#i could probably have reread these before hand but last time someone asked for fic recs i spend over three hours on it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oukabarsburgblr · 6 days

Note

Hi! Love your work! I dont know if your requests are open but Id love to see more of your Haikyuu work! Loved the the recent one and i just cant stop rereading it.

I wonder what would happen if reader was hit on by one of the other volleyball players before/after the matches. I just wanna see the three boys get jealous and protective honestly hahahd ofc if you dont want to write this its okay too! ( Ps. I also love ur Daisuke one, i love him hes so cute 🥰🥺 cant wait to see more of ur work )

drabble...aftermath of Karasuno

taglist : @ayuxiru @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer

i stopped working on my haikyuu fics bc i started s4 and i could NOT see atsumus face HAHHAHH idky i HATE HIM ARGH/jk. We love Daisuke in this household. Can anyone tell Daichi is my favourite? HAHA

this will be the last one for the crows CAW CAW

harassed, dark in general

Find out more under the cut!

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

Another team harasses the manager!

[START SCENE]

"Hey! Karasuno's manager! Don't make such an ugly face."

A certain (h/c) frowned, being cornered by tall volleyball players from other schools. He had just went to retrieve the paper rosters from the organizers for their current tournaments at the Sendai Gymnasium where Preliminaries are being held when he was stopped by students from other schools.

"You look like you don't have a lot on your hands right now. Why don't you come with us? Free some tension...you probably need it." A hand grasped (m/n)'s shoulders to which the (h/c) swatted it away. "Don't touch me." He hissed as he tried to move past them but another shoved him back against the walls, them moving closer to the manager.

"Hey hey. We're all friends here, right?" Hissing in pain as the hand lodged in his shoulder pressed his nails further, crinkling his black jumpsuit. "Listen here, fucker. I don't know what household you grew up in, but go ride someone else's dick. Better yet, why don't you go suck each other off? Since you're so desperate for some action."

(m/n) spat, his foul mouth and his temper wasn't a good combination but it was the right mixture for this situation. He pushed the players' arm and was ready to leave until his hair was clenched painfully.

A yelp from (m/n) and the ringleader of the group pulled his face close. "Nice face but a repulsive tongue...damn and I thought we could do this nicely. We'll find a use for your mouth soon." "Let go, asshole-"

Fuck, who do they think they are? The only one grabbing my hair is usually-

"I suggest you let him go."

A heavy voice uttered from behind them, catching the attention of the group. Asahi clasped the hand that seized (m/n)'s head. "Before I break your wrist." He muttered with a death glare, the light in his eyes gone.

"Fuck! Is he the coach or something?!" One of them whispered, scanning his mature features. Someone grasped (m/n)'s hand, pulling him away from the group. "Learn how to take a hint when someone says they don't like you." Sugawara pushed the manager behind him.

"Or go die in some random dump, you trash."

He stated blandly, his voice losing any cheery tone he would always carry. How ironic. (m/n) could never be more glad that the third years were here, clenching the papers in his hand. He felt someone gently pull his bicep.

"Go." Daichi muttered. "The team's around the corner. Go see Kiyoko for..." He brushed (m/n)'s head, where his hair was tousled.

The only one who would usually, or rather the only one, grabbing (m/n)'s head, tugging his hair, digging their nails into his scalp was Daichi Sawamura.

The (h/c) didn't think twice to leave the scene, not leaving a glance to the yelling players who had harassed him, Daichi particularly approaching the one who had pulled (m/n)'s hair.

He didn't want to be here anymore, (m/n) lazily draped himself across the railings. Only one manager was allowed on the benches so he and Yachi had to sit up in the audience' seats but he asked for some alone time from Yachi, her concerned about him after hearing that he was disturbed by a team from another school earlier.

Hinata had jumped up and about when (m/n) returned to their team, demanding to know who had hurt his friend and Kiyoko checked his scalp, making sure nothing was broken and everything was fine. Tanaka was adamant on being a good senior and wanting to avenge his manager so he went to help the third years who were confronting the aggressors but immediately retreated, staying quiet when Ennoshita asked what they were up to.

The games started and the first match went well, battling up against a two meter player. Daichi didn't speak to him yet. (m/n) noticed a bruise forming on Asahi's jaw and Sugawara only smiled at him quietly.

Second game came around and (m/n) held back a flight of curses from his mouth when the team Karasuno had to play against were the same players who had cornered him earlier, their captain glaring holes into Daichi. He noticed a few of them were missing, specifically the bitchy ringleader.

"Hey, (m/n). Thought you'd be down there this time."

Oikawa approached his cousin, leaning onto the railings in a similar fashion to the (h/c). "I guess all third years in your team is staying huh." He poked (m/n). "Yeah." He mumbled. "Looks like yours too."

(e/c) glanced at the Seijoh team that were currently watching over Karasuno's briefing by their coach. He noticed a new player. Someone that has a tennis ball for a head.

"Well, we're gonna beat Shiratorizawa this year. I'm gonna show Ushiwaka who's boss." "You say that at every game." The setter slapped (m/n)'s back, the latter yelping and smacking his laughing cousin. "So gloomy and for what? Your team seems to be energetic-...well they're playing more aggressive than usual."

Asahi slammed the ball set by Kageyama, earning a point as the libero was unable to receive the spinning ball. The ace looked furious, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked Kageyama for a faster set. Sugawara was itching to get on the court, pacing around, warming his legs up so he could be ready when he had a chance to play. Daichi was silent, his usual words of affirmation to the team gone. Only Tanaka and Nishinoya cheering when they won a point.

"We're going to win. Against them at least." Daichi muttered, his eyes gazing up at (m/n) when Coach Ukai took a timeout and asked what was wrong and why their play styles had differ today.

(m/n) stared back but quickly looked away when he felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't tell what those insects were trying to tell him. Daichi had warmed his bed a lot for the past month, even his parents assumed he was his boyfriend by how often he had came over to his house.

Karasuno won a fast game. Two sets straight, 25 - 17 and 25 - 13. The last set where all the third years were deployed went by quick, Asahi shining as the MVP.

"Well, that's my cue. I wonder when we'd play against you, it'd be any different." "....It will." Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Thought you'd support me this time. Given how your team lost on our last match." "But they'll win."

(m/n) peered at Oikawa, from the corner of his eyes. "My team will win beating yours, Tooru." The setter only stared down at the manager with a smirk.

"What's with the change of heart?" "..."

He didn't reply, only getting up to greet the team as he stood in the hallways, letting Hinata crash into him. Sugawara pulled the middle blocker off of him. "Now now. Stop causing trouble or Takeda-sensei won't let us watch the other teams play." They were done for the day and as requested by Kageyama, they went to see Seijoh's match.

Sugawara held (m/n) behind however, letting the team go first as they stood in an isolated staircase. He ran his fingers through (h/c) hair, his eyes squinting at the manager as he smiled reassuringly. "I hope you're alright, (m/n). We beat them for you. Those idiots. People who have nothing else to do but lay their waste on innocents like you."

The (h/c) hummed uneasily, leaning his head on the setter's shoulders and his fingers clutching onto the latter's jersey. "I didn't mean to talk to them. They cornered me." "I know, I know." Sugawara cooed, his other hand caressing (m/n)'s back.

A similar but earlier incident had happened, whereas a student confessed to the (h/c), who declined but Hinata excitedly told the team and Sugawara had an outburst in private, accusing (m/n) of cheating behind their backs despite them having no declaration, only taming (m/n) into their current relationship.

"Did I ever scare you? You look at me like I'm going to snap your neck at any second." The setter teased, his hand trailing over (s/c) neck, his fingertips pressing onto (m/n)'s Adam's apple. "No. You wouldn't." That was a bluff.

He had learned that Sugawara had the most violent tantrums out of the three. Paranoid, spiralling about what (m/n) does when he wasn't around. The (h/c) had learned what to say, what to do overtime, to ease the third year.

Said third year smiled at him. "If anyone ever approaches you, like earlier, scream our names okay." He always made sure to include Daichi and Asahi. "Remember, you're our favourite."

He winked at the (h/c) who didn't give much of a reaction, only hugging the setter. Was there any difference between those assholes and the third years in Karasuno? Both of those groups forced him, into these uneasy situations, Karasuno taking a longer approach.

Crows tend to build their nests with meticulous resolve, choosing the right twigs and taking the softest materials for the lining. Karasuno did live up to their name, (m/n) completely accepting his predicament, laying in the den Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi had woven for him.

Sugawara pulled (m/n)'s face up, smiling at him before pressing his lips to the (h/c) who opened his mouth when the setter swiped his tongue on his lips. "Let me hear you, (m/n)." The setter muttered as he pressed his wet muscle against (m/n)'s caressing his palate and pressing their bodies closer.

"Mmnff ahh! N-Not here Suga- ahk!" (m/n) choked when he felt a hand cupping his crotch, his breath shaky and coming out in stutters as he pushed Sugawara's chest. His cheeks were hot and he clenched his fist on Suga's jersey.

"Hahaha is it because we're in public? You'd be much more in trouble with Asahi then." The setter pulled away, letting (m/n) breathe as he dragged him up the stairs and they stepped into the auditorium seating. "Go. You owe me a date for this." He kissed the (h/c)'s forehead before pushing him to the row where Asahi and Daichi were.

The setter walked past them, opting to sit beside the second years, distracting them when they asked where was the manager. Said manager stood nervously, Asahi and Daichi silent, both of them sat in the furthest behind row, whereas everyone was sitting close to the railings to watch the games.

Usually (m/n) had no problem conversing with them, the third years constantly talking first but here they are staying silent. "...Good game." He referred to the two sets they stole from those assholes.

The captain didn't even look at him, only staring into space with a frown on his face. Asahi spared him a glance before beckoning the (h/c) to sit next to him. But as he was about to sit, the brunette pulled his arm, making him land in Asahi's lap instead.

"Huh? What are you-" He was silenced by Daichi's glance, his heart racing as Asahi adjusted him, placing him directly on top his crotch. "Sorry, (m/n)." The ace buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders. "Let me borrow you for a bit."

Here? In public? Where anyone could see him being used like a fucking-

His hands shook as he tried to peel himself off Asahi, but the latter only tightened his hold, crushing his waist with his muscular arms. "I'm sorry." The brunette mumbled apologies and (m/n) could feel his erection pressing up against his pants. He prayed the others wouldn't turn around. Daichi didn't move a finger, (m/n) couldn't read his face as he hopelessly squirmed in Asahi's lap.

He's going to see. He's going to look at me and see me like this.

His heart was beating fast, the ace still breathing heavily behind him and grinding his bottom on him. Daichi still didn't give any reaction. (m/n) felt his heartstrings pulled as the captain didn't give a damn of what was happening to him. Unintentionally, he glorified- favoured? Treasured the ravenette the most, the one who always seemed so distant from him yet was so close and quick to clog his throat-

Tears welled up in his (e/c) eyes as he turned his face away when he saw Tsukishima glanced at him from the corner of his sight. He genuinely prayed that no one else would see him in this shameful state.

Asahi stopped bucking his hips when a high pitched heave escaped from the (h/c)'s throat, (m/n) holding in a sob as he carved his nails into the ace's arm. "Shh...it's fine. No one saw anything. They just think you're sitting on me." He whispered into the manager's ear who shook his head. Tsukishima saw him and he was one of the smart ones. The rest of Karasuno hadn't seen but what about the other teams? Strangers who might pass by their rows. He hated how his three seniors didn't give a damn about his pride.

Asahi didn't make himself obvious, he just wanted to loose some steam is all. In the end, he did use (m/n) like those harassers did albeit tamer than expected but the intentions were there nonetheless. (m/n) whimpered endlessly as he was placed to sit on the cushioned seat in the same one as the ace, still with Asahi seated close behind him. (s/c) hands trembled as he peered at the captain who cruelly ignored him the entire time.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Asahi cooed at him, apologising and kissing his ears while rubbing his waist. Ensuring the (h/c) that he didn't even got off or anything as he whispered sweet nothings with his apparent boner pressing against (m/n)'s back. The manager was much more prone to crying when they were in public.

His hands hugged Azumane's as he leaned back into the ace's body, his attempt to hide his figure as he pulled on the ace's black jacket. "Hic- you're so fucking- mean to me." (m/n) whined as Asahi peppered kisses all over his face, his stubble scratching against his skin.

"I won't do it again." The ace muttered, placing his chin on the manager's head. (m/n) peered up and noticed the forming bruise. His fingers went to delicately trace them. "I knocked his teeth out." Asahi mumbled.

"Would've done more if their manager hadn't come running." (m/n) flinched when he heard Daichi utter. The first he spoke around the (h/c) after the whole harassment he suffered.

Coarse rough fingers covered his eyesight, a fingertip pressing against his right eye lightly, brushing his lashes and the ace placed his face down where (m/n) had his hair violently tugged. "Tell me if you want him to lose more."

(m/n) didn't say anything, only nodding as he let the ace touch his body, caressing his chest and inhaling his scent. He didn't feel bad for the attackers at all. They dug their own grave for being assholes.

He caught Daichi staring at him, the captain still facing straight but his eyes gazed into the (h/c)'s face as he slowly returned his focus back onto Seijoh's match.

(m/n) managed to pull himself off of the ace when the games were over and Karasuno was preparing to leave. He made sure he avoided Tsukishima, not wanting to answer any of his probing questions. He had went ahead to wash the water bottles at a pipe when he heard footsteps behind him.

He looked behind him to see Daichi with the bottle carrier, the captain picking up the clean ones and placing it in its stations while (m/n) finished up the last one. A rare act of kindness from the captain to the (h/c). "Are there any others left?" (m/n) shook his head to Daichi's question.

The captain staring at him with dead eyes and (m/n) noticed the small blot of red on the edge of his knuckles. He didn't say anything, carefully pulling Daichi's hand and placing it under the tap, letting the water flow and washing the ravenette's hand.

Said ravenette stared down at him with his usual silence. At times like this, (m/n) could never tell what the captain was thinking. Was he observing on what he would do? No. Daichi was too confident in his...work. Of what he made of (m/n) (l/n).

Maybe he expected it. (s/c) fingers rubbed the knuckles, ridding the smell of blood and dirt as Daichi stood directly behind the manager. "Did they hurt you?" The manager shook his head again. "I'm fine. They didn't do much."

He could feel eyes boring into the back of his head, the captain glaring holes at the part where they pulled (m/n)'s hair. "It's good for you to know."

Know what? The manager wanted to ask but opted to stay quiet instead. He could feel Daichi leaning into his (h/c) hair, them letting the faucet run under their intertwined hands.

"No one else can hurt you." (m/n) carefully turned his head around and found black eyes staring down at him. "Not Suga and not even Asahi..." The captain muttered, his other hand gripping the manager's jaw, the latter letting out a small gasp.

"Only me. And it will stay that way as long as I'm here." He muttered, leaning so close to (m/n)'s face, the other baring a blank expression, knowing and not daring to show any sign of fear.

"Be aware and be good....I'll take care of you."

The (h/c) nodded, the grip on his jaw loosened and suddenly he was enclosed with a kiss. Daichi pressed against the manager and bit his lower lip, prompting moans as (m/n) shakily wrapped his arms around the captain's neck, his knees weak.

Both of them leaned against the sink and there was a faint sound of an ambulance siren that could barely be heard over the shaky gasps and lustful moans the manager spilled from his throat. It was wrong to love your abuser. (m/n) wouldn't call it love.

He would never care for someone like Daichi.

But he couldn't leave. There was no option for someone like him, he could only embrace and lay in the nest the third years made for him. A good first year to embrace their devilish intent.

[END SCENE]

I planned like a smut scene where daichi fucks him but im tired of writing smut tbh. Like i need inspo. But if u didnt notice daichis hand was bloodied bc he did sumth to the harassers which is why theres an ambulance in the last part.

Someone requested a sick scenario where reader gets sick and third years feel bad for him but tbh they wouldnt feel bad. Its just more of an excuse to fuck him over and ill give a very SIMPLE drabble for that bc ive delayed this way for too long

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

(m/n) falls sick and the third years takes good care of him!

[START SCENE]

"Mmhhaa mmngg ahnn!"

(m/n) cried as he clutched onto Asahi's gakuran, his back against the wall and his legs wrapped around the ace's waist. The brunette's cock deep in him as they hid in an isolated bathroom stall, the third year pulling him in before classes were starting.

It was the norm for him. And he thought his body could adjust but he wouldn't notice he was slowly falling apart with how frequent the third years was using him for a quick fuck.

"T-Too fast! Ahn! Mmmn ahn ah ah!" His legs were shaking as Sugawara held his hips as he pounded his ass, the setter biting onto the manager's bare shoulder. The setter had whisked (m/n) away during their lunch break, him pulling the first year into the empty clubroom and bent him over the table to fuck his ass. He laughed when he found out Asahi had gotten to him first.

Daichi rarely took him during school hours or even school grounds for that matter. It was always the other two filling his ass up or suffocating his throat.

(m/n) choked as his head was pushed deeper into Asahi's crotch, his body naked as he sucked and licked at the dick while Sugawara was behind him shotgunning his bottom while grinding onto his naked butt. Saliva and precum was dripping onto the gym closet floor.

Sugawara always hold the keys and he'd use it as an excuse to stay behind, forcing (m/n) to help just for him to push him onto his knees and forced his cock into his mouth.

The manager knew his body wasn't feeling well that day. Seven rounds of sex in 8 hours was a record for him and a threesome in the mix? He went home sick and woke up with a sore throat and a burning fever.

(m/n) didn't go to school and he was glad he got to recover in his own bed but his mother suddenly barged in saying that his friends and his boyfriend were there to see him. The third years had neutral expressions when they entered his room, Sugawara easily conversing with his mother as she left the room, leaving her son alone with the monsters.

"I can't believe you actually got sick. I thought you were faking it so you could avoid me today." Sugawara grinned, sitting on the edge of (m/n)'s bed and placing his hand on the manager's forehead, pulling away and pulling out a fever plaster to paste it on the manager.

"I told you he was sick. He could barely stand when we were walking home and you thought he was faking it? You're scary, Sugawara." Asahi muttered to which the setter snapped back at him and they both argued over who had pushed (m/n) too far on yesterday's events.

Daichi ignored the two as he walked over to the bed, (m/n) could barely open his eyes, his skin hot and his head aching. He felt a hand pulling down his blanket and someone pushing his shirt up. A cold wet palm laid flat on his belly. The (h/c) squirmed but embraced the cool, his chest heaved up and down with slow breaths.

"Get better. Soon." The captain ordered. His dark eyes staring blankly at the manager. Sugawara turned to (m/n) and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You heard the captain." "Make sure to stay away from Suga."

The setter continued to yell at the ace, moving off of the bed and Daichi took the opportunity to take his place, his eyes now locking with (e/c) as he brushed his hand against (m/n)'s cheek fondly. "...I'll take care of you. I said I would." The ravenette muttered, the hand he had washed earlier trailing from his stomach to his chest, his hand under (m/n)'s shirt.

Daichi would only take him in his bed, in his room at nights after practice. Now, he was sick and laying in said bed with the captain looming over him, his eyes scanning his weak features.

(m/n) couldn't do a thing, letting the third year care for his sick body. They would come over after practice bringing homecooked meals they would make at Daichi's house. Sugawara often cleaned his body, using a wet towel to cool his warm limbs or helping him into his shower where he would- this made the manager's mom became more fond of the third years, letting them into her son's room at any time she was especially too busy to check in on her precious child.

The manager knew they were some sick fucks but he didn't expect them to go that far truly. Sometimes they would grope him, offering a quickie while mocking him by bouncing the (h/c) on their lap but Daichi was quick to stop them, especially Sugawara who was a bit too happy that (m/n) was weak in his hands, too frail to push away.

Asahi didn't do much, only going through the (h/c)'s belongings, digging through photo albums and taking some of his more personal article of clothings. Stupid pervert. He didn't even bother hiding it too. Daichi would force them to leave when it was almost midnight, him staying over and sleeping on a spare futon.

He was so attentive to the (h/c)'s needs, making sure he took his medicine and eating the required nutrition he needed. He kept his promise and (m/n) was able to recover in three days, returning to school after being deemed well enough by the captain.

Oddly enough, Sugawara and Asahi didn't pounce on him the second they met. Only ruffling his hair or hugging him and saying they were glad to see him well before leaving him alone. (m/n) thought that they finally got their senses knocked into them.

Until night arrived and (m/n)'s mother made a fatal decision to allow Daichi to check her son for another time.

"D-Daichi! I c-can't- urmff! Mmngghaa- ackk!" One of his legs were being held up as he laid on his side, his mouth full with fingers and his hole throbbing around the thick dick shoved inside him. The ravenette slowly rolled his hips, feeling (m/n) tighten around him as the manager shot cum from his penis onto the bedsheets.

He loved when the (h/c) would come on his cock, fluttering walls around his base was pleasure as he quickly thrusted into the overstimulated first year, (m/n) drooling and choking on Daichi's coarse fingers.

"Three days. You have three days to compensate." Rounds of sex to reimburse the captain. Not for the care he provided. It was just more of a reason for Daichi to fill his hole and he had warned the other two not to approach him, wanting to have his ass all to himself for the next few days.

(m/n) let the captain use his hole, his body to fulfill his lust. He wasn't sick any longer and Daichi had promised to take care of him. He could only hope the ravenette doesn't have any plans to stay around him for the long-term. Excluding the fact that they were neighbours.

[END SCENE]

I just love daichi so much rahhh. Going to see the movie next week. Remember this is the last one for karasuno so dont request for this team any longer lovies💋 If karasuno was intense just imagine the power play with shiratorizawa MUAHAHAHHAHA

#bottom male reader #oukabarsburg #sub male reader #x male reader #x bottom male reader #male reader #male reader smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu #male yandere x male reader #yandere

496 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 11 months

Note

Any chance you could do a famous single mum reader x Harry fic

since he’s a certified MILF lover

CRUSH

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SUMMARY: Harry has been into you for way too long, but you haven't given him a chance. You run into each other at the Grammy's afterparty and you finally tell him why you're so adamant about keeping your distance.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry will forever remember tonight.

It’s his second time going home as a Grammy winner and nothing can ruin this experience for him, not even how his performance was ruined. He did it again and nothing else matters for now.

Or at least that’s how he should be feeling as he is celebrating with his friends and other winners and artists at the after party, but something keeps bugging him.

Just hours earlier he ran into you again and he hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind since then. It’s no surprise you were at the award show, even though you’re not a singer he could have expected to run into you at one of the most important nights of the year. Yet, he was still surprised to see you walk down the red carpet, but it might have been because you always have that effect on him no matter what.

If someone asked Harry who his celebrity crush was he would say you with no hesitation or remorse. He’s been enamored with you since the first time he met you at some other after party a few years ago. The two of you were introduced by a mutual friend and he stuck to your side for as long as possible, drinking up every word, every laughter and every look you gifted him with. He thought you were way out of his league, he still does, but that doesn’t stop him from yearning after you like a lovesick puppy every time your paths cross. Harry can’t tell how many times he tried to flirt with you before, but his flirty comments were met with soft rejection every time, you never seemed to be returning the gentle feelings and though it was devastating, he knew he could do nothing.

He could at least call you his friend, more or less. He definitely has a tither connection with you than with most people in this room, there’s a bigger circle of friends you both share so you end up meeting every few months without planning it and there are periods when you’re even texting.

He hasn’t talked to you for a while now, so seeing you brought his feelings back he’s been harboring for so long.

Now as he’s sipping on his drink he can’t help but keep looking around, trying to spot you in the crowd to no avail for now. He pulls out his phone and opens the message thread with you, rereading the last few texts he exchanged with you a while back. His thumb hovers over the screen, fighting the urge to hit you up with a message when an elbow meets his side. Looking up he sees Mitch beside him.

“Your crush is here,” he informs Harry with a knowing smirk, nodding towards the bar.

He follows his friend’s gaze and spots you only seconds later. You’ve changed out of your burgundy gown he saw you wearing earlier, sporting a chic pant suit this time, but you’re just as breathtaking as ever.

Mitch just chuckles when Harry gets up without a word and heads over to you. Pushing between guests he ignores everyone who might try to strike a conversation up with him until he finally reaches you.

“Y/N, hi!” he smiles at you warmly. You turn to face him with a cocktail in your hands, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Harry! What a nice surprise!” you chuckle. “Congrats on your wins!” You don’t hesitate to put an arm around his neck and pull him into a hug that he returns gladly.

“Thank you.”

“Though it was no surprise you won, the album is amazing.”

“You listened to it?”

“Of course,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Do you have a favorite?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“Hmm, probably… Satellite.”

“Great choice.”

The conversation keeps flowing and suddenly it feels like it’s just the two of you even though it’s a crowded party that’s happening around you. Harry realizes that no matter how much time passes between each time he sees you, he will always catch himself falling for you over and over again. He tries to flirt with you this time as well and this is the first time he can feel like his rizz is not going straight over your head.

“Y/N, I need you to be very honest with me,” he starts, when you both had a few drinks. Neither of you is drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“About what?” you chuckle.

“Do I have a chance with you? For real, I’m not playing here,” he smirks, placing one hand to his chest, while holding up the other one, his half empty glass rising into the air.

You sigh deeply, looking away from him as you busy yourself with your own drink.

“Ah, it hurts!” he acts as if he was shot in the chest. “Am I that ugly and boring?”

“Of course, you’re not!” you roll your eyes.

“Okay, do you like me?”

“I do,” you admit, avoiding to look him in the eyes.

“Alright, then let’s take this conversation over to my place.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head.

“We can go to yours as well, I’m fine with that too,” Harry half jokes, but he notices that you’re not laughing. “Y/N, what is it then?”

“I need to get some air.” Jumping to your feet you leave your drink behind and head out to the back of the place that’s the smoking area, hoping to be alone for a bit, but Harry rushes after you, determined to get answers this time.

He finds you in a dark corner, your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out into the void.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if I went too far, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s… fine.”

“I just… fuck, I really like you. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you and… I couldn’t just not shoot my shot.”

“You’ve been shooting your shot for a long time.” He finally sees a tiny smile on your lips.

“So you did notice my attempts?” he grins. “Just chose to ignore them, I guess?”

“Harry, I can’t.”

“Can’t ignore them anymore?”

“No. I can’t date you.”

“Can’t as in…?”

Sighing, your head falls back, against the wall as you close your eyes for a few seconds before opening them and finally looking at him.

“I don’t date.”

“Why?”

“Because of Arian.”

The picture is finally crystal clear in Harry’s head. You’re depriving yourself from dating because of your son.

It’s no news to Harry that you’re a mother, he has even met your five year-old son, but he never thought of him as the reason why you keep rejecting him. You keep your private life pretty hush hush, especially since you split from your ex, Arian’s father three years ago. No one knows why you called it quits and there’s actually no photo of the little boy online either, that’s how dedicated you are to protect him from the public. Harry completely understands it, but he doesn’t see why you can’t date because of Arian.

“The little guy doesn’t want to share you with anyone else?” he tries to joke.

“I’m a single mother who is also an actress. My life is complicated enough without dates and boyfriends.”

“Woah, we’re only talking about one boyfriend,” Harry puts his hands to his chest. You crack a smile, but it’s not as genuine as he would want it to be.

“It’s just not the right time for me to start dating again. I’m sorry.”

“I’m a little hurt you’re not even giving me a chance.”

“I’m sure dating a single mother is not exactly your dream either.”

“Y/N, I haven’t even thought about it until you brought it up. Arian is a cool little guy and I have no problem with you being a mother.”

“You will at one point, trust me,” you scoff and Harry tries not to take it personal. You’re just trying to protect yourself and your son, it’s not against him.

“What if I prove that it’s fine? That I’m not just some random guy who will come and go?”

Staring back at him you chew on his words as you tilt your head to the side.

“We’ll see.”

At first the peace and quiet takes over your waking mind. You feel a gentle breeze from the window you left open for the night and you stretch long underneath the silky covers when it finally dawns on you.

It’s peaceful. And quiet. You haven’t had a morning like this in about… well, five years. Arian loves to wake you up whenever you’re home, jumping on the mattress, or just cuddling to you, either way, he never misses a chance to spend a morning with you.

So where is he now?

Slight panic rushes through your veins as you quickly wrap yourself in your silky robe and head out to find your baby. All the worst case scenarios flash through your mind, but they dissolve the moment you reach the stairs and hear his laughter coming from the kitchen. With careful steps you approach the source of his voice that’s mixed with another one, a more mature male voice that you don’t recognize at first but when you round the corner and see what’s happening in your kitchen, recognition washes over you.

Harry Styles is making pancakes in your kitchen with your son. And they are making a big mess, but Arian seems to be enjoying it. Music is playing in the background and there’s a ginormous bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island. Your heart flutters in your chest as you walk closer.

“Mommy!” Arian notices you and climbing off his stool he runs over to you and you gladly pick him up into your arms.

“Hey baby, what’s… what’s happening here?”

“Harry is making us pancakes!” He throws his hands up into the air in excitement as you walk over to the kitchen island and sit him down on top of it.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he smiles at you so charmingly, it’s hard to focus on the fact that he is in your house on a Saturday morning.

“Hi, what do you… Um, what are you doing here?”

“Mommy, I told you, he is making us pancakes!” Arian giggles.

“I know, baby. Hey, you’re still in your pajamas, why don’t you go up and change?” You help him off the counter and gently push him towards the stairs. He runs off singing to himself.

“Before you throw me out,” Harry starts, holding the spatula up, “You told me to prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That it’s fine that you’re a mom. So, this is our first date, in your house, with your son, so you don’t have to worry about him or get a babysitter.”

“How did you even get into my house?” you chuckle in disbelief. You’re definitely touched by the gesture, you don’t like to spend time away from Arian when you’re not working.

Grinning, he starts flipping the pancakes in the pan.

“Well, I might or might not have contacted your agent who hooked me up with your housekeeper who let me in this morning.”

“Wow, my own staff betrayed me,” you chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say betrayed. They both were happy to help me, because they want what’s best for you.”

“And that would be you?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at his cockiness. He shrugs, but his smirk tells it all.

“Look,” he sighs, turning the stove off. “I really did mean it. I don’t care that you’re a mom. It’s all good, it’s part of you. I don’t want to just come and go in your and Arian’s life. Just give me a chance to prove that it could work.”

He must have some kind of magic power over you, because he really just waltzed in here, made some pancakes and convinced you to change your mind.

“Arian will always come first for me, Harry.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he nods.

“That means that even in my limited free time, you’ll most likely have to share me with him. I’m not the type to let nannies and babysitters raise my child.”

“And I love that about you. Arian is lucky to have you as his mother.”

Staring back at him you want to say no, but you simply can’t. It’s impossible.

“Okay,” is all you say.

“Okay as in… You’ll give me a chance?”

“Yes, but don’t fuck it up,” you chuckle as Harry walks closer and his hands find your waist, pulling you closer. It’s the first time he is physically this close to you, but it feels like he’s been doing it since forever, like you belong in his arms.

“Never,” he smirks and as he leans closer you hear a pair of tiny feet running down the stairs, so you step back just in time for Arian’s return.

“Give me the pancakes!” he giggles, climbing up to a stool and you smile at Harry.

“See, he is already cockblocking you,” you whisper to him chuckling.

“Touché,” he sighs with a smirk. “But he is cute, so it’s alright.” Shaking it all off he turns to Arian as he places the pancakes on a plate. “So, what do you want on top?”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Note

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

✨✨✨✨✨

You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

#yautja thirst #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja smut #yautja #the predator #yautja prince #predator x reader #predator smut #predator x human #predator #smut #predator dark fic #yautja dark fic #dark fantasies

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skyward-floored · 5 months

Text

“Hero, what ails you?” - Chapter 3

Last chapter! Thanks for reading (or rereading!) my fic :D

First | Previous

————————————————————

Link awoke to the sight of a wooden roof over his head, a throat that felt like he’d gargled rocks, and the distinct and unfortunately familiar feeling of being utterly exhausted.

He laid perfectly still for a few moments while he woke up, listening to the sound of his breath rasping in his chest. Trying to ignore the pounding in his head, he stared blearily at the ceiling, but the sensation was too intense to ignore. Link felt completely drained, and was about to let his eyes slide closed again when he realized he wasn’t quite sure where he was. And that he should probably figure that out to avoid any unpleasant surprises in the near future.

So he blinked his eyes open further with a small groan, looking around where he’d ended up.

Based on the walls and ceiling’s slightly weathered state, it looked like he was in Kakariko, probably the Elde Inn if he’d have to guess. He was lying in a surprisingly comfortable bed in his underclothes, with a sheet on top just thick enough to keep him warm but not so much as to make him overheat. The room seemed familiar to Link as well, in fact... this was where Ralis had stayed when he was injured wasn’t it?

“Ah Link, you’re awake!”

Link turned his head the other way to see Renado standing nearby, looking pleased at the sight of him conscious. He gave Link a warm smile, and set down the book he’d been holding.

“You’ve been out for some time, how are you feeling?” Renado continued as he crossed over to the hero’s bedside.

Link went to answer but broke into a coughing fit instead, the reply catching in his throat and making it ache as his breath rattled painfully in his chest.

“Hm. Still getting there.”

Renado pressed a hand over Link’s chest as he continued to cough, then once he’d finished moved it to his forehead. He hummed in satisfaction, then studied Link’s face.

“Your cough is better, much better,” he said, relief evident in his voice. Link wasn’t so sure about that based on what breathing felt like. “You’re improving very well. When we found you I honestly wasn’t sure you were going to pull through, it took some doing to get you stable.”

Link stared at him, confusion making his head hurt even further.

When they’d found him?

What exactly had he been doing before now? He was sure he hadn’t been in Kakariko the last time he’d been conscious, but... how did he get here? Link tried to think back to what he’d been doing before he was asleep, but his mind came up annoyingly blank, still foggy from just waking up.

“Re...” he began, but his voice died out on him. He cleared his throat and tried again, and was pleased when the words behaved somewhat. “Renado, was there... anyone...” Link trailed off, blinking tiredly. “How’d... I get here? Did someone bring me?”

The healer raised an eyebrow at him as he continued his examination.

“You were alone on my doorstep when we found you, with a nasty fever and one of the worst coughs I’ve personally ever seen. Nobody else was there,” he explained gently, peering at Link’s eyelids.

Link frowned.

The last thing he really remembered was the Shade sending him out of the realm where he taught him the hidden skills, then telling him Kakariko would be the ideal spot for him to go. Everything after that was just a haze of coughing and muggy darkness.

And... arms.

Arms that weren’t warm but were comfortable all the same, that held him the same way Rusl used to when he was small and loved being carried about. Gentle, but solid. Safe.

Fatherly.

Link opened his mouth so Renado could check his throat, but only half-focused on whatever it was he was saying. Someone had carried him here, he was sure of it now.

But who?

Renado helped him sit up a little, handing him a cup and telling him to drink while he continued checking him over.

“I assumed you’d managed to get here yourself. Did someone take you?” the healer asked, checking his nose as he began to drink.

Link sipped the water, giving a small shrug. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened other then he’d ended up here somehow after being with the Shade. And he couldn’t exactly explain him to Renado.

“Hm.”

Renado finished his examination a few minutes later, and told Link that he should get some more rest. Then he left the room, but not before promising to bring some food up in a bit.

The moment the healer left Link’s shadow wavered, and the familiar form of Midna popped up, a hand resting on her hip. She looked down at him, face unreadable, before she flashed him an uncaring smirk.

“Well well, sleeping beauty awakens. All better wolf boy?”

Link couldn’t help the smile that tugged his cheeks. “Getting there Midna,” he rasped, “I’ll be... good to go within a day or two.”

Renado had said at least a week, but Link had always been a quick healer.

Midna looked him over for a bit then nodded to herself. “Good. Sooner you get your behind out of bed the sooner we can go kick Zant’s sorry carcass into oblivion.”

He laughed at that, though it quickly turned into a coughing fit.

Midna jerked like she was about to go to his side, but stopped herself, instead zipping over to a bookshelf as if that was where she’d been headed the entire time. Link watched her scan the shelves and pick a book as he finished hacking, the imp blowing some dust off the thing and studying the cover boredly before chucking it to the side and reaching for another.

“Hey Midna...” he asked as she rifled through the books on the shelf, “how did I get here?”

The shadowy imp stopped digging and stared at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t remember?”

Link shook his head.

Midna snorted, then burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she floated into the middle of the room. “You don’t? Oh you really don’t remember! Spirits that’s hilarious, he gets dragged halfway across Hyrule and owes his life to the guy, but doesn’t even remember him doing it!”

Link watched her cackle, completely unamused. “I don’t exactly see what’s so funny about that,” he rasped.

Midna wiped a tear out of her eye, still chuckling to herself. “Your sense of humor is terrible then.”

Link huffed. “Okay fine. Would you mind telling me who did bring me here?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I’m sure it wasn’t you with those skinny little legs.”

Midna’s laughter finally stopped. “Watch it wolf boy, or maybe I’ll decide to keep it to myself.”

Link rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else, raising his eyebrows at her in a pleading sort of way. A sigh came from the bookshelf, and Midna floated back over to his bed, rolling her eyes back at him.

She landed by his feet and crossed her arms behind her head as she looked at him, then examined the sheet underneath her.

“It was your mentor guy. That gold wolf you know?” she explained, “He got all un-skeletony then carried you across most of Hyrule Field. Brought you here then left, though he was acting pretty strange the whole time. Kinda clingy. More... emotional, I guess.”

Link stared at her.

The enigmatic skeleton who taught him songs and long-forgotten sword techniques had carried him all the way to Kakariko? He was the one who’s hold had felt so weirdly familiar?

He cared enough for Link to drag him all the way here?

“He— he did?” Link rasped, though if it was from his cough or the shock he wasn’t sure. “He really did? He got... un-skeletony? Since— since when could he do that—“ his voice cracked on the last word, and he broke into another coughing fit, this one going on much longer than the others had.

Midna watched him cough for a minute before finally breaking down and floating up to his side, hesitantly thumping him on the back as his hacking continued.

“Yeah Link, he did,” she said a little quietly, voice oddly serious. “You were in bad shape, so much that teleporting you wasn’t an option. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone get that sick before, at one point you weren’t—”

She cut off and looked away.

It took a bit for her to speak again, and when she did, her voice was still unusually quiet.

“You know, I think he saved your life.”

Link’s coughs finally waned, and he leaned back on the pillow, staring exhaustedly up at the ceiling.

He hadn’t even considered the Shade had been the one to carry him here. Sure he was the skeleton’s somewhat-accidental student, but taking him all the way to Kakariko?

The Shade seemed to stick solely to certain spots, only choice locations around Hyrule, and in his own strange realm. He’d never said he couldn’t be in other areas but Link always felt like it was implied, like it was physically more difficult for him to be in the waking world so he limited his time here.

He’d gone against that for Link?

The hero rubbed a hand across his eyes, his headache growing worse. There was a piece of information he was missing here, but he was too exhausted to even try and figure out what it was right now.

He held back a yawn, and felt hands push him down the rest of the way until he was fully laying down. Link’s blanket was haphazardly tossed over him, and he felt his eyelids droop.

“Get some more rest wolf, we’ve got places to be,” Midna said lightly, the sass already back in her voice. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

Link didn’t even hear her. He was already back asleep.

(...)

Link spent the next several days recovering in Kakariko under the watchful eye of Renado, and Luda as well. He felt plenty rested by the third day and decided to get a move on, but the healer immediately stopped him and repeated his orders that he wasn’t allowed to leave for at least a week.

“Link, I’ll tell you straight; you nearly died,” he said sternly, “your body needs to recover much more before you even think about continuing on your way.”

Which was ridiculous because Link felt perfectly fine.

All he had was a bit of a lingering cough, and an on and off headache that bothered him occasionally. Maybe he tired a bit more quickly now too, but it would hardly get better if he just sat around and rested.

So despite the warning, Link repeatedly tried to slip out of the village and get a move on.

But Renado knew him well by now, and had enlisted the help of the gorons and Ordon kids in keeping Link confined. He was never able get past all of them without being seen, his body too weak for him to run terribly far if he was spotted. After an attempt when one of the gorons had to actually carry him back after he’d gone into a particularly severe coughing fit, he’d begrudgingly admitted that maybe Renado had a point.

Even Midna mentioned he might want to wait a bit longer before going, stating that if he left as he was “he’d only make a mess of things,” and he was an idiot for pushing himself again.

He ended up spending a further week and a half in Kakariko recovering.

The extended rest gave him plenty of time to mull things over regarding the Shade and what exactly had happened that night he’d seen him, and though Midna continued to be dodgy about the details, he at least managed to pick up that he had stopped breathing at one point.

And apparently the Shade had gotten it going again.

He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he’d been the one to bring him to Kakariko. It was as if his brain just refused to believe it. He just couldn’t equate the stern skeleton who taught him deadly sword techniques with the gentle arms he remembered carrying him here.

But he did know he needed to apologize for having to be carried in the first place.

So once he was finally healthy enough to leave and he bid goodbye to the residents of the village, Link already knew exactly where he’d head first.

(...)

Link dismounted Epona and walked into the clearing where he’d met the Shade last, his heart thudding nervously in his chest.

He’d practically been stumbling the last time he’d been here, stubbornly convincing himself he was healthy enough to learn a new skill. Even despite the voice in his head that had sounded suspiciously like Uli’s reminding him not to push himself.

Link sighed. Looking back on it he felt like such an idiot.

He glanced around the clearing, scanning for the familiar wolf form and red eye of his teacher through the dappled sunlight. He wasn’t quite sure the wolf would even be there, but he was pleasantly surprised to see his gold fur shining in the morning sun, ears perked as he came into view.

Link swallowed and came forward, feeling the wolf’s eye follow him as he walked closer. He reached a certain distance away from the wolf, then pulled out his sword and faced him as he usually did.

A few seconds went by without the wolf doing anything and Link started to sweat.

He’d been so foolish, would the Shade even want to teach him more sword techniques? He’d been such a problem last time, he wouldn’t even blame him if he just left Link standing here like an idiot. He’d certainly deserve it.

But then the wolf growled and leapt at his face, and Link’s world went white.

(...)

He came back to himself gradually, the familiar sensation of what felt like a mist clearing from his head greeting him as he awoke.

Link blinked his eyes open and got to his feet, looking for and spotting the wolf who sat patiently a few feet in front of him. The beast stared at Link for a moment, then howled, changing seamlessly from a wolf to a skeleton.

The Shade stood silently in front of him, all six or so feet of large undead skeleton, and Link felt another wave of nervousness hit.

He swallowed and calmed his racing heart, not even letting the Shade start with his usual greeting before he began to talk.

“I... I want to thank you,” he said, and the Shade silently watched him. “For bringing me to Kakariko. And for... for saving my life. I’m sorry you had to drag me around, I’m incredibly grateful.”

He cleared his throat and ignored the faint urge to cough. “I... I hope I can make it up to you. For your trouble. I apologize for insisting I was fine during the last lesson.”

He bowed his head. “I understand if you no longer wish to pass your techniques on to me.”

Silence settled between them, and Link swallowed, continuing to look at his feet. He flicked his eyes up to gauge the Shade’s reaction, and gulped as he saw that he was merely continuing to stare.

Then he stalked forwards towards him, and Link shrank back, expecting a rebuke.

But he was utterly surprised when instead his teacher settled a gloved hand on his shoulder, giving it an oddly gentle squeeze as he looked at Link.

“I’m glad you are all right,” he said softly.

Link fully raised his head and blinked at him in astonishment.

“It does me good to see you on your own two feet again,” the skeleton continued, “and you do not need to repay me, nor apologize for my involvement.”

The Shade closed his good eye. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Link could only gape.

Then his manners kicked in and he gave the Shade a grateful nod.

“It was foolish for you to let yourself deteriorate to the point of sickness, but you’ve certainly learned your lesson,” the skeleton continued with what Link swore was a hint of amusement. “I said I would wait for you, and I have. You are healthy enough now to learn the next skill I presume?”

Link nodded, looking the skeleton steadily in the eye.

There was still an unsolved puzzle about the Shade he had no answer to, something that connected him and Link closer then just the bond of teacher and student. But Link had time to figure it out. His quest was far from over, and the Shade still had several techniques to pass on.

He’d figure it out someday.

“Then, enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed with the lesson,” the Shade proclaimed, drawing his weapon with a hiss of steel. Link drew his own, getting into a ready position as the skeleton drew back.

The Shade turned and raised his sword, his one eye glinting almost fondly at Link.

“You have a kingdom to save.”

And Link smiled, raising the Master Sword in return.

#legend of zelda #twilight princess #loz tp #hero’s shade #link #midna #loz midna #fic #hurt/comfort #sickfic #legend of zelda fanfiction #writing from the floor #and because the entire reason I’m crossposting these is because someone reported a jokey tag I had on it on ao3 #here is the jokey tag:#if you ship them I’ll break your kneecaps they’re RELATED #which is apparently severe harassment by ao3 standards??? bruh #anyway thanks for reading <3

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solarmorrigan · 5 months

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I’m so glad Robin got to rip Eddie a new one in Hands Where I Can See Them!! And ohhhh since Wayne was home when Robin was chewing him out, maybe Wayne will come in with some good advice or just parental disappointment in how Eddie handled everything. Especially if Eddie has to explain exactly how Steve discovered that Eddie thought they weren’t dating.

I love it when Wayne is a mediator in fics, but I also understand if you don’t want to add him into the fic, I just think Eddie needs a calm third party who knows he didn’t mean to hurt Steve, but will be disappointed in how he handled everything. Like what if Wayne had woken up and heard Robin’s parting shot and wants to know what she meant by that. How did Eddie dismiss Steve last night?

I’ve reread each part like five times now, thank you so much for sharing your fics 💖💖

Robin deserved to yell a bit! Not only did Eddie hurt her best friend (criminal offense), he also ruined her night, because Steve was upset, which means Robin is upset, yaknow? Like, of course she's going to do whatever she needs to help Steve out and make sure he's taken care of, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't rather nothing had happened to make that necessary in the first place

I actually did consider adding Wayne in at the end of the most recent part (did the man really sleep through that whole argument? we may never know), but I figured Eddie had probably been through enough for the moment without having to also immediately explain to his uncle what had happened. It bothers me when characters get dog-piled in fics for making a mistake - as in, person after person shuts them out or tells them how badly they've screwed up. It feels a little like saying that they really need to suffer before they can be forgiven, which doesn't sit right. Forgiveness should come from understanding how your behavior hurt someone and working to change that behavior; suffering doesn't teach you jack shit. But that's a different conversation! The point is, I'm at least trying to give Eddie breaks between people going "What were you thinking??" at him

I think Wayne will have to at least make an appearance, though. Steve's practically been living with them, and suddenly he's gone; Wayne could hardly fail to notice the change, even if Eddie wasn't suddenly moping around. And I do love mediator Wayne! The thing I want to avoid is using him as a kind of deus ex machina; I feel like sometimes we bring Wayne in to explain to Eddie how he's feeling, so Eddie doesn't have to work to reach those conclusions on his own (this happens with Robin for Steve, too, I think). It's helpful to have a third party as a sounding board, or to help break up self-destructive patterns, but I like it when characters have to do their own emotional heavy lifting

...anyway, that was probably a lot more rambling than you expected when you sent this ask, which was very kind of you to do and made me smile to read, so hopefully my answer didn't put you off??

#now of course whether or not I manage to adequately translate these thoughts into fic is another matter #anonymous #answers from solar #I didn't tag this with st or any of the characters because I didn't think it should go into the main tag but let me know if I should?

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ofmermaidstories · 1 year

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Let me preface this by saying I did check your FAQ but I didn't see this there yet I still find it hard to believe no one has asked you this at least a thousand times so if they did and I just missed it I'm sorry and you can delete this ask but—

You write such beautiful, detailed fics with lots of foreshadowing that often starts from the very beginning of the story. I think you made an author note once about only posting the first chapter of a fic after you've written the whole thing (or maybe that was Andie...?). If so, is the time between updates just you going through and rereading / editing like 100k words?

Basically, I want to ask: what is your fic planning process like? From the moment you get a first idea to posting the last chapter, what does I look like? I think you're a really, really amazing (one of the absolute best if not THE best) author but I cannot fathom how one human being can write such mammoths of fanfiction and stay motivated enough to finish them.

Also you're already planning Halloween stuff ?? You plan things literally half a year in advance?? Are you even human? We don't deserve you. 😭

You called yourself lazy in the webcomic post but I think you must work unbelievably hard to make such high quality stuff and without even getting compensation for it. You're amazing and I'm very thankful to exist in the right timeline and fandom to read your work. :,)

(oh my god this became such a ramble I'm sorry)

Oh Ari. 🥺 Hello.

I update as I write! So that was probably Andie, lmao, who’s definitely the better example to follow when it comes to plotting/completing a fic. 🥺 She’s amazing and if I could fashion myself after any other writer in our niche, it would be Andie hands down!

But okay, let’s get into it. 📝

A little disclaimer, before we start; I did not go to school for any of this lmfao. The most relevant education I have behind me is a extra-circular literature class I had during my last two years of high-school. The only reason the following works for me is because I’ve cobbled it together from years of trial and error. You can read advice and watch youtube videos about the writing habits of famous authors, but you have to tailor everything you hear to suit you and the way you work. The best advice in the world from the highest paid author in the world won’t work if you’re not wired in the same way! You have to take everything about yourself and what you like and what you want into account!

Part I—first we take Manhattan

start ur fic lol

First thing’s first; I’m a plotter. I don’t pants. If I pants, I lose interest—I need to have the final vision in front of me, even if it’s just a bullet point. I have to know what I’m working towards. That is crucial to literally everything I do. Every fic you see on AO3, every WIP I’ve mentioned working on or wanting to work on—I have always known two things about them, immediately: the hook that gets us in there, and how they end.

So for fics in particular, the start might look something like—I get an idea (I want Reader and Bakugou to kiss). And then I sit there and I brainstorm to myself (What’s stopping them from kissing? Why does Reader want to kiss someone so rude when there’s so many other nice boys out there? Is Reader particularly kissable?). And then, if I’m lucky, I think of an ending (Reader and Bakugou finally kiss, but he’s the one that initiates it, because he’s always wanted to, because he likes that Reader always wears a yellow coat to work—it’s ugly and it sticks out among the black and tan ones of the crowd but he comes to associate it—and thus Reader—with routine and his mornings going well).

This is often the most fragile time of an idea. That hook (Reader and Bakugou kiss) might fall apart with a bit more prodding (why would they kiss? Reader’s a stranger to him; most of us don’t go around kissing random strangers just because we like their coats). Or maybe the hook sticks (they spend almost years in orbit around each other, a constant near-miss) but the ending doesn’t work (I don’t know how to move Bakugou to a position where he can kiss Reader, where he has the opportunity to). For every idea you see in action, or listed, there’s like three more that died during this stage and are now being cannibalised for spare parts.

Part II—running up that hill (a deal with fic)

work work work

If our idea survives, we then move to the “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” stage; which manifests itself in this case as a doc, where I’ll just write any and all ideas I have for this little world so far.

For fanfics, it’ll generally look like—

TITLE

SUMMARY: Bakugou and Reader kiss.

(in which Bakugou first notices you because of your ugly yellow coat)

📝 Reader is allergic to diary products; for ages Bakugou thinks of her as That Cheesy Extra, because of the colour of her coat. She laughs when she eventually learns about this. (“I can’t even eat cheese,” you complain)

📝 Reader stops walking past the coffee shop Bakugou gets his coffee at, one day; moves??? Leaves the city to help a friend out for a few months. Despite himself it throws Bakugou off-kilter, and when he sees someone (not Reader) in a yellow coat during a villian attack, he momentarily loses focus—gets injured???? The news of his injury makes the news, Reader sees it in Bumblah nowhere.

📝 Her coat is donated accidentally by a roommate, in a mix up, for a charity she’s volunteering at; when Reader returns to the city, she has to make do with a new one, a more neutral colour. Bakugou recognises her anyway and that’s when he realises it was never about the coat (!!!!)

Like, this is actually a pretty good approximation of what all my current fics have looked like, at that stage, before I tidied them up and refined them into proper outlines. Because that’s what will happen next, once we have a rough idea of what we want! Things get moved, or removed—tightened. A rough plot outline takes shape! If I get any ideas for a sequel or a spin off that I might want to do, I’ll note them here (Reader’s roommate, Roomie, who’s working at a charity—eventually meets Shinsou, who’s working on a case. She thinks he’s homeless; he doesn’t realise. They carry on like this for a while.)

Once I have a rough outline (rough meaning in bulletpoints), I’ll start on my more in-depth outlines—I do these chapter by chapter! I say this a lot, but they’re basically a really rough version of said chapter. So it might look like:

Reader’s walking to work; it’s cold enough that’s she’s wearing her coat. There’s a new coffee-shop opened on the corner—it’s full, popular, you think it might be because it’s at a crossroads between two different Pro Hero agencies. Reader glances at the window, interested, but then a friend calls out and you hurry along. Bakugou, inside the coffee-shop waiting for Half and Half to get his order, is affronted; your coat is ugly as shit, and he complains loudly about it to Shouto, who mentions something about Baku. having no room to complain about ugly colour choices.

The swap between Reader/You happens a lot because I’m not using my brain properly, at this stage—I’m just shovelling the sand I need into the sandbox. Once I finish my shovelling, I go back and I rewrite it—but better, LMAO. I flesh things out, I throw things away as needed, I add things in. It’s basically really, really intensive handholding and I would not recommend it for anyone who’s already daunted by the idea of plotting; I do it because if I don’t have a chaperone there (aka my outline) then I’m prone to getting distracted. I am basically the fanfic equivalent of the undiagnosed ADHD kid at the back of the class that only gets work done when they’re sat right in front of the teacher (and even then, there’s like a 50% chance it’s not actually work that’s happening but doodles of that weird pointy S thing over and over again).

Once it’s done, though, we have a completed chapter! I then post it and wait like a little crab under some rocks for people to be tricked into being nice to me, and then I dig back in and think nice thoughts about repeating this process to get chapter two. Eventually I will—and viola! Another chapter! We repeat that over and over until we get to the end of our original outline and we have a finished story. 😌📖

Part III—you’re on your own kid

motivation

No one ever likes this part, or what I’m about to say, because at best it sounds like saccharine fodder and at worse it’s out of touch with most people’s experiences in fandom, but—the only way to stay motivated when doing a long-haul fic is that you have to do it for yourself.

People are so kind to me, about the fics I’ve done; it’s part luck and part what I choose to write and part how I write it. And I mean—I share them because I want a little bit of attention, lmao, that’s natural because we’re humans, we all want attention. But here’s the thing, here’s the secret—I take these fics 110% deadly seriously. LOL. That sounds like a joke, but I do! I do that because it’s how I’m built and how I keep myself interested in them—because taking them seriously means I’m more invested in realising the ending I’ve imagined for them since day one.

If other people stopped being so nice about what I was writing, I would be sad—anyone would. 🥺 We all want to be told that we’ve done a good job. But I’ve had the ending for the Deku fic, for example, in my head since it’s predecessor was on-going. That is literal years of knowing how I want Izuku and Scribble’s story to end. If everyone disappeared tonight I would sulk, hardcore, and then I would finish that last chapter anyway. I would finish it because I’ve spent so much time and energy working on that story that not finishing it is a disservice to the world I built around those characters and most importantly to myself. I probably wouldn’t stress as much about it, LOL, if the audience shrunk back down to just me, but I’d still do it. 🥺

I write—and try to finish—these fics because I deserve to see them finished. I want the completed tick, on ao3. I want to look at it and know that I can do it—that I can start something as simple as Bakugou hating on some rando’s yellow coat, and bring it to the finish-line where they finally come together, and see each other, without the yellow coat or through a coffee-shop window.

And this is what I mean by like, tailoring things to suit you—because I know others might be perfectly content to imagine the ending for themselves, without writing it. Or maybe they don’t want to treat fic seriously, because it’s fun escapism. Maybe disappointment that it’s not received like they thought it would be sours the whole experience of fandom for someone—there’s no right or wrong to this. I know I can write for an audience of just me because I’ve done it before. The satisfaction has always come back to the same thing—knowing I finished it, and wrapped that world up as best as I could. You have to pick and choose your poison—and then you have to run with it.

I hope that answers at least some of your questions, Ari. 🥺 Thank-you for such a thoughtful ask; for being so sweet. 🥺 You’re amazing, and I’m the thankful one—I’m glad we’re here, together. 🌷🌾✨📖

#ofmermaidstories-asks #ari do i have a tag for you? 🧐 hmMMMm #anyways i hope you have a good week and that this was at least a tiny bit helpful lmao #i should link it…. ugh i should overdo my whole masterpost tbh 😩 this is where the lazy comes in bc id rather stare at my wall tbh LMAO #first we take manhattan—then we take berlin 🎵#writing stuff

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solena2 · 1 year

Note

thoughts/analysis of davepetasprite^2

My feelings on them are kind of mixed! On the one hand, I think they’re an incredibly interesting character with a ton of potential, especially in fanwork, but on the other hand they get barely any screentime in the comic proper and pretty much the only thing they manage to do before heading off on their suicide mission is tank any chance of Davesprite ever getting to complete his character arc in a satisfying way.

As far as canon goes, I think they were probably a poor choice to add in. They don’t get enough of an arc to justify sacrificing a character as interesting as Davesprite for them, and there are some seriously uncomfortable implications attached to their whole “I got fused with a catgirl and now my depression is cured” thing. I think they could have been great if they’d been given room to really explore those implications, but they only get a couple logs worth of characterization before collide, so it ends out pretty unsatisfying, at least on my end. The way it’s framed, it’s almost like they’re supposed to be the conclusion to Davesprite’s character arc, rather than being their own character, which is just… no. You don’t get to conclude a character’s arc by turning them into a different character, that doesn’t work. That’s the start of an arc, not the end of one. Not the last one, at least.

For fanwork, though, I love them. There’s so much about them that’s worth reading into, and they’re incredibly interesting if only because their existence has necessary and intriguing consequences for any setting they’re placed in.

They’ve got memories from two different people, without really being either of them. In Dave’s case, they were the spare already and they’ve got a fair bit of trauma about it, so becoming an even “faker” Dave is bound to have some kind of effect on them. In Nepeta’s case, they’re the only version of her left, and the fact that they can’t be her, even while she’s a huge part of them, is going to Do Things to their head.

I also think they’re lying to themself about not having depression anymore. Like, they know they’re probably going to permadie to Lord English when they head off to fight him and they do it anyway, despite literally no one asking them to. That is not the behavior of someone with a healthy attitude towards the inherent value of their own existence. I’d give even odds as to whether the constant cheer is consciously a front or if they’re repressing so hard even they don’t realize how not ok they are.

I’m genuinely surprised there isn’t more fic of them struggling with The Gender Thing. Like, they’ve got memories of being both a boy and a girl, and they decide to be neither upon entering existence? There are some implications there. Like, do Dave and Nepeta have repressed Gender Feelings? Was Davesprite an egg? Them immediately picking a new gender doesn’t necessarily indicate that at least one of their components was looking for an excuse to trans their gender, but it certainly indicates something. And honestly, that not being the case would have it’s own incredibly interesting implications. Like, is their gender an extension of their identity issues? It could be. I’d read that fic.

Speaking of identity issues… wow, am I right? They’ve got at least two different kinds of impostor syndrome, three years of getting called a fake version of themself on one end and three years spent as a ghost interacting with dozens of alternate universe versions of themself on the other, and that’s not even getting into the whole ultimate self thing.

Basically, I just… I love them. They’re wasted in canon but fandom is fully capable of realizing their potential in its stead and every time I find a fic that does it well I end up rereading it multiple times because they’re just such a delight when they’re written well. They’re also the only nonbinary character in the main body of Homestuck and I’m not about to lie and pretend that doesn’t give me a massive bias towards them.

#they’re my second favorite character after hal tbh #if you want some good fics with them in a major role i could rec a couple. they can be hard to find #sol speaks #sol answers #homestuck #davepeta #davepetasprite #davepetasprite^2 #homestuck analysis #original post

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londonhalcyon · 1 year

Text

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays @tojiriki! I was your Secret Santa for this year’s @hphmsecretsanta.

For your gift, I wrote a fic involving Talbott and your MC Nancy. Thank you for answering my anon ask to help me to get to know Nancy a bit. I hope I wasn’t too far off!

Here’s the first part of the fic. The rest is available on AO3 here. Hope you’re enjoying the holidays!

“Flawed Phials”

Toward the deep black water

beneath the arches,

the swan floats slowly.

Into the dark of the arch the swan floats

and into the black depth of my sorrow

it bears a white rose of flame.

- F. S. Flint

Talbott reread the last stanzas of the poem aloud, just under his breath, quieter than Madam Pince’s superhuman hearing could catch. Imagism—simplicity, clarity of expression, and precision, without excess of verbiage. Feelings and meaning through concrete, detailed images. He could feel the narrator’s somberness—perhaps an admiration for beauty and light in darkness, perhaps some mourning for their loss. It was an excellent way to deliver a message, he thought.

But what if he should take a different approach? There were centuries of poetic movements and scores of groups within those movements and hundreds of styles within those groups. So many ways to tell someone something. So many ways to convey admiration. He could write a Shakespearean sonnet, or a series of haiku, or abandon structure altogether.

He stared at the blank piece of parchment before him, quill motionless in his hand, and then shifted his gaze back to the castle of books he’d inadvertently built around the desk. He suppressed a groan. It was no use. He had gone through every poetry collection in the Hogwarts library, from the works of scholars from ancient Greece and distant Chinese dynasties to the stanzas of French revolutionaries and English journalists, and he had yet to find the inspiration he sought.

Why was this so hard? He wrote poetry all the time. He’d never had this much trouble before.

He’d never written a poem like this one, either.

Half-heartedly, he turned another page in his book. He hadn’t gone through many of the more contemporary poems yet. Maybe he could search for inspiration there next.

“Hi, Talbott! What’s that you’re working on?”

Startled, Talbott swiftly dragged the book over the parchment. The blank parchment. That he hadn’t written anything on yet.

Brilliant move, Winger. You’re not acting suspicious at all.

Nancy had appeared next to him with a quizzical smile. “I didn’t forget an assignment, did I?” she asked, a little worriedly. “I thought the term was over.”

“It is,” he said. “I’m just, er, writing a letter for… Yeah, just writing a letter.”

“Oh.” Her smile quirked even more. “Then what are all the books for?”

“Reading,” he said, which was the daftest answer he could have given. Of course books were for reading; that hadn’t been her question. No one checked out a whole fortress of books for a bit of light reading—not even a Ravenclaw. But he didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t press, to his relief.

“Well, er, I always enjoy a good book,” she said. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. She adjusted her glasses—took her time before she settled on the right words. “I came to ask you—Dumbledore needs volunteers to put up the last of the Christmas decorations. Not many people are here over the holidays, and Hagrid and Flitwick already have so much work to do. I’m on my way to the Great Hall to help out. Would you like to join?”

“You’re staying for Christmas again?” he asked. He wasn’t entirely used to the concept of people who had families choosing to stay away from home during the most family time of the year. He wasn’t complaining; he understood—in Nancy’s case, probably more than she knew. It was just…he wasn’t used to it.

“I am,” she said. “I think it’ll be fun. It’s almost better, in some ways, to spend Christmas with friends, don’t you think?”

“I…suppose.” That was something else he wasn’t used to. The friends part, specifically.

“I’ll still write to my family, anyway.” She fidgeted with the ends of her hair. In the soft light of the library, her dark locks were a rich brown-black. “Sooo how about it? Want to decorate with me?”

“I can’t,” he said, too quickly and with too little thought. “I need to finish my, er, letter.” Which he did, sort of. He’d been working for hours with nothing to show. Belatedly, he added, “Sorry,” because he often forgot to say sorry (not that he didn’t mean it; he simply forgot to communicate it), and people didn’t like that. And he didn’t want Nancy to not like him.

Her face fell, a sign he had messed up anyway. “Oh,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink. “That’s okay. Maybe later, then.”

She trudged away. The candlelight fell across her retreating form, granting her dark hair a gentle glow where it tumbled past her shoulders. Talbott looked away. His gaze fell to the book of Flint poems, open overtop of his blank parchment.

But as the moon creeps slowly

over the tree-tops

among the stars,

I think of her

and the glow her passing

sheds on the men.

Talbott slammed the book shut, heart pounding unexpectedly. Madam Pince hissed at him from some dark corner of the library. On second thought, maybe Imagism was too direct. There were other ways to convey a message.

Quickly, he shoved all the books on a return cart, gathered up his quill and parchment, and bolted from the library, ignoring another furious hiss from Madam Pince. In the corridor, he saw green-trimmed robes about to round the corner.

“Nancy, wait!” he called, walking as fast as he could without breaking into a full sprint. The Slytherin politely waited for him to catch up. “I changed my mind. A break would be good, I think.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Library was a bit…stuffy.”

Her lips pulled into a broad grin. She clapped her hands together. “Great! This will be so much fun! I mean, decorating’s already fun, but it’ll be extra fun with you.”

“I don’t know if I’m any good at it. It’s been a while since…”

A white feather necklace draped around his neck. Red-petaled flowers crowding a chipped table. Peppermint on his mum’s hands. Paper snowflakes stuck to a pale blue wall. Music from a crackly wireless. His dad’s foot tapping in time.

Since my last proper Christmas.

“Don’t worry! You can’t get it wrong, not if you’re having fun.” She did a little spin so that she was walking backwards in front of him, hands behind her back. “You know, if you’ve been in the library all day, we could work outside. Hagrid set up a huge Christmas tree in the training grounds, and he hasn’t had the time to make it pretty. We could do it, just the two of us…if you want.”

He looked down at her (he had to; she was shorter than him) and looked at her grin, and he didn’t think he could say no if he wanted to, because his heart kept pounding. Outside would be good. Compared to the Great Hall, almost no one would be outside, so he wouldn’t be crowded. It would just be…just the two of them.

“Sure, let’s do it,” he said, before he could lose courage. “I prefer being outdoors.”

“Great! It’ll be cold out. Want to meet at the entrance hall in fifteen minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect. See you then!” She dashed off towards the dungeons, robes fluttering behind her. Talbott watched her go, feeling the sudden urge to take off into the winter mountain air and fly until his heart calmed down. He restrained himself, though, and instead walked to Ravenclaw Tower to retrieve his cold weather clothes.

London, my beautiful,

I will climb

into the branches

to the moonlit tree-tops,

that my blood may be cooled

by the wind.

That was it. No more Flint poems for him.

[Link to the full fic on AO3]

#hphmss22 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #talbott winger #talbott x mc

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raving-raven-writing · 11 months

Note

2,3,6 and 13💜

Thanks for the ask @roxynmae I noticed you changed your profile picture, it's cool, I like it! 2. Do you read/reread your own fics? I do indeed read and reread my own stories. Sometimes for fun or if I can't find anything that is new or updated with a certain tag/vibe I want to read. Other times I will reread a work if someone leaves a comment and comments on something that I don't remember where I'm like "Gotta go refresh my brain." Other times I do it out of boredom, and just to see my own work in a less critical eye. Because as I am reading fics, I sometimes forget the name of the author, and I've done that before with my own stuff, where I will read it, go and look at the author name and I'm like "Oh, that's me. Well, that was a pretty good story." 3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? I don't know if I have an all time favorite story that I've written. I have a handful of stories that I would label a favorite. One that certainly seems to be a favorite among other readers if I look at my statistics is There For You for The Umbrella Academy fandom, which is pretty good if you ask me. I also like most of the Newsies stories I've written. My Snowpiercer content is also good too imo--I have a one shot that is over 10,000 words which is my longest ever! In regards to Avatar fandom, I like A Sleepwalking Spider probably the best at the moment--puts a smile to my face everytime. 6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time? Hmm, yes, there are. Reread and or read when it's updated. I particularly like your "Sins of the Father" and also "Stolen Laughs"; those are both good rereads! Also waiting on you to update Live and Let Die Also, @lanzzo story "Frakrr Say", there's one chapter I keep rereading for a guilty pleasure. @naavispider stories Caught and Cat's In the Cradle. @stupidlytiredstudent story "You'll Be in My Heart"--freaking love how they write! @fictionramblings "Left For Dead"--like the Japez action they're throwing in there. And also their All You Have is Your Soul. @imeanwhynotbruv The Blood of Children"--make me cry why don't you and"Brother Mine". And idk if this person has Tumblr, but on ao3 CheeseSnack's "I Wish I Could Let You Go". And then also @dumbass-tumbler-cryptid "Mama's Boy" and "Cabin in the Woods"-love that they're making this a choose your own ending type thing! @mayfriend "Tabula Rasa" and @futureslaps "The Captive". And I am not sure if these people have Tumblr either, but on ao3 GobiBSide's "Custody" and Quickbow's "Radiator" Sorry, that's a long ass list! But they're all great reads! I am sure there are more I could list but thee ones that are complete are ones that come to mind now and again. The ones that are in progress also come to mind quite often as well.

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it! I don't have Spotify and I'm not one for making playlists normally. Sometimes, one or two songs will pop into my head for something I am writing. Right now, with the smutty WIP I got, "Mommy Issues" by Cloudy June is probably at the top of the very small list.

Thanks again for the asks. And, sorry to anyone that I @ if you didn't want to be.

EDIT: I realize I was looking at the wrong damn number for the last one. Oops. But whatever, I'll answer 12 too. So to answer 13. How much planning do you do before writing? I do a little bit of planning. I will normally have a general outline, and if not, I will know how the story begins and have an idea when/how the story will end.

#fanfiction writer asks #ask game tag #fanfiction writers #ao3.org #avatarfanfiction #atwow fanfiction #multiple fandoms #the umbrella academy fandom #newsies fandom #snowpiercer fanfiction #thanks for the ask

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meowydoe · 11 months

Text

@june-doe-event - day 9!

ok before I put this - this was supposed to be a comic but that would take too long for one day so I added quite a few things and made it a short fic instead

uhh I probably won’t do this again unless I have the same not-enough-time situation but I can always take constructive criticism just in case.

also I wrote this last night and didn’t feel like rereading it now so if there’s errors.. woopsie daisies

What if : the unanimous vote stayed?

Votes had been taken in for who wins the grand prize. Who wins the game. They’d been waiting for this since they first appeared in this warehouse.

Ocean didn’t realize how much this would suck. For any outcome. They couldn’t stay in there forever, if one were gone then nothing would be the same, and if she had to leave all of them behind, well, what was the point of going anyway? The world didn’t need people like her. It needed people like them. Those who would listen, those who would learn. Those who stuck together even if the bond was formed in death.

“I’m afraid there’s a mishap with our votes tonight.” The machine finally spat out.

“Huh? What do you mean? Did someone not vote? Did you forget them? We can vote again if you forgot them.” Ocean’s words came out quicker than she had wanted them to. There wasn’t much she could do about that, this was a nerve wracking situation to be in.

The rest of the choir waited for a response.

“It seems that ‘you must vote for each other’ was taken a little too seriously. Everyone has one vote. There cannot be a tiebreaker, you all would just vote for the same person once more.”

“Well there’s gotta be something you can do, right? Is there some sort of spiny wheel in here you could use? From a fair game?” Noel mentioned

“That is not how a ‘unanimous vote’ works, Gruber.”

“It would still be a better fate than whatever happens after this, though, right?” Constance asked

“Constance, five of us will still have to experience what’s after this even if the voting worked”

“…right.”

The choir stood there for a little while. Mischa looked his phone screen, cracked from the accident. He couldn’t entirely make out what was on the screen from all the damage. He did manage to spot one thing, though. He changed his lock screen wallpaper while they were at the fair. It was a blurry, poorly taken photo of him and the choir. He remembered it was taken right as he dropped his phone into the duck pond attraction that Constance insisted they go to because she thought it was adorable. Oh, how he’d miss that time. Oh, how he’d miss whoever had to leave them. Forever.

Ricky stared down at their hands. They couldn’t stand being in this warehouse with the pressure of this competition. It was so overwhelming they wanted to cry. But they couldn’t. All they could do was wait. Wait until the fate was sealed. They didn’t realize that this grand prize seemed more of a punishment.

Jane Doe sat away from the others. She knew who they were, despite not having any prior memories of them. The only one she didn’t truly know was herself. She didn’t know anything. What she looked like, her name, her family,, all the first things you would usually know in life. She did find out her friends, though. The people in the warehouse with her right now. She was given a name. She didn’t know if it was hers. But it was now. Her friends were like her family. Sort of. They felt like family. She didn’t know what she looked like, though. But was that really something to give up your family, friends, and name for?

“Thank you for your time, Saint Cassian Chamber Choir.”

“…what?” Ocean blurted

…

“Sir, what does that mean? Do we all go back? Is that what this is?”

…

“..Where…” she swallowed “where are we going after this?”

Karnak let out a sigh, which Ricky was unsure that a machine could do.

“Before our time together is up, I must tell you one last thing.”

The choir listened intently.

“My final message to you children.. is.. YO YO YOUR LUCKY NUMBER IS SEÉEÉVEN YOU WILL GET A PROMOoOoOOoTION YOU WILL SO SO SOAR TO GREAT HEIEIEIEIEIGHTS BE SUre tO ride the cyclone..”

The bright strobe lights and sparks flashed at the choir, the sound causing a frightened yelp or two. They ducked down and covered their heads. Just in case there was a second death in this afterlife.

The sparks stopped. Everyone hesitantly stood up and looked around at the now almost completely demolished warehouse. Ocean was blankly staring at the ‘corpse’ of the exploded machine. She anxiously turned her head towards the choir with tears in her eyes.

They didn’t know what would happen next. They were terrified. But they knew whatever was about to happen, they would go through together. Because that’s what friends do. That’s what family does.

#ride the cyclone #rtc #ride the cyclone musical

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ranger-kellyn · 1 year

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hello, hope you’ve been well! i reread getaway car about two or three years after my first read and i keep noticing all these little details that i don’t recall catching the first time and it’s just such a fantastic fic!! i love cynthia and diantha so much!! i adore how you wrote up their rocky beginning and how they resolved it, it makes their trust in the later chapters feel so much more intimate <3

this was just a fast question that i had when i was reading (noticed during my diantha rarepair phase), but i think in chapter 4 diantha mentions having slept with someone in her league before. if it’s alright with you, may i ask who it is? i’ve kinda got my fingers crossed on malva, i think it would make the comments of malva complaining to flint about diantha so silly HAHAHAHA

no worries if you’d rather not respond to this, i’ve been meaning to leave a comment on the actual fic itself but i’ve been having difficulties with my Ao3 account, i just wanted to drop by and say i love your writing!! and i hope the new year treats you well!!

hello, and thank you so much!! ;v; it means the ABSOLUTE WORLD TO ME when people tell me they've read my fic more than once, so THANK YOU!!

it makes me so happy knowing at least SOMEONE was still wondering about that throw-away line lmaO

i actually fully plan on finally unveiling that answer! not until the near end, though, so i'll ease your mind and let you know that yES. it absolutely was Malva dkjfhl

i pretty much ship Malva/Diantha exclusively as exes. usually amicable, sometimes a little less than depending on the story i'm working on. One of these days i’ll hopefully write something where they’re actually happy together lol

And heck. You know what? i'll preface this with "this is all subject to change" seeing as i could change my mind about pacing and whatnot as i actually close in on fishing up the fic, but how about a preview of the section where i do answer this

Leaning over, she said more quietly, “I’m gonna go make sure my team is ready for a battle,” she said.

“I’ll be cheering from the sidelines, darling,” Diantha said, kissing the top of her hand before letting go.

Slipping away into the stairwell that would take her down to the main floor, when the door took too long to close behind her, she hesitated.

“Got a minute, Sinnoh?”

Malva.

“Sure,” she said, waiting on the lower tier of stairs.

She stopped at the bottom step, leaving them at equal eye level. “You know– she wasn’t kidding when she said that was just a preview of things to come. That? That was weak and tame. Imagine that, but with cameras, and mics, loud bright flashes, and questions of varying levels of intrusive being yelled in your face– are you sure you’re up for that?”

Certainly not what she had expected –then again, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting from her in the first place.

“I only got flustered because it was coming from people I know,” she said, trying to be careful about her approach. She didn't have to know Malva to sense she was someone to tread lightly around. Especially considering her media background.

She hummed, not convinced. “Are you ready for all of your own accomplishments to not matter because, in the public’s eye, you’re literally nothing more than ‘Diantha’s Girlfriend’? If you even get that luxury? If the public just insists that you’re just her “best friend”? Are you ready to not be able to be out in public without someone running up to you both? Are you prepared for all the wild accusations that will come from people? Are you prepared to mentally, and probably even physically, defend yourself from all the wack-jobs who think they’re her soulmate or some shit? Are you prepared for the fact that she has multiple stalkers? Dudes who are so out of their mind with their obsession with her that they’ll literally break into her apartment just to sleep in her bed?”

The last one about made her sick –a story Diantha had told her about.

“What’s with the interrogation?” Cynthia instead asked, side-stepping all the terrors.

Malva stepped down, getting as up in her face as she could. “Because if you even put her through half the shit I know Mel put her through– I will put you six feet under so fucking fast, nobody will be any the wiser.”

For someone who specialized in fire type pokemon, her delivery was nothing short of ice cold. Cynthia didn’t doubt her for a second.

She shifted her weight, taking the smallest step back. “You know– I could stand here all day defending myself to you, insisting I’m prepared for it– but I think we both know that’s a lie. Diantha knows it’s a lie. I can try to tell myself I’m prepared– but at the end of the day I’m not…” She shrugged. “Unless you were born into it, I don’t even know that it’s something someone can be prepared for. All I can really do is trust that I love her more than all of that terrifies me.”

Malva regarded her for a long few seconds, orange eyes scrutinizing her every move. When her shoulders fell in a half-sigh, Cynthia finally felt herself relax. “Stronger woman than me.”

Just like that, Cynthia finally connected the dots.

In passing, Diantha had joked about the media loving to speculate she was involved with Seibold, completely overlooking the person in her league who she had actually been involved with. Cynthia had never pressed her to tell her who that was. If Diantha wanted to say, she could, but it didn’t feel like something she needed to know.

It was Malva.

She wasn’t there to interrogate her for fun– she was doing it as an ex. Someone who had likely seen firsthand all the aforementioned horrors.

Cynthia couldn't hold back a small laugh.

“I had my chance, but gave it all up after convincing myself I’d never be enough for her. Practically pushed her into that shithead’s arms…Not trying to make the same mistake twice,” she admitted.

As harsh as she could come off…Cynthia at least appreciated the honesty, and knowing someone was so fiercely in Diantha’s corner.

“What’s stopping you from putting Mel six feet under?” she asked, clearly as a joke.

Malva threw her head back in a laugh. “Only the fact that Diantha would know it was me,” she said, getting a defeated laugh from Cynthia.

#stars n light #i hope the new year treats you well too!!#getaway car fic #my fics #okay tumblr dot hell this is like....my fifth time trying to post this ask pLEASE.....

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sapphirelass · 2 years

Text

Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Reader

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧I solemnly swear that I am up to no good✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

'Ello everyone! Once again it's been ages since I posted a story. I promise I am writing!!! I'm just... writing veeeeeerrrrrrryyyy slowly... But hey, what can one do?

Tbh, I'm not too sure about this one, but I have been working on it for weeks now, so I'm just gonna post it and hope someone likes it. I have some other fics coming up (hopefully) soon - and mainly HP actually! I started writing for Percy Jackson, Team Flash, Spider-Man and a few other characters, but I'm in such a Harry Potter mood at the moment (thanks to the 20th-anniversary reunion)... Ahhhh... I don't know! Anyways, I'll get back to writing for someone and let you all enjoy this sad thing for now! See yah!

Note: As always I'm finishing this late at night meaning I will probably have to reread this one more time and check for potential errors, but it's late, so I'm just going to trust Grammarly and post it for now! Enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

+ CEFR level C2 (due to passing the C1 advanced test with an A)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 3,1k

Warnings: Mild swearing, death eaters, cruciatus curse (not very descriptive), angst, feeling anxious

Enjoy! :)

Read as xOC instead of character insert

~~~Failure - Weasley Family x Weasley!Sister~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m serious, dad, there’s nothing to worry about - the plan is fool-proof!”

(y/n) rushed furiously up the stairs of her childhood home with her backpack in her right hand. She had been trying to get everything packed for half an hour, desperately wanting to be 100% ready once her mother would wake up, as it would be next to impossible to prepare for her next job with Mrs Weasley around. (y/n) had however not expected her dad to be too much of a problem - it was usually him who would convince his wife not to worry about the kids every time they left the house - but clearly, the task she had been assigned meant taking a risk so big that even Arthur was hesitant about letting his daughter go.

“I know it sounds that way, sweetie, but this job is not like anything you’ve ever done before, it’s… It’s… It’s different, an-”

It felt both weird and oddly familiar at the same time. She had moved to her own flat a few years earlier and had gotten used to not having overprotective brothers and parents trying to prevent her from going on dangerous missions. Originally, she hadn’t planned to go back ‘home’ until after this job, but her mother had started driving her younger siblings mad, causing them to send a letter asking their older sister to PLEASE come home and help prepare for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It had been a long time since (y/n) last had to handle this situation, but her father seemed to have no problem picking up where they left off.

“How, dad?” She turned around and violently pulled a hand through her red hair, desperately trying to keep her voice down. “Apprehending people who turned to the dark arts is literally my job, at least this time we know what to expect! We just have to transport the death eaters from point A to point B as smoothly as possible, and even if they should try to break free, there’ll be four of them, and twelve of us - surely three aurors could take down one wandless death eater?”

Arthur remained quiet for a few seconds, causing his daughter to put her backpack on the floor, walk a few steps back down the stairs, and pull him in for a hug.

“Look, Dad, I know it’s not without risk, but… I’ve got to go. I don’t think the question any longer is if you-know-who is gonna take control of the ministry, but when, and once that time comes we have to be prepared for anything. The best we can do is make sure the most dangerous people are in a secure place, and well guarded. As much as I hate it, Azkaban is the safest bet, otherwise, they’ll all be back out on the streets, and everything we have worked for these past two years will have been for nothing. We’ll just have to hope that the dementors won’t switch sides. I’m sorry... I love you.”

It wasn’t only a long hug, but a long-awaited one as well.

“I love you too, darling, which is why I don’t want you to do this. I understand your reasoning but…”

“Dad? (y/n/n)? You’re home already?”

(y/n) looked over her dad’s shoulder and immediately walked into the arms of the person who had called her name - her older brother.

“Bill…”

He hugged his sister tightly and put his right hand comfortingly on the back of her head. She was shaking slightly, but Bill pulled her in even closer and put his head on top of hers. This was why (y/n) always tried to prepare, pack and leave quickly every time she was assigned a mission - that way she left no room for any nerves and could focus on the task at hand without getting too scared or anxious. Don’t get it wrong, she loved protecting others and knew it was an important job, but overthinking things just made her realize how much she had to lose. Being around her extremely caring family made that even worse.

“Shhh… (y/n), breathe, easy, you’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know, I know… It’s just, I don’t like thinking too much about it. I’m good, though, and I’ve missed you.”

“I know… ‘n I’ve missed you too. Hey, not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you home? And awake?”

“Mum needed some help with the wedding preparations, and…”

Bill moved his gaze from his sister to his father, silently asking for a response.

“Your sister is leaving for work.”, said Arthur slowly. “It’s just not an easy decision. It’s not-”

“-It’s not safe.”. (y/n)'s gaze wandered nervously around the living room - her parents’ house still being one of the few places where she felt properly at home. She smiled slightly when she noticed a brown plush rabbit sitting on a shelf. It was her favourite toy when she was younger and had been her father’s before her. “Heck, it’s really, really dangerous, but it has to be done. I don’t have a choice, and as much as I would love to stay here with you, the longer I do the harder it becomes to leave.” She sighed. “But I have to go. Bill, will you please tell mum I’m sorry when she wakes?”

Bill looked at his sister, not really wanting to let her go, but understanding exactly how she felt. “Of course.” He grabbed the backpack and handed it to her before placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Stay safe, okay? Promise us that!”

“Bill-”

“(y/n/n)!”

“Stop it! You know I can’t promise something like that. I swear I’ll do my best, though.”

“Good. Then go, I’ll see you next week?”

(y/n) smiled. “Yeah, around lunchtime on Wednesday. Bye, Bill. Bye, dad.”

Arthur looked out the window and sighed sadly as his daughter disapparated. “I remember when I feared for her life because she kept climbing the big apple tree… Now I almost wish she was there, hanging on to one of the top branches, swinging back and forth.” He closed his eyes and leant against the wall behind him. “At least then I could see her. Make sure she didn’t fall.”

“I know, dad. But she’s not a kid anymore.”

“She’ll always be my kid.”

“She’ll always be short.”

“Bill!”

“Jokin’! C’mon, dad, let’s go have a cup of tea, yeh?”

————————

‘The plan is fool-proof!’ (y/n) coughed slightly and regretted her words as she was hit with yet another curse. The plan had been fool-proof… apart from the fact that someone at the ministry clearly had leaked information to the death eaters. The mission had relied on secrecy. It had been planned in secret and only the 12 aurors and a few ministry officials had known the details. Despite that, around 30 death eaters attacked as soon as the transport had left the city, and due to their numbers, the aurors barely stood a chance.

“Jackson, we need to get out of here as soon as possible! There’s no way we’ll be able to fight them all off.”

“You’re probably right, Weasley.”, he shouted while sending a death eater flying off his broom. “But how did this happen? We were so careful!?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” (y/n) swiftly flew out of the way as a flash of green light almost touched her side. “But that doesn’t really matter right now. Wilson’s wounded, can you help him.”

“Sure.”

“And then get out before anyone’s killed.”

He frowned and nodded towards her. “You too.”

“Yeah, course. I’m just gonna try to take Dolohov down. I really don’t want him out and about again.”

The auror seemed to doubt his college’s decision for a second but was familiar with her family’s history with that particular death eater. “Fine, but be careful! I mean it, (y/n/n).” He looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks!”

“Oh, you know me, Jacky. Careful planning, no risktaking.”

“Good. See you in the office tomorrow, then. Good luck.”

————————

(y/n) battled her way through a few death eaters and eventually found herself sneaking up on Dolohov.

“Expelliarmus.”

He turned around in surprise as his wand flew out of his hand.

“Incarcerus.”

Thick ropes bound the death eater, effectively preventing him from escaping. However, (y/n) was so focused on arresting the man who murdered two of her uncles that she completely missed someone approaching her from behind.

“Crucio”

She fell and dropped her wand as intense pain spread through her body. It was pain beyond anything she could ever have imagined. She unwillingly let out a scream as the pain intensified before suddenly lessening. Despite coughing and struggling, she tried to get back up on her feet but fell yet again as the same kind of agony, only a hundred times worse forced her to focus solely on not passing out.

“Well, well, well… We counted on a few random aurors to stand in our way, but who knew we’d stumble upon a blood traitor as well, huh?” The death eater, Augustus Rockwood, leant forward and spat on the ground, right by her face where she lay twitching in the mud. “How does it feel down there, Weasley? Feel at home?” He pulled (y/n) to her knees and Dolohov, who had managed to untangle himself from the rope, walked up to her and grabbed her face roughly. “Striking resemblance”, he whispered before letting her fall again. She fought to get up but failed due to the horrendous curse still causing her pain. Her eyes slowly closed as she passed out on the cold, hard ground.

————————

“Good morning, dears.”, said Molly, cheerfully entering the kitchen after having forced everybody to get up at first light. She had been under extreme stress lately but seemed to be in a much better mood today and the rest of the family knew why - (y/n) was coming home. Sure, that didn’t take away from the fact that the upcoming wedding meant a lot of hard work and careful planning, but having her oldest daughter home would at least help ease Mrs Weasley’s worry. “She’s not back yet, is she?”

“No, mum”, yawned Fred. “but-”

“She said she wouldn’t be back before lunch.”, finished George tiredly.

Their mother didn’t answer, but muttered something incoherent and went to prepare breakfast.

————————

Hours passed as the family worked to get everything ready, both for the wedding and for Harry’s birthday. Molly was so busy with preparations that she completely lost track of time, however, Fred & George started sharing worried glances around 10 am. Bill eventually noticed and had, a few hours later, become way too curious.

“Why do you two keep looking at the clock every other minute?”, he asked. “She said ‘lunch-time’, that could mean another 2-3 hours? Besides, it’s not like you to worry?”

“Well…it’s just…”

“Whenever (y/n/n) lets mum know when she thinks she’ll come home, she usually adds a few hours, sometimes an entire day.”

“That way, when she ends up being slightly late, mum doesn’t immediately lose it…”

“To be honest, we were kind of expecting her in time for breakfast, definitely before noon.”

Bill pulled his hand through his long hair (which he had not allowed his mother and her scissors to come close to) and glanced quickly out the window before looking back at his younger brothers. “Well, there’s not much we can do at the moment, is there? She’s smart and strong. Besides, it’s best not to get worried too easily, it’s probably just that dim-witted head of the department forcing her to work overtime.”

————————

(y/n) groaned loudly as she slowly pushed herself up. She felt dizzy, her entire body hurt and she had no idea where she was. Actually, scratch that last bit. Looking around, she realized she was in a field of some sort and could see burned parts of the now broken carriage they had used to transport the prisoners. Her hair was dripping wet due to the heavy rain and she was freezing. (y/n) struggled to stand and tried to determine roughly where they could have been when they were attacked. She knew that they had travelled northeast from London, towards Norwich, and that they probably hadn’t made it much further than Chelmsford. Her exact location didn’t really matter, though. It’s not like she could walk from London to Ottery St. Catchpole. That would take like two, maybe three, weeks in her current state - and that’s if she made it at all. No, she’d have to apparate, just not the entire distance in one go.

————————

“Bill, dear”, said Molly worriedly. “When did your sister say she’d be back from work?”

“I- I’m not sure”, Bill stuttered, as he sped down the stairs. “Around… dinnertime, I think?”

“What?”, asked Ron. “You said she said lunchtime!?”

Bill threw his head back and sighed as Fred kicked his younger brother under the table.

“Oh”, mumbled Ron, finally understanding. “Yeah, Bill’s right. She definitely said the evening.”

————————

But, dinnertime came and passed. Still no (y/n). When she still hadn't made it home a few days later, the Weasleys were forced to simply accept that something more serious had happened and just try to keep their hopes up. Molly, naturally, refused. Arthur had, while at work, done his very best to contact the other aurors that had been working that night, but unfortunately remained unsuccessful due to the now tense and strained situation at the ministry. Fleur had suggested delaying the wedding, but Bill insisted, claiming that this gave them even more of a reason to do it while they still had the chance. He could, however, barely stand the thought of not having one of his sisters there; it was difficult enough that Percy refused to come…

————————

She didn’t know how much time had passed, maybe a week, but eventually found herself slowly approaching her childhood home. After taking a few heavy steps, she stumbled slightly and would have tripped if not for two strong arms firmly grabbing her shoulders to keep her standing. She should probably be scared but somehow knew not to fight them.

“(y/n/n)!? Bloody hell, what in Merlin’s name happened to you?”

“Charlie?”, she gasped and grabbed her older brother’s coat as her legs suddenly gave out. “Is it really you?”

“Yeh, of course, it’s me.”, he put his sister’s arm over his shoulders. “(y/n/n), I literally just came home, where have you been? What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Work, attacked, Rockwood”

He looked her up and down with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, come on - let’s get indoors.”

They walked slowly, Charlie carefully making sure that (y/n) didn’t fall and simultaneously pepping her with questions. “How long have you been away? When were you supposed to get back to mum and dad’s?”

“Ehhh… I-I don’t know… A couple of days ago, maybe? It’s all kind of hazy right now, to be honest.”

“Holy Merlin… But wha-”

“Charlie, sorry”, she coughed slightly, “but would you mind if we wait? Mum and dad are going to want to hear everything and I don’t wanna have to relive it more times than needed…”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He knocked carefully on the door, and it was only a matter of seconds before Arthur slowly opened it. He had his wand in a tight grip and was about to have Charlie confirm his identity when he noticed the state of the person standing next to his son. Their father’s eyes widened in shock and he looked absolutely horrified.

“Molly! Bill!!”

(y/n) hadn’t heard such fear in her father’s voice since Ginny had been taken into the chamber of secrets four years earlier. He swallowed deeply. “Come in, quickly.”

Charlie put his sister on the sofa just as their mother, older brother and the twins came running down the stairs. They all grinned happily when they saw Charlie, but the smiles faded almost instantly.

“(y/n/n)?” George effortlessly jumped over an old armchair and kneeled by the couch. “Are you okay?” He removed some blood from her face using the sleeve of his jumper.

She smiled and nodded weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t” *cough* “don’t worry. What happened to your ear?”.

Bill and Charlie embraced each other quickly while Molly joined George on the floor. The two oldest brothers both glanced at their sister. She lay so incredibly still; completely motionless save for her steady breathing. Just as those thoughts crossed his mind, Charlie noticed something and was about to point it out when Bill beat him to it.

The oldest brother had walked over to join his family by the sofa and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “(y/n/n)? You’re twitching.”

“I know.” She sighed deeply. “It’ll pass, though.

He looked deep into her eyes and fought to keep eye contact when he whispered, “was it-”

“Yes”, she answered honestly. “But, Bill, I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay. Besides, it was way worse a few days ago… Speaking of which, what day is it?”

“Wednesday”, said Molly bitterly, obviously understanding the meaning of the words just exchanged between her oldest son and daughter, but deciding not to push it further. “10 days. 10 days, (y/n/n). Not a word?”

“I’m sorry, mum. Truly.” She then explained everything, from the detailed plan to the overwhelming defeat. “Imagine if we had taken them down instead?” She put her head in her hands and sighed sadly. “Imagine how many people will die now, because we let them all go.”

“Sweetie”, sighed Arthur, taking her hands in his. ”You didn’t ‘let them go’. You did everything you could.”

She closed her eyes sadly. “Not enough, dad.”

“(y/n/n)”, said Bill seriously. “You can’t think like that. We’re at war, we can’t go in expecting to keep everybody safe. There will be casualties. Some of the death eaters didn’t make it either. Think instead of all the people who will survive the war now thanks to you.”

“Bill, I know for a fact that Rockwood and Dolohov got away. We’re all…”, she glanced carefully at her mother. “All aware that they won’t hesitate to kill. A-”

“It’s not like they’re invincible now?”, Fred interrupted. “(y/n/n), you’ll get another chance. Just rest now, please. You’ll be back in the field in no time, and it’ll be like this never happened.”

“Sure, bu-”

“No!”, said Molly with a firm tone. “No buts! Fred is right, you need to rest, dear.” She kissed her daughter on her forehead and left the room. The others took that as a sign and left the room with a quick ‘sleep tight’ or ‘g’night’.

(y/n) Weasley tried to listen to her family and put this minor setback behind her. She managed it for a while. At least until that fateful day of the final battle between good and bad. The day when the consequences of her failure became clear. The day her younger brother lost his life because of her.

~ L

Masterlist

Mischief Managed

Nox

485 notes · View notes

koushou · 3 years

Note

i love it smmmm omg. the megumi fix is amazing it’s more than i asked for ❤️❤️ bro 6,9k is a blessing you don’t understand how glad it made me it’s so worth the wait. tumblr is so dry when it comes to anime fics and especially w megumi thank you for feeding me something other than the crumbs this website gives me. i don’t want to be too annoying but whenever you’re free if you could do a pt 2 cause that ending omg. i love it sm and i can’t thank you enough ❤️

pairing : megumi x f!reader [fluff]

warnings : slight makeout scene idk HAHA nothing too intense though (also not proofread because i wanted to get this posted as soon as i finished it)

wc : 3.5k

a/n : ur too sweet omg and im FINALLY back from procrastinating your request again anon… (i really apologize i don’t mean to take so long pls forgive me D: ) i hope this is what you wanted!!

pt. 1 (you don’t really have to read pt 1 to understand this part but i do recommend it)

loud chatter echoes through the large modern dining hall located on the second floor of the hotel.

“i’m… so full…” a certain pink haired male burps for the nth time as he still continues to stuff food into his mouth. gojo laughs at itadori’s passion for the hotel food, while doing the same as he takes a large bite of a pancake.

you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and leaning back in your cushioned chair, already finished with your 3rd plate of breakfast. i mean, who could blame you? hotel breakfast food just hits a different type of way.

“so, spill all the juicy events that happened last night, i wanna know!” nobara nudges you excitedly, her eyes twinkling as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

rolling your eyes, you look away from the ginger female and pretend to not have heard her. accidentally, you were now faced towards megumi, sitting on the opposite side of you. your eyes met for a brief moment before you quickly turned away, breaking the awkward interaction.

“aww— c’mon, y/n! please—“

“nothing happened at all! and don’t think i forgot the way you ignored my knocks on your door yesterday,” you shot her a glare, earning a sheepish laugh in return.

“but... in the same bed..?”

you were about to retort back when gojo stands up and claps his hand over his stomach, which now seemed just… a few sizes bigger.

“alright! have we all finished our food? god, when did hotel food get so good— anyway, it’s time to pack our things and head back home!” your constantly enthusiastic teacher exclaims, as a waiter comes to collect your plates.

after thanking the waiter and paying the bill (poor gojo-sensei’s wallet), you all head back upstairs to drive back home.

a thick silence hangs over your room as you and megumi collect your items, not wanting to bring up any events from last night. finally ready to head out, you walk towards the door to open it until another hand reaches the handle at the same time.

you retract your hand quickly, while the other hand lingers in the air above the knob.

“oh— sorry, you can go first!” you gulp, backing up a bit so megumi can exit first.

he pauses for a second, twisting the knob until the door pulls open. you expected him to walk out, but he makes his way to the other side of you instead, still holding the door open.

you look over at him with a questioning look, receiving a slight shrug and a hint of a smirk.

“ladies first.”

why was his stupid face so handsome?

you shook your head at his teasing expression, making your way out the door to the carpeted hallway, him following close behind.

the others were already at the lobby waiting, their conversation becoming clearer as you reach them.

“what’s taking them both so long? you don’t think they’re too busy… y’know…” nobara’s usual cheerful voice carries her words to your ears, making you roll your eyes and spook her from being.

“boo.”

“i’m just sayin- oh my go—“ she frantically turns around, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just you.

“you scared me!”

“what were we talking about?”

“nothing important! come on, we should get going!” nobara nudges gojo and itadori ahead, escaping you as she scurries out of the lobby.

you hear a yawn from behind you, a tuft of black hair moving past you as you suppress the urge to laugh at megumi’s already messy hairstyle, amplified by his morning bed hair.

finally, you were all seated back in gojo’s car, ready to drive back to the school so you all can head back to your own homes.

the ride back was full of gojo’s irritating voice singing along to songs playing from the car radio, itadori laughing along, and the rest of you too excited to leave the car.

“alright kids! we’re here, make sure to be safe on the way back home!”

gojo waves to all of you as you hop out of his car one by one, basking in the cool summer air for a few seconds.

“see you guys!”

itadori jogs away, heading in the direction of his own home, followed by megumi, then nobara, and lastly, you.

upon reaching your house, your mother welcomes you, asking about your day, if you had fun, and other typical mother questions.

you were telling her about your day when you suddenly recalled the hotel night events, and scurried away embarrassed upstairs to your room, leaving a very confused mom behind.

you flop down onto the bed, face down, wanting to get a good few minutes of quiet nap time in before your phone dings with a notification.

grunting, you pull your phone out from your pocket, swiping across the screen to check the message.

surprisingly, it was from megumi, eyebrows suspiciously raising as you open the text message from him. you two rarely texted unless it was about school or business-related, so you couldn’t think of anything he would need from you right now.

megumi : Hey.

megumi : I have your hair tie with me. You probably left it in my bag or something.

megumi : I’m coming over in 5 minutes.

you sat up abruptly, rereading his messages to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

you had been so caught up with his prior messages that you failed to register that he said he was going to be at your house in… 5 minutes.

hurriedly, you swiped to see what time he had sent that last message. 12:34 AM.

your eyes moved to the top of your phone screen, reading the current time. 12:37 AM.

almost falling out of bed scrambling to your room mirror, you checked your appearance to make sure you looked fine and your hair wasn’t messy and-

you paused.

“why am i so concerned about how i look? why do i care about this?”

you slapped your face with both hands, bringing yourself back to reality when you were interrupted again, but this time by your doorbell ringing from downstairs.

making your way out of your room, you saw that your mom had already opened the door with a familiar tall figure standing in the doorway.

“oh! megumi, it’s been a while!” your mom lets megumi in with a smile, already going to the kitchen to make him some tea.

he bows politely, sitting down on the couch, now changed into a loose white t-shirt with black shorts.

“uh- theres no need to make me tea, i won’t be here for too long—“

“nonsense! you can even stay for lunch, dear megumi! i just have to prepare the last dish and—“

you finally clear your throat, standing at the middle of the stairs, catching both of their attention.

“oh, y/n! i have to go out to the grocery store for some ingredients, take care of our guest megumi, alright?” she places two cups of tea on the table in front of megumi, grabbing her keys to head out.

“wait, mom—“

she sends you a wink by the door, already outside before you can finish your sentence.

you sigh in defeat, sitting across from megumi on the other couch.

“here.”

megumi pulls out a black hair tie from his pocket, almost identical to the one currently around your wrist.

you raise your eyebrows in suspicion at the hair tie. “but i only have one? and i didn’t bring any extra yesterday..?” you motion to your own arm.

he looks back and forth between your wrist and the one he had in his hand, scratching his head in confusion.

“it was in our hotel room, so i assumed it was yours.” he shrugs, placing it on the table. “but if it isn’t, i can just throw it away.”

you hum, taking a sip of the tea your mom prepared as he does the same, cringing as the still hot tea burns his tongue.

“pfft…”

he glares at you, placing the cup down as his eyes scan around your living room, taking in the decorations.

“i’ll just keep it then, it seems new.” you take the forgotten hair tie on the table, and wear it around your wrist, now decorated with two black hair ties.

he nods, sitting back against the couch, silence falling between you both.

a question suddenly popped up in your mind, your mouth moving faster than your brain.

“you came all the way here… just to give me a hair tie?”

the question seems to set him a little nervous, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact as he fidgets in his seat.

“well— i figured i’d return it to you before i forgot,” he shrugs, reaching out to take another sip of his tea before pulling back quickly again at the heat.

you nod slowly, still unconvinced with his answer. who goes all the way to someone’s house to return a hair tie?

“okay then, see you on monday?” you get up, ready to send him back off.

his head snaps up, still not moving in his seat as he opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure of how to respond.

“um- i thought your mom said i could stay…for lunch…?”

he averts his eyes, pink dusting his pale cheeks as he looks away. your mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape as you recall your mom’s words and those were - in fact what she had said.

it wasn’t that you were against him staying for lunch, but you two weren’t even friends or remotely close at that. rivals would even suit you both better than friends.

“but if you want i can, uh, leave now,” he starts to stand, looking uncomfortable in his position across from you.

it was then that you remembered megumi’s background, that his mother had left early at birth, plus his father wasn’t exactly present.

you couldn’t imagine living without your parents, and how lonely he must be without true family.

“no! i mean, that’s not what i meant, you can stay.” you sputter out before he gets the wrong idea.

his eyes seem to light up at your words, nodding before sitting back down on his previous spot on the couch.

you glance over at the time on your phone, it had been around 7 minutes after your mom had left.

the tension was thick in the room, and just when you thought you were about to explode from the awkwardness, he finally breaks the silence.

“do you… play that?”

you turn to where his eyes are placed on, seeing your black xbox console laying on top of a cabinet, having been untouched for a while.

“oh that? yeah, occasionally, why?”

you hear a snicker from beside you, snapping your head to find his lips curled into a teasing grin.

“oh, i just didn’t think a nerd like you would play games.”

you raise your eyebrows at his words. “you sure about that? it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at games either, megumi.” you make sure to stretch out each three syllables of his name to tease him further.

he huffs while leaning back, still maintaining intense eye contact with you, almost challenging each other to say something back.

“how about this, whoever wins against the other gets to make them do whatever they want. no matter what it is.” he nods over to the console, tilting his head as he waits for your response.

you chuckle, standing up to take the console, fiddling with it for a moment before turning back to him.

“alright, just don’t cry when you lose too much, okay?”

he shrugs, smirking as he looks around the living room for the other console, making you remember something.

“oh, the other console plus a TV is in my room, wanna just play there?”

he stiffens suddenly, before nodding slowly and following you upstairs to your room.

reaching the door, you suddenly stop, making megumi grunt and come to a stop, almost crashing into you.

“uh - wait here.”

you open the door just enough to slip inside, quickly gathering some of your belongings and cleaning as much as you could, to at least make your room seem presentable.

“okay!” you open the door for megumi, who makes no move to enter at first.

“...”

“you can come in.”

“... is this okay?”

you cock your head, not understanding his question.

“your mom isn’t home.”

“...so?”

“we’re alone.”

“and?”

“i’m… going into your room.”

“what is your point?” you began to grow frustrated at this conversation. then, it hit you all of a sudden.

“ahh, megumi? have you never been in a girl’s room alone before?” you snicker, shaking your head from laughter.

he starts to protest, before quickly closing his mouth and finally entering your room.

you connect the two consoles into your TV in your room, sitting down on the edge of your bed as you load up the games on the screen.

“you can sit here if you want,” you pat the empty spot next to you, to which he carefully sits down on, taking one console from your hand.

“ready?”

he nods, as you start the game.

-- --

“what--?!”

you throw your hands up in frustration, groaning as you flop backwards on the bed.

“i told you, you can’t beat me.” megumi chuckles, dodging a stuffed bear you threw in his direction.

you huffed, sitting back up, determined to beat him at least once.

“one last rematch!”

he lets out a laugh, a rare one that you think you might just never forget, and starts the game again.

after a few minutes of intense clicking, yelling and laughing, you let out a proud shout, the word victory flashing across your screen.

you pick up another stuffed animal from your bed and toss it straight at megumi’s face, celebrating as he lets out an ‘oof’ and glare back at you.

“but i still won around, 7 times, so i get to make you do something- oof-” he stumbles back again from another stuffed animal to the face.

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about--” you pretend to not have heard him before your vision goes momentarily black from a soft object hitting your face, a pink bear landing in your lap.

“hey!”

“what, you keep throwing them at me!”

“fine…”

“hey, why are you getting so close--!”

you tackle megumi backwards onto the bed, throwing your pillows at his face -- not very gently -- as he tries to shield his arms in vain.

“ahh—! okay, okay, i’m sorry, stop it—“ he huffs as you finally stops your attack, his dark blue orbs looking up into yours.

you only now noticed your close proximity, quickly sitting back up to create some distance between the both of you. he clears his throat, fiddling with one of your pillows.

“well, a loss is a loss, what do i have to do?” you sigh, admitting your defeat.

“hmm…” he seems to be lost in deep thought, probably trying to find the worst thing he can make you do.

after a few silent, intense seconds, he finally speaks.

“are you… free tomorrow?”

you turn to him, giving him a questioning look at his strange question. he only stares back at you in response, awaiting your answer.

“um… yeah, i’m free the whole day, why do you as-“

“come watch a movie with me tomorrow.” he blurts out quickly, not even letting you finish your sentence.

you gape at him, still processing his words, unsure if you had heard wrong.

“... sorry?”

his face was reddenning by the second, yet his eyes remained firmly on yours the whole time.

“let’s go watch the new movie in the theater. i heard it’s quite popular already despite releasing only last week.”

“oh… okay, i can ask nobara if she wants to com-“

“don’t!” he says a little too loudly, clearing his throat after as he regains his composure.

“i mean, i- just, you.”

“just.. us?”

he nods.

silence fell again between the two of you, unsure if he was asking you what you thought he was asking you. you decide to test the waters cautiously.

“man.. it’s almost like you’re asking me out on a date, megumi?” you tease lightly, expecting a ‘tch’ or an, ‘as if’.

“so what if i am?”

now that was an answer you weren’t expecting.

“you’re.. joking, right?”

megumi sighs, moving closer until his body was mere centimeters away from yours.

“i’m serious.”

“do you... like me or something?”

he stares at you blankly. “would i ask you on a date if i didn’t have feelings for you, idiot?”

you only just realize how stupid your question sounded, trying to find a response until he reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand.

they felt soft, yet slightly gruff from constant training and fighting, large enough to cover one half of your face. they were warm, slightly trembling probably from nervousness, yet made you wish he’d never take it off.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. we can forget this ever happened.” his own cheeks turning slightly pink, yours probably even worse as the space between your faces closed in slowly.

“but i don't think i can do this anymore, so just let me be a little selfish this once, okay?”

barely registering his words before he moves in to kiss you, soft lips moving against the other as his hand tightens against the side of your cheek. you barely register your own actions anymore, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair, moving down to his neck, and finally finding home cupped around his face.

he groans against your lips, pressing you down until he was now hovering above you, never breaking the kiss even once in the process. you lost track of how long you both had been making out in your bed before you hear the front door open from downstairs.

frantically, the both of you separated in fear of your mom catching you in the act, catching your breaths while still processing what just happened.

you hear shuffling from downstairs, standing up to escape megumi before you were pulled back into a warm chest.

“wait—“ his arms wrap around you to trap you from leaving his grasp, your eyes looking everywhere but his, and suddenly your wall was the most interesting thing in sight.

“are we… really going to pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally gather the courage to look him in the face, almost melting at the soft pout set on his (now slightly redder than before) lips.

“ilikeyoutoo.” you get out quickly before you lose the chance to say it again.

he stiffens against you, eyes lighting up almost like an excited puppy receiving treats. “you like me? i didn’t hear you, so can you say it again?”

you huff, trying to wriggle your way out of his arms, only resulting in him pulling you closer to sit on his lap. he presses his forehead to yours, chuckling at your futile attempt to escape.

“i said— i like you—!” you ram your head into his, making him groan in pain, loosening his hold on you. the perfect chance for escape.

you saw the opportunity, dashing to the door, twisting the knob, almost getting it open until—

“nope,” megumi’s hand stops the door in time, instead twisting you around until your back was now flat against the wood, both of his palms placed beside your head.

“y/n? megumi?” your mom’s voice calls from downstairs, but all you could hear was your heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“megumi! move, my mom’s home,” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away to no avail.

he grabs your pushing hand and places it on the left side of his chest, letting you feel the soft but fast thumping of his heart, almost matching the pace of your own.

“this is all your fault. you’re not gonna take responsibility for it?” he inches closer to your burning face, making you huff and grab his face.

you press your lips to his, feeling him immediately return the kiss, but you pull away after a few seconds, leaving him still trying to kiss you again.

“nope, my mom’s home, and i’m hungry.”

you open the door, seeing your mom begin to set the table with plates of food downstairs. you look back at megumi, who still looked sad after getting his kiss cut short.

sighing, you take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together before pulling him down the stairs.

“come on, it’s time for lunch. you’ll get more later.”

you feel him perk up, giving your hand a squeeze as he follows close behind.

you steal a glance at your wrist, still wearing both the hair ties. good thing he hadn’t noticed you stuffing one into his bag this morning.

#megumi x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro oneshot #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi

464 notes · View notes

goodboylupin · 2 years

Text

It's that time of year again! Welcome, returning participants and newcomers alike to

The 2nd Candy Hearts Challenge

A fun, stress-free Wolfstar mini-fest!

(If you remember how last year went, feel free to skip my introductory spiel!)

They’re sold by many companies and known by many names: Candy Hearts, Conversation Hearts, Sweethearts, and Love Hearts. Whatever the brand and whatever you call them, they’re the signature sweet of the season. Sure, you could buy your beloved a box of chocolates, but that’s an option any time of year! Good luck finding these bad boys in November!

Not that candy hearts are bad! Sure, they’re kinda chalky… and they taste stale no matter how fresh you bought them… but it’s not about the taste with candy hearts, it’s about the pastel, the experience, and above all else: the sayings! Who doesn’t remember going through a pack with friends, trying to find the kookiest message? Digging through a box to find one that was just the right level of romantic to give a certain special someone? (And maybe the heartbreak when you received one in turn where the message was just a big, pink smudge?)

Now, candy hearts have been around for a long time. And with a constant rotation of messages so we always got fun variety in a box, they’ve had a lot of sayings.

Through a great deal of internet sleuthing (and a little creativity on my part), I’ve collected almost five hundred of them.

Some are a little raunchy (TEASE ME), and some are outright rude (EW NO). They range from classic (BE MINE) to contemporary (SWIPE RIGHT) to were-at-one-point-contemporary (FAX ME). Some of them are, quite frankly so hyper specific it’s a wonder they made it into circulation at all (ME JULIE BEST MUM).

And they are all, even the weird ones, ripe with potential as fic prompts!

The way this mini-fest works is simple:

From now until 11:59pm EST February 14, drop me an ask containing these emojis: 🍬💕

If you don't want to send an ask from your main tumblr account (or don't have a tumblr account), you can do so anonymously. However, you must include the ao3 handle or tumblr sideblog from which you plan to complete the challenge.

I will shake my Great Big Box of Candy Hearts and pull out a unique candy heart for you and only you!

With your message in hand, create whatever that candy heart inspires and your own heart desires! Fanfic, art, graphics, playlists, head canons, shit posts, interpretive dances, cosplay, meta essays, it’s all great as long as its central focus is on Wolfstar, the relationship between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black!

You can either directly quote your candy heart message in your work or use it as a broader inspiration.

You are allowed to use the same candy heart as inspiration for multiple unrelated works and submit all of them to the fest.

You do not need a beta before submitting your work, but I do encourage you to get one. I want this to be as stress-free an event as it can possibly be, and in my personal experience, it reduces stress to have someone else look over your completed work for at least spelling and grammar so you don’t have to reread your own stuff and psych yourself out before posting. If you don’t have any fandom friends with whom you feel comfortable sharing your fanfiction, there are also online resources to find a friendly stranger (including, hopefully, our discord server — see rule 17). But if ultimately, you’d rather be your own editor, I certainly won’t reject your work!

Include the following caption at the beginning of the tumblr post or AO3 beginning notes: For @goodboylupin's Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was ____.

If posting on tumblr, please make sure the @-tag of your caption is working so I get a notification! Also tag the work with #RSCandyHearts, preferably within the first five tags.

If posting on AO3, post your work to the collection and tag it with #RSCandyHearts (it will probably not be common enough to be a drop-down option, just type the whole thing out and hit enter).

I will reblog every work on Tumblr, and comment/kudos on every work on AO3. (If I haven't done so on your work and you see I've been active on this blog, then both the @-notification and #RSCandyHearts tag failed. DM me a link!)

If, after completing your first work, you want another helping of candy hearts, that’s more than welcome! Since I don’t want anyone to get a sugar crash, there is a two-day wait period between submitting a work and getting a second (or third or fourth or wherever you are) candy heart. You can send the ask earlier, but I will wait two days before answering it.

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ladyreapermc · 3 years

Text

Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)

Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.

Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this!

Wordcount: 3125

Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.

Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?

She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.

Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.

Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.

So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.

Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.

When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.

Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.

“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.

You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.

His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.

“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”

“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”

“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.

“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.

“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”

“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.

“Awesome!”

Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.

“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.

“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.

“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.

“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”

I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.

“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”

“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”

You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.

“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.

“Yeah, why?”

“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”

“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.

“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.

“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.

“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.

“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.

Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.

“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”

He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.

Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.

You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.

“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.

“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.

“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”

You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.

“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.

“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.

“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”

“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.

You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.

He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.

You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.

As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.

Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.

“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.

“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”

He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.

“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.

He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.

“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.

“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”

“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”

You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.

“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.

xxx

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#johnny utah x reader #johnny utah x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #point break fanfic #fanfic

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