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trinity-mia · 4 months

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a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.1 kronos ate the kids

warnings : kronos... eating his kids

word count : 3.7k

0.1 kronos ate the kids... yummy ( ? )

-- sixteen years later

In the absence of the sun, the day could've been observed as night as dark storm clouds gathered overhead. I was glad I'd checked the weather before getting on my motorcycle— I would just barely miss getting caught in the storm.

Normally, in New York City, you only drove yourself places if you were one of two things: rich or stupid (although, to be honest, it's astounding how often those two things coincide). The traffic of Manhattan is unbearable, but if you're that much of a show off, and you really want people looking at your car, you drive. However, while I did fall under the "rich" category (thank you random casting agent in Central Park when I was 2... I guess?), I wasn't driving because I wanted people to see the Harley my mom had gotten me for my 16th birthday the August before. Being entirely honest, I just needed a break, and sometimes yelling at people about how awful their driving is can be very therapeutic.

But the clouds unsettled me in a way that I couldn't explain. A way that had me shuffling on my Harley and shifting my weight much more than my ADHD would normally have made me do. The weather had been off since I'd come back from Philly in December, so I was almost used to it at that point, but it was like a sandbag had burst open in the pit of my stomach, letting all of the particles of sand spill out, every time I looked up at the sky.

Still, there was no use complaining about the weather. If anything, I should've been complaining about the fact that I was still in the exact same spot I was ten minutes ago. Sometimes the City That Never Sleeps is really a pain in the ass.

Danny was going to give me a real hard talking to if I was late for this field trip. It was supposed to be to some Greek and Roman history museum in Brooklyn, but most people weren't going to learn— they were going because it got them out of class. We only had a few weeks left of school, but Christ if we all didn't want the year to end sooner rather than later. And Danny only wanted me to go because of a role I'd recently gotten playing a Spartan queen, Aerlla, as though me knowing more about Greek mythology was going to win me another Oscar.

I gave a sigh of relief as my next few turns weren't nearly as crowded. A bit of the traffic finally thinned out, so getting to school was much less difficult. Technically, with it being a boarding school and all, we weren't allowed to have our cars here. They figured we'd all try to leave and never come back if that were the case. It was only with a little extra money that I was allowed to be able to travel. No one else really got that privilege.

Luck seemed to be on my side that day and I got back to the school just as they were loading the bus for us to go on our senior's (which was a whole story in and of itself, as I was supposed to be a sophomore. Thank God for online classes) end of the year field trip. While it might be the most boring thing you've ever heard of (yes, I thought that at first, too), Mr. Brunner, the coolest teacher I've ever had, was supposed to be chaperoning all of us.

My luck ran out right after that, though, once I noticed our other chaperone was my insufferable AP calculus teacher from Georgia. She came to our school right after our first calc teacher had a nervous breakdown. She always wore a faux leather jacket and, although she was fifty, she looked like she'd drive my Harley into someone's locker whenever she wanted.

"Allie, there you are! I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it on time," my friend, Grover, called as soon as I took my helmet off. I saw Mr. Brunner check my name off of the roll call list from beside Grover.

Grimacing as I realized I wouldn't have time to run by my room to put my helmet up and therefore would have to take it with me, I replied, "We wouldn't be in New York if I wasn't almost late."

We both boarded the bus, Mr. Brunner giving me a small smile as I passed, and luckily got a seat together. Much to my chagrin, however, it was right in front of the resident douche and pain in the ass himself: Nathan Bobofit. He gave me a gross smile and I could only just keep myself from getting up and bolting as the bus started moving.

My teeth clenched together as Nathan reached around the back of my seat to grab my arm. "C'mon, Jackson, my lap's a whole lot more comfortable than sitting next to that weirdo."

I jerked my arm out of his hand as he tried pulling me up. "Don't fucking touch me," I snapped scathingly as I tried scooting as far away from him as I could.

I'd had my share of rejecting him, but God if he wasn't persistent. And gross. Really, really gross. It was sad to say, but I was used to it. People on the internet don't exactly hold back either. And being an actress and model with a big following... yeah, not the best mix. People are creepy, I've learned that lesson many times.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him this time. I swear to God, I'm not kidding," I grumbled as I felt Nathan's knee pressing into my seat, just enough for me to be able to feel.

"Don't. Allie, these are the last few weeks you have to be in high school. If you get expelled now, you won't be able to go to Columbia next year and you'll be repeating your senior year at a different school. Just get through this, a few more weeks, and you're in the clear," Grover warned me. I huffed and leaned back, grumbling a 'whatever' to keep him satisfied.

To be fair, he was right. Danny, my manager, would've been pissed at me if I managed to get expelled in my last semester of high school. He'd already done so much so I could graduate early and figure out a schedule for me to be able to go to some classes in person and finish the rest online. With how much time and effort he'd put into helping me get a good education, I'd hate to throw it all away because I couldn't keep my temper in check.

And I'd hate for TMZ and all the other awful news outlets to get word of me having got expelled because I fought someone. God, I shudder to think of the fire that the media would light under my ass. Though, I thought, maybe if they figured out why, at least Twitter would be on my side.

I was happy the trip was fairly short. I could only go so long ignoring the painfully obvious and gross comments about my body by the boys behind me. Grover and one of my cheerleader friends, Ivy, made sure they got directly behind me so Nathan couldn't. He'd been known to try things when left behind me and today I'd made a mistake by wearing a skirt. As we unloaded the bus, Mr. Brunner got us checked in and led the museum tour.

Mr. Brunner was your average middle-aged guy, except for the wheelchair he had to be in wherever he went. It was a well-known joke for everyone around the school to try and guess why he had to use it. As far as we knew, no one was correct. Mainly because no one has enough courage to ask him. Popular theory was that he got stabbed during one of his sword demonstrations and accidentally got hurt.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery. It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for over two thousand or three thousand years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top and us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, Mrs. Dodds would give me the evil eye.

Finally, I got fed up, my patience run too thin, and I snapped, "will you shut up?" at Nathan, the loudest of them all. And though I had turned towards Nathan, Mr. Brunner had stopped talking and I could tell he was looking directly at me. I could also hear a few stifled giggles coming for the rest of the senior class.

"Miss Jackson, did you have a comment?" I turned back towards him and noticed his amused expression.

"No, sir," I replied, trying to keep a blush from coming to my face.

"Do you mind telling us what this picture represents?" He asked, gesturing towards a carving right beside him. I let out an internal breath of relief. Thank God it was something I recognized.

"That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," he frowned, and I knew he was going to ask for a better explanation. "And he did this because..."

"Kronos was the King of the Titans and he didn't trust his kids, the gods, because there was a prophecy he heard that said they would overthrow him and lead the world themselves. So he ate them. Except, his wife, Rhea hid baby Zeus and gave Kronos and rock dressed in baby clothes to eat instead. Once Zeus grew up, Rhea gave Kronos a mixture of wine and mustard so he would throw up the rest of his children." There were a few disgusted outbursts at this. "Since they were immortal, they had been growing in Kronos' stomach the same way they would have. So then there was a long war between the gods and the titans and the gods ended up winning."

I heard a scoff from beside me. "This is so stupid. It's not like our job applications are gonna have 'why did Kronos eat his children' as a question you have to answer correctly to get hired," Nathan stage whispered to his friends. They snickered in response.

"And why, Miss Jackson," Mr. Brunner said, "to paraphrase Mr. Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

I sighed and racked my brain for at least a semi-logical explanation, because truthfully, I couldn't think of one. "There's always something that you can learn from history and myths passed down by generations. By listening to the stories, you can ensure you won't make the same mistakes— in this case, you learn not to let your own paranoia control you?"

He tilted his head as if debating whether or not my answer satisfied what he was looking for. He finally came to a conclusion. "Not quite the answer I was looking for, but full credit all the same. Your explanation was wonderfully done, Miss Jackson. After Kronos' children were released from his stomach, the gods teamed up together to overthrow their father. And they did so by cutting him into little pieces with his own scythe. Now on that happy note, Mrs. Dodds, could you escort us outside for lunch?"

I speed-walked out of there, Grover in tow, before Mr. Brunner could call me back in. If he needed to say something super important he could tell me outside, but I wasn't in the mood to get lectured right at that moment.

We all gathered in various groups on the steps of the museum. We were positioned in a way that would allow us to watch the traffic on Fifth Avenue. The weather still worried me as the clouds had only gotten darker, but I forced myself to ignore it once I noticed no one else was paying attention to it.

Most of the girls were gossiping in groups, most likely talking about how Gabby hooked up with a boy in our class, Tate Dare. I'd heard the story a million times— I didn't need the story again.

Being famous did have one major perk: everyone wanted to be my friend, which in turn allowed me to know all of the school's gossip before almost everyone else. The boys were trying— and failing— to pickpocket a few tourists who'd stopped in front of the museum to take pictures. Of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

I threw my head to the side, a gesture telling Grover to follow me to the fountain a little ways away, trying very hard to make it seem like we weren't part of the slightly-psycho group of teens.

"Since you're my main source of news, what's going on school-wise?" Grover asked me once we'd gotten comfortable on the fountain.

I shrugged. "Gabby, you know— the Gabriella who's on the cheer team with me— hooked up with Tate Dare. Lindsay Greene might be getting suspended for vaping in the bathrooms, but that's up in the air right now considering her daddy's a teacher. Uh... oh! Victor Ryles failed a drug test, so he can't try out for any sports next year. That's it, I think?"

"Why do you know all of this? And can I have your apple?"

I handed it to him and smirked. "Most people like me— well, they like my 'status' at the very least. If I want to know the gossip, they give me the gossip."

Grover and I laughed and he was about to say something else but was cut off by Nathan 'tripping' over a crack in the sidewalk and tossing his food right on Gover's lap.

"Oops. I got a little distracted by your beautiful eyes, Allie," he said in a faux British accent, his friends snickering behind him.

The look on his face just made me angrier and he reached out to touch my face, but never got the chance. One moment he was in front of me, the next he was sitting on his ass in the fountain, spitting out water and a few coins. The weirdest part was the whispers.

"Did you see—"

"— The water—"

"— Like it grabbed him!"

I clenched my teeth as I glared at him. I would've loved to say something super badass, and the words were on the tip of my tongue, but a strong grip on my arm kept me from saying it. I turned my glare to Mrs. Dodds, who was staring at me with the most triumphant expression. She looked as if she'd been waiting for this moment all semester.

"Now, honey—" she said, using the nickname that never failed to enrage me.

I rolled my eyes and interrupted her despite the situation I had put myself in. "Oh, whatever! What's my punishment going to be? See how long I can go without eating?" I snapped.

That apparently wasn't the correct thing to say. The triumphant fire in her eyes only burned brighter.

"Come with me."

"Wait!" Grover said, trying to force himself in between Mrs. Dodds and me, giving me a why-the-FUCK-would-you-say-something-like-that look. "It was me, I pushed him."

It wasn't the most believable lie in the world, especially considering I had much more muscle than him and it was very obvious he wouldn't have been able to push Nathan into the fountain.

Because of the roles I'd done, I had to learn a whole bunch of shit I'd never use again, which include, but are not limited to, sword fighting, hitting many bullseyes with a bow and arrow, and lots of hand-to-hand fighting. From the weight training classes I take, I can bench press about 160 pounds, give or take, and cheerleading makes throw myself upside down while spinning. Grover looked like a twig compared to me (still love you, though, Grover).

"I don't think so. Miss Jackson will come with me, and you can stay right here."

She didn't have to try hard to scare Grover, considering she already terrified him. He gave a small and stiff nod and looked at me petrified.

"Thanks for trying, G," I whispered.

He just stood paralyzed and kept glancing between Mr. Brunner and Mrs. Dodds, who was already at the front door.

Wait, what? How did she get there so fast? I shook my head and walked after her.

"Don't die in there, Jackson! Me and my friends still want to fuck you before we graduate! How about Thursday?" Nathan yelled at my turned back.

I turned, gave him my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare and a middle finger, then continued walking.

At first, I thought she was just going to make me buy Nathan a new t-shirt at the gift shop, but that didn't seem to be the case. Mrs. Dodds kept walking until we'd made it back to the Greek statues and paintings section.

She crossed her arms with her back turned towards me until I'd gotten close enough. When she turned, I stopped walking.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said after a few moments of silence.

At first, I thought she was mentioning all the random times paparazzi would show up at the front steps of Yancy Acadamy and demand my picture, but something told me that wasn't it. I decided to go for the safest option and chose to be polite.

"Yes... ma'am?"

She started making a sound from the back of her throat, almost like growling. She tugged on the cuffs of her jacket. "Did you really think you were going to get away with it?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. The only thing I could think was, what the hell? The fire grew brighter. She looked beyond mad; she looked evil. "I'll... it won't happen again... ma'am," I shot out, saying the first response that came to mind.

Thunder shook the building.

"We aren't fools, Astraea Jackson."

I flinched at the use of my real name. Virtually no one knew it, only my mother, the principal, and my manager. And usually it was because I was in trouble. I didn't like the way it rolled off her tongue.

"It was only a matter of time before you were caught. Confess to what you've done and I might choose to be merciful."

"Okay, time for a pause. What am I even confessing to? What the hell did I do that was so—"

"Time's up!"

And with that, she started changing. Her eyes turned red, her fingernails grew into talons, and her leather jacket started melting and turning into wings.

"Holy shit!" I screamed, scrambling back a few steps as she shot into the air. Thunder rumbled again.

"Allie!"

My eyes didn't shift from the winged-bat-creature-thing my calculus teacher had just turned into, but my mind registered that it was Mr. Brunner's voice. I stepped back and turned and barely had a second to catch the sword flying towards me. Once I had it in my hands I turned back towards Mrs. Dodds, who was flying overhead like a vulture.

Finally, she swooped down for the kill and I got into the stance my instructor made me do thousands of times over. Once she got close, I didn't feel any fear. It's just like a prop, do what you're supposed to and you won't get hit.

My body did the only thing that came naturally; I swung the sword.

She'd flown down in the perfect position, and the sword hit her left shoulder and passed through all the way to her right hip. She burst into a yellow powder and vaporized on the spot, leaving only the smell of sulfur and an uneasy vibe in the air.

I didn't register the sword falling out of my hand, only the overwhelming desire to get back to my group. I felt like throwing up and like an awful migraine was about to hit.

When the doors were in my sight, I sprinted the rest of the way and almost ripped the doors off their hinges to get out of there. Grover met me halfway down the steps and started to say something, but I just shook my head. I felt like I was about to pass out from the pain in my head, so there was no way I could've explained anything that had just happened to Grover.

Just as I got off the last step, Nathan intercepted my path. "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your ass, bitch. Would've gotten you prepared for the main course," he said, still dripping from his swim in the fountain.

I was about to punch his lights out, but a piercing whistle cut through the storm, re-irritating my migraine. I cried out in pain, clutching my head. I settled for shoulder-checking past him, leaving him to follow in Grover and my tracks.

Mr. Brunner gave me a concerned look as I boarded the bus, but he didn't say anything to me. Once I got to my seat I pulled a Gucci hoodie out of my bag and threw the hood over my head. Grover sat down as I was searching for some ibuprofen. I relaxed as I found it and dry swallowed three pills.

"You okay, Allie?"

I shook my head. "Migraine," I muttered and our conversation ended there. The storm raged worse and the entire bus was silent as lightning cracked across the sky and thunder quickly followed.

* * *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #fem!percyjackson #female percy jackson

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queen-ofsunflowers · 1 year

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Roundabout - Chapter 4 Preview

Caesar vs. Eleonora

As the days weathered on and the two of them were put through the wringer by Lisa Lisa and Lorenzo, Eleonora quickly learned something. Caesar Zeppeli was possibly the most insufferable person that she had ever met in her life. For one, despite having only started his Hamon training, Caesar had grown extremely arrogant. And there were grounds for it, which was what irked Eleonora the most. Lisa Lisa was right in calling the Zeppelis adequate Hamon Users. In a few short days, Caesar seemed to get the hang of the basics of Hamon and even adjusted to breathing with the mask when awake. Though Eleonora wouldn’t admit it out loud, she was slightly jealous. It had taken her longer to accomplish the same.

Not to mention, he had a habit of flirting with every single girl in Venice. At least, that’s what it felt like. Eleonora couldn’t even run errands on the mainland on her days off without him making someone swoon with a subtle wink or pretty words. How he even managed that in the breathing mask he was stuck in was what confused her the most. He never showed that side to the women who resided on the island, making it difficult to prove the point to Lisa Lisa. At least Suzie Q believed her. Though, Eleonora suspected that would have to do with the fact that she had gone to the mainland with him once or twice before, too.

The list could go on for a while. The short temper that she discovered Caesar had that lead to a bad habit of jumping to conclusions, ridiculing Eleonora’s Hamon ability whenever she made a mistake in her training and small antagonistic remarks, his height that he decided to lord over her the first time he saw her struggling to reach something on a high shelf. Eleonora herself wasn’t even that short. Caesar was just insufferably tall.

She wasn’t sure if this was just how Caesar was or if this was because of how they first met. Either way, everyone on Air Supplena could see it immediately. The tension between the two Hamon students was thick and wound tight to the point where it could very easily snap if pulled too far. That was something that Suzie Q was adamant about letting Eleonora know. She was a good friend, and didn’t want to see her getting into any trouble. So keeping calm was imperative at the moment, as difficult as it was becoming to be.

And that morning was extremely difficult. Caesar had been late to meeting with Eleonora that morning so they could begin their training that day. She bit down on the tip of her tongue when she saw him, stifling any comment that she had about his tardiness.

“I feel like shit,” Caesar said with a groan.

Eleonora hummed before replying, “You look like it.” Which wasn’t all that surprising to her. She had struggled with sleeping in that breathing mask in the beginning for quite a while, too. If Caesar had grown so used to the mask already that he was sleeping like an infant, Eleonora would honestly be amazed. He sent a glare her way for her comment.

“Girls like you shouldn’t be saying things like that.”

“Girls like me shouldn’t be doing a lot of things, and yet I’m still here.” Caesar raised a brow but made no further comment as he and Eleonora began their trek down to the courtyard to meet with their teacher. That was one thing Eleonora could be grateful for, she supposed. When he was sleep deprived, his tongue also seemed to be easier to tie.

The full chapter will be up on Ao3 on May 27th!

#aka in which nora lets her temper get the better of her #no one's having a good time here #it'll bet better later #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure au #jjba au #jjba #jjba oc #jojo oc #oc: eleonora cacciatore #caesar zeppeli #preview #fic: roundabout

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halcyon-reverie3 · 1 year

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OBCD

Chapter 4 - Distateful Delicacies

“One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalised and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered.”

― Michael J. Fox

Grades, study, smart, school, academic validation. Diya could feel herself decaying from the inside out. Her picture-perfect life was completely wrecked. The sheer amount of stress and pressure she felt on a daily basis was insufferable. She thought that life could not get any worse. Fate, however, must have been laughing when she dared to hope for more. After all, Diya thought bitterly, fate is a cruel mistress.

“Diya Elostra! Diya! Where is she- oh! Diya, Come here honey,” a bright voice called. Her head perked up as her thoughts stopped in their miserable tracks. Oh right, she thought, I’m in school. She marched to the teacher’s desk, head tilted in confusion. It was her favourite teacher, her favourite class. The only one where she truly made the effort to do well. Not like I’d fail even if I didn’t try, she thought, chuckling. Ever since she could think, Diya had always been the best, the smartest, the brightest, the top student. She didn’t have a choice. It would be the only validation that would truly satisfy her. Aside from my looks, I suppose, Diya wondered.

She reached her teacher and was taken back to find her effervescent teacher downcast. That’s weird, Diya thought. “Diya, honey, how are you feeling,” she asked. Before Diya could even formulate an answer, she spoke again, “You were doing so, so well until now. The best student, the smartest, the brightest! How did you amongst the 30 diverse students in this grade manage to get a U?” Diya was appalled. Maybe I didn’t hear her properly, she thought. “Could you please repeat that”, she asked. Despondent, her teacher said, “You got a U. Diya, I know it must be quite distressing and difficult to grasp this reality but…”

Diya’s ears started ringing, a deafening noise. Behind her, she heard the harsh laughs and snickers of other students. She looked back to see that even the least brightest of them all was laughing. She got higher than I did, the truth rattled her mind. She loathed this. Panicked, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Was the classroom always so small? Was I always this laughable? Was I always this unintelligent? Was I always this fat? Was I always…

Diya sprinted out of her classroom, out of her school, and ran home. Vision blurred as tears continuously streamed down her face, she couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to. “My friends,” she choked out, scrambling for her phone, “I forgot to tell them to send me any classwork done later on. I forgot to tell them I left.” Typing out a short message, Diya’s fingers hovered above the send button. What would they think of me if they learned about what happened, a small voice spoke, will they still like me? “No,” Diya voiced out, “they’re my friends. Of course they’ll support me, no matter what!” Clicking on send, Diya saw that she couldn’t send it no matter how many times she tried.

They unfriended me, she thought, with horror. She rushed to go on their social media page, only to see the spiteful comments and rumours they spread about her, not only to the members of her school but also to all her followers online. So vile and disgusting they were, that Diya could not suppress the shudder that racked through her frame. She watched, helpless, as her popularity decreased in the span of a few hours. Her followers converted into her haters, sending hate comments and death threats. All this in the span of a few hours.

All this because I wasn’t the smartest, Diya thought, furiously.

Dazed, she dragged her living corpse onto the scale in the corner of her bathroom. A brand new scale. Better, newer, nicer. Unlike me, she thought. Placing herself on top of the cursed balance, she waited. And she waited. “Please… let it be 32,” she begged, desperate. But the numbers on the scale never stopped increasing. 32kg, 39kg, 45kg, 49kg. Finally, the cursed numbers ended, displaying her weight as 53kg. “No”, she pleaded, “please.” She stepped off and weighed herself again. And again. And again. But the numbers never lied. She was truly 53kg. Why? WHY? WHY?! She pulled at her hair and stomped her feet, crying in frustration.

She contemplated throwing the scale again. But it isn’t that scale’s fault, she thought, I’m the problem. I’m the plague. “If I can’t lose weight, then I’ll die the fattest person alive,” she thought, determined. Grabbing all the food in her house, she forced them down her throat. Eating, eating, eating… Bile rose in her throat, but she continued shoving food down herself. She felt dizzy, she felt nauseous, she felt sick. Lightheaded, she would still never stop. Her vision became dizzy, her ears started ringing once again. Her head felt weird, as though she had cotton stuffed in it. It was horrible.

Her world turned black, as she slumped in a heap onto the cold, hard floor.

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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years

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Hi, first of all ur work is amazing and awesome, especially the Kiri fics they make me feel so warm inside :)) ANYWAYS I have a drabble idea: Katsuki with a flirty male reader from 1-B that likes to tease him and make him flustered and fired up as much as possible (kinda like Monoma but not as aggressive) and finally Katsuki decides that it’s reader’s turn to get all flustered and blushing and all that hehe :)

AH I absolutely LOVE this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to it babes, but I hope you enjoy it :3 <3 Bakugou Katsuki X Flirty Male!Reader

“You think /you’re/ tired? I heard class A had to go through ten times the beasts we did yesterday, /and/ they didn’t get to camp until five.” TetsuTetsu huffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub at his sore biceps- falling behind as the class walked to their first official day of training. “They’re probably still struggling to work as an actual unit, how disappointing,” Monoma drawled, flinching as Kendo raised a hand at him in warning- her gaze cutting back to you with an apologetic smile, but you shrugged her off. “I’m just saying, if they were half as good as everyone assumes they are, then we wouldn’t have had to make dinner for everyone /alone/ yesterday. A bunch of unimpressive slackers, the fame is definitely getting to them.” “Oh give it a rest, Monoma! I swear if I have to keep listening to your incessant whining i’m going to roundhouse you so hard you slip into an alternate dimension,” You teased, though the sharpness of your tone, and the look you fixed the other boy with managed to reduce him to nothing more than some bitter grumbling, as you jogged ahead to follow directly behind Vlad-Sensei.

“Young Y/N is right! No use in comparing yourself to a separately tiered class, what you all should be doing is preparing yourselves for a day full of grueling training!” Vlad called out to the class behind him, as they came to their final stop. Looking out across the vast fields of the camp, where class 1A was already deep in training. All of them spread out to various areas of the site, some farther out than others, you assumed due to the volatile nature of their quirks. Some out of site all together, given the specificity needed to train their quirks. “The Wild Wild Pussycats have strict regimens for you all to follow, and I as well have critiques for you all regarding your fighting style, and quirk application. Check in with them across the field first, and regroup back to me so we can begin!” “Yes Sensei!” You all chanted back, before hurrying off across the field to do as you were told. Though once you caught sight of- and really, it was more his blood curdling death screams that you noticed first, music to your ears honestly- unruly blonde spikes off in the distance, you reasoned you had at least a few minutes to spare. Giving your classmates time to get their schedules and regimes before you could swoop in for yours last minute. The heat from Bakugou’s blasts was intense- your hair blowing back each time the other boy extended his palms to the sky, screamed, and released an explosion. The air felt thick, the scent of sweaty flesh, and deep, rich caramel wafting against your face, heady, and thick, with each blast. It was intoxicating. The closer you got, the more your cheeks flushed- though it had nothing to do with the heat anymore. Up close, or as close as you could get without being blown back entirely, that is- the more handsome Bakugou became. Pinched, angry expression and all. His front fringe of hair hanging low on his forehead, dripping sweat down onto his cheeks, and then onto the exposed upper half of his chest, bared due to his low rising tank top. When was Bakugou not absolutely breathtaking, you wondered idly, as you reached into your backpack for a bottle of water, and whistled loudly between blasts to catch the blonde's attention. Though the glare he fixed you with as your eyes met almost, almost deterred you from closing the distance between you both, it didn’t quite reach the innermost parts of your brain, meant for rational thought. “What the hell do you want!? Can’t you see i’m busy? Take your ass back to your class, extra!” Bakugou shouted, gaze falling to the bottle of water in your hand, before he focused back in on his task, baring his teeth in pain as the boiling water engulfed his hands. But you were too close now, it was too risky, and before you could think to back away on your own, Bakugou was crowding up against you. Spinning around on his heels and blasting in the opposite direction, back to you now. Shoving you backwards so hard with his own body you fell to the ground. Hissing as you landed on a particularly sharp rock. “See what you did?! I could’ve accidentally taken someone else out because of you! Fucking...gimme that,” Bakugou growled, shaking his hands of the smoke from his blast, before bending down to snatch the chilled bottle of water from your hand with one of his- his other reaching down to take hold of the front of your shirt, and tug you back up to stand next to him. “Always in my way!” Bakugou hissed, before throwing his head back and chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Wiping at his mouth roughly, he turned to you slightly, noting the mischievous smile on your face, and the dirt on your shorts. “Tch...what?” He asked, knowing he was walking himself right into a trap. “Just admiring the view,” You sing-songed, skirting around his sudden extended fist easily, and dancing around the boy to get a good look at his training clothes. “It’s not everyday I get to see UA’s own Bakugou Katsuki in the midst of an intense training session. All sweaty, and bulking- muscles just….grr,” You laughed, holding your hands up in front of your face as you growled and made pawing motions at the other boy- bursting into a fit of laughter ass he reeled back, blush high on his cheeks, fingers twitching with the urge to blas your fucking face off. “You’re an insufferable piece of!-” “What I can’t seem to wrap my head around, is how you have such a big chest, such defined shoulders, and such a teeny, tiny waist,” You sighed, cutting Bakugou off with your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side curiously as you scanned him up and down. “Your tits are bigger than most of the girls in your class, ya know,” You added, as if an afterthought, waving a hand passively at the thought, though you couldn’t help but grin as Bakugou charged you- dragging you up by the front of your shirt again, and pinning you to the barrel of boiling water. One hand holding your head down near the bubbling surface, and one right next to your ear, sparking with unlit nitroglycerin. “I. Don’t. Have. Tits. You. Shitty. Extra.” Each word was laced with venom, husky and full of rage right next to your ear, and god. Was it fucked up you were kind of turned on? Probably. About as fucked up as it was to be genuinely attracted to Bakugou in the first place, you supposed. Oh well. Not much to be done about it now. “Say that to the mounds pressing up against my back right now, babe,” You teased, turning your head to face Bakugou, your noses barely brushing as you leaned in as best you could, given the hand in your hair- mouth curling into a knowing smirk as Bakugou’s face twisted back and forth- confusion, rage, annoyance, misunderstanding...want. “I’m sure your teacher would be thrilled to see you over here keeping one of my students from his training, instead of focusing on your own abilities,” Someone sighed from your right, and both you and Bakugou’s head whipped up to see Aizawa leaning against a tree, staring at the both of you with the most bored expression you could imagine someone having. “Tried to get the loser away from me, but he’s as persistent as the rest of his annoying class,” Bakugou huffed, letting you go, but not before pushing you in the direction of his teacher roughly- crackling his knuckles out in front of himself, and shaking his hands out. Prepared to continue his training. Though thoughts of your stupid face, so close to his- scent of your shampoo, and minty breath still searing his nose made him a trillion times more annoyed then he’d already been. The color of your eyes stuck with him the most though. So clear. So shiny. Full of authority, of mirth, and something so...gut wrenchingly /cute/, he couldn’t stand it. “Sorry, EraserHead. Didn’t mean to disturb your student. Was just being friendly is all,” You assured the older Hero, hands up in surrender as you walked alongside side him, and back to regroup with your class- smiling smugly to yourself when you noticed the barest hint of a smirk on Eraserheads face, just before he turned away and skulked off to whatever dark, cozy corner he had been observing his students from.

Training felt like it had lasted forever, and then some. The following days were no easier. Your bodies were pushed to their limits, and then thrown off the metaphorical cliff afterwards. Every day, class A and B were sore, tired, irritable. But even then, once lunch, and dinner came around, it offered you all a chance to get to know one another more intimately. You talked, and mingled with class 1A- flirting with Todoroki for fun, and picking Midoriya’s brain about his hero notebook- unaware of the red eyes following your every move amongst the classmates. Your flirting with Bakugou was at an all time high- given you could usually spare a handful of minutes each day teasing the young man, whether it be with words during training, lingering touches, or brushes of hands, and legs during dinner, or with outright winks, and kisses blown to the blonde as you all departed to your cabins for the night. It infuriated Bakugou to no end. Your presence. The way he acted out against you...his mother would suggest he needed an attitude adjustment, and that he should allow the fun part of camp to take precedent over his ultimate number one hero goal. As if he’d ever. But still, her frustrated words of encouragement never ceased to ease up as the days went by, and you became bolder with your flirting. Bakugou felt on edge constantly, like someone was going to crack a whip at him at any moment. Say something about it, say something about /him/, but no one ever did. Probably because they were scared. His only saving grace, he supposed. Being intimidating. Though he didn’t intimidate /you/, which was the part he hated the most. ...He’d just have to switch up his tactics, then. His mother would be proud. God, he hated that. After a particularly grueling day of training, everyone was running on fumes, more or less, as they shuffled around the outdoor kitchen, prepping dinner lazily. Monoma picking stupid fights with whoever he came across first, as though he were too tired to even do that. You’d been chatting quietly to Mina and Jirou about some of your favorite albums, when a whistle from across the counters had all three of you lifting your heads. Curiosity piqued to the fullest extent, as your gaze landed on Bakugou- pointing at you with a hard expression, before gesturing to the spot next to him at the cutting board station. His eyes downcast again before you could even register what was going on, before hurrying to head over before whatever demon that had possessed Bakugou, decided to get the fuck out of such a toxic human host. Beaming, you came to stand at Bakugou’s side, arms brushing against each other as you glanced down at the finely minced veggies the boy was working on. “You rang?” Brows raised in question, you ducked your head to try and catch the boy’s eyes again- stopping dead in your tracks as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tightly, and slid a knife between your fingers. Tugging you impossibly closer to his side, and reaching an arm around you to grab a stray carrot. Boxing you into the bench, and maneuvering your fingers carefully as he began to force you to chop the carrot below. His front was flush with your back, and suddenly you couldn’t breath. Breath hitched in your throat, flush high on your cheeks, as Bakugou bent down, face right next to yours, as he forced you to chop, knife always skirting a little /too/ close to your fingertips, but fuck it all if you weren’t willing to lose them for this encounter to continue. “All this time and you haven’t even learned to chop properly. Make yourself more useful, you shitty extra,” He grunted, right into your ear. A sharp shock of arousal shooting down your spine as he spoke, looking away suddenly as Bakugou turned to try and meet your gaze. “Eh? What’s the problem, extra? Cat got your fucking tongue?’ He teased, harshly, though his grasp on your hands lessened, and fuck you were gonna pass out if you didn’t start breathing soon. “Oh,” He huffed suddenly, snickering under his breath, as he crowded you in up against the bench entirely, completely flush with your back, before his lips ghosted the shelf of your ear, and he whispered “-probably because of my big tits, huh? Tch.” And then he was gone. Gone from your back, gone from the shell of your ear, gone from giving you a religious fucking experience, and thankfully gone from nearly making you jizz your jeans in front of the entireety of class A and B. Your hands shook where they now held the knife solo, and you glanced over your shoulder- watching Bakugou stuff his hands in his pockets, arch his shoulders, and stalk off to the cabins. Though not before you also caught the sharp, devilish smirk that twisted up on his face. What a fucking DICK. But a dick who was handsome as fuck, and knew exactly what he was doing. “Alright, Bakugou, you wanna play, big boy?” You whispered to yourself, voice shaky as you continued chopping vegetables. “I’ll bite. Show you how it’s done...right after I pass out, Jesus fucking Chri-”

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bringbackthebastard · 3 years

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Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

#severus snape #snape fest #bring back the bastard fest 2021 #bring back the bastard fest #bring back the bastard #bring back the bastard prompts #harry potter fandom fest #hp fandom #snapedom #pro-snape #snapelove #prompts #daily prompts #snape prompts

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hintofelation99 · 3 years

Text

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

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

Based on this headcanon.

#also the peanut butter pepperoni sandwich is curtesy of my brother #he got dared to eat one in high school and decided he liked it #his wife was v disappointed when she realized he still eats them #batman #bruce wayne #incorrect batfam quotes #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #field trips #brotherly bonding #batbros #mypost

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Text

Jon plays the piano. That’s it, that’s the fic.

At first, he thinks it’s the radio. It’s not uncommon for these stores to play classical music, trying to add an air of sophistication in what’s otherwise a dark room of dusty knicknacks. But when he walks towards the noise, he instead finds Jon sitting at the bench of an old wooden upright, his posture straighter than Tim’s ever seen it, hands moving slowly but deftly across the keys as he leans into each note.

It’s mesmerizing.

Jon must hear his footsteps as he doesn’t startle when Tim sits beside him. “You never told me you could play,” Tim says, too enthralled to be truly annoyed by it. Jon gives him a self-deprecating smile, though his eyes don’t leave the keys.

“I can’t, not anymore,” he responds in complete defiance of his actions. Tim’s always loved Jon’s hands, delicate and slender and naturally elegant in all of their movements; even the most awkward of gestures made with a sort of grace. He shouldn’t be surprised that he plays so wonderfully. But Jon’s always been protective of his interests, careful not to volunteer too much information lest he be laughed at or scorned. Sometimes, when it’s only the two of them, and occasionally Sasha, he’ll let his guard down and his enthusiasm for even the most mundane of subjects is surprisingly contagious.

“Well, seeing as how I can only do Hot Cross Buns, I think you can, actually.”

“Middle C is flat,” Jon continues as if Tim hadn’t spoken, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He taps at the key a few times, but Tim’s never had a good ear for that sort of thing, so he’ll have to take Jon’s word for it. “They should really keep this in better condition, it’s a shame.” He stops his tapping but his hands still flutter over the keys as if they itch to play more. Tim would gladly sit here all day and listen.

“What was that?” He nudges Jon’s shoulder, pleased when Jon leans further into his side.

“Satie. From his Trois Gymnopedies.”

“Ooh, nice accent,” he teases, though he does indeed love it. “Someone passed their French A-level.”

“Shut up,” Jon butts his head affectionately against his shoulder, his face flushing. “You’re just as bad with your insufferable Italian.”

“Alright, alright,” Tim lets out a small laugh. “It’s just, you never said. Seems like you enjoy it.”

“I did,” Jon replies, his eyes going distant. He gets like that, when he talks about his past. Tim knows very little of it, though Jon insists there’s ‘nothing to know.’ Jon’s told him about what brought him to the institute in a rare moment of vulnerability, but other than that, he knows the bare minimum. “I still do, I suppose. You know, my Gran was the one who actually pushed me into the lessons.”

Jon doesn’t talk much about his grandmother. He remembers back when he first started, Jon disappeared for a week and Sasha kept checking her phone anxiously. Tim later found out that his grandmother had died, that Jon was the only one left to take care of such things. That Jon was an orphan. That Jon came back with that stiff upper lip even though he looked like shit, and promptly crumbled when Tim gave him an awkward, one-armed condolence hug.

From what Tim knows, she wasn’t the greatest guardian. Far from it in his opinion. But she was all Jon had.

Not anymore.

“Said I needed something to distract me from- from-'' his voice stutters out and Tim wraps his arm around Jon’s waist- he knows. He doesn’t need the explanation. “Well, she wasn’t the type of person to recommend therapy. It was her way of showing that she cared.” Or just wanted you dealt with, Tim doesn’t voice.

“Did it work?” He knows the answer.

“Not at all,” Jon smirks and his hands abruptly fly across the keys in a lively, fast tune. Jon isn’t just good, he’s excellent. The way his eyes brighten and his face lights up - the man’s in his element. “Still enjoyed it, though. And I was pretty good at it, entered a few competitions.” Pretty good is more than an understatement, but Jon’s never been one to brag over things that truly matter.

“What’s this one called?”

“Rondo alla ingharese quasi un capriccio,” Jon rolls out in an over-exaggerated Italian accent. “More commonly known as Rage Over a Lost Penny.”

“You could’ve just said that.”

“I could’ve, yes,” he replies playfully, the lilting tones of the music perfectly matching his little smile. He’s an infuriating little bastard. Tim loves it.

“You didn’t want to go professional? Hit the big time?”

“Hardly,” Jon snorts in derision, his hands stilling again. “Gran was right, it wasn’t practical. No use paying for a degree in music when so few people make it.” The music, still lively, goes a bit softer. “Didn’t stop me from auditioning, though.”

“Really?” He tries to imagine a young Jon in front of a panel of judges. “Must have been nerve-wracking.”

“Indeed.” Jon says stiffly, his hands abruptly stopping as they hit a sour note. “I had a panic attack before my hands hit the keys.”

Tim winces in sympathy. “Oh, Jon…”

“And I haven’t played since.” Tim reaches out to take Jon’s hands in his own, although the man avoids his eyes. Jon puts up a hard exterior, but he’s very easily wounded. One wrong word, one bad experience- it’s internalized, played over and over in his head. People don’t realize that about him, but Tim knows better than others that the mind keeps score. “I think a part of me knew she was right. Shouldn’t have bothered.”

“That’s a pity,” Tim once again wishes Jon had one person he could’ve relied on as a child. One adult he could confide in or get encouragement from. He thinks about young Jon, tiny and traumatized and alone, and his chest aches with it. “I think you could’ve made it.”

“Sweet of you.” Jon leans against his side and closes his eyes. “But there’s no need to flatter.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Tim insists. And yeah, maybe he’s not well-versed in music, but he knows talent and passion when he sees it. He used to see it in his brother all the time. And it’s sad that Jon doubts himself so much. He should be able to at least enjoy his hobby without being reminded of the guilt and what-could’ve-beens.

“Always wanted to learn an instrument,” he begins carefully, letting go of one of Jon’s hands to tinker at the keys. “Maybe I’ll get a keyboard, you can show me the ropes.”

The hand still in his twitches, and he turns to see the small beginnings of a shy smile. Jon’s a good teacher, patient and kind when someone shows a genuine interest in what he has to say. And Tim would do anything to see that easy, boyish smile again, see those fingers flying across the keys with such enjoyment.

“Not sure if you can afford my rates, Stoker.”

“Hey-!”

A cough cuts into his argument. It’s the old woman who sat behind the counter as they arrived, and she’s looking at a spot somewhere above Tim’s ahead. He turns around.

DO NOT TOUCH.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he drags Jon up from the seat, ignoring his squeak. “We’ll just be going now!”

They sprint out of the store, giggling like naughty school children the entire way. Jon’s genuine laughter is rare, and something to be treasured - nothing like the sarcastic snorts he usually prefers.

“Damn!” Jon swears as he checks his watch, smile still lingering on his face despite the furrow in his brow. “We were supposed to interview that witness at noon, it’s already half past.”

“Don’t worry, this was a necessary detour,” Tim assures him. And for him, it was. “Piano could’ve been haunted, after all.”

Jon rolls his eyes as he barks out a laugh. “Haunted. Yes, of course.”

On the train, Tim googles how much a keyboard costs. He’s thinking he might take it up after all.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31219403

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #something for jontim week that i never finished until now #i just think that jon should play an instrument #and tim should appreciate :)#precanon #reblogs appreciated <3

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ghost-party · 3 years

Note

Hiyaa if it’s possible, I’d love it if you could do prompt 8 and 21 with our friendly lil crackhead, Goio. Your writing gives me much serotonin yes ily ( ◉ ⁻̫ ◉)♡

Thanks, anon! These were fun prompts to work with. 😊❤️

Warnings: swearing

• • •

Gojo + “brushing hands by accident” + “accidentally knocking your head into someone’s chin”

“Need some help?”

You can hear the smile in Gojo’s voice, and, if anything, it worsens your already tenuous mood.

It was supposed to be a simple task: Go to one of Jujutsu Tech’s many storerooms (you swear they have one for everything) and retrieve some items for tomorrow’s lecture on cursed relics.

But the shelf you need to reach is too damn high.

You had thought you could handle it yourself. You’re a strong, capable sorcerer. Resourceful, too. How hard could it be?

But now here you are, staring up at the large, padlocked box in question, bristling at the feeling of Gojo’s gaze on you.

“No. I can get it.” And yet, you know it’s impossible. Your fingers barely brush against the edge of the shelf, and there’s no step stool or ladder in sight.

With an annoyed huff, you turn around and are met with your fellow teacher’s cheeky grin. Such a punchable face... A punchable, handsome face... And therein lies the problem.

It’s that precise combination that always puts you at risk of tripping over yourself whenever he’s around — or throwing a book at his head. It really depends on your mood.

You only recently realized just how hard you’ve fallen for him. It’s confusing and troublesome, and now every interaction with him feels like walking a high wire. One wrong move, and you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s the strongest sorcerer, after all. Of course he would find your infatuation with him hilarious.

“Fine. Please, by all means, you insufferable giant.” You mockingly bow and gesture for Gojo to join you in the cramped storage space, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He strides forward, rubbing his hands together. “I’m always happy to help, sweet pea. No need to be so stubborn.”

He’s mid-reach, making it look way too easy, when three things happen at nearly the same time: There’s a loud slam behind you, you’re both plunged into total darkness, and you gasp while Gojo merely mutters, “Huh...?”

“The door,” you manage, heart pounding. “I propped it open, but it must have... Were you leaning on it or something?”

“Eh, maybe.” He sounds infuriatingly unconcerned. “I was too busy being your knight in shining armor to notice.”

You snort, arms outstretched as you walk in the direction of the door. “Yeah, right.” When your hands brush against the wood grain, you quickly drag them down until they reach the handle. But when you push — and pull, out of sheer desperation — the door refuses to budge.

“It’s locked.”

“Whoops. You must’ve left the key in.”

Biting back a reply, you turn on your heel, take a step forward, and immediately collide with a warm, solid object.

“Whoa there, are you — Ow!” Your head snaps up at the sound of Gojo’s voice right above you, your forehead colliding with what feels like his jaw. “Geez, pumpkin. You trying to knock my teeth out?”

You ignore the question, stunned into silence by his close proximity. Although you can’t see him, you can feel him, and his nearness and warmth are making you feel slightly faint. “Can’t you just teleport us out of here?”

“Technically, yes...”

“Good. Let’s go.”

“... but I don’t really feel like it.”

Your mouth drops open. “I’m sorry, what?” You blindly reach out and jab a finger at what you’re pretty sure is his chest. “Stop being an asshole.”

“Oh, I’m the asshole?” As you pull your hand back, it brushes against bare skin. Every nerve in your body feels electrified as Gojo’s long fingers wrap around yours, firm enough to keep them caught there.

“You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for days. I want to know why.”

“I... It’s...” You can’t help but feel embarrassed by your recent behavior, having reverted to extreme defensiveness and avoidance out of fear of rejection. It was better to push him away than to be pushed away... Right?

But now you aren’t so sure. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry. Just... personal stuff.”

“It’s definitely felt personal.” Gojo doesn’t sound upset. His tone is light and teasing, with a thread of concern woven through.

“Come on,” he coaxes, squeezing your hand. “Be honest with me.”

“If I’m not, are we going to be stuck in here forever?”

Gojo hums a little. “Maybe. I could always take a guess, if you don’t feel like telling me.”

He takes a step closer and pulls your hand to his chest. “Hmm... Let’s see... I did raid your candy stash last week.”

“Of course that was you.”

“In my defense, it was an obvious hiding spot. But this seems more serious...” He taps his fingers against your knuckles, seemingly deep in thought. “I’m perfectly charming, so it can’t be anything I said.” You laugh softly. “And I’m an exemplary coworker.”

“You snuck off during yesterday’s training to pull a prank on Ijichi.”

“Your hurtful objection is duly noted.” He hesitates for a moment, and then asks, “Could it be... that you have a crush on me?”

You have never wished so hard for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. But at least he can’t see the stricken, pained expression on your face. Wait. Who are you kidding? He probably can, with those stupid eyes of his. There’s no use denying it, you think, biting your lip.

“Yeah... I do.”

When he laughs, you wince, already anticipating the worst. “You have a strange way of showing it,” he says.

“Please, just... forget about it, okay? It’s stupid.”

“Well, if it’s stupid, then I guess my feelings are stupid, too, huh?”

If you could see his face, you’d be staring into it, wide-eyed and gaping. “What...?”

You suddenly feel his free hand settle on top of your head, gently ruffling your hair. “I like you, too, pumpkin. Even when you’re being ridiculous.”

“And how was I supposed to know that?” you splutter, cheeks burning. “You tease everyone. It’s hard to tell when you’re flirting.”

Impossibly, he moves even closer, and you suck in a sharp breath as his hand slides down to your cheek. “I guess I need to try harder,” he murmurs. “Or you need to pay more attention.”

“I never thought the day would come when Gojo Satoru called me ridiculous.”

“What exactly are you implying?” He brings your joined hands to his lips, and you can feel his smile against your skin.

“Nothing at all.”

“Maybe I can persuade you to tell me over dinner tonight.”

Your heart leaps — a date? — and you nod against his hand, which is now tracing small circles along your face.

“Perfect. Now, I think it’s about time we got out of here, hmm? I can’t wait to see how flustered you look in the daylight!”

In the blink of an eye, you’re both standing in the hallway — right in front of a very startled Yuuji and a smirking Nobara.

“I’ll never get used to that!” Yuuji says with a laugh, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you both have a nice chat?” Nobara’s smile widens into a true Cheshire grin. “It was hard to hear through the door. Pretty disappointing. But...” Her gaze drifts down to your still-joined hands. “... that looks like a success.”

“You locked us in there?” Something in your tone causes the two of them to stiffen and look mildly frightened. “What is this, The Parent Trap?”

“We just... You two... Uh...” Yuuji trails off, slowly backing away, Nobara mirroring his movements. “Sorrysenseibye!” And then they’re gone, running faster than you’ve seen them move during actual fights.

“While their methods may have been questionable,” Gojo says, swinging your hands between the two of you, “you can’t deny that they worked.”

“You know they get this shit from you, right?” Your words are softened by the smile you throw at him, and he beams down at you.

“Oops.”

#valentine's day event #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Text

crash

so, here i am with a new one shot.

so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.

anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.

idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.

anyway. here’s the one shot.

word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)

trigger warning: car crash, panic attack

__________________________________________________

crash

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.

The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.

This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.

But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.

The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.

“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.

You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.

You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.

Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.

It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.

So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.

Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.

“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.

“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.

“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.

“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.

“What’s going on?”

“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out.

“What?!”

“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.

“Where are you?!”

Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.

After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.

“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.

You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.

“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.

You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.

“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.

The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.

You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.

“Are you in any pain?”

"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.

“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.

“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”

“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.

You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.

The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.

“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.

Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.

You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.

Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.

The both of you didn’t sleep that night.

Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.

And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.

The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.

Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.

“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue.

“A little bit.”

“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.

You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.

“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #writing #mine

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,195

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings: brief mention of attempted suicide

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Follow Me!

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Chapter 3

"Time!" Mr. Harris looked up from his watch. "If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

I looked down at my beaker and saw a horrible concoction of half crystal and half goo. Thanks to Stiles, my last partner of this weird-ass rotation the chemistry teacher had us partake in. Yet even though I didn't get with Stiles that well I was relieved that he was my partner. Isaac had been completely insufferable these last few days and I couldn't handle that.

"Now this part of the experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it." I was bummed that I couldn't eat mine and I guess Lydia noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), we can share mine. Don't frown." I smiled at her and she returned it.

After Lydia gave me half her rock crystal, Scott just stood up and screamed our names to stop, and everyone else just stared at us. We both turned and gave the boy a weird stare before diverging our attention back to the candy. After clinking our candies against the other, we savored the sweet treat.

Allison's POV

"Derek is outside waiting for (Y/N) and Lydia," Scott said.

"Waiting to kill them?"

"If he thinks one of them is the Kanima, then yes. Especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not Lydia."

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened."

"No, it can't be her."

"Well, it's not (Y/N) either."

"Well, it could be her."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" What the hell was his problem?

"Well, we have no idea who she is, and she hasn't really proven to be a good person. And the attacks did start after she first arrived at Beacon Hills."

"You don't know her, I do. Believe me, it's not her. I've known her my whole life. I think I would have noticed her turning into a killing lizard and I don't think I would be here to tell you. So, we can cross her out." We both sighed. "But it doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's one of them. So, either we can convince him that he's wrong or we've got to figure out a way to protect them."

"Well, I don't think he's gonna do anything here. Not at school." Scott stepped in.

"What about after school?" I asked and he sighed. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?"

"There can be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that." Seriously Stiles, not helping. At least I was trying.

"Actually, I think there might be someone who can translate," I said thinking about our guidance counselor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not either of them or... But if anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"You can't heal like I do." I stared at him. I wasn't a defenseless baby. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I can protect myself." I took the crossbow out of my bag. He said nothing. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong you call me, okay?! I don't care if your dad finds out. Call or text, scream or yell; whatever, I'll find you as fast as I can." He stared straight into my eyes.

"We have until three."

He turned to leave until my crossbow went off. "Ooh." Scott quickly turned around and caught the arrow.

"Aah. Sorry." Stiles handed me the crossbow. "Sorry. Sensed a trigger on that."

Scott's POV

Currently, Stiles was on Lydia's and (Y/N)'s trail, and I was on the field with Boyd trying to find Derek.

"I wanna talk to Derek."

"Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight."

"Good. Cause I'm twice the size of you" I looked up to find it true.

"True. Really, really true." He smirked. "But you wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast." I smirked back and tackled him to the ground. Once we stood up, Derek appeared by our side.

"She failed the test." His face held his iconic scowl, and his arms were crossed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't prove anything. Lydia's different."

"I know. At night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"I'm not gonna let you kill her."

"Who said I was gonna do it?" I looked back to the school and realized Erica and Isaac were still back in the building. I tried to run towards it, but Boyd threw me down. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott. But even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again. And next time it's gonna be one of us."

"What if you're wrong? For all we know it could also be (Y/N). She didn't pass either, and how is it a coincidence that the attacks started after she arrived?" For a second I could have sworn there was a sign of desperation and worry in his face. But as quick as I blinked the look was gone.

"Lydia was bitten by an alpha. It's her."

"You saw that thing up close. You know it's not like us."

"But it is! We're all shapeshifters. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." He gave me his hand and helped me up. "Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded."

"Well, what if she's immune? What if she has something else inside of her that makes her immune to the bite which is why she didn't get paralyzed."

"No one's immune. We've never seen it or heard of it. It's n... It's never happened." He argued.

"What about Jackson?" He looked away. "That's why you tested him, isn't it? Because you gave him what he wanted, didn't you?"

"Scott..."

"You said the bite either kills you or turns you. You were probably hoping that he would die. But nothing happened, right? You have no idea why do you?"

"No." Derek's jaw clenched and I knew I struck a never, so I pressured on buying more time.

"I have a theory. That she's immune and that somehow, she passed it on to Jackson. You know I'm right."

"No!

"You can NOT do this!"

"Look, I can't let her live! You should've known that."

"I was hoping I could convince you but then, I wasn't counting on it." He looked at me frazzled as to what I meant, I just smirked.

(Y/N)'s POV

Being stuck with Stiles and Lydia in the library is torture, an experiment I did not want to know the result of. Actually, just Stiles. Ever since Chemistry he had been on our trail like a lost puppy. Lydia and I had a project to work with, and he was just in the way. He was acting so weird and fidgety, more than usual.

"Hey, Allison. What are you doing here?" Lydia said looking behind her.

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you wanted to get together for a study group."

"Sure, that would actually maybe let the tension leave this group," I said and as we were leaving, Jackson joined.

"Study group? I'm coming with."

"Great." We left through the back door of the library, lord knows why, and we were walking at top speed.

"If we're doing a study group why don't we just stay in the library?" Lydia said. I was asking myself the same thing but since everyone else had stood up, I just followed.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else."

"Why don't they just meet us at the library?" I asked.

"Oh, that would have been a great idea! Too late."

"Okay, hold on..." Lydia started saying but Jackson stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." Jerk.

We all got inside of Stile's jeep since he thought it would be faster that way because we were already late. It was an awkward ride to what I learned was Scott's house. No one said much except for the casual groan or scoff coming from Lydia.

"If we're meeting at Scott's house, where's Scott?" Lydia asked.

"Meeting us here. I think. I hope." Stiles said as he led us up to the front steps and into Scott's house.

Once inside he closed every single lock there was on the door. My reaction was involuntary as I stared at the slim boy in front of me as if he was another worldly creature.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins in the neighborhood." He then put a chair on the doorknob and now Lydia joined in the stare. "And a murder. Yeah, it was bad."

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute." Jackson spoke up.

"Seriously, what is going on with everyone?" Lydia said exasperated.

"Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. What the hell is going on?" I asked once Jackon and Lydia were out of sight.

"Nothing. Like we said it's just a study group." Stiles answered and I crossed my arms against my chest. Groveling for an answer seemed completely futile in this situation.

Allison's POV

"You know what, (Y/N). Why don't you go into the kitchen and help yourself to anything or go upstairs and lay down? I think Scott will take a while."

"O-kay?" She headed upstairs with an audible sigh and I motioned to Stiles to give me his phone to dial Scott.

"Hey, it's me. You need to get here. Quick." I looked outside and saw Derek and his pack waiting. I looked at the phone after Scott hung up and started dialing my dad's number.

"What are you doing?"

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."

"I know." I stared at him. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay, they're here to kill Lydia... Or, or even (Y/N)." We stood in silence and I debated on whether if it would be a good idea to call my father. If I did my relationship with Scott would be completely and truly over and if I didn't there could be a chance I would be down a friend or even a cousin.

"I've got an idea." I looked at a nervous Stiles. "Shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So, let's do it, at least give it a shot, right?" I debated for a moment.

"Okay." I don't think I sounded too confident.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." His reasoning made sense. I looked outside.

"Which one?"

"Um, Derek, preferably in the head."

"Stiles, if Scott can catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, ah, just shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"I mean three." Quickly he moved the curtains aside and looked outside to check on the pack. "Where's Isaac?" Without being able to think I was attacked and thrown to the ground and so was Stiles. I don't know how but Isaac found a way in.

(Y/N)'s POV

I was laying down on the bed of what I hoped was a guest room, scrolling through my phone when I heard a crash downstairs. I guess Lydia heard it too because when I looked outside the hallway, there she was. We moved slowly and carefully. After, I started to hear snarling and crashing.

"What's happening?" Lydia cried and I half hugged her as reassurance.

"Get back. Someone's trying to break in, okay? Go." Allison appeared from around the corner.

"I can help," I said.

"Stay." We didn't move. "Guys, go!" We both ran back to the room she was with Jackson and closed the door. Yet, Jackson was nowhere in sight.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screamed and we made our way to the bathroom locking the door.

"Who are you calling?" I asked Lydia as she took out her phone.

"Hi, I-I need the police. Th-there's someone trying to break in." She turned off the light and I heard the door outside slam.

"Stiles! It's here!" Allison screamed. What the hell was IT? Then the door crashed down. Lydia started squirming so I engulfed her in a hug and tried my best to calm her nerves.

"We're gonna be alright." But honestly, I was just as scared. Once silence was the only thing surrounding us, I checked the room. "Okay, I think it's gone. We'll go out slowly."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom and later out of the room. We made our way calmly down the hallway and the stairs. That's when I heard the worst screech ever and it was not human. We both ran outside to see what had made such an awful sound and were met by Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, and Allison. What the hell were they all doing here, and why were Erica and Isaac limp on the floor?

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's Jackson," Scott said. What could that possibly mean?

After everyone had calmed down, Stiles took us back to the school to look for our abandoned cars. As I made my way to my bike, Allison stopped me. Claiming that she was too worried about my safety. Not having the energy to fight, I obliged and got into her car alongside Lydia, who was still a bit shaken from the events.

"I need you to promise that you both won't say anything about what just happened." Allison staged the statement as a request but it was clearly a command.

"I promise not to say anything about what just happened if you could tell me what the HELL just happened," Lydia said, exasperated.

"I'm with Lydia on that one."

"It's kinda complicated." Allison sighed.

"How about you start with why Derek was there?" I spoke. "And Isaac and all of those kids from school?"

"Or where Jackson went or what is wrong with Erica?" She looked down. "Need to come up with a possible lie?"

"Part of the reason I am asking is because Scott and I aren't supposed to be seeing each other, okay?" Seriously? That's your excuse "So it's better if you just keep what you know to yourselves."

"Fine. I'll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend, which is nothing, to myself." Lydia started to get out, but Allison held her back.

"Hey, he's not just my boyfriend, you get that right?"

"Let me go." The strawberry blonde spat.

"Just for one second, please try and remember. "

"Remember what?!" Lydia turned.

"Remember what it feels like. All those times in school when you see him standing in the hall and you cannot breathe until you're with him or those times in class when you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he is standing right out there, waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? You've had boyfriends."

"Not like that." She closed the door and left. Allison stared at her until she had reached the door to her house before starting the car back up.

"I know you're lying. This has nothing to do with your relationship with Scott. Maybe like five percent but when you look at the whole picture it's not. So, why don't you actually tell me the truth or I swear I will get out of this car."

"We're moving."

"Doesn't mean I won't jump out."

"What do you want me to say?!"

"The truth. Just tell me why the hell everyone has been acting so weird?"

"You're one to talk." She scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You! Ever since you've arrived you have pushed everyone away, even though all they have been is nice to you. You're alienating yourself for no reason."

"No reason?! How about the fact that I don't want to grow attached to anyone because I know that once the year ends, I'm gone? It has been like that for almost ten fucking years. Allison, you have only had to move about three times in your life, maybe four. I have been moving every single year since I was eight years old. Don't you think that it doesn't hurt to leave behind people you have grown to love and won't see again, possibly forever?"

"I didn't think..." she sighed.

"Exactly, you didn't think because you don't understand. The last time I grew close to someone, I had to say goodbye and you know what happened?" She shook her head no. "She was bullied into attempting suicide. I did that."

"Are you talking about Josie?" I nodded, roughly wiping away the tears that had spilled. "That wasn't your fault. It was tragic but there was nothing you could have done. You didn't do it."

"I did. She was alone because I left, and I couldn't protect her. She won't even answer my messages. Now, I don't associate myself with people so I don't have to care about what happens to them. That way it doesn't hurt once I leave."

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't know you felt that way. But don't push me away. I will always be a constant in your life. I'm your cousin, I will always be with you." She hugged me and wiped away any other tears left. "I love you but get out."

"Dude, you just ruined the moment."

"No, I mean we're at your house and I have to get home. I love you." She smiled and I got out of the car. Before I could say anything else, she sped off. She knew there was a conversation still lingering and she was trying to avoid it. I just hoped I didn't have to explain myself to anyone else.

I entered the empty house, making sure all the doors were locked, and made my way up the stairs. Opening my bedroom door, Brody jumped off my bed and onto me, slathering my face with kisses.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you too," I laughed. Being near him instantly calmed me and helped me feel more at ease after the night I had.

I changed into my pajamas, too tired to shower, and cuddled with Brody on my bed. Talking about my past always made me tense. I tried my best to stray away from the topic and reveal as little as possible as I could, but it always found a way to be uncovered. As hard as I tried it was the dark cloud that would always follow me around. All I could do was avoid the whole thing as much as I could and hope they didn't bring it up again.

With Brody's warmth next to me, I quickly nodded off to sleep and melted the stress of the day.

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Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower

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helnjk · 3 years

Text

Snowed In - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes! by my love @lupinsclassroom

Ah HA I finally came up with a Charlie request. Okay, of course it’s professor reader because I’m obsessed with them but like....Charlie visits hogwarts, and then (I know logistically this isn’t possible bc ✨magic✨) but he gets snowed in and has to stay in the castle for the weekend and it’s just cozy and soft 🥺

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: sometimes, it takes just the right circumstances to get what you want.

Warnings: meal mention, reference to/implied sex (blink and you’ll miss it), winter fluff!

A/N: this took me so long to get done aaaaaaaa 😩 but yay ! more COMC professor & charlie 🥰

–

Christmas at Hogwarts was always a spectacular sight. The professors always loved to go above and beyond with the decorations, but even without them, the grounds and the castle looked, well, magical.

“Professor L/N?” a voice from across the room mumbled.

Y/N looked up from the stack of papers she was grading to see Eloise Abbott, wrapped in her cloak and her Hufflepuff scarf, standing at the entrance to her office. A neatly wrapped present was clutched in her gloved hands as she waited for her professor to invite her inside.

Athena was perched on her stand behind Y/N, resting after a long afternoon of delivering various Christmas gifts. Her sleeping figure seemed to appease the student’s apprehension slightly as she called out, “Come on in, Eloise!”

“Isn’t the train supposed to be leaving soon? What’re you still doing in the castle?” Y/N questioned, stashing away the stack of parchments on her desk, that way her attention would be fully on the Hufflepuff.

“Yep!” Eloise replied quickly, “I just wanted to drop off a present for you before I go! I know that you’re staying here for the holidays, right?”

“You’re right.” Y/N smiled. “Thank you for thinking of me, Eloise, that was very sweet of you.”

A swift nod was her reply, and as quick as she had come, Ms. Abbott turned on her heel and darted out of the room. Thankfully, she remembered to yell a hasty, “Happy Christmas!” over her shoulder before she was fully out of hearing range.

Y/N shook her head with a soft smile on her lips. Even after being her professor for nearly six years now, Eloise was still a shy little thing when it came to communicating with professors or any sort of authority figure. Still, the gesture warmed her heart greatly.

The thought of gifts and spending Christmas alone, well, not exactly alone, but not with the Weasleys this year put a slight damper on her mood, though. Minerva had asked her if she could spend the holidays at Hogwarts this year since they were running short of staff who could chaperone the students. Of course, Y/N could never say no to her favorite teacher turned cool boss. It was the least she could do.

With a sigh, she stroked Athena’s soft feathers and came to the conclusion that she was too distracted to continue her grading.

Despite her attempt for some alone time, Minerva managed to stop her in the hallway.

“Ah Y/N, just the person I wanted to see,” the older professor smiled.

“Anything I can do for you, Min?” Y/N replied.

She nodded, “I need your help with a particularly odd creature in my office. It doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

The two professors briskly walked towards the Headmistress’ office side by side, their winter robes swishing around their legs. Professor L/N’s brows furrowed at the lack of concern Minerva had shown at the fact that there was a creature in her office. Of course, the older witch was highly skilled and educated, so maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem. What did she need Y/N’s help for then?

“Er, Minerva,” Y/N began as they turned a corner, “What creature exactly is in your office? Do you think we need backup?”

“I didn’t exactly get a good look at it, I just saw that it had orange-colored fur.”

“Minerva.”

The sly grin that she was met with did nothing to help the situation. Y/N simply rolled her eyes and went along with the all too obvious scheme the Headmistress had hatched up this time.

The pair said nothing else as they continued their journey to the Minerva’s office, save for the password–’panthera leo’–once they reached the gargoyle statue. Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her as they ascended the spiral staircase, especially since the older witch hadn’t stopped grinning.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what’s going on despite the fact that you’re grinning at me like a cheshire cat?” Y/N probed, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see, dear.”

The younger professor had to push down the urge to roll her eyes. Thankfully, they had reached the top of the staircase, and the words she was about to say got stuck in her throat as she saw what, or rather who, was in the office.

“Charlie?” she gasped, after pushing the door open.

Leaning against the large oak desk with his legs crossed in front of him was Charlie Weasley with a shit-eating grin. Y/N paused at the entrance to the Headmistress’ office, her eyes darting between the redhead and her boss.

“He’s the orange-furred creature that you can’t seem to get out of your office?”

Even as she spoke the words, her head couldn’t wrap around the absurdity of the situation. Charlie let out a loud laugh at her question, his eyes moving his former professor and head of house, who had just slipped past Y/N and into her office.

“I asked Minnie here to help me out some with surprising you,” he grinned cheekily.

He pushed off the desk and took a few short strides. Faster than she could comprehend, he was standing in front of her, soft eyes staring down at hers and rough hands grasping at her arms.

“Hi,” he spoke softly.

In an instant, she practically melted in his arms, “Hi Charlie.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought them out of their little bubble and their heads turned in Minerva’s direction.

“Alright Mr. Weasley, I helped you surprise Y/N,” she smiled knowingly, “Now off with you two! I’ve got a school to run.”

With a shout of thanks, Charlie took Y/N’s hand and practically dragged her out of the office. Biting her lip to contain her grin, she felt like she was a student again, laughing through the deserted hallways as she and her boyfriend ran towards her quarters.

There was a lot of tripping over their own feet and a lot of giggling, but she hadn’t felt this elated in a long time. Whenever Charlie would turn to look back at her, the edges of her lips would turn upwards automatically, as if he was the source of her happiness and her laughter.

Which, in a lot of ways, he was.

Y/N had never been so glad to see the castle empty. It meant that she could let her professional professor facade down and let loose without having to think too hard about the repercussions.

“So,” she started as they reached the hallway containing her room, “Care to tell me when you planned all of this?”

The sparkle of mischief and delight in Charlie’s eyes nearly made her swoon, “I can’t stay long, unfortunately. Mum’s expecting me at the Burrow tonight, but I got an early portkey so that I could see you before Christmas.”

Pushing up on her tiptoes, Y/N kissed him softly, “You’re wonderful, do you know that?”

“Careful there, love, we don’t want to boost my ego too much.”

–

“You all set?” Y/N asked, smoothing out the creases in Charlie’s scarf and trying to busy herself in an attempt to distract her mind from the thought of not spending Christmas in his arms.

With a deep sigh, he answered, “Yep, just about.”

Majority of their afternoon together was spent in bed, much to their joint amusement. In Charlie’s defense, he had come to do whatever it was that Y/N wanted, and well, that was what she ended up choosing. In hindsight, it was probably their best option anyway, since the weather outside the castle had slowly begun to worsen.

By the time they had stumbled out of the warmth of Y/N’s bed and had gotten dressed once again, it was practically dark outside due to the snowstorm that rolled in.

“It’s looking pretty rough out there,” she noted, as the pair of them walked hand in hand down the deserted hallways.

Now and then, a student staying at Hogwarts for the holidays would pass by them and try their hardest not to stare at their hot Care of Magical Creatures professor and her equally hot dragon tamer boyfriend.

Each time a student rushed past, Charlie would wait until they were out of sight before making eye contact with Y/N and smiling so big it shouldn’t have been humanly possible.

“You’re insufferable,” she grumbled after the third student they encountered disappeared around the corner.

“You love me,” he shrugged.

The bickering pair paused mid step when they heard a new set of footsteps approaching them. For the second time that day, Y/N watched as Minerva approached.

“I’m afraid your journey to the Burrow has to be put on hold, Mr. Weasley,” she spoke as she reached the pair.

“What?” Y/N and Charlie said together.

“The storm outside is much too harsh for anyone to walk past the apparition wards, even with impervious charms,” she explained.

“What about your floo, can’t he use that to get to the Burrow?”

As Y/N spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the pang of excitement she felt at the thought of being able to spend more time with Charlie.

“Ministry’s just gotten back with word that the Floo Network is under maintenance until further notice.”

Charlie’s eyes flickered from Minerva’s solemn eyes to Y/N’s slightly confused ones, before he nodded, “Alright. Seems like I’m spending the night at Hogwarts then.”

–

Dinner that night was amusing to say the least. As most students were at home with their families, those who stayed behind all fit in the long table that was usually the Head Table. Minerva, Charlie, and Y/N tried their hardest to contain their smiles at the incredulous looks that some of the students had.

For some, it was their first time being in such close and intimate proximity to their professors. Others were wary of the attendance of the non-Hogwarts staff member, partly because he was a dragon tamer and mostly because he was Professor L/N’s boyfriend.

Y/N’s heart had melted, however, at the sight of Charlie having a chat with the younger students. She had a flashback of summers at the Burrow when his younger siblings still weren’t old enough to attend Hogwarts, and how they looked at him with wide eyes and thought everything he said was gospel.

“And then he opened his mouth so big I thought I was done for,” he spoke with such a tone that even Y/N was drawn in, “But turns out the old bugger was just going in for a yawn.”

The end of his story elicited a giggle from the youngest student at the table and Y/N was sure that her heart was positively a pile of goo.

As discreetly as she possibly could, she placed her hand on top of Charlie’s thigh and grinned cheerfully as he took the signal and placed his larger one on hers.

“Is it bad if I said that I’m glad you’re going to be here tonight?” she whispered when most of the attention wasn’t on them anymore.

“Absolutely not.” Charlie grinned and squeezed her hand. “Don’t you think the Floo being down sounds a little odd, though?”

The pair glanced at each other and then their eyes drifted towards the Headmistress. As if she could read their minds–which was entirely possible–Minerva caught their eyes and smirked from behind her goblet as she took a sip from it.

“Honestly, who knows what Minerva can come up with,” Y/N murmured, “She could tell us that there was a rogue Ministry gryffin creating potions in the dungeons and we would believe her.”

The nonchalance of her statement choked out a loud laugh from Charlie. The stilted noise coming from him as he tried to contain his amusement ended up making her giggle as well. As the group finished up with their meal, the pair of them would catch each other’s eyes once in a while and another round of trying to repress their laughs would begin.

They waited as everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall, stomachs full and eyes slightly droopy from the big meal. Their hands found each other as they walked down the chilly halls, providing a source of heat and comfort in the midst of so much cold.

Once they reached Y/N’s quarters, Charlie flopped down on the bed with a sigh, stretching out on the comforter with a groan.

Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to crawl onto the bed, tucking herself at his side. The familiar warmth of Charlie’s strong arm wrapping around her was enough for her to sigh contentedly, closing her eyes and succumbing to the gentle pull of sleep.

“Wait, wait…” she heard him mumble, feeling the words vibrate through his chest.

A groan escaped her lips as she felt him shift, pulling the both of them into a seated position.

“Can’t, ‘m comfy here,” she grumbled, refusing to open her eyes.

Instead of replying, Charlie carefully maneuvered them so that she lay back on the cold sheets and he slipped off the bed. It was silent for a few moments, save for the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. Y/N was tempted to crack open her eyes just to see what he was up to, but the comfort posed by the bed was too strong.

She knew he would eventually come back, and he did, the bed dipping as he kneeled on the space next to her.

“Love,” he whispered, his hand brushing her cheek softly.

“What’s it?” she mumbled, finally easing her eyes open.

Beside her, sitting on the backs of his heels, Charlie held out a wrapped gift. The sight of him with a sheepish smile on his face, hands fidgeting nervously with the ribbon wrapped around the package, was enough for Y/N to sit up quickly.

“Charlie?” she asked, tentatively taking the gift from him, “What’s this?”

Her boyfriend cleared his throat before speaking, “I, erm, I was going to wait to have this delivered to you on Christmas morning but, I figured I’d rather see you open it in person.”

Y/N didn’t need any more explanation as she tore open the wrapping. An intricately designed box opened to reveal the most beautiful necklace she had ever laid her eyes on. It was fairly simple, the design, a single pearl-like object in the center of a silver chain. If it weren’t shifting through iridescent hues of pink then blue then green then purple, she would have thought it were a pearl.

Tentatively, her fingers glided over the small round thing and it was warm to the touch.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her eyes flitting upwards to meet Charlie’s.

“You like it?” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I love it!” she grinned, “Will you put it on me?”

For having such large and calloused hands, Charlie was nimble and quick with the clasp of the necklace, his fingers sending shivers down her spine as he placed the necklace on her.

“It’s made out of the shell of an Antipodean Opaleye’s egg,” he explained when she turned to face him once more, “I asked a friend of mine back in Romania if he could fashion it onto a necklace. I saw the shell and thought it would look stunning on you, I was right.”

With a soft smile, Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck and she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple stayed in each other’s arms for a long time, relishing in the warmth and comfort of the other. When they finally managed to get dressed for bed and Y/N was tucked under Charlie’s arm for the night, their hearts were full.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” he whispered as they were lulled to sleep.

–

add yourself to my taglist!

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes @cruciostyles @writingsomewrongs

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic @lifeofkaze @oldschoolkiddo @turtletaylor98 @id-kill-to-be-an-assassin

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley imagines #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley fics #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x y/n #tw meal mention #tw implied sex

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regina-dei-fiori · 3 years

Text

✦─chapter: 1/? ( ↣ )

✦─wordcount: 1.2k+

✦─genre: angst with a happy ending, fluff, friends to lovers, college/human au

✦─fandom: moominvalley

✦─pairing: snufmin (snufkin x moomin)

✦─summary: as the night, cold air hits my face, i come here because i want to understand. understand you of all people. you've been so good to me, and i feel as if i've been unfair to you. will you help me sort things out?

or: when moomin and snufkin have their first big fight, they find themselves discovering new things about each other.

✦─loosely inspired by the song two slow dancers, by the one and only mitski

✦─read and support on ao3 💕

a/n: waaah, here we are finally. it is i, secret anon who asked @hanekdrawsmoomins if they could write fanfics about their au muahahaha. im quite excited for this, since this is my first time writing like, actual serious fanfics lol. but yeah,,, this one’s going to be a lil too much on the angsty side since ive been on my feels, but i sure do hope you guys enjoy lmao.

HOWEVER, happy ending is promised, so don’t worry about that dsjhgjgdskg

also, if anyone would a tag list to be created, plz tell me in the comments!

finally, i would just like to thank the amazing @iemondropsss for being my beta reader!! i really appreciate it <33

so, with nothing left to say, let’s get right into it >:))

-He's outside, Moomin,- a voice says from behind. -In the hallway.

I turn my head around quickly, alert from the sudden new sound. I relax when I realize it was just Snorkamiden. I make out her face in the middle of the club-like flashing lights. I'm sitting in a chair, decorated with pink and red paper strips. The music is so loud in the gymnasium, I could barely catch what she was saying.

The worried look she's wearing says more than a thousand words. I know who she's talking about, but I choose to appear that I don't.

-Who's outside?- I say as nonchalantly as possible, as I turn my head back to the table and start playing with the plastic cup in front of me. Snorkmaiden sees through my act tho. She always does.

She huffs, changing her expression to one that is not at all amused.

-Stop acting stupid. You know exactly who I'm talking about.

I take the cup and slurp the near nonexistent juice. Why is he even here? Didn't he say that he never wanted to see me again? Is he just playing around? Should I go see him?

Fuck, I really want to see him again--

No. Control yourself, Moomin. You're mad at him, remember?

I stay there, thinking for a while. I feel Mai and Sniff's eyes on me. Sniff is sitting at the same table as me. I know he's worried about me. He's been more nervous than usual, giving shaky looks to Mai from across the dancefloor before we sit down together, trying to find an answer as to what was going on.

-You can't stay like this forever, Moomin. You two will have to talk things out at some point...

-But does it have to be right now?- I turn back to see her again, my eyes pleading with the false hope of putting the confrontation off longer. Snorkmaiden doesn’t seem to change her mind.

We have a quick staring contest before she speaks again.

-He literally came running from his house, you insufferable idiot. Doesn't that mean something to you?

I almost knock my chair over from standing up too fast, and I really hope no one noticed. I don’t need more embarrassing attention than I already have.

-What? How do you even know that?

-It's easy to tell, he's panting like crazy.

I lean against the table’s edge as I try to make sense of what he has done.

What does he think he’s doing? Has he gone out of his mind? Why would he do something so stupid? Go run from his house to here, in this goddamn weather? Is he serious? And what for? Did he...?

I stay paralized at the mere thought of it. No, it can't be. He didn't just…

-Well, maybe... maybe he forgot something in his locker-, I say in a desperate attempt to regain my cool. An attempt that, of course, goes in vain.

-Moomin, we both know he doesn't care about school work, or at least not to that degree. What could he possibly forget at school that would be so important for him to come running like that in the middle of a freezing night?

Her stare wears me down. I don't wanna say it, I don't even want to think about it. I wouldn't like to get my hopes up for nothing. I wouldn't like to get hurt…

But then again, why would he come?

I look down at the floor, meditating for a second. If I go out there, it will be inevitable for us to talk again. I'll have no choice but to listen to what he has to say.

And for some reason, that scares me to death.

Because…

What happens if he actually meant what he said? What if he actually doesn't want to talk to me anymore? I don't think I would be able to handle that.

I sigh heavily. My head is spinning like crazy. He's outside right now. He's right there. And you, sir, need answers, don't you? Once you do this, you'll be able to sleep more peacefully tonight (hopefully).

It really can't be that bad, right? If things go south, we'll just... Well, we'll just stop talking to each other and that’ll be that…

I shake that thought out as fast as it comes. If I think too much I won't be able to get anything done.

I turn my head back up, to see Snorkmaiden anticipating a final decision from me. I catch my breath one last time. Here goes nothing, I guess.

-Where is he, exactly?

I can see her body relax after those words come out. I can even swear I see a small smile tease her face.

-Next to the janitor's room, around the corner.

I adjust my tuxedo, and Mai finally breaks from her static position, placing her hand on my shoulder.

-Good luck.

I nod curtly as my answer and start walking towards the gymnasium's exit, fighting the urge to look back. I hope Mai can take the work of explaining to Sniff what the hell is going on. I feel bad for not being able to tell him myself, but sometimes even I don't know how to decipher these situations myself.

I hear one of the boys of the basketball team call after me before going through the door, but I already nod to the teachers outside in the hallways that I’m just passing through. I quickly explain I'm going to the restroom, and I hope to God the coach doesn't notice that I'm sweating quite a bit.

I don't even know what I'm going to say once I get to him. We haven't talked in a couple of days now. He's good at avoiding people when he sets his mind to it. Who’s even supposed to start the conversation? That is implying he actually did come all this way just to talk to me. Damn, what if we're all wrong and he really just came to pick something up? Ah, this shouldn't be so complicated-

My thoughts stop once I turn around the corner. I stop on my tracks once I hear faint sobs. There appears to be no one at first glance, but then I notice a lump on the floor, right next to the door of the janitor's.

I don't really know how to proceed. But before I can do anything, he notices me. He's wearing his green hoodie's cap tightly over his head when he raises his face. He watches me for a couple more seconds before slowly taking it off, revealing something that oh so breaks my heart.

His eyes are red and swollen, and I realize that this is the first time I’ve ever seen him crying. His eyes are also sporting deep dark circles underneath them, and it looks like he hasn't taken off the hoodie in a while.

He just looks... So weak. So defeated. So hopeless. All I want to do now is go and push his hair away from his eyes and wipe his tears away. I want to hold him and tell him I promise everything will be okay. I have to remind myself that we have to talk first before anyone can be assured that they are loved.

-Moomin...- is all he can say the moment he notices it's me. He looks like he's about to burst into tears again.

Snufkin.

#moomin #moominvalley #moomin college au #moomin human au #snufkin #little my #snorkmaiden #moomin sniff #moominmamma #moominpappa #snufmin #moomin fanfic #snufmin fanfic #moominvalley fanfic #moomintroll #tove jansson #regina scrive

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