#i said this like 3 times already but happy tail day don’t forget to stream <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

To add yourself to my Taglist, click HERE

CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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

Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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

Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

844 notes · View notes

watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Losing

This was written as a request for the eternally lovely @samwisethegr8. Hope you like it, baby! Idk where the chipmunk stuff came in, I must’ve had forests on the brain or something. As always, I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Losing

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3283

Summary: Losing her hair following a spell makes it challenging for the reader to feel like herself.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hair loss

Dean knows better, by now, than to say anything about the beanie you straighten as you get into the backseat, giving you some soft eyebrows in the rearview mirror that are maybe worse than if he’d kept joking about it. Typical, for the spell making your hair shed like some cartoon pulling out fists in a temper tantrum to be one of the few you’d seen hang on after the casting witch died. You’d been doing research for weeks now on ways to get it back with nothing to show for your efforts except a few stomachaches from attempted potions (and one influencer-inspired collagen and ACV concoction you’d dumped out after feeling ridiculous). Sam had convinced you that getting back into the swing of things might make you feel better, and was trying a little too hard to be cheerful next to his brother in the front seat.

“The weather’s so nice today—sometimes you forget how good the sun feels, being in the bunker for a while.” He flashes a smile over to Dean expectantly, willing him to say something encouraging too. Dean looks exasperated for a fleeting second before relenting.

“Yeah, uh, great day for a drive.” You catch the tail end of his tiny eye roll in the rearview mirror.

“If you guys are going to treat me like an invalid I’m out of here.”

“Invalid? I just think it’s a nice day out,” Sam says, trying for indignancy through his put-on ignorance and not quite hitting it. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he’s able to hold onto it for about 2 seconds of eye contact before his face relaxes into more familiar kindness. “Okay, fine, sorry. I’m just happy you’re coming.”

He’s unphased by your glare back at him, keeps up the sympathetic puppy dog eyes because he knows your snark is coming from a pit of frustration and self-consciousness. Just like Dean’s tenderness of omission in not saying anything about it today, it’s simultaneously comforting and annoying. You feel a lump forming in your throat. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Sam seems a little hurt.

“Like I’m dying or something. Both of you. I’m serious, you’re making it so much worse.”

Dean catches your eyes in the reflection. “Kid, you just seem so fuckin’ bummed. It’s only hair, it’s probably even going to grow back.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not going fucking bald! So, are we going or are we doing group therapy in the driveway all day?” You can hear that you’re being too harsh but can’t muster up the energy to stop, flopping into the seatback with your jacket balled in your lap. Sam and Dean exchange a look and Dean turns the key in the ignition.

It really is a nice day, sun streaming through the windows of the Impala and cutting the still-slightly-chilly spring air just enough to be pleasant. You make a conscious effort to let go of your indignation, counting farm houses on the way out of town as a sort of meditation. Dean starts singing along to the Deep Purple tape playing, and when he catches a glimpse of your smirk he really hams it up, banging out the drum line on the steering wheel and pulling faces that would make Billy Idol jealous. After a few bars you can’t help yourself and start to laugh, the excited accomplishment that breaks through Dean’s act to light up his eyes sending a pang right to your heart. He holds his fist up in a facsimile of an invisible microphone to Sam, who plays along. By the end of the next song the Impala is rocking like Madison Square Garden, radio up so loud you can barely hear your own thoughts as you scream-sing until you’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The music changes over the next few hours, the volume turned down for snippets of conversation or debriefing about the upcoming case from Sam then back up for one of Dean’s favorite B-sides, and by the time the sun is going down you’re genuinely only thinking of how hungry you are while Dean turns into a diner that stands alone sharing a parking lot with a strip mall.

Dean’s two steps toward the restaurant by the time Sam has the back door opened to offer his hand to you. He looks surprised when you don’t take it right away, standing there awkwardly for an extended beat with his palm outstretched and his head tilted like a curious dog.

“I’m not going in.”

Through the windshield you can see Dean stop and turn back toward the car, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets like he thinks he’ll be waiting in the chilly evening for a while. Sam wraps his fingers around the top of the door and runs his other hand through his hair. “Babe, come on, it’s just some stupid diner. No one will even notice.”

“Sam, I’ll notice. Forget it. I’ll wait here, you guys go—grab me a sandwich or something.”

His lips tighten into a sympathetic but frustrated line and he looks over the car to his brother, who shrugs without taking his hands out of his pockets. Loud enough that you can hear him through the windows and around the car, Dean calls out, “How’re you planning on talking to the sheriff if you won’t even walk into a diner, hot shot?”

You match his volume. “Good point—I’m not planning on talking to the sheriff, I’m staying in the motel.”

Sam takes a deep breath and winces. “You don’t know anyone here and we’ll never see them again. You’ve gotta eat something. Please?”

“You’re not the fuckin’ Elephant Man, you’re a chick wearing a hat,” Dean offers loudly, absolutely not helping. Sam shoots him a look that says as much and clenches his jaw. Dean shrugs and opens his jacket with pocketed hands as if to say ‘what?’ Sam jerks his chin toward the diner and Dean nods, spinning lazily on his heel to walk in alone. When Sam moves forward, you slide over on the bench seat to allow him to sit next to you in the backseat.

“It’s just hair.” He says, low and soothing, just above a whisper. “You’re still the same person.”

You let your head roll back onto the seat behind you. “You don’t get it—my hair was the only pretty thing about me.”

Sam’s face contorts in disbelief like you’ve just told him not only are unicorns real, but you have one in your duffel bag. “What?”

“You heard me,” you repeat, training your eyes Dean through the diner window, winking at a woman in her mid-twenties whose cheeks are full and cherubic under bright, friendly eyes. You can see even from here that she bites the inside of her lip to keep from beaming back at him, holding onto his gaze for a beat longer than necessary before taking her tiny notepad back to the kitchen.

Sam shifts to put himself more directly in your line of sight. “Baby, the pretty thing about you is you. These hands are beautiful because they’re yours, because they, I don’t know, put an extra dryer sheet in with the laundry so it smells amazing, scratch Dean’s back when he can’t fall asleep. Your eyes are the first ones I want to see every day, not only because they’re beautiful—and don’t argue with me about this for once, please—but because they’re the same ones that always seem to notice that last symbol we’re looking for after I’ve read a stupid book of runes 400 times. Your lips—” he pauses, touching your lower lip with his thumb so light it could be a feather, “—are beautiful because they’re the only ones that I can hear your voice through. Was your hair beautiful? Of course. And it’ll be beautiful again.”

“You don’t kno—”

He rolls his eyes. “I do know, but even if it isn’t, you’ll still be you. You can borrow mine if you want.” Sam’s eyes are so earnest, so sweet as a tiny smile tugs at his mouth, that you can’t help yourself as you lean forward and press your lips to his. The way he kisses you back is such naked affection and relief, slipping a hand around the side of your neck to cradle your jaw, that it’s hard not to believe it’s how he really feels.

The moment is broken when Dean opens the driver’s side, startling you enough to take a sharp intake of breath against Sam’s cheek. “Quit sucking face and look alive,” he says, nonplussed as he hooks an arm over the front seat to hand you a paper bag filled with Styrofoam boxes.

“That was, ah, fast,” Sam replies, and it’s almost steady enough to hide the stammer.

“3 BLTs, not like they fucking built the Great Wall. Waitress in there said there’s a motel in the next town over, 10 minute drive.” He waits until you have the bag supported with a hand on the bottom and one taking the handle from him. Sam squeezes your thigh once before slinking back into the front seat, but Dean’s eyes stay trained on you. “Touch my fries and die.”

You manage to keep your mitts off everyone’s fries until you pull into Walnut Suites a few minutes later, thinking to yourself it sounds like some kind of hotel for squirrels and hope sort of absentmindedly it’s one of the kinds of motels that decorates to a theme; even when they’re stupid—maybe especially when they’re stupid—anything to break up the monotony of thousands of motel rooms over the years is welcome in your book. Sam coming out of the office dangling a room key attached to a plastic walnut is evidence that you might be in luck, and you grab the food as you get out of the backseat.

Dean already has your duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “This feels light; you bring your gun?”

You wait a second to see if he’ll figure it out himself, but Dean only raises his eyebrows and juts his chin out like you haven’t heard him. “Hardly need a blow dryer now, do I?”

If there was more light in the parking lot you’d probably have been able to see Dean’s cheeks flush as he cleared his throat to cover. “Uh, right. Do still need a gun though, so as long as you’ve got that.” He offers Sam his bag and shuts the trunk as his little brother reaches the parked car.

“Apparently we’re in the chipmunk room.” Sam’s going for above-it-all but he knows you secretly like this kind of shit and drops the key into your palm with a wink. “It’s the only one with queens instead of fulls.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “I’m hungry enough I’d eat a damn chipmunk.”

“What does that even mean?” Sam asked, annoyed in a way only a sibling can be as the brothers trail after you to the room.

“That I’m fucking hungry, what do you think?”

“A chipmunk is like, the smallest animal you could possibly say. It doesn’t make any sense; anyone could eat a chipmunk.”

“You trying to chow down on a chipmunk kabob, Sammy? Aren’t you like 99% vegan now? It’s the principle of the thing.”

Sam rolls his eyes in over the top sarcasm. “Yeah, I’m vegan now, that’s why I’m about to eat a BLT with mayo, dumbass.”

“Bacon doesn’t count. And it’s about timing; you said chipmunk room, I said I could eat a chi—you know what, I’m not explaining this to you. You either understand comedy or you don’t.”

As you open the door, the light from the room illuminates Sam’s bitch face kicking back on his neck. Winchester bickering had already put a smirk on your lips but the décor was everything chintzy you could’ve hoped for; forest embroidered quilts on the beds and a chain of hand-holding chipmunks that appeared to be hand painted in a waist-high border around the walls. The bed frames were made of those stripped logs that could look very chic in otherwise minimalistic Scandinavian architecture, but here they looked impossibly cute and dorky with chipmunk stuffed perched on each bedpost. Dean seems not to notice any of it at all, throwing his duffel on the bed closest to the door and snatching the bag of food out of your hand.

The three of you eat watching Alf while sprawled on various furniture. When the half-hour flips the programming over to Mork and Mindy, you offer Dean the rest of your fries and get up to stretch your back. “Either of you dying to use the bathroom? I want a shower.”

Both shake their heads so you grab your ditty bag and head to the reasonably sized bathroom, trying not to be startled at the large Chip and Dale portrait painted onto the back of the door that reveals itself in the mirror when you go to set your things down. It’s clean and the water pressure is good, which is far more than you can say for many similar places you’ve stayed in, and you linger in the shower longer than you need to, shaving your legs twice for an excuse to stay under the water and out from under the oppressive weight of your self-consciousness here where the boys can’t see you. Washing your remaining hair as quickly as possible and chuckling once, mirthlessly, at the lingering reflex to squirt the amount you used to need into your palm, you finally leave the shower with only momentary nausea at the amount of hair you have to grab from the drain to let the water empty. For the ever-growing list of pros and cons for shaving your head you’d been building in your head: no more shucking these sopping hairballs into tacky little wastebins across America. You wrap a towel into a turban around your head more as a reflex of propriety than anything, marveling again at the amount of rituals there are—were—around hair. Maybe being unburdened by that would be freeing. And it feels sentimental in an annoying pseudo-useless way staying attached to the hair that remains, like lingering in the victimization of this stupid spell when you could just as easily shave your head and be done with it, become some kind of Tank Girl badass version of yourself and pretend you’re too cool and tough to care about girly shit like ponytails and the way Sam held his nose to the crown of your head sometimes, took a deep inhale of you and smiled so you could feel it laid on top of your hair like a tiara more precious than any you could imagine. In any case it won’t be right now, so you throw the loose t-shirt you’d gotten from your bag over the towel on your head and slip on some athletic shorts before heading out to the room.

You were in the shower for even longer than you thought because Dean is in his standard “just-before-sleeping-on-the-road” outfit, having lost the flannel he wore that day as well as his belt. The jeans will come off just before he gets in bed, pooled on the floor with neatly set boots beside the mattress so he can jump into them like a firefighter if he needs to, an old habit that you’d stopped making fun of the Winchesters for when it actually had come in handy a few times. Sam usually folds the jeans and sets them on top of his boots next to your bed. Dean grabs one of your hands and flips it over for inspection as you walk by. “Surprised you’re not a raisin. Going to send this county into a drought.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly and toss your toiletries on your bag as you head to your bed, watching Sam brush his teeth in the kitchenette sink. Dean follows with a tight handful of clean tee and boxers as Sam comes back to you, the younger Winchester grabbing the back of his collar to tug off his t-shirt and toss it on top of his bag in one fluid motion before folding back the sheets and getting in. Over your shoulder, the shower turns on and you can hear Dean humming through the door. The beanie you’d taken off was exactly where you’d left it, and you flipped your head over to take off the towel on your head and replace it with the hat as inconspicuously as possible.

“Babe, you don’t—” Sam starts softly, stopping when he sees you turn back to him with your jaw set.

“Can we just go to sleep?” you reply, almost succeeding at keeping the sting out of your voice. He bites his lip and nods mostly to himself, flicking the covers on your side back in invitation. You crawl in, turning your back to him partly to be wrapped up by the warm shell of his body and partly so he can’t see your face. A large hand covers your hand where it lays on your sternum, intertwining your fingers in his and pulling you back into him a touch. After a long minute of listening to the shower-dampened noise of Dean going through Skynyrd’s greatest hits, you feel Sam’s voice through the knit on your head.

“I feel like we’re camping.”

“What?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“You wearing a hat to bed, you only do that when it’s freezing.”

“I really don’t want to tal—”

“I know you don’t, but I just…you’ve been boxing me out for weeks now. Listen, I know I don’t get it, I know it’s not the same as if it had happened to me, and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but I don’t care about your hair. I mean—fuck—not like that, I care about it because I care that it’s affecting you, but I just wish I could get you to understand that nothing about the way I think of you has changed. You’re always going to be the sweet, funny, badass girl I’m beyond lucky lets me hang around. It’s like this spell took your hair but the real punishment is putting this wall up around you.”

You take a deep breath to steady your voice and realize there’s no way you’re going to be able to talk without it cracking, instead just yanking the hat off your head and letting it fall to the ground beside Sam’s jeans. He hesitates for a second before pressing his face to you, and you can feel the smile against your scalp. It’s a struggle, but you manage not to wince when he kisses a spot you know is effectively completely bald.

“You smell good,” he murmurs against you, and you don’t know why it’s that simple statement, after all the flowery poetic things he’s said for weeks and especially today, but there’s something about the total acceptance, no hint of the disgust you thought was inevitable no matter how hard he tried to insist wasn’t there, that melts you. It’s enough to unwrap some of the defensive prickliness you’ve built up, and the amount of emotional energy you’ve been putting into keeping it there dissolves the way it sometimes does the second your body realizes the adrenaline of a hunt is no longer needed and you crash in the backseat of the Impala. The heat from Sam’s body and the delicate sound of his heavy breathing on your neck puts you to sleep before Dean’s out of the shower.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @winchestergirl2 @samwisethegr8 @nobxdy @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @fairlyspnfanfic @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @mimaria420 @huntheimpossible (s)

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

106 notes · View notes

honghunni · 3 years

Text

San Daddy top Oneshot (MLM)

requested

Contains:

Choking Daddy kink Scratching Restraint Public teasing after care suggested but not shown unsafe sex.

You met San a while back and had been talking kinda casually and hooking up whenever you could. You hadn’t really done anything super exciting, just normal vanilla sex when ever you got the opportunity as there usually wasn’t time to prepare for or do anything else. San lives with his members and you have a roommate and are both pretty busy so it didn’t happen often. It’s a bit stressful as everything has to be a bit secretive, you know what people can be like with their favourite idol. Luckily San knows a lot of exclusive places that people can’t exactly crowd around or get into unless they know someone, so he’s able to take you out occasionally. You like those places a lot since they are expensive.

Tonight San asked you to meet him at a restaurant at 5:00pm. It is currently 5:20pm;

He is late.

Usually you would be inside before he arrived and vice versa, but after a recent sasaeng incident they weren’t letting you in without San.

After some time you felt someone practically fall on your back.

“I’m sorry!” They said sounding almost like they were dying from being out of breath.

Obviously it was San.

“It’s like 10 degrees I’ve been waiting outside for like 20 minutes they wouldn’t let me in because you weren’t here.” You ranted at him

You were going to continue berating him until you saw the way he was looking at you.

“How am I supposed to be upset with you when you look at me like a sad lost puppy?”

You both walked in, San tripping a little bit at the enterance.

You went to this place a lot but you were always dazzled by the interior, it really didn’t look like much on the outside as it is intentionally inconspicuous.

“I won’t give you a limit this time you can get anything you want I feel bad for being so late.” He said spinning the menu on his finger

“It’s ok really, but since you said that I want this!” You pointed to the most expensive thing on the menu and you could see San’s soul leave his body through his eyes while reading the price.

“O-okay..” he said with a very dejected sigh.

You felt a little bit bad but the excitement of getting to eat a huge expensive meal overrided that very quickly.

“How has everything been going? I heard you were planning comeback.”

“Yeah we are but the usual publisher doesn’t want to do this one so we have to find another and the dance is a lot more complicated than the others so we’re constantly arguing right now and-“

As soon as you asked that a huge stream of words just poured out of him, he must not have had anyone to talk to about this.

After a few minutes of venting San simply put his head in his hands and sighed.

“Is this why you were late?”

San looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Did you forget you asked to have dinner with me because of all this? So you realised last minute and rushed here?”

San starts playing with the salt shaker on the table

“I debated not coming because I want you to always see happy San and not sad San but I also really wanted to see you but I forgot to message you and I couldn’t cancel because when I realised it was too late and-“

You placed your hands on his face

“Just forget everything that’s bothering you right now, ok? You’re here now and I require attention and you can’t give me attention if you’re stewing.”

The food came out and it looked even better than it did on the menu which literally never happens so you were very excited. San started tapping his feet while he was eating, it’s a sign he’s content but it is a little bit annoying so you put your feet on his to make him stop. He slid his feet out from yours and put his on top instead, smiling at you. It quickly became a game, one that you were clearly going to lose if you played by his rules. When he went to do it again you swiftly but gently put your foot right between his legs, he flinched so hard he hit the table with his knees and choked on his food. He leaned in and whispered. “You can’t just do that to me with no warning, what are you trying to gain?”

“What do you think I’m trying to gain?” You hissed.

San reclined back into his chair

“You know I actually already rented a motel, the members are all taking a break from eachother and they don’t expect me back for 3 days.” You knew exactly what he was suggesting because of how he was eyeing you. He suddenly started taking food off of your plate and put it on his. “You’re going to want to eat less, also I’m not letting this go to waste it cost me too much.” San spooned a huge amount of food into his mouth. You wanted to eat all of it, but honestly the meal you chose was too big for you anyway and now you have ‘extra plans’ so it’s probably best. He wrote an address down on a piece of paper and handed it to you like he often does, he stood up and leaned over the table close to your face. “Leave 10 minutes after me.” He quickly checked to see if anyone was obviously looking and kissed you on the forehead before leaving.

When you walked out there was already a taxi waiting to take you. It didn’t take too long for you to arrive. As soon as you walked into the door San hugged you tightly. “You take longer than I do, go wash up first there’s spare toothbrushes and stuff.” You went into the bathroom and San sat on his phone; after some time you walked out and he quickly got up for his turn and left his phone unlocked. You thought it would be harmless just to quickly look at what he was looking at, just a quick glance since you don’t really think it will be anything interesting. You read aloud to yourself what was on San’s phone screen. “San x Seonghwa daddy kink.” You quickly realised what you just read out loud and grabbed the phone to read the rest of the page. You felt a bit jealous, you were right here yet he was reading stuff about fucking someone else. You blinked and suddenly the phone wasn’t in your hand anymore, San had snatched it from you, he ran out so fast his hair wasn’t even dry it still wet. You won’t lie he did look kinda hot like that. He looked at his phone seeing what you were reading. “Why are you reading about you and Seonghwa? I’m right here! Are you bored of me or something?” San looked dismayed. “N-No I don’t read them for that reason.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I read them to see which members the fans want to see me interacting with and just to see what they are writing about.” “Is that really all? Are you into anything written in that fic?” You barked.

“Actually…I do like some of it,”

His answer both did and didn’t surprise you.

“And I also read them for ideas of things to try.” He took your hand and guided you to sit on his lap. You asked “What do you want to try?”

“I don’t know how much you read but I’m curious about pretty much everything that was on that page.” He held you close to him.

Since you had nothing to lose you decided to try.

You whispered in his ear “Daddy.” You felt his entire body tense. You looked at him and giggled a bit. “Do you like being called daddy?” He didn’t say anything he just started kissing you; a lot more amorously than you were typically used to. It was as if you suddenly triggered something in him you had never seen before. He pulled away. “Are you ok with pain?” He asked abruptly, you were already slightly out of breath. “I think I am but I’ll tell you if I really don’t like something.” He instructed you to take off your clothes and of course you agreed, he took off his shirt also. He grabbed the tie laying on the bedside table, he tied your hands together tightly with the tie. “Is that okay?” He asked. “Yes daddy.” You replied, as soon as you said that you felt the tie pull a bit tighter suddenly around your wrists. He tenses every time you call him that. He he ran his fingers through your hair lightly tugging occasionally and checking to see if you were receptive to it. He grasped your hair hard with one hand making you kneel in front of him and with the other hand taking out his dick. You couldn’t really react to what happened because he’d already forced himself into your mouth slowly fucking your throat. Despite the typical stereotypes of tops/doms being somewhat silent, San is very vocal, in part because he is sensitive, you were used to it but he was much louder than usual; clearly really enjoying being aggressive with you. After some time he finally let you breathe, loosening his grip on your hair.

“Are you okay?” He was checking on you again. “I didn’t say stop.” you responded. San shoved you onto the bed and hastily fixed the tail of the tie to the bed. He grabbed the bottle of lube that was provided in a complimentary basket by the motel and put it on his fingers. He gently inserted two of his fingers up to the second knuckle into you carefully sliding in and out. He was going almost painfully slowly, enough pressure for you to feel it but not enough for you to really get off on it. You were desperate for him to do more. "Please" you said, looking at him so he knew what you were asking. "Please who?" San snickered.

"Please Daddy." It was definitely more embarrassing to say this time, but you kind of liked that. He went faster and deeper. At some point he added a third finger, you're not really sure when he did that but you definitely noticed it after a while. He stopped after maybe 10 minutes, he looked at you and the condoms that were in the box with the lube and then back at you. "What if we didn't use one this time?" You had never really done it raw with San before, or anyone, but you thought about it for a bit. You definitely liked the idea of him cumming in you.

After you told him it was ok he grabbed your thighs and pulled you towards him positioning himself between your legs and placed his hands beside your head. He leaned down putting his weight on you and kissed you while gently stroking your hair.

He moved down and softly licked and kissed your neck and then abruptly bit down hard and pulled your hair. He started biting up your shoulder and neck making sure he was leaving marks. Still biting down on your neck he eased himself into you. He sat up, held you down by your neck and fucked you slowly. "Can I do it harder?" San was already sweating a bit.

"Uh, of course you can you don't even have to ask."

San smiled a bit at your answer and tightly squeezed his hand around your neck fucking you much harder than before, his other hand, slightly shaking, gripping the headboard for stability.

He released his hand from your neck and gripped your thighs so hard you could feel his nails digging into your skin. He was going even deeper and his eyes keep fluttering closed and his moaning keeps getting lower pitched. You like how his voice almost sounds like a growl when he starts getting close.

He leaned over you again holding you to his body his lips up against your ear. "Beg for me to cum inside you." San dragged his nails down your side leaving welts.

"P-Please." You meekly pleaded.

He dug his nails into you harder, breaking the skin. "Do it properly." He said in a voice you don't think you ever heard come from him before.

"Please Daddy."

He grabbed onto your shoulders and fucked you harder than you think he ever has. It almost felt as if you were being punched in the stomach. You could hear his moans becoming more high pitched and his breath started becoming really shaky. You could feel him practically collapsing and he suddenly wrapped his hands around you tightly, biting your neck again. After a little while you felt him relax and he let go of your neck, San was panting heavily. He sat up after recovering for a few seconds and pulled out of you. He giggled a bit. "Wow, I came a lot, it's leaking out of you. You did too, I felt it when I was holding you." You saw he had cum on his stomach and chest from you and you did as well. He sat next you you and cuddled you gently. "Let's shower together." He said.

"But we both showered earlier," You said "It's a waste of water."

"We aren't paying for the hot water" San smiled.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez san #ateez san x reader #ateez san fanfic #ateez x male reader #san x male reader #kpop male reader

133 notes · View notes

ravenforce · 4 years

Text

Stark Legacy 6

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader but Natasha Romanoff x Reader centric for this chapter.

Summary: I have no words to summarize this one. I feel like this is a whole story on it’s own. Nat x Reader, with a few flashbacks.

Word Count: 4207

A/N: Please, let me know what you guys think. I poured my heart into this, Idk why I tend to do that whenever I write for Natasha. HAHA. Also, I deviated a little bit on the coma/death arc for the reader, sorry.

Previously: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

***

Natasha walks inside the gym a little later than she normally would and fully expecting her blonde girlfriend to be there since she didn’t wake up with her on the bed either. To her surprise, Carol’s not there too. She shrugged and went on her gym routine with a furrowed brow. The next day, without even meaning to, Nat woke up to Carol trying (unsuccessfully) to silently slip off Wanda’s embrace and off their massive bed. Nat gave her girlfriend a good fifteen minutes head start before tailing her.

Nat tried not to think ahead but Nat being Nat, she was still prepared for all possible outcomes but out of all the scenarios she thought Carol would drive to, she never - not even once - thought that she’s driving to SHIELD Headquarters. Nat’s eyebrows furrowed while waiting a few blocks away for Carol to be cleared to enter the premises. She knows for a fact that Carol’s not due for her weekly meeting with Fury because they all maintain a synchronized calendar to keep track of everyone’s schedule.

“What are you up to, Danvers?” she whispered to herself.

Nat sat on the parking lot for another ten minutes before following Carol inside. Nobody in their right mind would ever question why she was there even without an appointment. Natasha went through the command center to see if Deputy Director Hill is on her station but, she too wasn’t anywhere to be found.

What is going on? Where is everyone? She thought to herself while walking along a deserted hallway. When she rounded the corner, she roughly bumped into someone. The deep frown on her face was immediately erased when she saw who she bumped into.

“There you are!”

“You’re here too?”

They spoke at the same time. Nat chuckled for a second before registering what Maria had said. Before she can ask, Maria spoke first.

“Does the Earth mightiest heroes have nothing better to do on their free days than loiter around here?” Maria teased before pulling Nat for a quick hug.

“I don’t loiter -” Nat grumbled on her girlfriend’s shoulder. When they pulled apart, Maria’s sporting a teasing smile. Nat rolled her eyes playfully. “I am not loitering. I’m looking for Carol.”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Maria confirmed while tucking a stray red hair out of Nat’s face. Nat bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself from blushing at the softness her girlfriend’s showing.

”Didn’t she just met with Nick yesterday? What’s her business here today?”

At the mention of Fury’s name, Maria stiffened as she remembered that she’s already running late to her meeting with the man himself. She cursed under her breath, hurriedly plants a soft kiss on Nat’s cheeks before sidestepping the redhead and practically running out of there.

“Carol’s in the gym with Agent Stark,” Maria said loud enough for Nat to hear from the other end of the empty hallway before she disappeared.

Nat stood there frozen for a minute before she turned on her heels to see what you and Carol are up to. “Y/N Stark -” she whispered to herself as she walks towards the gym. Nat can’t deny the fact that her heart started beating wildly on her chest at the mere mention of your name.

It felt like an eternity has passed since Nat ever heard your name at all. So much has happened between then and now including your supposed death and the world literally ended, Nat didn’t really have time to dwell on all of her unanswered what-ifs. What if you didn’t die? Would she have had enough courage to feel she deserve you if you both were given more time?

***

Nat was enamored the moment she met you while she was undercover as Tony’s assistant. You were unlike no other she’s ever met before. A genius in your own merit was yet content to live peacefully behind your brother’s dark and long shadow. Funny without being obnoxious. She was sure she’s in love with you when you fought side by side while infiltrating Hammer Tech.

“I didn’t know you could fight, princess,” she teased while trying to catch her breath after taking down most of Hammer’s security.

You rolled your eyes at her, pretending to hate that stupid pet name. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Natasha Romanoff -” you fired back. Enunciating her name indicating that her cover was blown with you for a while now.

“Let’s change that after we’re through with this -”

A new batch of security emerges that forced you to go back to kicking ass. “Are you asking me out right now?” You punched one man on the throat, knocking him out effectively.

Nat’s chocking another on her side of the hallway. “No better time than the present, Stark. So what do you say?” She squeezes the guy a little harder, making him go slack on her arms. Nat was just catching her breath when another man appeared behind her. She almost doubled down when you threw a knife that you procured from your knee-high boots behind her.

“Nice -” she said a little breathless, partially from being tired and also a little turned on.

You walked up to her to give her a hand from the floor. She took the help gratefully. “Yes.”

Nat understood immediately. “Let’s wrap this up quickly then,” she said with a smirk.

***

A few days after sparring with Captain Danvers at SHIELD, you visited the compound one morning to make a quick delivery. The compound was eerily quiet for eight in the morning, making you wonder if you came in too early. Your wandering stopped when you heard the hopeless clanking of pans in the kitchen. You smiled, hoping that it is who you want to see that’s making all the noise. You leaned against the doorway, watching wild red hair rummaging through the cupboards.

“After all this time, you’re still hopeless in the kitchen,” you said to announce your presence.

Natasha stood abruptly, bumping her head on one of the open cabinets. She turned around with a frown while clutching the top of her head. “What the hell! You scared me!”

Her frown only deepened when you won’t stop laughing. It’s not that you didn’t want to stop, you just couldn’t. She looks so adorable with her scowl and wild bed hair bathed in the early morning sunlight streaming through the massive windows in the room. You walked towards her.

“I’m sorry but, this isn’t my fault -” you stopped two feet away from her. “ - no one’s supposed to sneak up on the Black Widow, right?” You teased while rubbing the top of her head.

“No Black Widow business until I have my second cup of coffee, you know the rules.”

Of course, you do. You can’t forget anything about Natasha even if you want to.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. You didn’t really mean to startle her - that badly.

Nat looked at you from under her lashes, and had your knees been human they would surely buckle under that look. “Kiss it better,” she demanded.

“What are you, five?” you teased to diffuse your nervousness but, Nat can see right through you.

“Coward.”

You huffed before pulling her towards you and kissed the spot where she hurt herself. “There! Happy now?”

Nat smiled. “I am now.”

***

Before you can say anything else, the rest of the inhabitants of the compound trudges in the kitchen including Maria, Carol, and Wanda.

“Hey.” Everyone greeted monotonously indicating that none of them are fully awake yet. You just smiled politely to everyone to give them time to fully shake the sleep off their systems.

Sam strode in last. He was sweaty and looking alert, probably from doing his morning jog. “Y/N!” he exclaimed when he noticed you. Everyone bristled at his volume, which probably won’t be acceptable regardless of the time of the day. “What brings you around? Not that we don’t want you here. Did you finally realize that you’d like to join our team now?”

“What?” Maria asked after registering Sam’s line of questioning.

“No offense -”

You decided to cut Sam off there. Any sentence that starts with no offense is often kind of offensive. “No, Sam, I’m not joining the Avengers.” Maria visibly relaxes at that while Sam deflated. “I just came here today to deliver you guys this -” You fished out an envelope from the inside pocket of your brown trench coat.

Nat who was still standing next to you reached out and took the envelope. “It’s an invitation,” she mused. Everyone’s looking at you expectantly.

“Yes. Pepper’s throwing me a homecoming party, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no,” you smiled. “Pun not intended.”

The kitchen erupted in excitement while freshly brewed coffee was being passed around. “This is so cool, it’s been so long since we had a Stark party,” Bruce commented, earning a soft elbow from Bucky and poorly concealed side-eyes from the girls. Bruce opened and closed his mouth, unable to form an apology.

“It’s okay Bruce but don’t expect it to be as grand as Tony’s parties,” you said smiling. “So?”

“Count as in!” Sam jumped at the opportunity to change the topic fast. Bucky sighed, resigning to his fate. “For you, I will be there, doll.”

“Thanks, Buck.”

While everyone was distracted about talks of the party and what to wear, you turned towards Natasha. “You’re coming too, right, Tasha?”

Nat smiled at the use of her nickname. You’re the only one who likes to call her that. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, princess.”

***

The party was in full swing when the Avengers arrived at the Tower. Aside from the team, Pepper invited a select few Stark Industries people, from investors as well as your old lab team. Nat didn’t expect anyone else aside from Maria to be invited. So she was surprised to see you standing amongst Agent Colson’s team. Nat’s sure that you saw them arrive but, you made no move to excuse yourself from listening to Agent Simmon’s surely interesting story.

Pepper did excuse herself and greeted the Avengers. “Hey!” She gave everyone a quick hug. “Traffic? Come on, let’s get you guys some refreshments.”

“Yes! Let’s get hammered!” Sam cheered too enthusiastically.

A couple of steps though, Pepper turned back to see the girls still rooted in their place at the doorway. “Coming, ladies?”

“Ah, I think we would say hello to Y/N first,” Maria and Carol answered at the same time without taking their eyes off of you.

Pepper followed their love-struck gaze and chuckled. She assumed it’s a pack thing, so she didn’t bother asking Nat and Wanda anymore and just followed the boys to the catering table. Nat watched Maria and Carol strode confidently towards you, and efficiently inserting themselves into the conversation. Nat watched her girlfriends, subtly inserting their bodies on both your sides, creating a barrier between you and Agent Johnson and Agent Simmons.

***

Natasha can deal with the fact that all her girlfriends have a crush on you. She doesn’t see herself having trouble sharing you with her pack if it came to that. It’s the others she’s worried about. You’re too bright that everyone’s gravitating towards you like moths to a fire, like Icarus to the sun. All night, Nat tried to get you alone but, every time she thinks she finally does, someone else would come over and make conversations with you.

Nat thinks you’re too polite to tell them off. So she excused herself when Agent Simmons came over to talk to you again (for the nth time that night). You smiled at her before turning back to Jenna. The bartender put four tequila shots in front of her the moment she sat on the bar. Bucky then turned to her.

“Thought you might need a stiff drink,” Bucky grumbled over the rim of his beer bottle. Nat downed one shot before glancing in your direction. Bucky didn’t miss how the redhead’s frown dipped a little deeper. “Didn’t think you’re one to walk away when vultures are trying to snatch your girl.”

Nat downed her second shot and slammed the glass down the counter. She’s not my girl, she thought bitterly. She knows full well that you’re not hers to hate Agent Johnson for simply wanting to be near you or for laughing at something you said and her hand landing casually on your biceps. You’re not hers for her to be jealous, she knows that painfully.

She couldn’t watch any longer. She downed the last two shots before turning towards Bucky. “I think I’ll get some fresh air,” she whispered, eyes downcast. “Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky only nodded before Nat hopped off her stool and walked out of the party venue. Nat didn’t turn back to see you watching her leave.

***

Nat snugged a bottle of expensive wine from a passing staff on her way to God knows where. All she knew was that she needed to step away to clear her head or drown her feelings and her regret.

You and Nat have been casually dating for a couple of months, even with your brother’s utter disapproval of the relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were standing against your brother on a matter but that was Nat you were talking about. You weren’t going to give her up without a fight. Eventually, Tony relented but without threatening Nat that if she ever breaks your heart, she’ll be the first person on his non-existent hit list.

Everything was fine. You both were happy until Nat suddenly decided she’s not ready. You didn’t know what happened. All you know was one day, she came back from a mission and decided she’s not ready to be tied down to one person.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’m not built for this -” she waved her hand. Indicating not only the domesticity of sharing the same living space but also everything that comes with it like building a home with another and shedding walls to letting people in. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t cry, and Nat knew you were letting her go gracefully. Even when she was breaking your heart, you were still thinking of her. “It’s okay, Tasha. I understand,” you said simply. You gave her a small smile before kissing her one last time.

Nat took a long swig of the wine before acknowledging your presence behind her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your party?” she spoke without taking her eyes off of the city skyline. The view from the rooftop of the tower was spectacular.

You chuckled nervously. Nat only goes to the rooftop when she needed to think and breathe. You wonder if you’ve done something through the night that might set her off. “I saw you leave the party, I was looking for you.”

“Why?” She took another long swig, making her head spin a little bit.

“Why not? I’ll always look for you when you’re gone.”

Nat suppressed the urged to groan, opting to chug the wine, but you were lightning fast. You caught her wrist before her lips could touch the bottle. You fished the wine out of her grasp. “What’s wrong, Tasha?”

“Nothing,” she answered automatically. Her eyes are darting back and forth from your eyes and your lips. There’s a sad, hungry look on her face you couldn’t understand. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just confront her about it when she’s not one shot away from being drunk.

“Okay, if you say so. Let’s go back inside, it’s cold out here.”

You started to walk back towards the only door to the rooftop when Nat tugged you back roughly to her. “Tasha!” you exclaimed in your surprise when she pinned you between her and the deck railing.

Nat held your eyes for a second before she laid her forehead on your shoulder. “Do you enjoy it? Having everyone wrapped around your fingers?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice. You wanted to question her about it. You want to understand what she’s talking about, but the words wouldn’t come. Especially, when you felt her turn her head slightly, and her left hand caressed your cheeks.

“I can’t get you alone all night,” she whispered as she noses her way from your jaw through your neck.

“Tasha -” God knows you tried not to make it sound like a moan, but it came out exactly like that.

The rest of the words died in your throat as you felt Nat plant the softest of kisses on your neck and her right hand found your leg through the long slit of your dress. Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold anymore. The fire that is Natasha Romanoff warmed you immensely, and you were ready to burn for her again, still.

“You were mine first,” you heard her whisper before she pulled her head away from your neck and smashed her lips against yours for a minute. Then she’s running away, again.

***

MH: Meet me at SHIELD.

WM: What’s wrong, Mar?

Nat frowned at the demanding chat from Maria. She waited patiently for an explanation; she tried not to jump to a conclusion. But at the back of her head, she prayed it’s not another alien threat. She can deal with Hydra, but she doesn’t think she has enough to give to fight and lose people to another Thanos level problem.

MH: Y/N’s down. Otw to the lab with Happy to get started with repairs.

Nat paled, and for a minute, she couldn’t move. Fear gripped her, the past flooding back to her.

She rushed into the hospital when she heard about the accident. Relief flooded her senses when she saw Tony and Pepper alert and awake on their hospital bed. Steve and Rhodey were already there. When the group noticed her, Tony immediately averted his eyes while Pepper started bawling.

“Is the baby okay?” Nat asked, worried that something happened to the baby.

Silence. Nat turned to Steve and Rhodey. Rhodey just frowned, lost for words too. Steve looked like he was trying to string a sentence in his head. “I’m sorry, Nat -”

Nat became even more confused. “For what?” she asked. “Guys, you’re scaring me.”

Tony took an audible, deep breath, catching Nat’s attention back to him. This time, he held her gaze. “Y/N’s home, Nat,” he said. “When we found out that Pepper’s pregnant, we told her, and she came home.”

Nat didn’t know that. No one told her that you’re home, which was understandable after she broke your heart. “Okay,” she nodded. Still, a tad confused as to where this conversation was going. “Do you need me to call her for you?”

“She’s gone, Nat -”

“Wha -”

“She’s dead.” Tony decided it’s better to rip off the bandage clean. Pepper started sobbing again. “She was with us tonight.”

Her phone vibrated on her hand again. She looked at the message from Wanda.

WM: Breath, Nat. She’s inhuman now.

And at that moment, Nat was so thankful that Wanda’s an empath. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and closed her eyes for a second to center herself. When she opened her forest-green eyes, she fired a quick text to the group chat before nearly running out of the compound.

NR: I’m on my way.

***

Nat was cursing in Russian under her breath as she power walk through the hallway of SHIELD towards the labs. She made a mistake of jumping on the first available vehicle in the compound’s parking lot, instead of using her MV Augusta F4 RR 312 motorcycle. It would have taken her to the HQ in no time.

She was rounding the last corner before she arrived at the lab when she bumped into Happy.

“Hey.” The man looked exhausted even though the machines in the lab did all the work, but Nat understood it completely. The idea that you got injured affects those who knew you before you were inhuman than those who knew you post-human. “I’m beat. I’m going to crash upstairs.”

Nat nodded with a smile before adding, “thank you, Happy.” She hopes the simple words convey how much she appreciates the man for taking care of you after all this time.

“Anything for Y/N,” Happy answered, smiling. He was almost on the other end of the hallway when he called for Nat again. Nat stopped in her tracks and look at him quizzically. “Be quiet when you get there.”

Then he disappeared. Nat just shrugged and continued to the lab. When she got inside, she floated to the room where she knows you would be and found you sandwiched between Carol and Maria.

“Shouldn’t you be the one sleeping?” she teased softly. You looked up when you heard her voice from the door and smiled.

“I would if I needed one, but I don’t. You, on other hand, look like you can use a nap too.” You tried to speak as softly as you could as not to disturb your sleeping friends(?), but they still manage to stir and look at Natasha. Together they patted the only space available in the bed for her.

Your lap. Nat quirked an eyebrow at the two before looking back at you. You smiled before raising your hand to beckon her to you. Nat decided to throw all her inhibitions to the window and gracefully climbed on the bed with you. It took a bit of squirming around to accommodate her on top of you, but you managed. Nat laid her head on where your heart should be.

Suddenly, Nat felt exhausted. Like all the stress and emotions - the confusion, the disbelief, the longing - she desperately tried to run away from ever since she found out that you’re alive caught up to her then. Her eyes started to close as you run your fingers through her soft red hair.

“I’m still yours,” you whispered, confident that Natasha has joined her softly snoring girlfriends in dreamland. It was quiet for a minute. The only sound in the room is the whirring of machines from the lab outside.

“I’m ready now,” Nat mumbled loud enough for you to hear before she completely went under.

190 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

hello! first i’d like to say i love your writing!! second i’d like to request a todoroki x reader fic where reader is fighting dabi during her work study and she’s alone for whatever reason, and 1-a is watching it on a news broadcast and she falls but she has like a carol danvers moment where she stands up after a while and beats his ass and they’re all cheering her on? bonus points for a water/tsunami type quirk kinda like katara?

a/n: hello! thank you so much love <3 !! this is such a cool idea, i love this so much, and captain marvel was a v good movie and i might just have to rewatch it lol. i too have an orange cat named goose which we conveniently adopted after seeing captain marvel for the first time. he’s a chonky boi.

summary: while attending your work-study, you get caught in the crossfire and end up fighting with dabi. todoroki and your classmates view the televised fight from the dorms as you take on the man by yourself.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / water manipulation - your quirk (think like percy jackson’s powers)

warnings: swearing, fluff, a bad fight scene and some blood, angst

word count: 1.4k

»»————-　★　————-««

To say this was unexpected was an understatement. You were just trying to do your work-study, and now you were caught up in a nasty fight.

What was even more unexpected, you were now up against Dabi, who had been making recent news.

You could hear the helicopter flying above as they broadcasted the whole thing across several news channels. You bit your lip in frustration as you stared back at the raven-haired man with an evil smirk on his lips.

“You shouldn’t go poking your nose in someone else’s business, kid.” He spat at you, cracking his knuckles.

“I do when you’re doing something illegal!” You yell back. Dabi laughs at your statement, taking a few more daunting steps toward you. were you ready to fight this guy?

Could you even land a punch on him? This was a fight you weren’t sure if you could win.

“I’m not usually this nice, but I’ll let you go if you go now. Otherwise, it’s going to get pretty nasty for you, dollface.” He stops walking toward you as he stares you down. You shake your head.

You weren’t backing down, you couldn’t. Being a hero meant defending those who can’t defend themselves. What kind of a hero would you be if you ran away with your tail between your legs, letting this guy go hurt dozens of others?

“I’m not leaving.” You protested, charging at him. He nodded and lit up a fist with his blue flames.

“Have your way then.” He commented, sending a fiery fist into your abdomen. You coughed as you felt the air leave your lungs as your back smashed into a brick wall.

You could feel warmth on the spot of the impact. Determining if it was blood seeping through an open wound or the heat from his flames was something you didn’t have time for.

Mustering all your strength, you placed your hand on the broken concrete, drawing out as much water that was trapped underground. Forming a large ball of the water in the air, you sent in flying at him.

It had enough force to knock him back a few feet, but not enough to cause any real damage.

“You’re pretty lucky, with a quirk like that you should be no match for me. But you’re weak, and it’s going to be the death of you.” He scolded, charging at you again, his azure flames trapping you between the wall and him.

You ducked through his legs as he flung a fist into the wall. You scurried behind him, standing to try and land a kick to his face.

His hand gripped your ankle mid-air, pulling you forward. You struggled to keep your balance as his hand heated up, blue flames escaping from around his grip, burning your leg.

You cried out in pain as he did so, raising your hand retrieving moisture in the air to spray it in his face.

He let your foot go and you stumbled back.

Todoroki watched in horror with the rest of the class. Why the hell were you alone? Where was the hero you were doing your work-study under?

“She’s gonna defeat him right?” Uraraka questioned. Todoroki gripped the ends of his sweater as he watched you.

You can do this. I believe in you.

“She’s gonna win! She can do this!” A few classmates yelled, cheering you on from the dorms.

You glared at Dabi, refusing to give up.

“It’s gonna take a little more than a splash to the face to take me down.” He mumbled, wiping his face off with his sleeve. You took the opening he’d left to try and attack him head-on, but it was a distraction. He moved his arm, swinging it down into your face.

You groaned as you fell back onto the ground.

Dabi hovered over you, his hand coming down to your face. You went to move, but he was one step ahead of you.

Placing a boot on your left arm, he gripped your hair hard, raising and then slamming your head into the concrete below.

Your vision went foggy and the figure standing over you multiplied.

“Don’t start fights you know you can’t win.” Dabi spat. That warm feeling erupted through your body again. Fire.

It was getting closer.

You could feel the flames as they floated against your skin. You could barely move. Your body was in pain, and your head hurt like hell. Was this what hangovers felt like? Forget about ever getting drunk.

You couldn’t give up now. This guy was going to kill innocent people. Why had he spared you? Does he think your dead? Surely he’s smarter than that.

Todoroki’s eyes widened as he stared at your limp body, everyone else watching in silence as a few sniffles filled the air.

“Get up.” Todoroki spoke quietly.

“Please get up.” Todoroki was on the verge of tears. He wasn’t a crier, but he couldn’t lose you.

As the blue flames taunted your vision, you could feel your senses slowly come back. The ability to move a finger or two came back just as the feeling of something tickling your nose. A nosebleed?

“It’s a shame you had to die like this.” Dabi spoke, kicking over an unstable iron beam, watching as broken bits of concrete fell over you.

You held your breath instinctively, calling for any water underground to come and protect you.

Mina cried out as she grabbed onto Tsu and Toru. The girls wept as they watched the screen, not wanting to believe what they’d just seen.

No.

Todoroki thought. He stood up from his sitting position, a few eyes drifting away from the screen to him.

He waited for you to move. He needed you to move. You couldn’t die. He couldn’t lose you.

With each minute, it felt like an eternity. But the rumbling of concrete startled Dabi.

A fist broke through the concrete as water began sprouting through the large broken bits, like a geyser. The concrete was pushed away as you stood up, the large stream of water dying down.

Dabi’s eyes widened as he stood amazed by the sight. He could see a shadow emerging from the water, and he readied himself.

You bent the water, forcing a heavy stream to spray at Dabi. He groaned as it hit him, unable to dodge it as you continuously targeted him.

Leaving the water be, you charged at him yourself, landing a strong punch to his jaw.

“I know I can win this!” You yelled, dodging his next attacks, guiding the water to put out any fire that he tried to use against you.

“Just die already!” He groaned, swinging his arm at you. You caught it, much like he had done with your leg, and pulled his arm back, leaping over his shoulder. His arm made a nasty cracking sound. You’d broke it.

He hissed in pain as he raised a hand, guiding flames toward you. You smirked and raised more water, pushing against his fire.

As his flames disappeared, the gap between you that he had tried to create shrunk.

Todoroki and the others were cheering you on as you fought, thankful to see you alive.

“It’s over Dabi!” You screamed as you landed a blow to his head, knocking him out. You panted as the water died out, collapsing beside him.

You stared up at the sky as a few raindrops fell from the clouds up above.

The rain soaked into your skin, each drop feeling like a kiss from heaven. Your body healed ever so slightly, smaller wounds closing as the rain evaporated into your skin.

The sounds of sirens and yelling voices came to your aid as they dragged you to a hospital.

- - -

Awaking the next day, the entirety of class 1-A was standing around your hospital bed. You were feeling great, a little headache and some scars to tell your friends about later.

Todoroki was the first to see you. He cut everyone off in placing his lips to yours, kissing you. A few wild ooh’s and ah’s were heard as he pulled away, red tinting both yours and his cheeks.

“Glad to see you’re okay.” He smiled, a rare sight, but one that made your heart melt.

“We’re so happy to see you.” Mina smiled, hugging you as soon as Todoroki stepped to the side.

After everyone had said a few things, they all shuffled out of the room, leaving you and Todoroki alone.

“You really scared me.” Todoroki sat by your bed, resting his arms on the hospital bed.

“I’m sorry. But I did kick that guy's ass.” You smiled, ruffling his hair.

“That you did.” He commented, placing a kiss on the back of your hand as it fell from his hair.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

592 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Did I mention already that I love this book? I love this book -Danny

Words: 6,084

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Happy’ -by Julia Michaels

Chapter Eleven: A Faulty Match.

"No way I'll be a teacher," Mel said anxiously. "I'm barely able to speak to more than five people at once!"

"You know that's not true, you're popular now!"

It had been two weeks after their talk in the common room and Hermione was ready to have a go at it for a second time. What was more surprising was the fact that Harry wasn't against it now. He'd finally come around and was behaving properly during Umbridge's lessons, which meant she was finally free to wander around school with her new friends without worrying all the time about what he was doing.

"Yeah, I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by us. We're nutters, remember?" Harry added.

"Speak for yourself," Mel protested.

Her time with Ginny and the twins was surprisingly effective when it came to building relationships with the rest of the houses, she knew a bunch of new people now, people that didn't think she was dramatic or impulsive. It was a nice change.

"Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," said Hermione. "Look, you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"

"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.

"Because I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

"So?" Ron looked at both of them with an eager expression. "You'll do it?"

Harry and Mel glanced at each other.

Were they ready for the teamwork that implied? Even if they hadn't argued for almost half a month, it still felt like too much, it was a very thin line they'd been walking those days trying not to push any buttons, but they were bound to falter, they just didn't how or when.

"I'll think about it," She sentenced. "I have tons to do... I mean, I can't teach a bunch of kids how to defend themselves if it's not my priority, I wanna make sure I don't mess up things."

"That's fine," Hermione smiled down at her paper as if Mel had agreed just then.

"So what d'you think?"

"Well, Hermione's idea isn't bad," Ginny shrugged. "You've gone through a lot, and you definitely know more than most, Mel."

"I don't know," She groaned. "I don't know if I want to spend that much time with..."

Ginny eyed her curiously.

"You and Harry are still fighting?"

"Have we ever not?" Mel smiled tiredly.

"Last year when you were all lovey in public..." Ginny replied. "I really thought you two were dating back then. Which is the reason why I gave Michael a chance."

"Hey!"

'Talking of the devil,' Mel thought, watching as Michael and his friends approached them.

"Hi," Ginny smiled at him. "What's up?"

Michal waved at Mel, the boys also greeted her, though they looked as if she were a unicorn.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Michael asked.

"Sure... er- I'll be right back, Mel."

"No worries..."

Mel watched her go with Michael, Anthony Goldstein was trying to tell her something but she wasn't listening, she was just nodding along, laughing when he did.

Only then she realized how lonely she was feeling. She'd been feeling lonely for months, but now she knew exactly what kind of company she was looking for. She wanted to date someone, to feel the same way she'd felt before, a part of her even wanted to try with a total stranger, a stranger meant she wouldn't get hurt.

Mel continued to nod and listen without paying attention as she busied herself, cleaning her bag while Anthony kept talking. A piece of parchment fell from a book and Mel picked it up, skimming through it. It was one of her mother's letters, but it looked old.

'..you should never base your actions on what other people expect you to do, Mel. Not even if that person is one of your closest friends. How do you expect to become your own whole witch if you keep following other people's tails?'

It was the letter the woman had sent her when Ron, Harry and her crashed the Ford Anglia, and she'd been right about everything, Mel needed to stop basing her actions on what others wanted.

What did she want, apart from dating someone of course...

A second piece of parchment fell to her lap and she looked down at it. It was the list she'd done during her second year:

1-I have to control my temper.

2-I have to focus in class.

3-I must listen to my family.

4-I must forget about my feelings for Harry.

Mel stared at it and something in her head clicked. She'd had her answer for years, only that she hadn't been brave enough to accept it.

Ginny came back with an easy-going smile on her face, Mel did her best to match it. The boys said goodbye and left.

"So?" Mel asked. "Do I sense a date?"

"Maybe," Ginny smiled. "I like him, but he can be a bit annoying."

"Aren't all boys like that?" Mel joked.

"Not all of them," Ginny gave her a look.

"I know who you're talking about when you say that," Mel looked away, the piece of parchment hidden inside her fist. "I assure you he's the same."

"He's not that boring, is he?"

"Listen, if you don't want to date Michael I'm sure he'll understand. You're more than welcome to try with Harry and see for yourself if that's what you want..." Cho walked past just then, surrounded by her usual jolly group of girlfriends. "...But something tells me he's busy at the moment."

Ginny looked at the Ravenclaw and let out a heavy sigh.

"So it's true then, he likes Cho?"

"Seems like it," She grabbed her mum's letter and her list and put it inside her bag. "Cho's been acting odd, looking for Harry during every free hour– Alone."

"Hmm," Ginny nodded in understanding. "I hope it works, would hate to see either of them suffer any more..."

Mel felt a sting of guilt at Ginny's comment. Of course she wanted Cho to recover, and of course she wanted Harry to be happy... but did they really have to be together for that? Couldn't they just do it on their own?

'You're one to talk, wishing you could snog your tension out with a stranger...' A voice in her head replied.

"Uh," Mel cleared her throat, embarrassed by her selfish ideas. "Yeah, you're right."

"Talking about people getting together," Ginny's eyes shifted into a more playful gaze. "You've been spending a lot of time with my brothers, haven't you?"

"The twins?" Mel laughed. "We're friends!"

"Are you sure?"

"Don't start..."

"Come on! I know you think they're attractive, you told me once!"

"I was twelve!" Mel chortled.

"Okay then, if you think it's so weird I won't tell you which one I overheard saying he thinks you're a looker now," Ginny crossed her arms and sat back casually, a knowing smirk on her face.

"What?! Don't you dare!"

"I don't tell you which one, you'll think about it!"

"Ginny!" Mel whined anxiously. "I don't want to hurt their feelings!"

"Wouldn't it be cool if you were part of the family for real?" She insisted. "My brothers are not that bad..."

"No," Mel sank further in her place. "They're bloody lovely. That's why I won't forgive myself if I hurt them."

"You're Mellow, you can't hurt anyone," Ginny snickered. "Just think about it..."

It was really sweet of Ginny to put a good word in for her brothers, but she didn't think it was the best idea. However, her old list was clear, she had to move on from Harry. If there was a chance that she could forget about him while still having fun with someone she trusted, well, maybe she could make it work.

"Mel, is it true that you're organizing a D.A.D.A class?"

"Well–"

"I heard you're organizing a meeting, can I go?"

"I mean–"

"Are you actually teaching us the same things Dumbledore's teaching you? Are you allowed?"

"Guys!" Ginny spoke up. "You got it all wrong! Granger and my brother are the ones organizing the whole thing, Mel doesn't know anything... but she's going to be there if that's enough for you?"

A new stream of questions hit her and Mel laughed. With each passing day, she found the attention less and less annoying, she wasn't as anxious as before, and could even spend more time around Harry without snapping at him.

She raised her hands to quiet everyone down and they obeyed, Mel was starting to love this kind of control too.

"Ginny's right, guys. If you're going to ask 'Mione, please be careful? We don't want the toad hearing our business, do we? I don't want to get my friends in trouble."

She left feeling pleased and energized. The group scattered and she looked back at Ginny with a smile.

"Not bad was it? You're improving..."

"I owe it to you," Mel winked. "I'm hungry, you coming?"

"I'm sitting with Michael," Her friend's smile widened.

"I'll leave you to it then... see you!"

As she walked through, several people asked her to join them; she said no, though. She was still a bit uneasy about spending too much time with strangers, it was draining.

When Mel spotted Hermione she made a beeline to sit with her, the group of friends was already in the middle of a conversation. It was normal now, arriving in the middle of something, not really knowing what was going on with them, but she concluded that her new popularity was definitely worth it.

"Well, you can't blame him for wanting to get out and about," She heard Ron say. "I mean, he's been on the run for over two years, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh, but at least he was free, wasn't he? And now he's just shut up all the time with that lunatic elf and Mel's mum."

"You say that like my mum's on the same level as Kreacher," Mel raised a brow.

"The trouble is," Hermione insisted, "until V-Voldemort — oh for heaven's sake, Ron — comes out into the open, Sirius is going to have to stay hidden, isn't he? I mean, the stupid Ministry isn't going to realize Sirius is innocent until they accept that Dumbledore's been telling the truth about him all along. And once the fools start catching real Death Eaters again it'll be obvious Sirius isn't one... I mean, he hasn't got the Mark, for one thing."

"I don't reckon he'd be stupid enough to turn up. Dumbledore'd go mad if he did and Sirius listens to Dumbledore even if he doesn't like what he hears."

"Don't we all?" Mel sighed.

An owl landed in front of her with the usual letter from her mother. It contained very vague things and coded names so Mel knew how everything was going. That morning the letter was surprisingly short, but she kept reading between the lines hoping to see something, anything.

"Still nothing..." She said grumpily.

"What d'you mean?"

"My mum! Been waiting for them to confirm they're together but they won't budge..."

"How're you so sure it'll happen?"

"Didn't I tell you? My mum talked to me the day we left the station, she was more than ready to give Snuffles a chance..."

"Blimey!" Ron's eyes widened. "Congrats to them, I s'posse..."

"I'm happy for them," Mel agreed, handing the letter to them so they could read it. "They've been alone for ages... I'm glad they've got each other now. Don't you agree, Harry?"

He didn't reply.

"Harry?"

The boy was looking at the letter as if it had one of Skeeter's articles on it. Mel called a third time and he looked up, but there was nothing close to real joy there. He smiled tightly and nodded once.

"Yeah, sounds great."

Mel frowned a bit, her smiled faltering.

"Is something bothering you?"

"Not at all," Harry avoided her gaze at all cost.

Hermione tried to lighten the mood.

"Listen, Ron and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade."

"Right," said Harry quietly.

"Don't worry. You've got enough on your plate without Sirius too. You read that note they sent to Mel, I bet they must be quite happy."

"They surely are," Mel carefully folded the paper so she could show it to Erick later. "Talking about Hogsmeade– a bunch of kids have been attacking me with questions and I told them to ask you, hope you don't mind..."

"It's fine," Hermione smiled. "I'm happy you're friends with students from different houses– the more we can have in our side the better, right?"

"I think so," Mel was too excited to sit still. "I'm sort of looking forward to it now? They're nicer to me–"

"I wonder why," Ron snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh c'mon Mel," He laughed stupidly. "Half of the boys follow you around hoping you'll let them take you on a date... not that you're not nice and all! Don't hit me for being honest..."

Mel didn't try to refute his comment, far from it, this pleased her.

"I'm not going to hit you, Ron. I hope this works as a lesson to you, it is possible to be friends with other houses even if you don't agree in everything," She said happily.

"Sure is, if you're pretty," He replied.

Harry hid his face further, a clear redness on his cheeks. She fixed her posture and ate in content silence for the rest of the hour.

"Hey, Mel! Mel!" Fred ran up to her in the middle of the hall.

"What's up?"

"Is it true that you'll be having a meeting during our next Hogsmeade visit?"

"'Mione's the one organizing the whole thing–"

"That's all right," He pushed the comment aside. "I was wondering if you'd like to join us before the meeting. We'll go to Zonko's, buy a few things for our products... what do you say?"

"Sure," She exclaimed cheerily. "Should I wait for you at the entrance?"

"We can wait for you in the common room, don't worry," He smiled.

There was no double meaning to that smile, he was simply being him. But even knowing that, she still wanted to find out if she was right about him being the brother Ginny was trying to convince her to date.

Mel knew very well she was playing with fire, hadn't she learned anything? What about her dreadful experience with Harry? Dating friends was a mistake!

She was so lonely though... for some reason, she kept thinking about her talk with Sirius. Could it be true? Merlin, she was hoping it was.

She wasn't stupid, she could tell that some of her new friends were being too nice to her, but Mel kept her distance, she'd promised not to flirt around just to get what she wanted, and she was keeping her promise. Besides, she was also following the list she'd found in her bag days prior, and it was working.

Harry was making things harder if she was honest, with his puppy eyes and his soft hair... It was obvious that he was miserable– He was traumatized! He just didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to ask for help. Harry still flinched with loud noises, it was pure torture, seeing him in distress and not being able to help.

It was so strange, a few months ago she would've run through the castle to save him from a bug bite, now she would listen to his complaints and his yelling and immediately turn her back. She was sick of feeling.

Part of her kept thinking of the way Harry had broken her heart, but that wasn't it now, it was something else that she couldn't quite understand. Resentment... but towards what?

Was she mad about him being scared? Did she hate the fact that he wanted to protect her?

Did she hate that he didn't trust her to be strong enough? After all those years, and he still thought that she needed to be saved... As if she were nothing but a helpless sidekick.

'I'm not just a pretty face,' she thought bitterly.

No.

She was a pretty face, and she was popular because of that. But she was also a skilled witch and a great friend. She was the reason why Harry Potter was still alive.

It was time to be more than just a boy's best friend. She was ready to step into the spotlight, it didn't matter if she had to leave Harry behind.

She was walking alongside the twins and Lee Jordan, carrying a few bags of Zonko's and chatting cheerfully when someone called her name. Ginny appeared, followed by some Ravenclaws (including Ginny's boyfriend).

Mel was telling stories about her childhood, the group was laughing a lot. Life had improved, she'd taken Erick's advice and she was finally feeling like she belonged.

"This is it, right?" Terry Boot asked her.

Mel looked up at the sign and frowned.

"Here?"

"Hermione said this would be discrete," Ginny shrugged.

"A bunch of teenagers entering the sketchy bar?" Mel snorted. "Not suspicious at all..."

"Wait for us!"

Mel turned around and saw a bunch of students coming their way, her stomach did an odd flip: At least twenty or thirty people had come to the meeting.

"This isn't subtle at all," She said anxiously. "People will notice, they'll follow us in!"

"Er..." Ginny was looking at the bunch reluctantly, but Michael grabbed her hand and dragged her inside the pub at once.

Fred and George did the same with her and soon the group of students entered together. She was already breaking down, but what made her really want to retreat and forget she was ever there was the sight of a tall old man gazing at the bunch with a slightly startled expression.

It was her grandfather.

She tried to leave but Fred put an arm around her shoulders and walked up to the barman.

"Hi," He smiled. "Could we have... twenty-six butterbeers, please?"

Aberforth Dumbledore stared at her and then at the group, he threw aside the rag he'd been holding and then started passing up dusty butterbeer pretending he didn't recognize her. Or perhaps he really did not know who she was, they'd never seen each other in person.

Was she supposed to say something? Maybe 'Hey, you don't know me but your son was my dad! I know you want nothing to do with me, but maybe don't tell my uncle what we're doing? Thanks, Grandad!'

"Cheers!" Fred handed out the butterbeers to the rest. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these..."

They handed the money to her and Fred, she pushed it roughly on the counter mumbling a 'Thanks' without making eye contact. Mel spotted Harry, Hermione and Ron at the very back and walked up to them, ready to kill Hermione.

"What were you thinking?" She hissed. "This looks suspicious in so many ways!"

"We'll be fine, here is less likely we get unwanted attention–"

"Oh, really?" Mel propped one hand on the table and whispered in a furious voice, "D'you know who the barman is?"

"Well, he's always been the barman here for all I know, so–"

"He's my grandad!"

The girl's eyes widened almost comically, Mel sat down next to Ron, her good mood vanishing completely.

"What have you been telling people? What are they expecting?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say. You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first," Hermione replied, a bit anxious now that she knew her mistake.

"Well that isn't soothing either," Mel grumbled, giving a large sip to her butterbeer.

"Hi, guys," Neville waved at them, one by one the students sat down around the table and waited patiently for them to speak.

"Er," said Hermione. "Well — er — hi."

Mel snorted and Ron kicked her leg under the table.

"Well... erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea — I mean I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us — because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein.

"Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.

"Of course I do, but I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because... because... Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The group let out their shock in different levels of surprise, some didn't look faced, merely annoyed at the mention, but once they were done they all focused on Harry and her.

"Well... that's the plan anyway," Hermione continued. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said a Hufflepuff student.

Mel tilted her head, half amusement and half exasperation.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.

"You mean, the Dumbledores believe him," He nodded shortly at the boy. "Everyone knows Mel's crazy about Harry, and Dumbledore–"

"Who are you?" Ron interrupted with a tone of warning.

"Zacharias Smith– and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Oh, you think you've got the right?" Mel leaned forward but Ron pulled her back.

"Look," said Hermione. "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said lowly, then he directed his attention to the boy. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me or Mel, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Mel tried hard not to look in the direction of her grandad, she had to at least pretend she didn't know him so she could deny the encounter in case Dumbledore found out, but she could see him clearly paying attention to their meeting.

"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you. I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."

She had to admit that Harry was doing a great job, this time she thought it was appropriate to be a bit rough with his answers, after all, this guy didn't have any right to demand stuff. She wondered if someone had approached Harry this way during the weeks she'd spent away from the group. How weird it was, being so foreign to Harry's experiences.

"So... so... like I was saying... if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —" Hermione got interrupted again.

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" Susan Bones asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, then added hurriedly as if that way he wouldn't get all the stares. "Mel too."

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked.

Mel rolled her eyes, of course Harry didn't know his own classmates by name.

"She's my auntie," Susan said happily. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"What about you, Mel?" Terry inquired.

"Mine's a phoenix," She said shortly.

The barman stopped cleaning at that.

"Blimey, guys!" said Lee. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, causing a few to laugh.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot asked eagerly. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," Harry glanced at her, but Mel wasn't going to speak. All those questions were directed to him only.

"And in our first year," said Neville, sounding like he couldn't quite believe it yet, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone —"

"Sorcerer's," Hermione corrected.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who, and Mel," Neville laughed timidly. "Mel threw Professor Quirrell to the other end of the room without a wand."

"How d'you know–?" Mel started, but Cho interrupted.

"And that's not to mention all the tasks Harry had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things..."

Mel looked at the way Cho was smiling and the eager look on the boy's eyes. The girl tried –and failed– to ignore the fact that she could recognize it like the one he'd given her a year prior after almost kissing him.

"Look– I... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but... I had a lot of help with all that stuff..."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying..."

"Yeah, well —" said Harry, brushing it away like a very annoying fly.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan.

"No... no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias.

"Here's an idea," said Ron, this time it was him the one who leaned further, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Zacharias said, but his voice came out a bit quieter.

"That's not what he said," Fred frowned.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George pulled a long and weird looking metal thingy from one of his bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"Knock it off," Mel stopped them. "We're not here to fight."

The boys gave her a grumpy look but put the instruments away.

"Yes, well," Hermione cleared her throat, "moving on... the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry and Mel?" There was a buzz of agreement to which Hermione nodded once. "Right. Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week —"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," added Zacharias.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone, but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"

"Well said! Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!" Ernie exclaimed eagerly. "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells —"

"Is not that she's useless," Mel spoke. "She knows Dark Magic well enough to defend herself against it, I'm sure of it. She just doesn't want us to know because she thinks we're planning on murdering the Minister." Some laughed, others stared at her in shock.

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, nodding at Mel's words. "is that she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

"Well, that makes sense," Luna mentioned. "After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" said Harry.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths."

"No, he hasn't," Hermione retorted.

"Yes, he has."

"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville.

"They're spirits of fire. Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione.

"Oh yes, they do!"

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?"

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"

"Thank you, Luna," Mel said. "I think we should go back to the important subjects of this meeting."

"Hem, hem," Ginny cleared her throat like Umbridge with a horrifying accuracy. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes. Yes, we were, you're right..." Hermione sighed.

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as —" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch. Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet..."

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry, then added in a low voice so only Mel could hear. "But it sure is a good place for secret meetings..."

She knew he was talking about Erick, but her mind went to the afternoons spent there with Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah, McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practising for the Triwizard..." Ron mentioned.

"McGonagall asked us to keep a low profile," Mel raised a brow. "What part of 'secret study group against Umbridge' sounds innocent to you?"

"The study part," Her friend replied with a smirk.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," Hermione shrugged. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting." She then searched in her bag and pulled parchment and a quill. "I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."

"'Mione–" Mel started, but Fred took the parchment and signed, then winked at her. George followed suit. "All right then..."

"Er..." Zacharias looked at the paper reluctantly. "Well... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

"I — well, we are prefects," Ernie let out anxiously. "And if this list was found... well, I mean to say... you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out..."

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"I — yes," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that it's just..."

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione.

"No. No, of course not... I — yes, of course, I'll sign."

The parchment moved around until it came back to Zacharias.

"What's the matter, Smith?" Mel smirked. "You're not trying to weasel out, are you?"

He looked at her with indignation, let out a scoff and took the parchment, signing down his name.

"Well, time's ticking on," Fred stood up. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later. Coming, Lady?"

"Er..." Mel looked around and found Cho staring eagerly at Harry. She shook her head. "No, I think I'll spend the rest of the day with 'Mione and the boys, thanks."

"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione once they walked out of the Hog's Head. Mel had glanced back at the old man once before leaving, unable to say a thing.

"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," grumbled Ron.

"Sure is," Mel scowled. "What an idiot, thinking we owe him an explanation..."

"I don't like him much either," Hermione nodded, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really — I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if his friends weren't all crazy about Mel and he hadn't been going out with Ginny —"

Mel let out a short squeak and Ron choked on the last bit of butterbeer he'd been drinking.

"He's WHAT?" Ron yelled. "She's going out with — my sister's going — what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"

"Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think —" Hermione shrugged. "Well, they're obviously interested in learning defence, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on, and his friends weren't trying to win Mel over —"

"That's ridiculous!" Mel blushed madly. "I– They–"

"When did this — when did she — ?" Ron stuttered as well.

"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," said Hermione, guiding them to the entrance of a shop. "Hmm... I could do with a new quill."

"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded.

"The dark one," said Hermione.

"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.

Mel came out of her trance, giving Ron an amused look.

"You've never spoken to him!"

"Big surprise," Hermione whispered.

"But– I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"

Hermione looked at Mel for a moment before responding.

"Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago... when we thought... well... Not that she doesn't like you, of course," Hermione added towards Harry.

Harry merely shrugged, his eyes wondering outside the window, probably looking for a certain raven-haired girl.

"So that's why she talks now? She never used to talk in front of me..."

"Exactly," Hermione glanced at Mel once more. "Yeah, she's not as nervous as before... I think she really is over it... Yes, I think I'll have this one..."

Mel felt a bit jealous of Ginny, she was capable of moving on just like that and find a good boy. Not that she didn't deserve it, Ginny was awfully pretty and she was fun to hang out with, she deserved to date and have fun! She wanted to have that, but if it meant she had to date someone as silly as Anthony Goldstein, she wasn't sure she'd be moving on any time soon.

Her mind wondered once again to Harry, she wanted to know what his opinion was on this whole thing because he was being really confusing. On a good day, she could still see a type of softness on his gaze when talking to her, but more often than not he would be grumpy and serious, not even trying to be nice. She just wanted to know what he was thinking, was that really so hard?

"Ron," Hermione's voice escalated. "This is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeing Michael, she knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp on about it, for heaven's sake."

"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm not going to harp on about anything..."

But he remained pouty and serious for the rest of the day.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @sarcasticallywitty15

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

22 notes · View notes

justmeandmyinnermostthoughts · 5 years

Text

The Wick Family Part 2: Warning

A/N: Here’s part 2! I don’t know how many parts there will be but there’s going to be several.

Also, I did my best to describe the Judo moves. I practice Judo myself and have done the moves I described. I’ve had the triangle head lock done to me by my instructor and it doesn’t really work on me (probably cause I’m small and the instructors are big guys). So I have personal experience escaping that hold and throwing much larger opponents. I based the practice off of personal experience, so please no hate. And here’s a link to a good video that shows the move I talked about: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2d4vWuDfG-M in case you’re curious to see what it looks like.

I guess I need to add warnings? But there isn’t really anything to warn you guys about. Just more of John being a cool dad and Winston makes a small cameo. Bit of trouble at the end.

Let me know what you guys think! And if you want to be added to the tag list, all you have to do is ask! (The gif is not mine, I pulled it from the search engine)

Part 1 ~ Part 2 (You are here) ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

~ ~ ~

“Alright kiddo, you ready?”

Celestial sets her feet and settles into her guard position, feet shoulder width apart, one a bit in front of the other, and her hands up in front of her chest, left arm out, right arm closer in. She’s relaxed, not tense, as she lets out a breath and nods. “Yep.”

John nods, his stance mimicking her’s. He quickly reaches his left arm out with the intent to grab the collar of her gi but Celestial clamps down on his arm with both hands and pivots in on her left foot, squaring her center of gravity under his and pulling him off balance via his arm over her left shoulder. She continues to pull, shifting her weight so that John’s feet leave the ground and he’s flipped over her back, landing on the mat in front of her. Still holding his arm, Celestial tries to drop down and set him in an arm lock with her legs across his shoulders and his wrist pulled up towards her left shoulder. But before she can get set, John bridges, arching up onto his heels and shoulders and rolls onto his left side, pulling his arm out of her grip. He shifts, getting his right arm under her head. With his left hand he pushes her left arm to the side, trapping it between her neck and the side of his head. He locks his right hand in the crook of his left elbow and places his left hand behind the back of his head, completing the triangle with his arms. Celestial grabs a fistful of John’s gi with her right hand and reaches as far across his back as she can, grabbing onto his gi with her left hand as well. As John shifts his legs to complete the lock, Celestial bridges, getting her hip and right side underneath him and begins to pull him to the left. She manages to flip John over her and onto his back, using her small size to slip out of the head lock. John lets out a loud breath as his back hits the floor and finds his right shoulder and arm pressed into the side his throat as Celestial shoves his arm over and slides her right arm under his neck. She’s quick to swing her legs off to the side and set them as she grabs a fistfull of her own gi with her right hand and the collar of John’s gi with her left. She begins to pull on his gi as she applies pressure on his arm and neck, putting her body weight behind it, cutting off John’s breath and the arteries that supply blood to his brain. The speed at which Celestial completed the triangle head lock has John quickly tapping the floor as his vision turns red.

The pressure releases at John double tapping the floor as Celestial releases him and rolls away. She sits up on her knees and toes, hands on her thighs as she watches John sit up.

He rubs his neck as he turns to look at her. “You’re getting good at that one.” His voice sounding a bit rough. He coughs to clear his throat and sits across from her, one arm resting on his knee.

Celestial looks a little concerned. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I? You did hit the mat hard when I flipped you. And I know you said to press hard on the headlock but-”

John holds up a hand, cutting her off, and shakes his head. A small smile pulling at the corner of his lips at her concern. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. And you did really well. You didn’t hesitate this time, which is good. But, since you’re concerned, why don’t you tell me the difference between sparing with me and when you’re sparing at the dojo.”

Celestial shifts her legs so she’s sitting criss-cross and sits up straight. “When at the dojo, you bow to your partner before you start and after you finish. And whenever you perform a throw or otherwise cause your partner to fall, you’re supposed to support them by pulling upwards on their arm and keep them from landing too hard on the mat. But with you I don’t need to do that.”

John nods, “And why is that?”

Celestial shrugs. “I don’t know. ‘Cause you’re a superhero?”

John laughs, loud and happy, without restraint. A wide smile lighting up his face and his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m a superhero now, am I?”

Celestial grins back at him. “Yea! But not a lame one like Batman. You’re a cool superhero like Hawkeye or Deadpool or Antman! Or… or like Mr. Incredible! He’s a cool superhero and a cool dad!” She laughs, jumping up to her feet.

John shakes his head, still smiling, and stands up. “Why don’t you like Batman?”

She shrugs, “He’s too edgy and he tries too hard.”

He chuckles, “You’re the expert. We’re done for today. Why don’t you go put your gi up and then we’ll go out for lunch. Maybe stop by that comic book store you’ve been wanting to go to? Sound good?”

“Really? Awesome!” She throws her arms around his waist and hugs him tight. “Thanks, daddy.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Smiling, he pats her back. “Go on. Get changed. You can tell me more about those superheroes of yours on the way.”

“Okay!” She runs out of the room, grinning.

“Don’t forget to hang your gi up!” John shouts after her before untying the cloth belt and taking the gi jacket off, revealing his, now wrinkled, white shirt. He drapes it over arm as he leaves the room, turning the lights off in the training room and shutting the door behind him. He makes his way through the house and to his room. He shuts the door quietly and sets the white gi jacket and black cloth belt down on his bed. The sunlight streaming in through the curtains lighting up the room as it reflects off the white bedspread and carpet. John stands there for a moment in his bare feet, well worn white gi pants and his classic white t-shirt, just listening to the quiet of the house. He lets out a breath before reaching up and pulling his hair out of the already loose bun he had it tied back in, letting it fall around onto his shoulders and around his face. It’s getting a bit long, “Should probably get a haircut soon.” He mumbles quietly to himself as he moves to his dresser. But Celestial likes to braid it so he probably won't. A soft smile lifts his lips as he picks up a picture of Helen holding a giggling three year old Celestial. “You should see her, Helen. She’s getting so big. She looks more like you every day. You’d be proud.” He keeps his voice low and quiet as studies Helen’s smiling face. He brings the photo to his face and presses his lips to the frame. He sets the photo down and grabs a new shirt from the dresser. He begins to move around the room, changing into a pair of dark wash jeans and, another, white t-shirt. He smirks. He can hear Celestial teasing him about his ‘boring color scheme’ already. He puts on his shoes before combing his fingers through his hair and tying it back into a low tail.

John leaves his room and makes his way downstairs. The dog trundles up to him, his tail wagging, and John bends down to pet him. “Want to go with us today, bud?” John asks as he scratches the dog behind the ears.

John’s cell phone begins to ring on the stand behind him and he looks over his shoulder at it before standing and picking it up. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at the number on the screen. The phone rings once more before John answers the call, raising the phone to his ear.

“Johnathan?” A familiar voice speaks on the other end of the line.

“Winston.” John’s voice is low and gruff when he answers.

“It has accidentally come to my attention that you may be hosting some uninvited guest shortly. I might suggest taking your daughter on a trip for the weekend.”

As if summoned, the young girl comes bounding down the stairs dressed in jeans and a colorful t-shirt, a backpack slung over one shoulder. She uses the end of the handrail to spin herself around the corner. “Okay dad! I’m ready to…. go?” She stops in her tracks as she sees the frightening look on her father’s face. “Dad?”

John holds up a finger towards her, telling her to wait a moment, and turns his head to the side. “I think we’ll do that. Thank you, Winston.” He hangs up the phone and turns to the girl. “Go pack a bag Celestial. We’re going out of town.” He begins to turn away.

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me, Celestial!” He snaps as he turns back to her. The sudden intensity directed at her makes the girl flinch and take a step back. “Go pack a bag, and be quick about it.” John says, lowering his voice.

“Okay. For how long?” His daughter asks as she starts back up the stairs.

“A week or two. Be quick.” He turns to the dog, picking up the leash from the stand and hooking it to the collar. He takes a few quick steps to the hall closet and yanks the door open, grabbing the duffle bag tucked into the back. He steps back up to the stand by the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet out of the bowel. “Come on Celestial. Let’s go.” He shouts, his voice echoing through the house. He hears a faint creak behind him and begins to turn. Something heavy connects with the back of his head and John’s vision goes black.

~ ~ ~

Tag list:

@fanficsrusz @mikaneonox @celestiaelisia

#The Wick Family #The Wick Family Part 2 #father!Wick #father!John Wick #daddy!Wick #daddy!John Wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #dad!john wick #dad!wick #keanu reeves

53 notes · View notes

daydream-hobii · 6 years

Text

Shelter of Hope | Chapter 9

Genre: Poly!AU; Hybrid!AU; Fluff; Angst

Pairing: Hybrid BTS x Female!Reader; Human!Reader, Human!Namjoon, White Persian Cat!Seokjin, Siamese Cat!Yoongi, Border Collie!Hoseok, Calico Cat!Jimin, Australian Shepherd!Taehyung, Siberian Husky!Jungkook

Summary: Y/N and her husband Namjoon are the proud owners of a hybrid shelter, protecting and saving as many hybrids as they can. They have a couple of their own, a cat and dog hybrid, whom they love with all their hearts. In the shelter, they gain some hybrids with trauma filled pasts, and one particular one who no one seems to want. What will happen when their little family of four turns to eight?

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Assault, Depression, Anxiety; Suggestions of Smut; Read with caution <3

Word Count: 1,440

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 13.5: BONUS // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19 // Chapter 20 // Chapter 21 // Chapter 22 // Chapter 23 // Chapter 24 // Chapter 25 [FINAL] //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 9! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love getting feedback! I hope you enjoyed it!!! ^_^

“What?” I said, eyes hardening at his face.

“They took him today…. Their background checked out and they were very sweet,” Namjoon said, smiling softly.

“You did an adoption without me?” I asked, mouth gaping slightly. “We’re supposed to do that together.”

“Y/N,” He mumbled, stepping closer, but I stepped back, hurt filling his features at the action.

“You adopted out a hybrid that we were going to adopt and didn’t give me a chance to tell him goodbye?” I shouted, holding my heart to my chest.

“Jin was excited, and I gave him our phone numbers,” Namjoon replied, putting on a hard exterior.

“Namjoon!” I shouted, stepping closer to the door. “It’s one thing to do an adoption without me, but another to adopt a hybrid that we loved without me.”

“Y/N,” He warned, eyeing me. “You’re not being fair.”

“I know, but I think you can understand my anger!” I shouted again, eyes wide. I could feel the sadness creeping into my veins. “I understand that another person wanted him, that’s wonderful, but I at least wanted to say goodbye.”

Before he could speak again, I walked out the door. There stood all the boys, eyes wide. Even Yoongi seemed calmer than that morning, but he seemed to be having some inner turmoil with his rut. I ignored them, storming up to my bedroom and slamming the door.

I sat on the bed, tears streaming down my face. I was acting irrational, I knew that, but I didn’t even get to say goodbye…. I put my face in my hands, crying into them when I heard the door open slowly. I didn’t move, just kept my head in my hands, until I felt arms around my waist.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered, kissing the top of my head. “They were pretty persistent.”

“I’m sorry for yelling,” I choked out, hugging around his waist. I laid my head against his chest, looking at the door to see Jimin and Jungkook standing there, frowning at me.

“Y/N…?” Jimin whispered, making Namjoon turn his head to them as I sat up. “I’m sorry Jin left…. Maybe… you could adopt us…?”

“We’re good hybrids, we promise,” Jungkook replied, wide eyed. “I know we’re only here temporarily… but maybe….”

“Maybe we can make you happy?” Jimin asked, tail twitching a little. “You only wanted one… we know that, but maybe two will make you happier…?”

I moved my head to the side, watching how nervous they were. Namjoon was frozen, not knowing what to say or do. We had only known Jungkook and Jimin for a few days, and we knew Jin for almost two weeks.

“That’s sweet of you boys,” Namjoon said, making me look at him, furrowing my brow. “How about we cut a deal. Since you’re both staying with us, we’ll get to see how you act and react with all of us, especially the other hybrids. If it’s all good, and you aren’t adopted in, say, three weeks? We’ll adopt you both.”

They both cheered, running in and hugging us. Jimin hugged me while Jungkook took Namjoon before switching off. I was so surprised at Namjoon’s comment that I couldn’t really say anything. Once the two ran out, running downstairs, I just stared at a smirking Namjoon.

“What happened to no more than four?” I asked, making him chuckle.

“Well, three weeks is the average a hybrid stays with us. They’re both really energetic and I’m sure a college kid would love both a cat and dog hybrid, especially since they get along so well,” He replied, smiling at me.

“And if they don’t get adopted?” I asked, smiling.

“Then I guess we’ll have to make our family a little bigger,” He whispered, pecking my lips. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work…. How are you feeling?”

He stood up, taking my hand and walking with me downstairs as I sniffled, wiping my eyes with my free hand. We reached the front door and saw Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin in the living room, watching us.

“Better, my head isn’t as painful as before,” I replied, frowning.

“I know you’re sad,” He whispered, pressing his forehead to my own. “I’ll bring home takeout, we can just have a night to ourselves, hmm?”

“Alright, Joonie. I love you,” I whispered back, pecking his lips. He smiled once I pulled away, this time pecking my own lips.

“Love you too, Yeobo,” He said, opening the front door. “See you boys later.”

“Bye, Joonie!” Hoseok shouted, smiling bright.

Namjoon left and I walked over to the couch, plopping down and rubbing my face. I felt someone latch themselves onto me, hugging around my waist and burying his face into my shoulder, a soft purr erupting through his throat.

“Well, mister clingy, are you alright?” I asked, wrapping my arm around him. Jimin smiled up at me, nodding.

“Just happy,” He said, his ears twitching as he snuggled back into me.

I heard a very soft growl, looking at Hoseok who was glaring and pouting, crossing his arms. To my surprise, Jimin only smirked at him, snuggling closer to me, making me chuckle and shake my head.

“Boys, there’s plenty of me to go around,” I said, making Hoseok pout more. “Hey, where’s Taehyung and Yoongi?”

“Oh, they went upstairs,” Jungkook said, laughing. He seemed more confident than before. “Yoongi said he needed Tae in that very moment, and they left.”

“About time,” Hoseok said, rolling his eyes. “Gives me a break.”

“Oh, like yours isn’t worse,” I said, making him blush softly.

“Feels good to be a Beta,” Jungkook said, tail wagging as he put his hands behind his head, smirking.

“Lucky…” Hoseok and Jimin said at the same time, making them both glare at each other as Jungkook and I laughed.

“Come on, Hobi, be nice,” I warned, standing up and unlatching Jimin, walking over and kissing Hoseok’s lips, making him hold my head to deepen it before pulling away and smirking at Jimin, who only glared at us.

“Hoseok,” I warned, raising an eyebrow. “You two need to get along. You both have a lot in common, actually.”

“Like what?” He questioned, ears twitching in curiosity. Jimin seemed to lighten up, listening carefully.

“Well, Namjoon sent me a picture of his report. Turns out a hobby of his is dancing,” I said, making them both stand up, wide eyed.

“You like to dance?” Hoseok asked, tail wagging fast, ears perked up. Jimin’s was the same, but his tail was just twitching a little.

“Yeah! You do to?” Jimin said. I rolled my eyes, walking away to the kitchen, Jungkook carefully following me.

“Y/N?” He questioned, biting his lip as I looked at him with concern. “Did Namjoon really mean it? Adopting us, I mean.”

“Kookie,” I whispered, making his tail wag a little as he smiled softly. “Is that a good name?”

“Namjoon has been calling me it,” He said, making me chuckle and shake my head. I definitely had to talk to him about that.

“Well, Kookie,” I said, smiling softly. “Of course he meant it. We already really like you both, we just need to make sure the others do too.”

“Thank you,” He said, smiling. I smiled back, nodding. I turned and got a glass of water before frowning, looking at Jungkook again, who moved his head to the side curiously.

“Jimin’s an Omega, right?” I asked, making him nod. “When’s his heat?”

“Oh, it’s the last week of the month. He just gets really clingy and whiny…” Jungkook said, frowning.

“So, his is right after Hoseok’s…. That’s great,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Alpha’s only have it every three months while Omegas every two… right?”

“Right,” He said, nodding. “But don’t worry, I take care of his heats.” I raised my eyebrows in surprise, pursing my lips and nodding.

“So, you two are sort of a thing?” I asked, making him scoff.

“You’re one to judge,” He replied, making me chuckle as he smiled, tail wagging.

“You’re not wrong. Well, I’m glad,” I said, smiling.

Jungkook smiled back, nodding before going back to the living room. I smiled downwards, actually hoping the two wouldn’t get adopted. I’d love to have them here, and it made me excited that Namjoon was okay with it… but I couldn’t help but think about Jin. I felt like we were forgetting him too fast, replacing him with the two hybrids. I knew it wasn’t true, but Jin’s name revolved around my head, making me think hard about him. I hope he has a good, wonderful home, like he deserves….

970 notes · View notes

forgetmenotsandroses · 5 years

Text

The 4 Times Baz Tried to Say I Love You and the One Time He Actually Did

This was inspired by the Carry On Countdown day 24 prompt ‘ways to say i love you’, but life got in the way and it’s a little late :(

Big big thanks to @slightlystalesushirolls for dealing with me as I wrote this!!

Baz looks into the face of the boy the Crucible has brought to him, his supposed mortal enemy. But instead of the Mage’s pet, instead of a hateful creature, instead of whatever vile things Fiona’s said about the kid, Baz sees himself. To clarify, he sees another boy, terrified, and thrown into the deep end, but ready to fight. So he takes the hand extended in front of him. And stares into the most beautiful, ordinary pair of blue eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes. Eyes that he’s failed to notice, lost in thought as he is. And curls the colour of bronze. And a sprinkle of freckles, like fairy dust on golden skin. The chosen one is… handsome? Attractive? Incredibly lovely? This is completely unexpected. No one warned him about this. For once in his short but meticulously and carefully planned out life, Baz is flustered. Stunned. Gobsmacked. He tries to form words. Nothing comes out. He tries again. This time, a faint syllable emerges.

“I…”

This is more difficult than expected. What is he even going to say? Baz is hit with a realization, one that takes awhile to process. He has somehow become absolutely smitten with this boy he barely knows. But if he can just get the words out, the boy before him will know just how he feels. Maybe he believes in love at first sight too (not that Baz would ever admit to believing in love at first sight, he’s far too old for that fairytale nonsense). For a split second, Baz feels brave.

“I think…”

But the weight of his family and their legacy press down on him. How could he do this to them? After everything they’ve worked for, after his mother gave her life for his. The weight is heavy, far to heavy for the small shoulders of a young boy.

“I hate you!”

Baz is fifteen years old, and busy daydreaming up a world where he doesn’t have to pretend he hates the chosen one, where he is happy and light and free, where Simon Snow loves him back. His peaceful dreams of a flat lit by the soft beams of the afternoon sun and making out by the window (he is a teenage boy) are immediately interrupted by said chosen one himself storming into their room.

“Aww Snow, is something wrong?”

Simon scowls. “Fuck off, Baz. I’m not in the mood for your sinister nonsense.”

Internally, Baz sighs. He would like nothing more than to comfort the idiot before him, soothe his worries, make sure everything will be okay. But even if he did, Simon would definitely think he was joking. There’s no point. As Simon crashes around the room, Baz continues his daydream. Risky business, he knows, but what Simondoesn’t know won’t hurt him, and there’s nothing wrong with a little self indulgence, so long as no one ever finds out. Not like there’s mind readers in here anyways.

He’s so caught up in his domestic daydreams that he almost misses it when Simon leaves. In fact, he’s so caught up in his daydream that he forgets, for just a second, that they’re mortal enemies. He forgets that Simon doesn’t, wouldn’t, could not love him under any circumstances. Baz’s brain goes blank, and for a blissful moment Simon is just leaving their flat to do some errands, maybe get some groceries. When he comes back, Baz will kiss him and they’ll be happy together. For now, though, Baz bids his boyfriend adieu.

“Love you!”

A very frustrated Simon turns so forcefully that there are probably skid marks left on the floor, and Baz is snapped back into reality.

“What did you say?”

Baz backtracks furiously. Fuck. “I said that I loathe you! Whatever’s going on in that thick skull of yours doesn’t mean you get to treat our shared space like trash! Have some manners!”

During the fistfight that follows those comments, Baz feels a combined sense of relief and regret.

“You like her too, don’t you. But that’s too bad, because I’ve already asked her out!”

Baz looks up into Simon’s gleeful face.

“What are you talking about?”

Simon’s grin stretches wider, if that’s possible. “Agatha, obviously! I see you look at us whenever we’re together. I can tell how jealous you are!”

Baz swallows. He is jealous, but not of Simon.

“So, when I asked her out, and she said yes, I made sure to come up here and rub it in your stupid, plotting face!”

Simon continues talking, but Baz’s mind is elsewhere. His heart sinks. Hard. It was inevitable, obviously. The school’s golden boy and golden girl getting together. He’s pretty sure that there’s a pool going on whether Agatha is going to ask Simon first or Simon will ask Agatha (although that’s been resolved now), and everyone knows how perfect they would be together. Agatha Wellbelove, the sweetest, loveliest girl in all of Watford known for not just her beauty but her kindness, and Simon Snow, the handsome, dashing hero, the mage’s favourite, the chosen one. They fit together like puzzle pieces, her softness smoothing out his rough and both of them bathed in golden light. Like Barbie and Ken, made for each other. Yet, in a small, secret corner of his heart, Baz has unconsciously held onto the tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work out. That after the war was over and the dust settled, Simon would turn to him. That Simon would choose Baz the same way Baz would choose Simon. In a heartbeat. After all, haven’t they been through everything together?

Doesn’t Baz know Simon the best out of anyone, and vice versa? Baz is certain he cares about Simon more than anyone else in the world, more than the idiot mage or Agatha Wellbelove or even Penny Bunce, who clearly loves Simon dearly. There is no one else on the planet that Baz loves with such passion, but when he opens his mouth, his heart beats too fast and the words get tangled up and he says nothing at all.

It’s mid-October, and Simon Snow walks into their room looking like a used punching bag. He’s shaking slightly, his face is bruised and cut up, he has a limp, and bandages cover his left arm. He looks worn and weary, far older than his seventeen years. Baz wants to gather him up, find out what happened. Baz wants to take whoever’s responsible (probably the incompetent mage) and beat them within a centimetre of their life. Baz stares for a moment too long at the beautiful boy in front of him and wonders for the millionth why the world let someone so perfect become so broken.

Simon snarls, voice cracking. “What are you looking at?”

‘You’re beautiful.’ Baz thinks. ‘I love you’, he wants to say desperately. ‘I love you and I’ve loved you since the day we met, when the Crucible brought us together and even if you killed me I’d love you still. I want to kiss the tears from your face and hold you in my arms and tell you that darling, everything will look better in the morning because you, Simon Snow, are a fucking miracle, and the world rights itself around you. My world rights itself around you.’ Baz inhales, exhales deeply.

“I was looking at your stupid expression, Snow. Your mouth was hanging open so wide I thought your jaw might fall off.”

Everything is on fire. At least, that’s what it feels like to Baz. Watford is under attack, children’s screams echo into the night, and the world around him burns. Tonight, everyone else seems to be just as flammable as him.

As he runs through the gates to face the oncoming horde of monsters, several of Baz’s classmates fight alongside him. It’s funny that the Mage, supposed protector of the school, isn’t there to help. He’s probably fled in his cowardice. Despite this, the staff are fighting from the towers, casting protection spells and shooting down the occasional beast as they evacuate students. Of course, on the front lines, there’s Dev and Niall, his trusted friends and loyal compatriots. Unexpectedly, there’s also Bunce, Rhys, Elspeth, Gareth, Trixie, and Keris. It’s strange, to be on their side for once. He thought it might end the other way around, but here they are, coming together as one to defend Watford, their home. And come together, they do. Waves of magic hit goblins, chimeras, numpties, and other assorted creatures, while spells fly through the air like lightning. In fact, actual lightning flies through the air as well. It’s starting to storm, with rain lashing over the faces of the fighters and lightning crackling and thunder sounding in the distance. As it pours, Bunce, ever resourceful, casts a ‘keep clear’ onto her glasses. The rest of them copy her, using various spells to defend themselves from the weather as well as the beasts they’re fighting. As the battle intensifies, he feels his fangs emerge, but he doesn’t care, and no one else does either. Why would they care about something so trivial, when they’re winning?

As their opponents retreat, Agatha Wellbelove runs out of the Wandering Wood with Simon on her tail, yelling. The battle shifts. The forest is on fire. Suddenly, Keris screams as Trixie collapses into her arms, and Baz can’t tell whether or not she’s alive or dead. He can hardly make out anything through the rain, smoke, and bodies. As other move to cover them, magic and sparks dance together, intermixed with ashes blowing from the slowly smoldering forest. Every hair stands on end. Baz is covered in blood, so much blood, and he can’t even tell if it’s his. The pace speeds up, because if they’re going to win, they need to win now. Alistair fucking Crowley, this is cutting it close.

There is a seemingly endless stream of monsters, despite their efforts. It feels more and more like their reserves are dwindling while the numbers of the enemy stay the same. As merwolves emerge from the moat and they’re besieged on both sides, Baz casts spell after spell trying to find one that works. He finds the right words in an old Christmas carol. As silver bells rain from the skies above, the merwolves hiss and retreat.

In the midst of the battle, Baz sees Simon. He doesn’t care anymore if else anyone sees them. This could be the end, so fuck it. As he navigates himself through the sea of combatants, he sees Simon doing the same. Soon, sooner than expected, Simon is within reaching distance. They fight back to back.

“Snow, Simon, I—” what if, after tonight, he never sees Simon again? The thought is terrifyingly real. Visions of the chosen one dance in his mind’s eye, a bloodied body broken for good, bronze curls buried in mud, soft blue eyes unseeing. There is so much to process, so much to say, and far too little time. So it slips out in a bare whisper.

“I love you.”

He tries again, louder, more forceful. Trying to cut through the screaming and muck and grime. “Simon Snow! I love you!”

Simon stops for a moment, shocked. Time stops, and it’s just the two of them.

“I’ve loved you since I was eleven, and I think I’ll love you forever! If this fight doesn’t go our way, I want you to know that I died loving you, because you’ve been my light all these years and if you go, I’ll go too because there’s no bloody way I’m going to live in a world that you’re not in!”

Simon looks at him again, tears in his eyes. He turns and takes a step towards Baz.

“Baz,” he says, “Baz I feel the same—“

And that is where Simon, sweet, impulsive, stupid Simon, makes a mistake. You never turn your back on the enemy in battle. The goblin he was fighting stabs, fast and dirty, at Simon’s back. As he collapses, Baz lets loose a cry and lets go of every primal, feral urge he’s been holding back. Fury and adrenaline aid his movements and he slices through with spells and brute strength. He carves out a rough patch for him and Simon, enough to breathe and check if he’s alive because there’s no way in hell this is how it ends. Simon looks so small.

“Baz,” he whispers. “Baz, listen.” Simon goes into a coughing fit, and his hands are splattered with red when he stops.

“Shh. It’s alright. You don’t have to talk.” Baz is all tenderness now, even as the horde creeps in around them. Nothing in the world matters more than this.

“I need you to hold my hand, right now. I’m going to give you some of my magic.” Simon is curled up now, blood flowing fast from his back. That much magic use will surely damage his shattered body more than it already is.

“Simon—“ He looks again around him; the gate is breaking. Monsters surround the walls. Watford is almost done for.

“Baz, now!”

Baz hesitates for a split second before grabbing Simon’s hand, and promises to himself that he will not let go. No matter what happens.

The spell comes to Baz, almost laughable in its simplicity. He holds hands with the boy he’s loved forever, and feels magic greater than he’s ever know well up inside of him. His blood sings, filled to the brim with potential and fire.

“Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.”

A flash of white light and the battlefield stills. Slowly, slowly, the monsters disappear, like photographs developing in reverse. As the swarms fade from view until they’re nothing more than dust motes in bright light, something stirs behind Baz. He turns. Against all odds, against everything, Simon Snow is alive.

“He’s here.” He whispers, and Baz is at his side in an instant.

“Who’s here, darling?”

Simon raises a shaking hand, and points. The air around them changes, and he sees his celebrating, mourning classmates and teachers stiffen. Magic is draining rapidly from the land, leaving Baz feeling parched and dry. There’s a little boy on the field now, maybe eleven or twelve years old, bouncing a red ball. Baz starts, but as the child walks towards them, it’s clear that he only has eyes for Simon.

As he approaches, the stares of everyone rest upon them. No one moves a muscle, save the child and Simon, who is starting to push himself up, though he’s pale with loss of blood. Baz tries to help him, or stop him, but he’s paralyzed. The kid is eerily familiar, and it’s only when he speaks do the pieces click in Baz’s mind. A younger, dirtier Simon Snow is before them.

“Hello.” He says. “I think you’ve been expecting me.”

Simon looks at him, stares for a second, like his eyes need time to focus. Baz wants to scream, but time seems like syrup and the air is so still.

“I know how to stop you. I wasn’t sure before, but I’m sure now.”

The boy sneers at that.

“What are you going to do? Stab me with your little sword? Use a big, powerful spell? I’m the Insidious Humdrum. Fighting me is pointless.”

“No,” rasps Simon. “I’m not going to fight you. I’m giving back what I took from you.”

The Humdrum has reached them now. He’s not angry, not disdainful anymore. He seems inquisitive, and when Simon extends his trembling hands, he takes them. Simon closes his eyes, and Baz sees the strain in his face. It takes him a second, but everyone on the grounds seems to start realizing what’s happening. Simon is pushing his magic into the Humdrum, who’s accepting it willingly. All Baz can do is stare as Simon weakens, wringing out every last drop of magic from his tired body for what seems like hours but could be minutes, even seconds. Time passes strangely when everyone is frozen in place, unable to tear their eyes away. Suddenly, he collapses against Baz. It’s over.

Miraculously, the dead zone lifts. Magic returns to them, flooding in as if some gate has opened, and Baz starts to cast every single healing spell he knows. Simon is non-verbal, looking up with blind eyes and all Baz can think is I’m losing him.

“Hold on love, I’ve got you. Keep your eyes open and it will be okay. Just keep your eyes open…”

Bunce comes up first, followed by Wellbelove and Dev and Miss Possibeif and a torrent of other students and teachers. They form a healing circle, frantically trying to stem the flow of blood. Nothing seems to be working, either because their magic reserves have been depleted, or Simon is too far gone. Baz can’t tell. In the chaos, the Humdrum has slipped away into nothingness.

This is Baz’s nightmare, his personal hell. He’s dreamed of fire and blood and the sting of bitter tears, but it’s always been Simon standing above him, while Baz dies looking into those perfect, ordinary eyes. It’s not supposed to be like this; the chosen one in his arms, the little life he has left draining rapidly from his bruised body.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please.” The word echoes in his skull, and Baz is reminded of the old lullaby. He owes it to Simon, he figures. To sing him to sleep, to comfort him this last time. He prays that this will make up for each time he couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t say anything when he knew Simon was hurting. He knows it isn’t enough.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey…”

Baz is crying now, fat teardrops running down his face. He hasn’t cried this hard since he was a child. He lets out great, gasping sobs, hardly able to get the words out, but he owes this to Simon. Everyone around him has gone silent.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you…”

They’re too young for this. Far too young to die in a war that isn’t theirs. Simon Snow deserves to be more than a faded flower, a name in the history books. He deserves to be alive and vibrant and so bright it hurts to look at. With this thought in mind, Baz sings the last bit of the song. He puts everything he has into it, desperately hoping it will be enough. A last-ditch effort to save the one he loves.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

But the chosen one is silent and grey from blood loss, his face smudged with ash and dirt. Carefully, gently, Baz wipes the grime from his face, smooths out the unruly curls like he’s always dreamed of doing, though not like this. Never like this. He silently places a kiss on Simon’s cold lips. How long has he imagined this moment? How many times has he wished and hoped just to brush his lips against Simon’s? But he always thought that his lips would be warm. Right now, it’s like kissing ice. He looks at the face of brilliant, golden boy he’s been in love with since the beginning, with no tears left to cry. Then Simon opens his eyes, and kisses Baz right back.

For a moment, it’s just them. Just tongue and lips and teeth and Simon and Baz just like it should be, just like it’s always been. The battlefield and everyone in it melts away and Baz wants to stay like this forever.

Bunce’s screams puncture the space first. As he opens his eyes, he can’t even be mad, because Simon looks so happy to see her. They’re crying big, dripping tears, and she embraces both of them, hugs them so hard that Baz wheezes and Simon cries out and everyone around them starts, remembering that Simon is still injured. With renewed energy, healing spells are cast, potions conjured, and bandages are wrapped. Despite this, Simon can’t feel his legs. Baz carries him as everyone walks back to Watford, together and triumphant. Simon muses that maybe it’s permanent, but losing the use of his legs seems a small price to pay for his life. He grins, and Baz smiles fondly.

“What do we do now?”

“We carry on, love. Just like we always have, just like we always will.”

Simon smiles wider, if that’s possible, and leans in for another kiss.

#coc 2018 #carry on countdown #snowbaz #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #im actually proud of this yall #trin writes #carry on fic #carry on fanfic #carry on fanfiction

120 notes · View notes

fyeahrixonne · 7 years

Note

The boys,Rickyl, forget their anniversary and try to make it up to a very hurt Michonne. (Maybe her ex never remembered things like that, and it made her feel that sadness/disappointment all over again.)

(set in the no-zombies AU (this prompt’s been sitting for a YEAR. sorryy. ~tails))

You stretch languorously, toes curling, and groan when your back screams at you. Even with a proper night’s sleep, the hectic shift you’d had yesterday is still coiled around your body as comeuppance. You’d been so tired you just stripped down to your boxers and hit the bed as Daryl and Michonne lay sleeping.

Even with your eyes still closed, you can feel Daryl shifting beside you, trying to go back to sleep as he always does when he wakes up the first time. You blink and crane your neck to look over Daryl’s bare shoulders and back to see that Michonne isn’t in bed with you anymore. Strange, considering it’s the extremely rare occasion that all three of you have days off at the same time. It’s usually spent in couch potato mode, .

Daryl snuffles, probably having given up on trying to sleep again, and opens his eyes. “Heya,” you croak, smiling, and kiss him, though he tries to sway away because he’s embarrassed about his morning breath. “What time did you get back last night?”

“Maybe a little after ‘Chonne did.” He rubs at his eyes. “The Silverstone we’re restorin’s been a bitch. Imma see if Ford’s done with the paint job.” He reaches for his phone in his pants’ pocket balled up under his pillow, the slob. He chuckles when you chide him for it, but then goes stock-still while staring at his screen. “fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” He holds his phone up to you, staring at the ceiling with an empty expression on his face. On his screen are a slew of unread text messages the night before, from Glenn. “happy anniv!!!!” “holy shit i cant believe you guys have made it this far, its awesome” “tell rick and michonne congrats for me and maggie” “i hope you guys had fun ;3″

“Wow, I can’t believe it either. A year since you seduced me.” You laugh and kiss Daryl’s bristly cheek. “Congrats to us, honey.” When he doesn’t respond, something tightens in your chest. “What’s with that face? Having second thoughts?” you try to jest, though it’s a legitimate, tangible fear.

This finally snaps Daryl out of it. “Huh? No, ‘course not. But…we forgot it yesterday. And ‘Chonne was in a real quiet mood when I got home. Didn’t even reply when I said ‘I love you.’”

It finally dawns on you. “fuck.”

You both shuffle like gallows-condemned men from your bedroom to the kitchen. Michonne is at the dining table, staring into her mug of coffee like it’s the most compelling thing she’s ever seen. Her face is a window with the curtains drawn, even here in the clear light of morning, and your chest literally twinges from the ache.

Daryl coughs, and asks, “Andre’s off t’ school already?” It’s a testament to how rattled he is, that he’s the one initiating conversation.

Michonne gives the barest nod, and tightens her grip on the coffee mug. After exchanging glances, you sit on the chair beside Michonne, and Daryl perches on the kitchen counter, biting at his thumb. Nobody says anything for a while.

Finally, you’ve organized your thoughts and start talking to the scuffed floor. “Lori was real big on anniversaries.” You feel both their eyes land on you, and you have to force yourself to continue talking. “What kind of gift for which year, what flowers. Silver and gold anniversaries and all that. I grew to dread it...resent it. Like a time bomb. The date became just a date, and the real meaning got lost to me.”

You force yourself to look at both of them, especially Michonne. “But this is different. Not just because we’re...you know, three people in a relationship, but you mean so much to me. And I don’t wanna make the same mistakes. Me being so busy on duty lately is no excuse for me to forget. I’m so sorry. ”

In your peripheral vision, Daryl nods, and shifts uneasily, knowing he also has to say something. “I did know that our anniversary thing was this month. Didn’t know the exact date but I always knew October was our month.” He trails off, and makes a sound that’s somehow both a laugh and a sob. “I never thought we’d get this far. Shit. I’m just an asshole from Hicktown, I was so sure you guys’d get sick o’ me. So every day is important to me. Not just one day of the year in particular. Ain’t a good excuse or what, but s’all I got. You’re all I got. M’sorry.”

All this time your eyes flit from Daryl’s open wound of a mouth to Michonne’s fingers as they slowly uncurl from her coffee. You hold your hand out for her in case she wants to take it, and she does. Her hand is still warm from holding the mug. She reaches her hand out for Daryl to take too, and he hops down from the counter to do it.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.” You and Daryl both perk up at how firm and stern her voice is. “You’re gonna take out some French toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs from the cafe down the street for our breakfast, we’re gonna eat it, and after we’ve digested from watching Evolution and Orlando Jones, you’re going to treat me right andremember this date for the rest of your lives.”

She still sounds a little hurt, but her smile is genuine, more radiant than the sunlight streaming through the windows, more than you deserve. “For the rest of our lives, huh? A proposal already? Damn, we’re moving fast.”

Daryl buries his face in Michonne’s hair to hide his happy laughter, and his free arm whips out to pull you closer as well. You stand like that over Michonne, her head pillowed between your stomachs, and think helplessly, i love them.

#fic #rixonne #dixonne #richonne #rickyl #anonymous #IM ALIIIIVEEEE I LIVE HELLO #tails

19 notes · View notes

lcydragneel · 7 years

Text

Day 4: Nightmares

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Flashbacks are one hell of a nightmare, especially when Lucy’s fear is being abandoned.

Thanks for helping me out! @chikach00 @brokenangelwings83 and @mushi0131 :D Really appreciate it!

Heavy footsteps pounded against the cement sidewalk in the quiet night of Magnolia. Rain poured down hard against the ground soaking the soil to turn into mud and making the roads almost flood with run off water.

The dark obsidian skies were clouded making the night all the more gloomy and the pounding of rain seemed to block out every single sound in the area.

The girl hastily running down the street threw her soaking blonde hair over her shoulder, out of her face to try and see through the dark streets. Her half lidded brown eyes blinked through the raindrops to see where she was even going, but she had no idea herself.

Tears quickly streamed down her face and blended in with the downpour hitting against her face painfully. Loud sobs choked their way through Lucy’s fragile voice as she continued sprinting against the wind.

As soon as she turned a sharp corner, her foot caught in a pothole in the road of the alleyway. Her heel of her shoe got stuck, and her whole body twisted causing a sudden halt to her movement. Body weight thrown towards the ground, Lucy felt pain shoot directly to her newly broken ankle.

A loud scream erupted from the depth of her being in complete utter agony. The intensity of pain she was experiencing was unbearable. Her hands flew out to protect her body from the road, scraping her palms on the gravel. Once the young woman landed, her loud crying turned into uncontrollable sobbing and bawling tears.

She didn’t even hesitate to stay in that position, so she pulled all her strength into reaching her scraped and bloody hands outward to pull her body forward on the ground. She did her best to continue crawling forward, away from what she was running from or towards.

Lucy didn’t get far before she gave up and collapsed from the pain. She dropped her head down, with her head with an ear to the ground, low on strength. Her sobbing finally slowed as she closed her eyes letting her mind wander to the darkness of her thoughts.

“Natsu… don’t leave me alone.” She whispered to herself in a hoarse voice.

The image of Natsu and Happy’s departure letter fresh in her mind. She just couldn’t accept the fact that they were truly gone. The two that had been her family, and had been by her side since the very beginning. How could they just leave like that?

As she laid on the road, she was oblivious to the state of her physical appearance. Her blonde hair had since turned a light brown due to the water soaking it and the mud from the road tangled and mixed in.

Lucy’s mind wandered to the time when she last saw Natsu before his farewell address. She had no clue that the last time she saw him during their tartarus would be their last. She regretted all the words caught in her throat that she never said while he had been at her side.

Memories of the two together flooded her thoughts, causing her heart to clench in pain being heartbroken with loneliness. She was finally alone, like she had always felt since her mother passed. The feeling was practically her worst fear, isolation.

“Natsu…” Her weak voice croaked out before coughing through the sickness slowly getting to her. She was sure to have a cold the next morning due to the cold rain soaking her thin blouse and short white skirt.

“Please don’t leave me.” Lucy called out once more to the emptiness of the sleeping town. Not a single soul was outside to hear her broken wailing in the midst of the night. Her soft pleas for Natsu were just her talking to herself in her fragile state.

She pondered the last memories she remembers sharing with the boy she’d grown so close to. Every thought so vivid she could practically still see his slightly faded white scaled scarf and his crazy pink, spiky hair. Everything about him that made him so different, so Natsu.

The image of his warm smile was burned into her brain as a sense of comfort she was currently lacking. She was in solitude once more since the years of living within a family mansion lacking love. The feeling pulling her apart like string unraveling off a spool.

“Natsu please. Not again...no.” She cried, staring at the emptiness of the gloomy valley, imagining his retreating figure leaving her behind. She would have done anything to never feel that emptiness of being by herself again.

“Lucy.” The now dirty blonde girl could hear Natsu say in her mind. Her memories replayed nonstop that she could practically feel his warmth engulfing her, and his familiar scent fill her nose. Too bad it was all her imagination, because she wanted nothing more than for him to be beside her.

She could remember the last time she held on to him, the many times his comforting arms stitched together her broken pieces.

“Lucy.” Her mind replayed the reminiscence of his voice that she could still remember, hoping she could never forget the sound of his voice.

She’d always loved when he had called her name, it always made her feel important to him. Whenever Natsu had said those four letters, it’s as if he brought the name to life to describe her. He made her Lucy of Fairy Tail, not Lucky Lucy Heartfilia. He gave her name such a new meaning that it became who she truly was.

“Lucy!” His tone seemed to shout in her head as if he was in front of her in reality.

Suddenly her mind snapped out of her flashbacks to become aware of her surroundings once again as another crack of thunder echoed through the sky. No longer freezing in the downpour, her thin body had finally stopped shivering. That’s when she came back to the real world truly.

There was Natsu’s tanned arms wrapped around her thin waist, holding her smaller body against his. Confusion and anxiety bubbled in her chest as she realized it was truly him. That’s when the memories of last year flashed through her mind.

He had returned from his training, and the broken pieces had been put together from the guild. Everything was okay, and she was just there looking pathetic as she relieved old flashbacks from him abandoning her after a battle. The nightmares were getting out of her control, and it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t even control her own mind completely.

She just gave into his embrace, pushing away all her negative thoughts to a later moment. She just wanted to enjoy the hug she was being held in as it still lasted before the cycle began again. The many events of trauma she’d experienced from battles caused her to get sprouts of random flashbacks leaving her in many states of confusion. Most situations causing her to feel as if she was reliving each memory, and making her act almost irrationally.

“I’m right here, Lucy,” He said in calm voice to reassure the blonde girl. He just wanted her to calm down and nothing else in that moment.

“Please don’t leave me alone again, Natsu.” She wailed against his chest, not caring how she appeared to him.

He didn’t reply to her comment, unsure of what to say. He just leaned his body over hers to catch the rain pouring from above in his pink locks to try and protect her already drenched figure.

She slowly began nodding off into slumber as the rain finally began slowing down. The both of them remained seated in the alleyway for what seemed like hours before she fell asleep with Natsu watching over her protectively. It wasn’t until she was lightly snoring due to her clogged nose before he said another thing to her.

“Sorry, Lucy. I can’t promise that.”

Credit to @rebelgirlmatrix1213 for drawing amazing fanart for my story, thanks girly! :3

#nalu angst week #nalu-angst-week #my fanfic #fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #Lucy Heartfillia

76 notes · View notes

summylise · 7 years

Text

The Beginning of the End

A/N: OML THIS IS SOOOOOO LATE I CAN’T EVEN. I MEANT TO POST THIS TWO DAYS AGO BUuutt i was kind of on the road and couldn’t post it from my phone ahaha. So here is the third chapter of Nightmares, Scars, and the END.

title: Nightmares, Scars, and the END

prompt: END, duh

chapter 1, chapter 2 , chapter 3

rating: T

pairings: nalu

words: 5417

summary: He had given in, and she was too late. There was nothing she could do besides beg and plead for him to come back to her. She knew it was in vain, that the words would never reach him. But there was still a sliver of her that hoped he was still in there. In the end, her kindness gave her scars that would never let her forget when her happiness had slipped through her fingers.

Eight months earlier

Lucy’s alarm screeched in her ear, ripping her eyes open and had her sitting upright in her bed faster than you could say “Aye.” All the blood rushed to her head, sending stars in every direction. God how she hated having that damn alarm clock. She’d only bought it because Erza kept insisting that “to be the most productive, you must start the day off with a bang,” or something. Now she was seriously considering throwing it from her second story window. But for now, she just settled on slamming the off button and smothering it with a blanket.

Lucy rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced out the window. At least it had woken her when the sun was actually up, rather than yesterday when it was still the middle of the night. She groaned and padded to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, surprisingly fast for Lucy, she was showered, dressed, and marching down the street towards Fairy Tail. Magnolia was alive and bustling, even this early in the morning. The baker across the street placed all sorts of treats and confectionaries out for display in his windows and waved to her as she passed. The local fruit vendor was just arriving and setting up his stall, ready to take on a day of sales and hopefully leave without any rotting or bruised produce. Her favorite yogurt shop was just opening for the day, the elderly owner flipping over the closed sign and waving at Lucy as she passed. She smiled and took in a deep breath of fresh, spring air.

Her hands pressed against the rough wood of the guild hall doors. The scent of beer and fried food wafted in through the open doors, instantly easing the tension from her shoulders. The only thing unusual about the guild hall was the sheer lack of anyone, really. Mira still held her place by the bar, gently wiping down the glasses that were surely used the night before, Cana in front of her drinking from a wine glass, instead of her usual barrel of alcohol. Max swept through the rows of tables and chairs, too preoccupied with cleaning to notice her walk in.

Lucy padded to the bar and took the seat next to Cana, slamming her head on the table the instant she sat down. Despite being up and out of the house in record time, her brain was still in sleep mode. She automatically nodded when Mira asked her something, not giving much thought to what the bar maid’s muffled voice had said. Mira slid a small plate of eggs and bacon towards her a few minutes later, a mug of coffee following soon after. Lucy blindly reached for the mug and brought it to her lips.

“I don’t know how you can stand that,” said Cana, gesturing to her mug.

Lucy rolled her eyes and lifted her head to face Cana.

“Says the girl who only ever drinks one thing,” Lucy countered.

Cana’s mouth opened then closed again, as she thought of what to say next. She ended up smirking and tilting her glass in Lucy’s direction.

“Touché.”

Lucy picked the fork from its thrown position beside her and poked at the eggs haphazardly. Her eyes felt heavy, and she couldn’t help the yawn that slipped out.

“Dang seems like they partied hard last night, huh?” she said to no one in particular. She continued to stare at the breakfast and after a second started eating.

“Well you know how they are,” Mira started, her ever-present smile visible. “Most of them collapsed in the guild hall, but I kicked them out pretty early this morning.”

“And you’re still here this early?” Lucy said, almost wrenching her gaze from her plate. Mira looked unfazed by the lack of sleep, her face bright and clear as usual.

“Whatever would we do without our responsible barkeep and mother hen, Mirajane?” Cana said with a wink.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I was going to comment on your being here early too, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Cana smiled and wrapped her arm around Lucy’s shoulders, nearly causing the fork to stuff its way down Lucy’s throat.

She was gagging when Cana said, “Hey, the earlier I am, the more booze I get. Haven’t you heard the saying ‘early bird gets the beer’?”

“I don’t think that’s how that’s how it goes,” Mira mused.

Cana rolled her eyes and lifted the arm from Lucy. Lucy’s eyes watered, still recovering from the almost suffocation by fork. Her hands sought after her mug and greedily gulped it down. She tried to ignore the course, burning as she chugged the coffee, instead relishing in the relief it gave her when she could finally breathe.

Being without taste buds for a while was a hell of a lot better than dying, she thought.

It wasn’t until about ten that morning that people started filing in, most making a lethargic beeline for the bar begging for Mira’s hangover-cure-all. It got to a point where, after seeing Mira overflowing with the numerous requests, Lucy had decided to help the poor bar hand. By the end of it all, Lucy was sat slumped over the bar and wishing she could just go back to bed and the bar looked a lot emptier, and a lot dirtier, than it had when she arrived.

Lucy twisted in her chair to watch as the life slowly returned to her insane guild. Elfman and the Thunder Legion were the worst victims, still slung over a table in the darkest corner of the room, groaning about headaches or how men never got drunk. Alzack and Bisca along with Team Shadow Gear, well just Levy really, had abstained from the party, instead focusing on their daughter or pouring over books. Gray and Erza had been the quickest to recover, Erza already starting on her morning dose of confectionaries whereas Gray was helping Juvia through a particularly uncomfortable hangover. Well, it was more like she was sobbing while holding onto him for dear life while he just stroked her hair and let it all pass. Wendy was the only one moving any faster than a snail’s pace; she raced from table to table, administering varying degrees of her affectionately named “Hangover Magic” as Mira’s cure-all slowly kicked in.

It took her a second to realize that something was off, not quite right. It was as if the guild hall was warm and welcoming but that there was just one piece, one portion missing from the intricate pattern. Her smile began to fall as she glanced at all the faces around the hall. Erza, too, had lifted her head from the basket of breakfast sweets to sweep the hall. It was just too…quiet. Too calm for this to be right, even for the morning.

The answer hit her like a freight train, and she didn’t know why it took so long to figure it out.

There was no arm slammed over her shoulder, no one yelling at her to pick a job, no fighting, nothing. Just an eerie calm that began to press on her like a thick, woolen blanket. No blue cat sat on the bar top, happily munching at today’s fresh catch of the day. No dragon slayer stood beside her, bragging about his latest fight with Gray.

“Natsu,” she murmured.

Her mouth parted as she turned to Mira, ready to ask her about the dragon slayer.

The great, wooden doors of the hall slammed open as a something came whizzing in her direction, slamming into her chest. The wind rushed out of her, and her body crashed to the ground with a bang.

“Lucy!” screamed the creature sobbing in her chest.

Happy, she realized as she glanced down at the blue cat. His claws dug into her shirt as if his life depended on it. His tiny body trembled violently as each sob racked his body. The entire guild froze, their eyes glued to Happy. No one dare say a word. No one even breathed. Lucy’s heart picked up, and her eyes widened. She tentatively placed her fingers on his fur, lightly stroking it in the hopes that he would calm down if only a fraction. He tensed for a moment when her skin touched his fur.

“Happy,” she almost whispered, her voice straining. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Happy shook his head and pressed himself further into her chest.

“He…it. It was so scary and then…and then-Natsu-“

Lucy jerked her head up and tried searching for her friend at the mention of his name.

“Happy, where’s Natsu?”

“Natsu! He-he got Natsu! He just-“

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, Happy,” mused Mirajane. She tried to appear calm, but Lucy could see the way her eyes strained and how her smile was thin. Lucy’s stomach twisted. Her arms began to tremble, blood running cold.

Lucy slowly peeled Happy away from her chest and looked him in the eye. The poor cat was a mess: his eyes, swollen and red, were wide with terror, tears streamed down his cheeks, making the blue of his fur turn a dark shade of navy. She placed her palms on his cheeks and wiped at his tears with her thumbs. Happy sniffed, and his sobs began to dissolve. His little paws grasped onto her wrists and gripped with all their might.

“Natsu…he…he was kind of attacked? It all happened so fast I…I didn’t know what happened. But it seemed to be taking him over or something. Next thing I knew, he was yelling at me to go to the guild, and it was Natsu but…wasn’t him…like it was his voice, but it sounded very scary. Very not-Natsu,” Happy started.

Lucy’s mouth slowly parted, her eyes widening a fraction. Her stomach twisted painfully again. Something attacked Natsu? And he couldn’t beat it?

His sobbing picked up again. “A-and there was nothing I could do! I just floated there for a second and couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything!”

Mira walked around the bar and crouched to make herself eye level with Happy. The smile was gone from her face, her jaw clenched. Her hands were fists at her side, but even Lucy could see how much they shook.

“What attacked him, Happy,” Mira said slowly.

Just as Happy was about to speak again, Jet raced through the doors.

“Guys! Something’s attacking the town! South-side! It’s tearing everything apart!”

Southside. That’s near Happy and Natsu’s place.

The blood drained from her face, and she slowly turned back to Happy. The cat’s eyes were wide, terrified. He stared up at Lucy with those huge, tear-filled eyes, and she knew. Something had been scratching at her all morning, but the look he gave her confirmed her suspicions.

Her blood flushed from her body. Erza was the first to speak up and yelled something that jumbled in her ears. Her mind was laser focused. She could only think of one thing as she was hauled out of the hall and started to the explosions in the distance:

“Natsu.”

~~~

The scene they arrived to was straight out of one of her novels: fire everywhere, in the buildings, in the bushes, on…people. Smoke clawed out of buildings like caged animals, ignoring those caught inside. The smell was just as bad as the sight, if not worse. Smoke, sweat, blood, so much blood. It all invaded and enveloped her senses so fast; she barely had time to clamp a hand over her mouth before it tore its way into her throat. Lucy couldn’t help but gag at the smell and taste of it all.

People everywhere were screaming, pleading for help. Civilians raced paced her, and she barely managed to keep herself standing. Mothers held their children precariously out of windows of the burning buildings to those waiting below. Lucy couldn’t stand the sight of it and had a hard time holding in her breakfast.

If it wasn’t the people themselves, it was the creature, far enough in the distance for her to not be able to see its features but close enough to smell the death and decay and hear its vicious roars. The roars that were purely demonic, dark and scratchy, like gravel thrown into a paper shredder. It was animalistic, rough and deep, but with a hint of something else. Something raw. Something…human.

Erza stepped forward, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Alright, everyone! Spread out! Shadow Gear and Thunder Legion! You handle rescues. Make sure everyone is safe and stays that way. Wendy! Help the rescue teams. Make sure everyone makes it out of here alive! Gray, Happy, Lucy. You’re with me! Everyone else, try and back up the rescuers and keep the damage to a minimum! And make sure that thing doesn’t get any farther than this square!”

The instant she finished, everyone kicked into gear. Lucy raced to Erza’s side, closely followed by Gray and Happy.

“Please tell me you have some kind of plan,” Gray asked.

Erza slowly shook her head, her eyes glued to the creature slowly lumbering towards them.

“We just have to take it down as fast as possible. No matter the cost. We can’t let that creature harm any more people,” she stated through gritted teeth, her face almost impassive. She took a quick breath and broke off into a sprint after the creature.

Lucy locked eyes with Gray and nodded, turning to face the demon as well. Lucy took a steadying breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She shook out her hands. Her lip snuck between her teeth. Then she too was racing after the creature.

“Open!” she called, slashing her key downwards. “Gate of the archer! Sagittarius!”

She pointed the key ahead of her to the roof of a building above the demon. Seconds later, a bright light flashed into existence. A man in a horse costume carrying a fairly large bow appeared, his hand already saluting her even from a distance away. Lucy pointed towards the demon as she pulled out her second key. As she neared, she saw Sagittarius nod and lift his bow to aim. She gripped the second key between her fingers and swiped it downwards as well.

“Open! Gate of the Lion! Leo!”

A light, even brighter than Sagittarius’, flashed into existence beside her. Loke, wild orange mane and all, appeared beside her matching her pace.

“What are we up against this time?” he questioned, his tone serious.

Lucy panted, feeling the slight pull on her magic from summoning two spirits. She grit her teeth. There was no time for her to be getting the least bit tired; the citizens of Magnolia were in danger.

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, it was strong enough to beat Natsu pretty easily so watch out.”

Loke nodded, his eyes never leaving those of the demon.

As they neared, the true monstrosity of it came into view, and she had to bit her lip to suppress the gasp. It was coated in dark, inky liquid that dripped onto the cobblestone path, coating it with its oily substance. It was tall, the top of its head almost reaching the second floors of the surrounding buildings, with great horns that curved back to form a sort of helm of dark ivory. Its dark wings shot out from behind him, almost touching the buildings on either side of him. Its large, sharp claws nearly the size of her shoe slashed at the few people that tried to escape around him, instantly setting him ablaze. He tossed a ball of fire with his other hand into the apartment building just behind Lucy, sending embers in every direction. His muscular, shadowy arms tensed as it caught sight of the small group before him. His golden eyes widened a fraction before narrowing on each of them. It paused and scanned each of them individually before stopping on her and Happy. Lucy clenched her fists and glared into its deep eyes, challenging it despite her fear almost overwhelming her.

Then the creature dipped its head and smirked, revealing its large sharp canines. It was almost as if it was taunting them, bragging. The shadows and inky liquid coating it slowly dripped down and off its skin. The creature itself began to shrink, its features becoming more defined. The wings seemed to flex and pulse as if trying to shake off the oily substance. The horns remained but the liquid melted from its body revealing…no.

It couldn’t be.

The last of the ink slid down his cheek and dripped into the pool that formed beneath him revealing tanned skin. Lucy’s eyes widened, her hands flying to her lips. He continued grinning at them, that same grin that used to make her heart skip, now infected by darkness and contorting into a mocking, baring of teeth. His eyes still golden, held a sort of insane mirth, something she had never seen in him in all of their years together. The dark horns, his horns, protruded from his blazing pink hair like a dark inkblot on a crisp, clean page. It was foreign. It was out of place. It was…wrong.

“Natsu,” she murmured between her fingers.

She saw from the corner of her eye, Sagittarius’ bow lower and Loke tense. She could hardly register the shock of her friends around her, their astonishment that their fire-breathing maniac of a friend had deliberately set fire to Magnolia and killed its residents. It was as though tunnel vision had taken her over and all she could see was Natsu. Crazed, destroying, and horn-toting Natsu but also…not-Natsu.

The creature-no Natsu- laughed, the noise something straight out of a horror novel. That wasn’t Natsu’s laugh. It was dark and gravelly and thick. It was as though someone had taken Natsu and infected him with dark magic.

“Nah, that guy’s long gone. Made sure of that the moment I took over,” he growled in his dark, evil voice.

“Liar.” Lucy ground out the words. “That’s not true, and you know it. Natsu’s still in there.”

“Lucy,” Loke warned under his breath.

Natsu narrowed his eyes. A challenge.

“Oh really?” he taunted. “Why don’t you come over and find out.”

Lucy grit her teeth.

“I’m not going to do that. I can’t fight you. I can’t fight Natsu,” she said.

Natsu’s large, black claws flexed and a tick in his jaw clicked. The muscles in his shoulders tensed and Lucy saw, with a deep shot to the gut that his guild mark was nowhere to be seen, instead covered by a large, black stain. He snarled and reeled back on his haunches.

Natsu leaped in the air, launching himself directly at her before she could even register he had left the ground. Lucy couldn’t think of what to do other than squeeze her eyes shut.

But no attack came.

She slowly peeled her eyes open to see a pair of glasses and a bright orange mane staring down at her with wide eyes. Natsu slammed into the cobblestone where she had just stood, smashing the rock and sending debris in all directions. Adrenaline shot like lightning throughout her body, and her eyes shot wide. That could have been her. Terror flashed through her, sending a chill down her spine. She slowly lifted her eyes to Natsu’s, expecting pure hatred and rage.

Instead, she saw a flash of onyx, gone so fast she thought she was imagining things. He didn’t immediately charge at her. He could have easily released a fire attack and killed them instantly, but he chose not to. Because Natsu was still in there and Natsu couldn’t kill them. And if Natsu was fighting, so would she.

Lucy gulped and took a calming breath.

“Loke,” she said, her voice steady.

Sensing her intentions, he placed her on the ground.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“So do I. Wish me luck?” Lucy said, lifting her eyes to him with a smirk.

He chuckled, a bit more strained than she would have hoped but he mimicked her smirk. He shifted his glasses and placed his hands on his hip.

“You don’t need it. You’re Lucky, Lucy Heartfilia, remember,” he retorted.

Lucy grabbed his arm as he turned to return to the Celestial World. Loke paused. His eyes glanced to the fingers that gripped his black, suit sleeve then followed them up his wizard’s arm to her determined face. Her eyes stared at the ground, her mind somewhere else.

“I want you to promise me something, Loke.”

Loke slowly turned to face her, the corners of his lips quirked. “Anything for you, Princess.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. She paused and took a breath, choosing her words carefully. She couldn’t risk him coming back.

“Promise me you won’t come back. No matter what. I don’t want Natsu hurt in any way-”

“Lucy-”

“Promise me,” she repeated. Lucy lifted her eyes to his. “No matter what. You have to trust me.”

The spirit stared at her for a moment, eyes searching for something, anything that indicated doubt. Instead, he found a fire, an unwavering determination to Natsu. He could feel her emotions through the keys, how much she cared, how much she really cared, about the dragon slayer and how much she absolutely needed to save him.

He sighed and inevitably nodded.

“Just try not to blow up the town, ok? Magnolia’s kind of grown on me over the years,” he said, dissolving into gold stars with Sagittarius soon behind.

Lucy rolled her eyes as she snatched at her whip and raced to Natsu, still crouched and stared at her with those deep golden eyes. Erza requipped a few feet away from her and Gray pressed his fist to his palm, mist already forming at its center.

“Natsu’s still in there, I know it! We just have to draw it out!” she called out to them. “But try not to hurt him! We don’t want to hit Natsu!”

Gray paused a moment before nodding. Natsu roared and charged toward the group. Erza let out a battle cry, racing to meet him halfway. She jerked up her Flame Empress sword, countering his fiery slash.

“Now, Lucy!” she cried, grunting against his force.

“Natsu!” Lucy called, leaping back behind Gray. “I know you’re in there! If you can hear me, please say something!”

Natsu growled when Erza held her ground against his attack. His claw closed around her sword. Erza’s eyes widened. Natsu pivoted his body abruptly, extending his wings and slamming into Erza’s side. With a resounding oof! Erza was sent skidding backward. She barely managed to keep herself upright.

Natsu slashed down with his dark claws, narrowly missing Erza’s head and threw a large, deep orange fireball directly at Gray. He barely managed to throw up a shield before the ball barreled into him, sending him careening sideways.

“You’re stronger than this, and you know it!” she cried, staying on the edge of the battle, searching for an opening. Lucy tightened her grip on her whip handle, attempting to stop her trembling hands.

Natsu turned his focus back on Erza, ignoring Lucy’s voice again, his attacks doubling in speed and ferocity. He growled when she deflected almost all of his blows. His sharp claws clanged against the metal of her blades, not hitting her a single time.

Gray let out a war cry and slammed his hands onto the cobblestone streets. A stream of ice shot from his fingertips, racing along the floor towards Natsu’s clawed feet. The ice quickly encased around his talons, rooting him to the floor. Natsu snarled, his eyes lifting to zero in on Gray.

“Come on, Flame Brain,” Gray yelled. “Snap out of it!”

Natsu kicked against the barriers at his feet. His body began to heat at an alarming rate, sending excruciating waves of heat in all directions. Lucy threw her hands to her face, shielding herself from the blast. The clamps at his feet melted almost instantly, and Natsu’s black wings flexed. He lifted off the ground and charged at Gray.

“We’re not leaving here without you, Natsu!” Erza tried, requiping into her Black Wing Armor. She raised the sword above her head, ready to jump to Gray’s defense.

Lucy slashed her arm down, sending the whip to wrap around his foot. She slammed the whip to the ground with a grunt. Natsu crashed, hard, to the ground, splintering the brick road. Lucy winced. The sound of skull hitting concrete was unmistakable.

The snarl that left his maw, the sound deep and gravely. Definitely not Natsu. He snatched at the whip wrapped around his feet, ripping it above his head taking Lucy with it. Lucy screamed. She heard Gray and Erza call her name as she slammed back to the heard. Her head smashed into the cobblestone with a sickening crack, the air forced from her lungs.

Stars exploded across her vision, shattering and shooting in every direction. The world twisted and tumbled, churning like waves in the middle of a storm. She felt pressure then a sharp snap in her arm, a cry flying past her lips before she could catch it. She clenched her jaw, trying to block out the pain.

Someone shrieked, the sharp noise piercing through the loud ringing in her ears. Lucy lifted her head, dropping it a moment later.

Lucy lolled her head to the side, toward the scream. A large black blur lifted a red figure and tossed it haphazardly to the side, shooting into the air a moment later. Lucy blinked and blinked, but the dots would not fade. A deep voice bellowed and stared up at where the blur had shot. Lucy clenched her eyes shut, hoping that her vision would finally focus.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Natsu dive into Gray. Gray let out a deep, gravelly bellow as he used his Ice Make abilities to keep himself upright. He coated his fist with ice and aimed it at the demon. Natsu dodged with inhuman speed. He threw a hand out and snatched Gray’s other fist before it made contact. His golden eyes glinted. Gray faltered. Before he could blink, Natsu threw a flaming punch into his gut, sending Gray flying into a building fifty feet away.

“Please, Natsu! This isn’t like you!” she called weakly.

Natsu snarled and turned his dark gaze onto her. Then there was only her.

Lucy’s stomach twisted sharply, and adrenaline shot through her like a bullet. She was the last line of defense against Natsu’s reign of terror. She had to throw everything she had at him. She turned on her stomach, the world finally starting to even out. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself onto her elbow. She wouldn’t let her fear show. She had to be strong, if not for herself but for him.

She stared back at him, firmly holding her gaze with his flashing golden one. He smirked again, egging her on. He lifted a shadowy claw to his mouth and licked something, blood, from its tip.

“And then there was one. If an Ice Make wizard and the great Titania couldn’t take me down, a Celestial Spirit mage who can hardly move should be a piece of cake,” Natsu taunted, strutting his way towards her.

“I know you’re still in there. I know you can hear me,” Lucy grunted, making sure that he heard every word she said despite her frail voice.

“I’m getting very tired of your playing the hero thing you’re doing right now. Really starting to piss me off,” Natsu said, the smirk dropping from his face. He crouched beside her head, cocking his head. Analyzing her.

Lucy gulped. She steeled herself for her next attack. She knew she was likely not going to make it out of here, but if she could disturb him, somehow make Natsu fight back against this thing, it would be worth it. She took a breath.

“What would Igneel think?” Natsu tensed. “He would be ashamed to see you beaten without much of a fight!”

His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His wings jerked open. He roared, a gruesome, oily noise and hardly gave Lucy time to think before he pounced on her and flipped her over. His claws closed over her throat.

“How dare you call me a coward?” the beast bellowed, squeezing.

She glared up at him, ignoring the pounding in her ears. She felt the blood rush to her face. She gulped at air desperately, wishing his knees weren’t pinning her hands down. The gold in his eyes faltered, flickering to onyx for all but a moment. Natsu shook his head violently. The hand loosened and Lucy gasped.

She turned her eyes to meet his as he raised a large blackened claw above his head. Lucy’s eyes slammed shut. Natsu snarled as he brought it down.

Warm liquid dripped down the side of her face, tracing a line down the side of her neck. She waited in anticipation for the pain of an attack that didn’t seem to come. More warm droplets trailed down the side of her cheek, her neck, and even down her shoulder. For a moment, she wondered if it was raining, if suddenly he had moved and it had begun to rain.

But then she tasted more blood, more iron in her mouth and tried to open her eyes. She knew that he had, in fact, cut her, carved a deep wound from the top of her brow to the tip of her shoulder and that one of her eyes would not open. The warm substance wasn’t rain. It was blood. Her blood.

It registered then. The pain, the excruciating pain that rippled through her like a wave beating against an ocean. It felt as though someone had placed a hot dagger at her brown and carved a sharp line down the length of her form. Her eyes flashed white, and she screamed.

She screamed so loud that her ears rang. She let out a scream that tore and ripped and clawed its way up her throat and out her mouth. She screamed so loud that even Natsu recoiled. She thrashed beneath his clawed feet pressing her arms into the stone street, the pain just not subsiding even a fraction. It just kept crashing into her, wave after wave of white hot, spasming pain.

Tears streamed from her eyes, the salty liquid stinging more as it leaked from her unopened eye and touched the fresh wounds. Her screams turned shrill, like nails on a chalkboard, making the hair on her arms stand on end. More tears spilled over her cheeks, creating a seemingly infinite cycle of agony.

Natsu roared somewhere above her. Thick hands pressed back down on her neck, instantly cutting her off. Lucy choked and gasped, desperately scrambling for air. Her body thrashed again, more violent, more desperate than before. This time it did it out of a need to live rather than pain. Lucy could do nothing but desperately gasp and try and gulp down air she desperately needed in her lungs. Blood raced past her ears, trying to get as much oxygen to her brain as possible.

Natsu said something above her, but the ringing in her ears overwhelmed her senses. She could only focus on one thing. Air. Air. She needed air.

“Natsu,” she choked out. One final attempt. One last try. “Please.”

Her limbs grew cold and limp, her thrashings slowing to a stop. Lucy struggled to keep her eyes open. Her chokes turned into pitiful whimpers. Blackness encroached on the edges of her vision. Her lungs screamed for air, for something, for anything.

She looks up at Natsu one last time and swears she see his onyx eyes flash into focus again.

Someone called her name from somewhere behind her.

Then, as suddenly as he was on her, the weight loosened. Lucy gasped and gulped and clawed at any air she could get her hands on. Color returned to her vision, but her limbs still refused to function.

She felt her body go weightless, felt her body being pulled from the ground, her feet leaving it. And then the hand around her neck was gone too. But she was still weightless. Still flying. Air whooshed passed her violently, too quick for her to be falling.

She slammed into a hard surface and crumpled into a heap.

And then there was nothing.

#ft fanfiction #nalu #nalu angst week #nalu-angst-week #angst #summer writes

55 notes · View notes

daydream-hobii · 6 years

Text

Roses & Thorns | Chapter 14

Genre: Hybrid!AU, fluff, angst

Pairing: Hybrid!OT7 x Female!Reader | Alpaca!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Fox!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Bear!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Bunny!Jungkook

Summary: Y/N is a rehabilitator of hybrids who have been abused or being sold for auction. It’s an illegal thing to do, but she feels strongly that this is the right thing. For many years, she has saved hundreds of hybrids who have needed her help, even for her young age, and six of them decided to stay with her. Namjoon, who was the second saved, initiated an intimate relationship, which Taehyung, who was the first saved, wanted in on. Over time, some of the hybrids that came after the two wanted to join in on the relationship. Now, Y/N has saved a very rare fox hybrid named Hoseok, who is very curious and even more broken. He has the choice to stay with these people and maybe join their relationship or move on to a rehabilitated district where he can have a life of his own. What will he choose?

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Assault, Suicide & Mental Illness! Read with Caution <3 | Suggestions of Smut? (I’m not good at writing smut, so it’s just implied… ^_^); Profanity

Word Count: 1,520

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19 // Chapter 20 [FINAL] //

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chapter 14! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I love getting feedback! I hope you enjoyed it!!! ^_^

I came back to reality as Namjoon started screaming, the crashing of glass filling my ears. I ran over to him, throwing my arms around his waist, desperate to calm him down. He slumped to the ground, my body following. He put his head in his hands, sobbing. I cried into his back, my thoughts going to the worst possible scenario.

“I’ll kill him,” He choked out, his ears flat to his head, tail wrapped around my waist.

“I know, Joonie…” I replied, sniffling.

My phone began to ring, but I ignored it. Once it stopped, it almost immediately began again. I looked, and saw it was Emily. I sniffled as Namjoon turned around, hugging my waist and crying into my shoulder. I quickly answered, knowing she could help, but she didn’t let me speak.

“Y/N! What the hell happened?” She said, panicked.

“My boys were taken…” I cried, choking out a sob. “I have Namjoon, but the rest are gone.”

“No, Y/N. Taehyung escaped, he’s here with me. He’s beaten up pretty bad, but I have Woojin fixing him up. He’s pretty shaken up, you need to get here, fast,” She said. Namjoon shot up, a look of hope in his eyes as he stared at me. I stood up as well, walking to the door and grabbing my keys, telling her we were on our way.

When we arrived at Emily’s house, Namjoon didn’t even let me stop the car before he opened the door, running into the house as if it were his own. I didn’t even turn off my engine as I ran in, seeing Namjoon hugging Taehyung. They were both stood there, sobbing, and I couldn’t help but to let out a squeak, tears falling. They both looked at me, letting me join in the hug. Emily was right – Taehyung was beat up. He had cuts and bruises all over his face and arms. Blood seeped through his t-shirt, making me wince as I stared at him. I touched his face lightly, making him wince as I shook my head.

“This is all my fault,” I choked out, making Taehyung shake his head, turning serious.

“No, it’s not. Don’t you dare blame yourself,” He said, his deep voice chilling to the bones.

“Tae, what happened?” Namjoon asked, making him wince. “I know it’s hard, but the others don’t have time.”

“Well… Shortly after you two left, a van pulled up to the house. We didn’t have time to hide, they just came in. They had poles that shocked us, and chains. They were in all black and were really buff. Jin and Yoongi told us to run and tried to fight them off, but the house was surrounded,” He rambled, furrowing his brow as he desperately tried to remember.

“Did they have any sort of symbol? On there clothes or van?” Emily asked, joining us. She had a determined look on her face, and I knew she could help us.

“Yes, it was some sort of… a lightening bolt?” He questioned, looking at me.

“That’s my dad,” I growled, running a hand through my hair. “He always thought he was some sort of God, so he made the business a lightning bolt like Zeus.”

“They were big, and had a lot of muscles… Jungkook jumped in front of me before I was hit with the pole… He passed out from the shock!” Taehyung cried, making me grip his hand as tears streamed down my own cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I had to leave them….”

“Tae, it’s okay. Remember, you left to help them, right? If you weren’t here, we couldn’t find them,” Namjoon said, grasping his other hand. Taehyung sighed, nodding.

“Jin told me it was okay…. They put bags on our heads and tied us up. Yoongi and Hoseok didn’t make it easy…. I remember Jin just took it, and Jimin was crying…. They threw us into the back of the van because we started to move…. Jin was able to get me untied, and I was able to take off the bag. He told me to run… go to Emily’s…. I shouldn’t have left,” He rambled, letting out a broken sob, making me cling to him, hugging him tight.

“Tae, this is important. Did the men talk about anything? Like where they were taking you??” I could hear Namjoon’s voice quiver, and knew tears were streaming down his face. I reached back, gripping his hand tight.

“Wait, yes. They said something about Hoseok and Jin being rare, like they were very expensive…. They said many wealthy people would want them,” He said, pulling away and eyeing us.

“The auction,” I said, eyes filled with hope. “Jinwoo will want to sell them off, maybe get a profit. He’ll want them gone as soon as possible, so they’ll be auctioned off tonight.”

“We’re going, right?” Tae asked, scooting closer to me.

“Tae, you need to stay here,” Namjoon said, eyeing his bruises and cuts.

“Bullshit, they’re my family too!” Taehyung shouted, standing up, making us both stand as well.

“Tae, we know. You can come,” I said, turning to a conflicted Namjoon. “He was there, he could smell everything. He’s a big help.”

“What can I do?” Emily asked, eyeing me.

“Have a car ready for us, enough to fit eight plus luggage. We’re moving to the rehabilitated counties,” I said, making her nod and get on her phone, most likely to start making calls. My name was well known in the hybrid rescue, I’m sure she’ll find the people I work with to help.

“All of us?” Tae asked, his tail twitching in happiness, making me think he was back to normal.

“All of us,” I replied, nodding.

We decided to go back home. There was no way Jinwoo would try anything with me around, and they already ransacked the house. What was the point? Come back for Tae? I’d make sure that wouldn’t happen. We had to pack up some luggage for each boy plus ourselves if we wanted to get out of there, Emily and her hybrids would be by the next day to grab them while we went to get our boys.

When we pulled up, an all too familiar car was in the driveway, making Namjoon and Taehyung growl, their hair on their ears and tails sticking up. I glared, an angry, hard exterior pulling through to my surface. We all got out, even Taehyung, who had a bit of fear in his eyes, but only a bit. We walked in, and there stood Jinwoo, a clean suit on his body with two bodyguards on each side of him.

“Ah, there’s that tricky tiger,” Jinwoo said, pulling a grin that the devil would tremble at.

“What more could you want?” I asked, eyeing him. “You know everything. Taehyung and Namjoon are registered, you can’t take them.”

“Ah, yes, I know. Now that there is no proof that you harbor illegal hybrids, I could be arrested,” He said, chuckling.

He stepped forward, causing Namjoon and Taehyung to growl. The two bodyguards took out handguns, making me grit my teeth. I reached into the large plant pot next to the door, pulling out a shot gun and cocking it, making Namjoon and Taehyung squeak in surprise.

“You fucking try it,” I growled, glaring at him. Jinwoo seemed impressed, making me grit my teeth.

“The old plant pot trick, huh? You’re just an illegal girl, aren’t you?” He said, squinting his eyes.

“My hybrid thought it was a good idea to hide guns around here, just for pretty boys like you,” I snapped back, glaring harder.

“You know guns are illegal,” He said, sighing and looking at the pictures all over the floor, as if this affair bored him.

“I guess I’m just a criminal, then, along with your two guards here,” I replied, eyeing the two guards.

“These two have trained for years for something like this, they can take you out before you even pull the trigger,” Jinwoo said, cockily.

“Oh, so your research on me runs short, huh?” I replied, making him squint his eyebrows. “I’ve trained with only the best in the arts of hand-to-hand combat, using a gun, and don’t forget about the knives. I know the body like the back of my hand, where I can cut you to give you a fast death… or a slow one.”

“You’re bluffing,” He growled, staring at me.

“You really want to find out?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking, causing his eyes to darken. “Harboring hybrids is a dangerous business; a girl has to know how to protect herself….”

“Fine, we’ll leave,” He said, nodding to the bodyguards. I nodded to the side, making Taehyung and Namjoon follow me so they could move to the front door. He smirked at me, making me want to pull the trigger.

“Good luck finding them, Y/N,” He said, chuckling. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” With that, he left, and I dropped the shotgun, almost shaking. We were going to find them, even if it was the last thing we did.

881 notes · View notes

readysetjo · 7 years

Text

PS/ SS - Chapter 5 - Diagon Alley

@alluringcliche @feelsandotps @wearywanderer @xingshining

I’m wondering what personal story I’m going to share today!

Also, I’m sleepy I hope that doesn’t affect (?)/ effect (?)/ change/ manipulate/ twist/ adjust (I am avoiding looking up the difference between the words “affect” and “effect” for the 100th time in my life) my normal chapter liveblog. I was dedicated to writing this tonight, tho.

I forget that they didn’t automatically leave after that tense evening discussion

I have a headcanon that the pouches on The Daily Prophet’s owls have a charm that vanishes the money and deposits it into a Gringotts bank account. Otherwise the birds would get so heavy-ladened after a while and I imagine that the Prophet’s bird’s would be frequently stolen from. Imagine working at the Prophet’s owlery. That would be a little fun for a time.

Hagrid just trusts Harry with rummaging through his coat to find his money. He’s either really sleepy or far too trusting.

“yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob [Gringotts].” /// lol Hagrid so had a chat with Harry about this memory later.

I’d like to see more of the tense dynamic between Fudge and Dumbledore. I bet Fudge would have been so funny to watch come undone under the weight of being Minister and slowly going from asking DD for help nearly every day to telling the reporters/ editors at the Prophet to slip in snide comments about DD. I want to watch that train wreck.

Hagrid’s reasoning to why the Wizarding World is separate from the Muggle one is kind of odd to me. “everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems.” Like honestly the actual result of that would probably be a capitalistic one in which the average magical person would be able to sell their magical “solutions to problems” for money. This would just lead to the magical community becoming very wealthy. That’s not really a bad thing (on the surface/ from a wizard’s POV). I think the most logical answer is: “Our community is so different from the Muggle one that creating rules to enforce for the two societies coinciding would be so difficult that we keep ourselves separate in order that we can both create individual systems that works for each society.Also, we are trying to avoid causing strain with a power imbalance.”

“Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up” /// I grew up very short with a very tall dad, so I really can relate haha. I would have to occasionally remind him how my stride was two of his.

I wonder what Hagrid was knitting.

I feel like the HP fandom should have had a running joke by now that any deserted store in a strip mall was the entrance to a wizarding community. Tho it seems like the entrance was not visible or had a like “don’t look at me” charm on it rather than how St. Mungo’s was hidden behind a deserted shop.

“Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry’s shoulder and making Harry’s knees buckle.” /// That I can’t relate to lol.

“I’m all of a flutter.” /// What a funny and great way to put that lol.

Dedalussssssss!!! One of Harry’s first magical “acquaintances” XD and the truly brave soul who (along with Hestia Jones) watched the Dursley’s for nearly a year. I don’t usually make the joke but... “Rubeus Dedalus Potter you were named for-”

“’What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?’ [asked Harry] ‘D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,’ muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he’s rather not think about it.’”/// 1. I died. I forgot about this line! 2. He went on a year-long break from work to do some research. That is so Ravenclaw. 3. What if Quirrell became known for wearing beanies instead of a turban? 4. I forgot how it was possible that Quirrell could shake Harry’s hand right now. 5. I forgot why Harry’s scar didn’t hurt right now. (I’ll probably remember soon enough, but I wouldn’t mind reminders if I don’t.) 6. You know those words that trip you up for no good reason? Yeah, well I’ve got quite the arsenal of those, but one of them happens to be “squirrel” (why? idk?) and this man helped me remember that the word has two “R”s in it.

“Harry wished he had about eight more eyes.” /// Harry Spider

I wonder what is the cool new broomstick model right now.

Gringotts colors are scarlet and gold and I never noticed before. I think they wore black in the movies or just like nice work clothes. Also, I would like to go to Shell’s Cottage and hear Bill and Fleur tell me all about how Gringotts got started. I am fascinated.

The poem on the door about stealing from Gringotts is so funny to me bc I am just thinking about how cabs have like signs that say that the driver doesn’t carry over a certain amount of money. These are two very different philosophies of deterring a thief.

Three times JKR foreshadowed to us just how stupid it would be to try and rob Gringotts.

Our Muggle banks and safety deposit boxes are so much more efficient and I am grateful.

Hey there Griphook! Well be seeing you again!

So Dumbledore would have told all the professors what they were hiding in Hogwarts, due to asking them for their help to do it right? But did they know why they were hiding the Sorcerer’s Stone? Did they too know that they were trying to suppress Voldemort’s return? I kinda hope they did. It seems to be that Hagrid did.

I like to imagine these seemingly perpetually grumpy goblins actually love their twisty roller coaster-ish cart rides under London.

“Harry didn’t know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money.” /// So happy for him!!

Hagrid told him to get his uniform first almost like a parent haha.

Reminder that Harry disliked Draco for his awful character right from the very beginning and that Draco set himself up for the foul life he ended up with by never seeing the goodness in others as something that he should want too. (I don’t say this to any of you four Questers bc I think you all would agree, but I just had to say it.)

I like how popular and big football is that even wizards know what it is and use it to compare to Quidditch. OMG I’m so stupid I’m just remembering one of the best eras in post-HP publishing history and getting emotional about it. Does anyone remember the 2014 Quidditch World Cup. I obsessed over it that summer and read every word that Ginny wrote and ahhhhh I miss it. I miss Quidditch and Pottermore publishing updates with chapter art and meta and character backgrounds. What a golden era post-DH.

I like that Hagrid said that toads went “out of fashion years ago” so that means that, at one point, toads were vogue and that’s amazing by itself. I bet the professors hated that time. The constant low croaking coming from everyone’s pockets.

“For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in [Ollivanders] seemed to tingle with some secret magic.” /// I love that feeling when it happens in real life. Like when you discover a cute little stream on a hike or a beautiful old library.

I sometimes wish I had the memory of Ollivander.

The second “you have your mother’s eyes” drink!

Ollivander had some personal space invading issues. (And it irks me.)

I know I already said that I want to know about like three things in this liveblog, but I’m desperate to know more about wandlore too. I want more facts.

I kind of like that the more difficult it was to find Harry a wand, the happier Ollivander got. That’s a good attitude to have right there. That’s how you know you love your job.

Voldemort’s wand was 13 inches and Harry’s was 11 inches. That means that there’s a chance that Voldemort’s phoenix’s core feather was longer than Harry’s and, therefore lower on Fawkes’ tail.

Gosh wands are expensive.

Goodbye, Ollie, see you later.

Why did they not buy a trunk in Diagon Alley? Where did Harry even get a trunk that he carries around with him for 7 years? These are the real plot holes! jkjkjk

That chapter was a little longer than usual. But since this one has less chapters in it, we are actually almost one third through with it. That’s wild!

#qhpra #me being me #harry potter #ps/ ss #ps/ ss liveblog #hp liveblog

28 notes · View notes

shadedsoldier-blog · 7 years

Photo

Lynx Task #1 : Arrival

“Whoever said that loss gets easier with time was a liar. Here's what really happens: The spaces between the times you miss them grow longer. Then, when you do remember to miss them again, it's still with a stabbing pain to the heart. And you have guilt. Guilt because it's been too long since you missed them last.”

Death CW, Implied Murder/Assassination CW

Lights flickered in the quiet of the ER waiting room. A few nurses sat behind the corner eyeing him in a judgemental fashion. As if he was the worst human being alive, a bug that deserved to be squashed with the dark satisfaction of doing the right thing. He didn’t need their self-righteous attitude to know he had screwed up. He was well aware of that on his own. Thank you very much. He hadn’t been there to protect them and this was the result.

Kieran Byrne typically considered himself a self-sufficient man. He had a nice apartment in a fairly decent neighbourhood where he lived with his girlfiend and three year old son. Admittedly, neither of which were things he had ever envisioned to be present in his life. It had all been purely accidental-- falling in love with the bartender of one of his more frequent haunts, giving up his life on the road to settle down and assume the identity of a normal person; Cillian O'Dwyer. But it had proven to be a happy accident, one that allowed him to live and begin to forget the things he had survived.

The Shade had simply faded into the background noise of the criminal underworld, all lines of contact to hire his skills for various criminal activity drying up out of the blue. Some thought him dead, others thought it proof that he never existed in the first place. Whichever was the truth, his subtle presence in the underground was set aside for something simpler. Kieran should have anticipated that it was all too good to be true.

He’d been out securing one of his bunkers left operational just in case he ever felt the need to return to the life he’d stepped away from. Walking up the stairs and onto the street he slotted the battery back into his phone and powered it up. A sudden stream of information filled the previously empty screen.

:// 3 Missed Calls - Sarah

:// Missed Call Unknown Caller

:// 3 New Voicemails

Frowning at the screen he swiped his thumb across the voicemail and lifted his phone to his ear, heart picking up as the automated voice spoke skipping ahead to the message the hushed panicked tone of his partner echoing across the line.

Message one left at eight-thirty eight PM beeeeep “Ian? I don’t know where you are but we need you, I don’t know who they are but they’re looking for you. They’re here in the house, they don’t know me or Aiden are here but-- First chance I get we’re taking the car and getting out of here. Please phone me back when you get this. You know where to meet us.” Message end.

Message two left at eight-fifty nine PM beeeeep “Ian? Oh my god, Ian--- they’re following us. Aiden’s in the car we’re on the road but I don’t we’re going to get away from them-- Please, please pick up we need you.”

Message three left at nine-eleven PM beeeeep “Hello? Mister O’Dwyer? My name is Doctor Harris, you were listed down as the emergency contact in the phone of a one Sarah Jenkins. I can’t seem to reach you and will try again in an hour, I don’t wish to alarm you although I would advise you should come to New York Presbyterian emergency department as soon as possible. An accident involving your partner and child occurred on the highway out of the city and they were just brought in along with another set of drivers. I will update you with more details once you arrive.”

No new messages. Please press one to repeat, two to delete---

By the end of the three messages Kieran’s blood had run cold, hands trembling he almost dropped the phone as he shut it down and shoved it into his pocket. There was barely any time to react, not that he was particularly in the state to react to anything the only thought on his mind being the look of fear in Sarah and Aiden’s tired eyes. It was past his bedtime after all. Fear clutched his every sense as he tried to focus on the destination, his heart beating wildly, breathing heavy the shadows almost violently engulfing him as his form melded from the street corner on which he’d been stood not caring for who saw him in his rush through the darkness of the city practically bolting out of the side alley near to the hospital. Fear carrying him swiftly through the rotating doors until he skidded to a halt by the nurse’s desk out of breath and oh so fearful.

“Sarah Jenkins-- and Aiden O’Dwyer, I was---” he heaved a breath trying to calm down “I was told they were here by a Doctor Harris?. Oh lord please tell me they’re here.”

The nurse behind the desk looked up at his dishevelled appearance calculatingly before tapping the search into the database. “All it says here is that they’ve both been taken into the operating theatre. I’m sorry, you’ll have to go to the waiting room and sign the forms and paperwork until any further updates come through. I’ll alert doctor Harris to your arrival.”

:// 8 hours later

With paperwork done, Kieran was left alone with his own thoughts. It wasn’t a pleasant experience frankly. He usually avoided it at all cost, because what was the point of dwelling in the past? He hadn’t let himself do it in so long because he had something worth living for. People worth living for, people to take care of. Sarah and Aiden were his priorities, which meant there was little time left for him to feel sorry for himself.

Unfortunately, now it seemed that he had enough spare time to actually do it for once. The thinking thing. It wasn’t going well.

Kieran was a mess, he’d done everything in his power but the anxiety was ratcheting up every second that passed. A frustrated groan left his lips as he drew his hand through his hair, elbows pinning his jacket to his knees, where it rested crumpled. His wrinkled, pale blue shirt was left untucked, first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. He’d lost so much in his life already, his parents, his younger brother and sister and the possibility of losing the woman he loved along with their son in the same day because of him, his history was just... He let out a breath and pressed his face into his palms for once in his life uttering a prayer to whatever deity above might just be listening. Aiden had his whole life ahead of him, he was too young for any of this. Thanks to his negligence and error of details his family had ended up here. Ended up in the hospital fighting death, just as all the others loved ones in his life had before.

I promise, if they make it through this I’ll leave. Find somewhere new, and keep them safe by staying away. Just please. Please let them pull through.

Rubbing his face tiredly he glanced at the still closed ER doors, back aching from the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room unable to bring himself to get up and pace. He felt so drained. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he arrived. How much longer would it take anyway? What were they doing? Were they scared? Or even conscious? He seemed to be drifting to sleep before. The thoughts just kept swirling in his head over and over again.

The sound of double doors opening caused him to look up breaking from his morbid thoughts, his cynical nature unwilling to allow him to be hopeful for anything. And perhaps it was for the best because the look on the doctor’s face was enough to say everything the next words did.

“I’m so sorry Mister O’Dwyer... We did everything we could but the injuries they sustained were too severe. If there’s---”

Something about that look made Kieran break inside the rest of the doctor’s words fading out to the ringing in his ears. He felt his eyes burn, filling up with tears more quickly than he thought possible. Swallowing thickly he shoved himself stiffly to his feet shoving past the doctor, heart aching he couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t afflicted with some disease, slowly clawing itself apart in his chest. He took a trembling breath, looking away with fisted hands as he walked away but it was just as he turned the corner he caught the tail end of a conversation .

“Hear those other drivers survived--- shouldn’t be that way. Two men for a woman and child. Bleedin’ disgraceful if you ask me. They’re putting them up in recovery their items are being put in storage.”

In a moment Kieran felt his grief turn to something else, a familiar addictive urge of dark tendencies creeping its way back into his mind. It was familiar, an urge to hunt, maim and kill. He’d done it plenty of times before that it didn’t even surprise him anymore. If he was honest it was quite the urge to experience and as addictive and all consuming as any other drug if not more potent. Making his mind up Kieran swiped away his tears subtly glanced around noting no cameras on the desk. It wouldn’t take long to find...

Blue eyes narrowed and darker than before. His posture straightened up, hands curling along with his tension-filled body. There was an edge to him now, a dangerous one who soon enough he found himself hunched over the keyboard shadows melded around his hands as makeshift gloves searching the database noting the information logged for the two patients being transferred and making a quick note of it on a nearby notepad. Ripping off the page he shoved it into his pocket and high-tailed it for the door. He’d caught onto the thread, now he needed to start pulling to untangle the overall bundle.

They would get what was coming for them.

:// 4 months later

It was a lovely night. The city was alive as Kieran steered his motorcycle through the lanes of traffic, cruising down roads and watching people go about their lives. Oblivious for now. He frowned under his helmet as a few couples walked along the shopfronts - although most were closing down now - window shopping with their heads closed together, murmuring and smiling at each other.

Kieran watched as he passed them, and couldn’t help the envy he felt when he did look at them. When he looked at any couple; recalling just what it felt like. What it was like to have someone look at you with admiration and respect, instead of anger, loathing, or even hatred. With mutual understanding.

With love.

There was no point staying here, not anymore. No point in watching the world go by in a wave of colour and cacophony. Lingering here wouldn’t do any good. Which explained why his route soon took him straight out of the city. There was no destination in mind. His home packed up and put away in boxes; left to be forgotten and only the bags loaded to the bike containing the things he needed to get by. Maybe Canada would be an idea...

Passing a coffee shop the sudden thought of a drink caused him to pull off the road and kick the stand on his bike down. Climbing off he took off his gloves heading for the door but paused at the occurrence within. Glancing at the news reporter on the TV, silence from the clientele all of whom seemed attuned to the breaking news report.

“Good evening and as we come on the air tonight, America is just coming to grips with what happened here in the early hours of this morning. A massacre here at this warehouse behind me, where several notorious gang members were brutally slaughtered by an unknown assailant. No details have been released thus far regarding the investigation or the individual or group of individuals responsible for this violent act. Police arrived at the scene shortly after gunfire was heard from the site by witnesses but so far no organisation or individual has claimed responsibility for this mass murder. We will keep you updated with news regarding this developing event, if you have any information at all regarding this please contact the number on the screen.”

Suddenly reconsidering the thought of getting a coffee Kieran backtracked, soon enough back on the road and continuing on his drive to no where. He’d driven for twenty-minutes or so when the bike spluttered, “for fucks sake” he groused looking down at the almost empty dial. Hadn’t he filled up before he left? God damn it.

Spotting a slip road he could only assume would lead to a house or somewhere that he might be able to refuel Kieran sighed, pulling on the handlebars and redirecting the bike along the route. That was until he ended up coming to a halt in the grounds of a large building, an ornate sign nearby catching his attention. Lynx Academy. Great. A stupid private school, But with the state of his tank he needed some assistance of some sort, maybe someone here would have something to help him out?

Shaking his head Kieran twisted the throttle and drove into the very place he would stay for the next eight years of his life.

#lynx.task #Got carried away #it's me #whoops #Oh well #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#story of my life #self para #In which Kieran's life got a lot more tragic #because tragic™ is just my life goals tbh #you can also tell i was getting tired towards the end of this #ahaha #it's like 1am #what is life

3 notes · View notes