?” you giggled.
You didn’t mind in the least when he shut you up with another kiss.
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The Glitch
I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.
Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).
Content working for reference to infant death.
Please enjoy!
The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  
Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.
A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.
Please not this again…
She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.
Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.
Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.
Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.
The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.
Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.
Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.
Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  
“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”
But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  
“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”
The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.
Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-
Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.
What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-
Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.
“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”
A new notification pinged.
[Mom]
Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  
“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.
Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  
Another ping.  She looked without moving.
[I’m sorry]
“…  What?”
For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.
Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.
A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.
She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.
Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.
She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.
There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.
“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.
She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.
Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  
And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  
But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.
At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.
Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.
“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.
“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.
Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”
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weelittleweasley · 3 years
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masquerade (d.m.)
prompt as requested by anon: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...
pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood slytherin reader
warnings: language
word count: 8.7k
author’s note: let’s say this takes place around 7th year (no voldy) right after the reader’s 18th birthday. also--i took the liberty of naming the reader’s parents just for sake of making things less confusing. 
you guys...would you want a second part to this? i may have an idea for a sequel? depends on how you all like it, but this...kinda went hard ngl
here is a playlist that i found on spotify that works well with the fic! credits to owner! 
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Rivalry; nothing like it. It gave you a reason to work harder, faster, and stronger than your rival. You were taught at a very young age that you should never surrender to someone who tries to make you feel inferior. And you took that to heart throughout your time at Hogwarts. You fought wisely with your charisma and charm, earning you the highest marks at school. You were a prefect, one of the top five students in your graduating class, and you were already making plans for your future. 
But that didn’t mean that there weren’t any challenges in your way. Many obstacles stood in your path of achieving greatness. One of those obstacles named Draco Malfoy. The two of you came from pureblood Slytherin families who had been fighting for power that dated back hundreds of years. That only meant that when you both entered Hogwarts in the same year, you had a rival to beat. But Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew how to keep up with you, sometimes surpassing you. Draco was also a prefect alongside you, one place higher than you in your class ranking, and not to mention, Professor Snape’s favorite student.
It drove you ballistic that no matter what you did, you couldn’t outsmart Malfoy. He was always one step ahead of you. He anticipated your every move as if he had studied you for years. But you had something on your side that Draco didn’t expect; divine feminine energy.
You would never fall for Malfoy, not in a million years. But that was exactly the point. Use what you have that Draco wants to your advantage. Your mother always told you that women had the energy of a thousand suns in their eyes and could burn anyone they wanted with just a stare. So that’s exactly what you did throughout Hogwarts. Burn Malfoy.
With just a look in the halls, you would set the boy on fire. With rage, with envy, with frustration, and with passion. You wanted no more but to see the boy fail. But failure wasn’t in Draco’s vocabulary. Needless to say, your time at Hogwarts became full of push and pull between the both of you. A rivalry of the ages.
It was exhausting, being tasked with rivalry at school, but you were thankful when winter break rolled around. You sat in your family’s manor house, the roaring fireplace in front of you as you read an alluring book. The crackling fire warmed up your chilly toes as a green velvet blanket rested over your shoulders. During break, you didn’t have to worry about Malfoy or his every move. You could enjoy yourself. 
As you read, you can hear the footsteps of someone descending the stairs. “(Y/N), dear,” your mother’s voice calls out. 
“In the drawing room, Mother!” you call back.
Soon enough, there your mother was, looking regal as ever as you smiled. Your mother was truly a force to be reckoned with. She stood in front of you, in a beautiful black gown, trimmed with gold and silver, your family crest embroidered above her left breast. Her hair was styled away from her face to reveal her youthful looking face. She was stunning to say the least. “I have news, darling,” she smiles, approaching you before taking a spot on the loveseat that you rested on.
You close your book and smile as you mother sits behind you, combing through your hair, something you always found relaxing. “I hope it’s good news, I could use some,” you tease her, earning a small giggle.
As she combs through your hair with her fingers, she speaks, “As you know, the annual masquerade ball occurs around this time of year.” You remembered watching your parents get ready for the ball as a child. You would sit next to your mother’s vanity and watch her delicately make up her face as her ladies’ maid did her hair. Your mother always wore a beautiful gown from the finest silk, adorned with jewels or lace or whatever she fancied. You remember your father told your mother she could get whatever she liked; your father wanted nothing but your mother to be satisfied. “The ball is open to any pureblood Slytherin who has reached the age of eighteen. And since you’ve have your eighteenth birthday not too long ago, you are eligible to attend,” you can hear the excitement in your mother’s voice. It had always been her dream to see you attend the ball. And yours to attend it.
You smile widely, “I’m delighted. We’ll need to contact the seamstress now if I want a dress in time.”
Chuckling, your mother places her hands on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, dear. But before we talk about what you are wearing, we must discuss the details,” she informs as you sigh. You just wanted to get to the fun part. “The masquerade ball is not just a party, but a tradition. The ball was made for young pureblood Slytherins to meet each other blindly and find a prospective partner for marriage,” you mother reveals as your heart stops.
A partner for marriage? You had just turned eighteen and now you had to think about a partner? You hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet.
But before you can protest the thought of courtship, your mother adds, “It’s how your father and I met in fact. We had danced the whole night and at the end of the ball, he took off my mask and we realized that we knew each other already. He was my partner in my potion’s class at Hogwarts.” She smiles at the memory. “Now, I’m not saying you need to find a fiancé, but it would be nice to be open to it. It’s tradition.”
The thought of finding a fiancé at the ball made your mind reel and your heart race. Sure, the tradition was old, but there was something romantic about it. Especially since that’s how your parents found each other. You nod your head, “Of course, Mother.”
Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead you hear another voice. “There are some fine suitors attending the ball this year,” your father speaks. He walked into the room a teasing smile on his face as you roll your eyes. “Let’s not overwhelm our daughter with the prospect that she might find her future partner, shall we, Porpentina?” your father tells your mother.
She simply sighs, “Let’s not rule it out though, Samuel. Anything can happen.”
Your father walks over to the two of you, a handsome smile on his face as he shakes his head. Your father was the smartest man you’ve ever met. He always led with logic and had a rational brain. But when it came to you, your father was putty. He loved spoiling his only child, his daughter. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’ve decided to come to ball, my dear,” your father beams as your mother squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll let Lucius and Narcissa know,” he looks to your mother with a nod.
“Wait, Lucius and Narcissa?” you freeze. Malfoy’s. “Are they coming to the ball as well? Will Draco be in attendance?” you interrogate.
Your father chuckles, “Well, I would hope so since they host the ball every year, dearest.” You scoff and let your mouth fall open. Since when was your family alright with the Malfoy's? Last time you were aware, your families despised one another. “I know, it’s strange, but over the last few years, our families have been able to be more level headed with each other. Lucius is still a fucking prick, but he’s been more tame,” your father huffs, making you laugh a bit. “But yes, Draco will be at the ball.”
You immediately rise from your seat on the hardwood floor. “Then I’m not going,” you state as your mother stares at you confused. “You know how much I hate that pretentious, loathsome boy since I stepped foot in Hogwarts. He’s rude and spiteful and inconsiderate and vile. I refuse to voluntarily be in the same room as him whilst I am supposed to be enjoying winter break. I simply refuse.”
Springing to her feet, your mother tries to reason with you. “Think about it, darling. It’s a masquerade ball. You won’t even recognize Draco. He’ll be in costume as well as everyone else. You won’t even know who is who. It’ll be a night to remember, I promise you,” your mother speaks, rubbing your arms. “Besides, I already called the seamstress and she has a beautiful design that she has custom made for you,” she wiggles her brows.
The thought of attending the ball still did excite you. Live orchestral music, beautiful gowns, champagne in golden flutes. It all sounded so regal. How could you let Draco Malfoy stand in the way of your fun? Besides, the chances of you stumbling upon Draco were slim. Sighing, you surrender, “Alright, fine. But if I so much as smell Draco Malfoy, you won’t hear the end of it.”
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Meanwhile, Draco stood beside his mother as servants and maids and butlers ran through the Malfoy Manor, carrying fine china, silverware, champagne flutes, and the finest decorations from around the world to decorate the manor in time for the ball. To the common person, this would all be so fantastic to watch. People decorating the manor in golds and greens, preparing for the quickly approaching festivities. But to Draco, this was normal. All the glamor and the splendor was just another day. 
Narcissa holds her son’s arm, linked with hers as she sighs, “Your first masquerade ball. You’ve grown up so quickly, my darling.” Narcissa smiles at her son inspecting his grown face. Where did her child go? All she saw was a fine man. 
Draco smiles kindly at his gentle mother. “I’m not being shipped away, Mother. It’s just a ball,” he laughs, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t expect to find a potential wife at the ball like Father believes...” he trails off.
The thought of marriage made Draco’s stomach churn. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Lucius Malfoy expected Draco to find a wife and a wife soon. Even though the boy hadn’t graduated, Lucius wanted to know that the Malfoy name would continue on for generations to come. He needed to ensure that his boyish son found another pureblood and produced an heir to the Malfoy name. 
Narcissa looks sadly at her son. She wanted nothing but the best for him, but also wanted the same as her husband. “Draco, dear, you know how important this ball is to your father and I. There are some perfectly sweet, beautiful girls in attendance to the ball tomorrow. What about Pansy Parkinson? Pureblood, Slytherin, comes from wealth,” Narcissa starts.
“What about her obnoxious personality or obsessive nature? Parkinson is a hard no,” Draco dismisses the notion. “Who else?”
Narcissa thinks, “The Greengrasses! Daphne will be in attendance since she just turned eighteen. Her younger sister still has a few more years before she can attend.”
Draco shakes his head, “Daphne is a good friend. It would be awkward.” Narcissa sighs and laughs lightly. “Anyone else or am I stuck with Pansy?”
Mrs. Malfoy stays quiet for a while before bringing up the next name, knowing how touchy it is for her son. “Well, I received news yesterday of another pureblood Slytherin who just turned eighteen recently who will be in attendance...” she trails off as Draco looks at his mother, intrigued and curious. “Miss (Y/L/N) will be coming...”
Draco’s face then contorts with disgust. “You invited my biggest rival to the ball?” he exclaims. “Mother, you know how I feel about her! Merlin, at this point let’s invite Potter and his friends to really spice things up shall we?” he scoffs sarcastically.
Narcissa starts, “Draco, please. I know how you feel about (Y/N), but she is a pureblood Slytherin. Her family has money and power and a title. Maybe if something happened between you tw-”
“Nothing will happen between (Y/N) and I, Mother. So don’t get your hopes up,” Draco cuts his mother off who sadly sighs. Draco monitors her sad expression before he feels guilty for his outburst. “I just cannot see myself getting past my feelings for her as they are now,” he reasons with his mother, squeezing her hand as she sadly smiles. “But I did hear that you invited some Beauxbatons to the ball,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Narcissa rolls her eyes.
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Standing in your room in front of the mirror, your ladies’ maid tightened your corset as you sucked in a breath. “Too tight?” she asks, scared that she hurt her master’s child.
“No, Lottie, just fine,” you smile at her as she ties the strings to the corset before taking your gown off of its hanger. “Lottie, can I ask you a question?” you ask as she helps you step into the gown. 
Lottie smiles, “Of course, my lady. What would you like to know?”
As Lottie shimmies the dress up your body, you speak, “When you met your husband, when did you know he was the right one for you? Was there a moment? Or something he said? Or was it love at first sight?”
You hold the dress up as Lottie makes her way to the back to zip it up. “It’s more of a feeling you get in your stomach, my lady. I knew my husband was the one because I felt like my stomach was doing flips and my head was reeling. There’s no feeling quite like it,” she tells you as you smile. Love was so complicated to you. You didn’t understand how it was supposed to work. You loved knowing that there were answers to almost every problem, but when it came to love, you were clueless of its answer. “Take a look, my lady.”
Looking into the mirror, you softly smile. The strapless gown was of emerald silk, hugging your chest beautiful as it came in at the waist as it cascaded down your long legs. It wasn’t puffy or poofy or full of tule. It was sleek and sexy and mature. Your hair was straightened, but pieces fell loosely in your face, framing it. Gold eyeshadow was swept across your eyelids and your lips wore a peachy pink gloss. It was perfect. “I love it,” you smile.
“You look simply stunning,” Lottie added. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife, my lady.”
You smile at Lottie, “Thank you, Lottie. Could you call my mother in please?” She curtsies before leaving you in your room. Nervously, you pace the floor, anxious for tonight’s events. Were you really expected to find a suitor? Who was  coming to the ball? Maybe someone from a different country? A bright, handsome wizard might sweep you off your feet and take you away. The thought made your heart race. 
Interrupting your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door before your mother enters. “Darling,” she sighs as you laugh. “There are no words to describe the way you look.”
You beam, “Thank you, Mother. I feel good, but I’m nervous.” She walks closer to you, concern on her face. “What if there is no one there for me? Even worse, what if there is someone there for me and I miss them?”
She shakes her head, “You cannot think of those things. (Y/N), I raised to be confident, powerful, and smart. And that’s exactly what you are plus more. Anyone with a brain and eyes will see how brilliant you are. No need to fret.” You exhale as she smiles at you. “I came in here to give you one last thing before we go,” she says as she reveals a gorgeous gold mask, adorned with pearls, diamonds, and emeralds. “It was mine when I went to my first masquerade ball. The same mask I wore when I met your father when I was eighteen. I thought that it might bring you some luck,” she tells you.
Tears start to well up in your eyes before you hug your mother tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper as she holds onto you tightly. “Thank you so much, Mom.”
Your mother gives you a squeeze. “I’m your mother. It’s what I do,” she says. “Now let’s put this on you and get ready to go. The ball waits for no one.”
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The ball was already bustling and it had just begun a mere twenty minutes ago. Women and ladies wore beautiful gowns varying of colors and textures, adorned with jewels and precious stones. Men wore suits and capes, perfectly tailored, all very clean cut. But everyone wore a mask to conceal their identity. Each mask beautiful and intricate in design. Some masks covered their whole faces and parts of their head, other just the eyes, and some wore masks that covered their whole head. Everyone was anonymous and that just made your excited anxiety increase.
As you stepped into the Malfoy Manor, you took in your surroundings. Their home was lovely. Beautifully decorated in golds and silvers, accents of black and green. Huge diamond chandeliers came down from the ceilings and twinkled as light passed through it. A large orchestra was settled in the ballroom, playing the finest music your ears have ever heard. You swooned. This all felt like a dream. A very real dream.
At the foyer, you were greeted by a butler who took your coat and another who offered you a flute of golden champagne as you graciously accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you. Your heart fluttered as you examined the manor through your mask. 
“May I escort the two loveliest ladies into the ballroom?” your father speaks as he offers his arms to you and your mother. You smile widely at him before you made your way to the ballroom where the rest of the party was.
The ballroom was enchanting. The walls were golden adorned with the most gorgeous architecture you have ever seen. Painted ceilings of pastel colors with tall candelabras that illuminated them. The orchestra played passionately as couples ranged from ages eighteen to fifty danced across the floor, women’s dresses swaying with each elegant movement. 
Your eyes searched the dance floor, trying to see if you recognized someone’s body language or movements. But everyone looked unfamiliar to you. Almost as if there was a fog over your eyes. 
That’s when your question was answered. “There is a spell cast over the ballroom,” your mother speaks. “To ensure that no one recognizes each other until all masks are removed. When the clock strikes midnight, all masks are removed and everyone sees each other for who they truly are. Exciting, isn’t it?” your mother whispers as you smile.
It was truly a one of a kind experience. You stood and watched those who danced around you, quietly sipping on champagne. Your eyes drifted off to the sidelines as you looked at the people who were your age. Everyone looked beautiful. One girl wore a dress of ruby red and a large diamond necklace that hung gently from her neck as she made quiet chatter with what you assumed was her parents. Another boy wore a velvet suit of navy blue with shiny dress shoes. He quietly stood by himself, watching each and every lady in the room, watching out for who caught his attention. 
Every one of the age of eighteen was on a mission it seemed. These people wanted to find their partner for the night and potentially for their life. The stakes were high. It made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. Your competitive nature was coming over you; you couldn’t help it. You were determined to find someone tonight if it was the last thing you did. 
Suddenly, the music faded away and the sound of a clinking glass filled the room. “Good evening, esteemed guests,” a feminine voice called out. “Welcome to the annual masquerade ball!” she exclaims, earning claps from every corner of the ballroom. “As you all know, the ball is designed for young witches and wizards to find a partner. We welcome each of you with excitement for the journey that lies ahead of you. That being said, the time as come for the eligible witches and wizards to come onto the dance floor and mingle. Wizards, you may approach any witch who is eligible and ask to have a place on her dance card. Remember, do not tell each other of your names! The dances will begin in ten minutes, so get to talking!” Another cling resounds in the ballroom as eligible bachelorettes and bachelors flood the dance floor.
You turn to your parents and give them nervous eyes as your mother and father give you a warm smile. “You’ll be brilliant,” your father speaks as your mother grabs your champagne glass and hands you your dance card. 
With a deep breath, you shake your head and walk out to the dance floor. Your heart was thudding hard against your chest. The moment you stepped onto the floor, someone approached you. “Good evening,” the boy bows as you curtsy to him. “Might I say you look gorgeous this evening,” he compliments you.
You smile, “Thank you very much. You look very nice as well.” He wore a simple black suit and a green pocket square. The detail made you think he was definitely in Slytherin house. Was he in your year? Did you know him personally? Was it Malfoy? No, Malfoy wouldn’t be this kind to you. But then again, he didn’t know it was you. 
The boy speaks, “Could I have the pleasure of having a space on your dance card?” 
He seemed friendly and kind, there was no reason to say no. Maybe as you danced he would become more interesting. “I would be delighted,” you respond as you hand him your card. He strikes the card with two x’s before returning it to you.
“Thank you, my lady,” he bows before walking away quickly to the very next girl he laid eyes on. You were startled at how quickly you moved, but quickly realized he had prepared some sort of script to dance with as many women as possible before his time was up. Clever.
You continue to make your way around the ballroom, chatting to a few more suitors here and there. Some men you found more charming and clever than other, while others you found yourself bored of, politely dismissing their request for a place on your dance card. 
Glancing at the dance card tied around your wrist, you think to yourself about the gentlemen who asked for a space and you granted them the honor of a dance. The first space to the boy who wanted to ask every lady to a dance, the next to a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman with the deep voice, the next to a funny gentleman with a thick Scottish accent, and the last space empty. There was only two minutes left of the mingling before you were to dance with your suitors. 
Too distracted by your dance card, you bump into someone else’s body, making you stumble a bit. “Oh my days, I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the body in front of you.
You look up and meet a pair of ice blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul. Your heart stops in its chest as you suck in a breath. In that moment, it felt like the whole ballroom had stopped moving and it was just you two in time. The two of you said nothing and just looked at each other, deep into the other’s eyes. It was if the man in front of you’s eyes held all the secrets to the world. 
Clearing his throat, he speaks in a low tone, “No, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You politely smile at him. “But in a way, I’m thankful that I wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have stumbled upon you,” he casually flirts making you blush.
The gentleman bows before you as you curtsy, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was like there was some sort of magnet between the two of you. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? You remember Lottie saying it should feel like there were butterflies flying around and your head should be fuzzy, but none of those sensations were happening. You just felt hot in your face and your palms were sweating, thank goodness for your long gloves. 
“I’m glad neither of us were paying attention,” you confess as he smirks. “You are much more interesting than what I was previously focused on.”
The mysterious suitor in front of you chuckles. “I can only hope that you have a spot for me saved on your dance card,” he speaks as you blush.
Teasingly you look at your dance card and fake gasp, “Well, would you look at that? One last spot saved for a special someone...” The gentleman chuckles again as he ticks off the last spot on your dance card.
He slips the card back around your wrist as you suck in a breath as he fingers touch you. “I look forward to our dance,” he bows as you reciprocate the gesture. “Until then, my lady.”
His eyes don’t leave yours until the very last moment as he walks away. You could swoon. He was charming, smooth, witty, and even though much of his face was concealed by his mask, you knew he was handsome. He just had to be. Your face felt hot and your mouth was dry. You knew that you would anxiously await him as your last dance.
With another few clinks against the glass, you are informed that it is time to start the dancing. But before people gather with their first partners, people run back over to where their parents were quietly observing. You excitedly scurry to your mother and father and small smile on your lips dancing as you approach them. Your mother smiles, “Anyone interesting?”
You don’t say a word and take a sip of the champagne that your father offered you. “I know that smile,” he beams. “Which one, darling?” You don’t speak. “Oh, tell us, dearest. We don’t know who any of them are, we are just as clueless as you.”
Sighing, you surrender. “The last gentleman. The one I bumped into.” Your mother scans the room, looking for him. “He has my interest the most out of all of them by far. If the dance goes well, I recon he’ll ask me to promenade outside,” you giggle as your mother joins you.
Your father speaks, “With a chaperone, I assume.” 
You roll your eyes as your mother slaps him on the arm. “She’s eighteen, Samuel. She can walk outside with a suitor. Besides, there is security all around the manor. She will be safe.” Your father sighs as your mother looks at you and hands you your lipgloss to reapply. “Go on. Have fun. Play the field, dearest. Remember what I taught you.”
“Yes, Mother,” you beam before heading back to the dance floor.
There, the first boy is waiting for you, his arm extended. You walk arm in arm to the dance floor as the orchestra begins to play a ballroom waltz. His arm is around your waist gently, his one hand holding onto yours as you begin to dance. “Is this your first masquerade ball?” he asks you.
You nod, “Yessir.”
He smiles, “So you’ve just turned eighteen I presume.” You nod again. “This is my fourth ball. I’m hoping to find my one and only here tonight. Do you think you have met yours?” he asks.
You are taken aback by his directness. “Um,” you stutter, “I’m not quite sure. I mean we’ve just met each other.”
He retorts, “Yes, but sometimes you just know, don’t you. You know what I mean?” His eyes are fixated on yours in a fashion that is full of anxiety and nerves as he anticipates your answer. His eyes have a tired look in them, but behind their exhaustion, there is hope.
You gulp, “Nope.” He furrows his brows. “But maybe another lady here understands what you are saying,” you remain hopeful for him as he sighs.
“I am hopeful,” he speaks. “That’s all we can be.”
Before you know it he spins you away and you land in the arms of your second suitor. The tall, dark, and handsome one. You smile as he smirks down at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he speaks in a deep tone that makes you feel like a school girl. “You are ravishing.” You kindly thank him. “So, are you here like everyone else? To find a partner?”
You speak, “I guess so. My parents would like me to be open to the idea of finding a suitor, but I’m still young. I would like to enjoy my time as a single, free woman of my age and status.”
He nods his head. “I see, I see. My parents want me to find a wife here tonight. Me on the other hand? I really don’t want anything serious. I’m just trying to find someone to shag to be quite honest with you. I’m too young to be tied down quite yet,” he reveals as your eyes widen. His eyes on the other hand remain fixated on yours, but aren’t afraid to wander to look around at the other women on the dance floor. You watch his eyes as they occasionally find another woman’s and he drops one of them into a wink. He was a flirt, couldn’t be tied down type. Bedroom eyes that wandered through several bedrooms type eyes. You’ve dealt with those eyes before and were not looking to deal with them again.
You agreed with him on the part of being free and not finding anything too serious, but just a person to have sex with? That wasn’t what you were looking for either. “I see,” you tell him as he winks through his mask. “I’m not quite sure I want something that casual. I am looking for something more consistent, a little more serious than just a shag. More emotional intimacy as well.”
“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “It’s a shame. I found you quite attractive,” he sighs.
But before you can protest, he spins you away from him and into the arms of your next caller, the funny Scot. “Hello there,” he greets you as you meet his gaze. He wears a gentle smile with kind eyes. His eyes are soft and full of childlike wonder. It makes your heart swell to see someone with such eyes. 
You softly smile at him, “Hello again.” 
The two of you dance back and forth, making light chatter here and there, him sliding in a joke when he can, earning a few giggles from you as he smiles. “How has your night been so far?” he asks you. “Has anyone caught your eye yet?”
You sigh, “The night has been tame so far, but no complaints.” He nods. “As for someone catching my eye, I cannot lie,” you smile as his interest peaks. “There was someone I met who I have my last dance with.”
The Scotsman chuckles, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?”
You join in his light laugher. “What about you? Have you met someone yet?” you ask him as you continue to waltz across the ballroom.
You can see a light rosy hue appear on his cheeks as he smiles. “I have indeed,” he looks across the ballroom as you follow his line of sight. And there she was, dancing with the man you were dancing with before. The same girl from earlier with the gorgeous ruby red gown. “She’s wonderful. And I’ve only spoken to her twice and no more than a total of six minutes.”
Giving his forearm a soft squeeze, you repeat his phrase, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?” He smiles. Maybe you didn’t need a suitor out of the Scot, maybe he was a good friend. 
“In that case, we both don’t mind what I’m about to do,” he speaks.
And then he spun you around and off to your last dance. 
And that’s when your eyes meet.
You inhale sharply when his hand finds the small of your back and he takes your hand in his. His eyes were still that beautiful ice blue that stared right into your soul and made you want to tell him all of your deepest darkest secrets. Eyes that could tempt you into making the most dangerous decision. Eyes that could lure you into a trap, but a trap that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in. 
He breaks the silence first. “We meet again,” he smirks as you blush lightly. The two of you begin dancing as the orchestra swells with music, almost as if they waited to play the most enchanting music right now in this moment. The violins hum a hauntingly beautiful melody as the violas and cellos support the sound. The moment was more than you could ever ask for. “I must tell you, I loathe dancing,” he whispers, making you giggle. “But somehow,” he starts. “You make it feel alright. Not good, but alright.”
You lightly laugh, “I’m glad I can make dancing tolerable for you.” The two of you continue to dance, letting your gown sweep across the floor as the music crescendos. “How has your night been so far? Enjoying yourself?” you ask, curious to know where his mind was at. It had only been minutes but you wanted to know everything about the gentleman in front of you.
The gentleman sighs, “It’s been fine. Not particularly a huge fan of balls or dances. But so far, so good.” He drops his left eye in a wink. “And yourself? How have your other dances been?” he asks you.
You bite your lip and take a moment to think. Now was not the time to play a mind game with him, though you so easily could. But you let your heart get ahead of your head and speak, “None of them as good as compared to this one.” The gentleman laughs, turning away from you in order for you to not catch his delighted blush on his white cheeks. “And your other dances? Did they make dancing more or less tolerable?” you joke with him.
Before the gentleman answers, he looks at the ground with a small smile. He looks up at you and gulps. “I actually didn’t ask anyone else to dance. Just you,” he reveals, making you breath hitch in your throat. That was quite the confession. “No other lady caught my eye like you did.” You don’t turn away when you blush at his flirtations. His eyes stare into yours as your mouth runs dry. “You have the most captivating eyes.”
It felt like you were in a storybook in this moment. The way the orchestra played, how he held you tightly against his body, the way his eyes stared into yours. Your eyes harnessing the power and energy of a thousand suns, but his ice blue eyes able to tame the heat they gave off. Why did this feel so right?
“I don’t know if I should say this,” you start, “but I’m going to anyway.”
He laughs, “I love a girl who can speak her mind. Go on.”
You breathe, “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like this isn’t our first time meeting. I feel like I’ve known you since the dawn of time.”
You can see him gulp and blink a few times. Did your words scare him? Were you too upfront with him? But before you can think of any more questions, he speaks, “It’s like you can read my mind.” You chuckle as he smiles. “I feel like I was supposed to meet you here, tonight, in this moment. Like this dance was...fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”
For the rest of your dance, no more words are spoken. The two of you just sway and dance to the orchestra that swells with beautiful music. You both gaze into each others eyes and watch the expressions that come across each others faces. With the occasional laugh here and there, absolutely nothing is said. Slowly, everyone around you begins to fade and it is just you two in the ballroom. Why was this happening? You prayed that this was a sign. A sign that this was right, he was right. But you didn’t get the feeling that Lottie was describing to you earlier in your room. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you were about to burst, but no stomach churning or head reeling. Instead, you felt like you were burning. Burning for this man. Burning for his touch. Burning for his attention. You could only hope he felt the same.
Before you know it, the orchestra finishes playing and everyone slowly stops dancing. The ballroom applauds the orchestra and you both join in, but don’t leave each others gazes. Soon enough, people begin to leave the dance floor to partake in other conversations or dance with other people or even promenade outside.
You smile at your gentleman and say, “Thank you for the dance. It was...magical to say the least.” You curtsy to him and turn away to go, but wished you didn’t have to.
Without even taking a step away, you feel him grab your hand. “Wait,” he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Would you...would you like to go for a promenade with me? Outside on the grounds?”
Your heart skips a beat as you sigh and smile, causing him to smile back. He had his answer right there. “I would be more than delighted,” you confess. “One moment please,” you tell him before walking over to where your mother and father watched you in anxious anticipation.
“So?” your mother beams as you nod your head as she smiles. 
You had her your dance card and give your father a smile. “I’m going for a promenade outside with the last gentleman I danced with,” you beam as your father nods his head approvingly. “I will see you later,” you speak before walking back to your gentleman as he extends his arm to you. 
Your father holds onto your mother’s arm, “Porpentina, how our daughter has grown.” They watch you exit the french doors out of the ballroom and into the gardens of the Malfoy Manor.
Still arm in arm, your suitor speaks, “Now, I know we can’t reveal much of our identities to each other, but I would like to know more about you.” You smile at him, holding onto his arm tightly. “What’s your family like?”
Smiling as you think of your mother and father, you start, “They’re wonderful people. My mother has been my sun, moon, and stars since I could remember. She’s passionate and smart and powerful. She’s everything I want to be.” The gentleman smiles as you tell him of your mother. “My father is incredibly kind though many wouldn’t believe that because of what he does for a living,” you laugh. “But he’s my protector. He’s sacrificed so much for me and for my mother. He’s the best man I know.”
He squeezes your arm. “They sound lovely.” You squeeze his arm back to let him know that his sentiment is appreciated. “Any siblings?” You shake your head. “In that case, we are similar. I’m also an only child.”
“What about your parents? What are they like?” you question him next.
This earns a gulp and deep breath from him. “Well,” he starts. “My mother is kind-hearted. Braver than anyone I have ever met. She’s suffered a lot and continues to suffer just to protect me,” he confesses to you. “I’m sorry I know that’s a lot, but-”
“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him off, placing a hand on his. “She sounds remarkable. Please, continue.”
He smiles. “She is remarkable. The best woman I know.” You smile warmly at him. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The gentleman takes a deep breath in before starting, “My father on the other hand. He’s a complex man. We’re not particularly close. But similar to your father, he protects me to the best of his ability. I’m not sure whether it’s out of love for his son or for some other selfish reason...probably the latter...” he trails off. You look at his face as it falls lightly. You feel for him. “But that’s beside the matter. I want to know more about you. What are your passions? What are your ambitions in life? What do you want to do with our lives that can be so fucking meaningless?” 
You laugh at his joke, crinkling your nose as you do so as he watches you contort your face in delight. He thought you looked beautiful when you laughed. “Well,” you catch your breath. “I want to do something that my family never did. I want to pursue a career when I can help people. Other people. And I have no benefit from it. I just want to help others in any way. When I was a child, I used to want to be a Healer. Then when I was a little older I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m thinking about being a Healer again or maybe do some form of charity work and philanthropy? I don’t know. I have dreams, but I don’t know which ones to pursue.”
You look at the man beside you and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It all sounds wonderful to me. You seems so selfless. I’m not used to it, I guess,” he confesses. “But whatever you chose, I know you’ll be brilliant.”
The two of you continue to chat and walk through the gardens, discussing future plans, hopes and dreams, and whatever comes to mind. Talking to this man felt like breathing. It was so easy. Conversation flowed like a channel of water. The conversation seemed never ending and you were perfectly fine with that. You had completely forgotten that you didn’t even know what this man’s name was, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You already knew so much about him from your conversations, you didn’t need to know something as silly as a name. 
You walk further and further through the garden until you come across a small area that was covered in rose bushes. It was a strange sight to see, beautiful roses in full bloom in the middle of winter, but with magic, anything was possible. As you walked closer, the masked gentleman plucked one from the bush and offered it to you as you graciously accepted. You continued to walk as he spoke, “There is a game called Rose, Bud, Thorn where you tell someone of the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and something you are looking forward to. I want to hear yours.”
You nod, “Alright then. My thorn is having to wear this bloody fucking corset top all night,” he laughs at your comment. “My bud is taking said bloody corset off when I get home,” the two of you chuckle. “And my rose...I guess was meeting you,” you bump into his arm playfully. He smiles. “Your turn.”
He sighs, “Let’s see...my thorn is having to dance tonight.” You scoff. “Although, you did make it better...” he teases as you roll your eyes teasingly. “My rose is having the most beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman at this ball with me right now,” he breathes as you blush. “And my bud...” he turns to you as you take a gulp. His soothing icy blue eyes staring into yours made you shiver. “My bud will be taking off this bloody mask of yours and seeing your beautiful face.”
His face is so close to yours, you feel his breath against your lips. Your mouth his dry as you feel him moving closer and closer to your lips. His eyes look at your glossed lips before moving back to your eyes and inching closer and closer to you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest. This was all happening so fast, and yet you were alright with it?
But before he can kiss you, a guard interrupts. “All ball attendees must report inside as per the hosts’ request. It is almost midnight and time for the unmasking!” 
The gentleman in front of you sighs as he turns to the guard and gives him a dirty look. “So much for a romantic moment,” he huffs as you chuckle. He takes your hand in his as you both walk back to the inside of the Manor, retracing your steps. You are only a few paces away from inside when he speaks, “Those guards always know how to ruin a bloody moment of mine.”
You furrow your brows and chuckle, “What do you mean?”
“They always seem to catch me at the worst time to tell me something important,” he speaks as you remain confused. He notices your confusion and laughs. “This will all make sense in a moment.” You contort your face in confusion, but before you can ask any further questions the same woman who spoke at the beginning of the ball spoke again. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a lovely night full of mystery and romance,” she giggles. “But now the mystery is over.” Behind her, the clock strikes midnight and bongs. “The spell over the ballroom has been lifted and you may all remove your masks! Please reveal yourselves to each other!”
Slowly, people reveal their true identities and you start recognizing people from Hogwarts. The girl with the ruby red dress that the Scot took a liking too was Pansy Parkinson. So many other familiar faces are revealed as you chuckled. This really was a magical moment. 
Beside you, your mysterious man sighs. “Finally.” Your heart beats quickly as you turn to him, anticipating who the man behind the mask was. You hoped he was handsome like you had imagined him to be. Was it someone you knew? Maybe an old classmate? Maybe someone from Hogwarts? Who could it be?
Reaching behind his head, he pulls on the silk strings that hold his mask up. Gently he peels it off and runs his fingers through his styled hair. And that’s when your heart stops and drops into your stomach.
The platinum blonde hair, the icy cold, unforgiving eyes, the pink lips that curled into that smirk. It was all too familiar. All too familiar that it made your chest feel tight with venom and anger. How could you be so naive? How did you not remember those eyes? Those eyes that dug into yours. Those lips that spat such cruel and vile words at you when you were just children. 
It was Draco Malfoy.
You inhale a sharp jagged breath as he laughs. “I know, it’s strange, but I’m assuming things are starting to click for you. Especially with how I know the guards and why they let us into the rose garden. But it’s me. I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy,” he speaks with a smile. You feel like you are about to vomit.
Of course, how could you not notice the guards letting you both through the gardens without interruption or protest? How did you not notice his wave of a finger when you needed to be let through somewhere? How did you let him distract you? How did you let yourself become so captivated by the man you hated most in the world?
“I think it’s only fair if I see you now,” he chuckles, waiting for you to take off your mask. 
But instead of taking off your mask, you wanted to run. Run far away. Run so far and forget this whole night happened. Forget every word exchanged with Draco full of such adoration. This was a sick joke.
Draco notices your horror and he speaks, “Are you alright, darling?”
His nickname for you made your stomach churn. You felt ill.
You couldn’t look at him any longer. You turned away and began to swiftly walk away from him. “Wait, where are you going?” he asks as you weave through the crowd. “Please, don’t go!”
Your stomach was churning and your head was reeling. How could this have happened. Then it all clicks. Lottie’s words. My stomach felt like it was doing flips and my head was reeling. There was no way. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. You were in love with Draco fucking Malfoy. This was a nightmare.
That’s when his hand grabs your arm and flips you to look at him. “Where are you going?” he laughs as he looks at you. “Are you that surprised?” he asks with a smile as you just stand there, trying to catch your breath. His brows furrow. “Is there something wrong? Do we know each other?” he asks. “Take off your mask so I can see you, darling.”
In pure anger and frustration, you hastily sigh and undo the masks strings quickly before ripping it off your face to reveal your identity. The smile on Draco’s face instantly drops as he recognizes exactly who you are.
And there you were, two enemies standing in front of each other, glaring at each other in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by other young couples who were falling in love. The two of you just burning holes into the other. The energy of a thousand suns trying to melt the ice that stared right back at it. Two sworn enemies now destined to fall in love. What a conundrum this was.
“Call me darling again and I’ll hex you, Malfoy,” you breath through pants of sheer anger.
Your stomach was still doing flips and your head continued to reel. Your face was flushed. How could Draco Malfoy and your masked gentleman be the same person? It was impossible. Your gentleman was kind and charming and witty and smart and thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was vile and rude and unkind and selfish and self absorbed and loathsome. There was no way you could be in love with a version of someone who you swore you would hate until you took your last breath.
Draco’s face slowly moves into a cautious one. “(Y/N),” he starts. “I swear I didn’t know it was you. I was just as clueless as you. You have to believe that I didn’t do this on purpose.”
You laugh, “I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth. I was stupid to believe that I could fall for a person as disgusting and despicable as you.”
And with that, you march away from Draco, ignoring his calls out for you as you approach your mother and father. Once they see you, their expressions change from excitement to concern. Before anyone of them can ask what was wrong, you demand, “We are going home. Right now. I want to go home. Please. Can we go home?”
You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes become hot with tears. Your mother grabs your hand as your father pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. The last thing you hear before you leave the ball was Draco’s voice calling out for you to come back.
Before you know it, you are back in the comfort of your own home, face stained with tears as you run up the stairs to your room. You ignore your mother and father’s call to tell them what happened. You slam your bedroom door shut and lock it before letting the sob rake through your body, shaking you from the inside out.
You were foolish to believe you could find someone at a stupid ball. Those fucking masks. Making you believe someone was something they weren’t. It was all a lie. Smoke and mirrors. And you fell for it. You fell for Draco and there was nothing that you could do to forget it. 
You fell for a facade and you would have to live with that forever. How you were supposed to face him at Hogwarts was beyond your control.
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