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#i waited so patiently for so long to bully him into drawing it for me
love-toxin · 1 year
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guess ill just make bully eddie fall in love with me/j.
<33
(cws: bully!eddie, non/dubcon, bruises, choking, sadism, fucked up dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, f!angelface.)
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bully!Eddie knows you're acting weird when you start coming to the picnic table of your own volition. he doesn't have to slip a note in your locker or throw one at your head in class--you come whether he wants you to or not, which he already pegs as odd. he makes you wait somewhere in the trees when he has a customer coming by, but otherwise it's just an opportunity to get his dick sucked under the table, so it's not like he's gonna complain. but it's weird.
after that, it's a myriad of things. you answer his phone calls almost mutely, no whimpers or pleas of Eddie, please, I have tests to study for, he can just hear you breathe quietly over the receiver before you agree with a little 'ok'. you bring cookies for Hellfire one week, and get the door slammed in your face--but when he opens it hours later, you're sitting in the hall, waiting patiently with the tupperware in your lap before you try to hand them off again. suddenly you're too good for the bus but not good enough for his van, and start asking him for rides home, knowing fully well he'll have his hand in your lap and a soaked patch in your panties when he drops you off. when he makes some stupid joke, you giggle. and he snaps that he wasn't talking to you, but you just utter out a 'sorry' without the smile dropping from your face. and now, for some reason, you keep wanting to kiss him when he's got you in his bed. usually you hate it, hate when he slobbers all over your mouth and sticks his tongue down your throat, but now you're the one kissing him. kissing his jaw and his cheeks and his lips as you jerk him off with your hand, sweetly suckling on his bottom lip and humming at the feel of his stubble against your skin. you don't get upset or shove him off when he leaves marks now, either--which he's doing a lot more lately, peppering your neck and your tits and your thighs with bruises and indentations of his teeth.
somehow, it's something as simple as you giving him a gift that finally crosses the line. you're waiting at the picnic table for him that day, looking shyer than usual, a box being played with in your hands until you spot him approaching. the black onyx pendant on a long, silver chain gets thrown and hits you square in the chest when he opens it, and while you're already flinching at the hit Eddie's grabbing you by the hair and yanking your head back, looming over you with the threat of spitting in your mouth as he demands to know what the hell you think you're doing.
"you trying to bribe me, huh? wanna sweet talk me into leaving you be? not gonna fuckin' happen, sweetheart. your ass is mine, nobody gets to bully you unless it's me."
and you shake your head as best you can with his hand fisting at your locks, but you've got that moronic goddamn grin on your face, even when he brings his other hand up to squeeze your throat and leaves your feet scrabbling against the dirt.
"you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid," you finally gasp out, that smug look lighting a fire in his belly. it's not anger--not something that would make him want to throw you around, or shove you against a locker, or embarrass you in front of everyone in the cafeteria. it's something else, something that draws him into letting you go but shoving you back, so you land on your ass with a grunt and have no option but to watch as he stands over you.
"I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, get that through your head. your body's all I fucking want."
"d'you always blush when you tell the truth?"
why the fuck are you pinning him so well? that grin's so irritating on your stupidly pretty face, not even a glance spared towards your skirt rucked up so high that your panties are obviously showing. Eddie hates feeling small like this, feeling like you've got all the control and you're just playing him like you're a puppet master with a hand up his ass.
the only way to make it go away is to do so by force. he's gonna rub that bratty smirk off your mouth if it takes him hours, and he's gonna wrap that shitty little gift you got him around his neck so it hits you in the face every time he slides his cock into that bare, warm pussy of yours. he's gonna take his own pic necklace off and choke you with it as he fucks you in the dirt, he swears to god, if that's what it takes--and when your skirt's all covered in dirt and grass stains, and you've got those deep bruises in a ring around your throat, when you're crying and shaking and his cum's pouring out of that sore little cunt, Eddie's gonna show you what happens when spoiled little shits like you need to learn their place.
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miksy63 · 7 months
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Boyfie
18+ MDNI
Tooth-rotting fluff, Izuku is a giver, Izuku x fem reader
Warnings: soft smut, slight dumification (I think)
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Thinking about Deku in his mid-twenties…
Deku who still can’t believe he’s made it as a hero and now has more money than he knows what to do with. He spoils you rotten, using his money to buy you clothes, shoes and anything your little heart desires. You’re his pretty little girlfriend and anything you want, you’ll get.
He can’t help but stare at you on the dance floor, watching with  a lovesick gaze as he gushes drunkenly to his friends. Not caring that his buddies poke fun at his rambling, all he can think is “I’m so lucky” “She makes me so happy” “Isn’t she beautiful Kacchan??”.  Bakugou almost left the bar early just to escape the damn nerd’s constant chatter about you. Sometimes he would even joke that you had his friend under some kind of spell. Bakugou didn’t know how right he was to think that.
The delicate way you hold him and caress his scarred hands, letting him nuzzle into your chest after a long day patrolling and saving countless lives. He loves how you gently clean his scars and massage his sore muscles, and your poor attempts at hiding the worry that one day he might come back with more than a few scars, or that he might not come back at all.
Deku hates worrying you, his baby, his everything, his princess. Everything about you has him falling deeper under your spell.
But what charms him the most about you is how good you are for him, the way you let him spread you open and bully his way inside your plush heat. He groans, pressing into you with his weight and making your body heat up when he draws circles into your clit. Fucking you so good, making your mind hazy, “just relax honey, it’s okay”, he pounds into you so hard, only focused on making you feel good. 
Gazing into your eyes with so much love it’s overwhelming “let me take care of you baby” you let him love you just the way he likes. All you can do is let out small moans and whimpers “l-love you…Izu, please”. He loves it when you’re like this, his adorable sweetheart crying out for her “Zuku”, begging him to take care of her, to love her. And who is he to deny you? Not when you beg so nicely, your soft lips curling sweetly as you quiver and shake under him.
Deku who, after he’s filled you up, his cum slowly leaking down your thighs and your pussy shaking, pampers you. He effortlessly lifts your body to set you on top of his chest, stroking your back and waiting patiently for you to come back to him. “My pretty girl…so good f’me” he praises you endlessly, whispering words like silk in your ear. He rubs your whole body down in the shower, caressing you delicately and massaging your favourite lotion into your skin afterwards. His strong arms carry you, now clean and dressed in one of his t-shirts back to the bed, setting you down carefully. 
Deku who curls his massive body around your smaller one, burying you in his chest, softly kissing your forehead as you fall asleep, promising to always be there, to be your hero. No matter what, he’ll always spoil his baby, because in his eyes, nothing he gives you could ever be enough to repay the gift of your love that is sweet and pure, the little things that make his eyes sparkle with the brightest smile. Deku who's under your spell and hopes you never let go.
Just Deku who’s so boyfriend-shaped…
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This is my first time writing smut and I think it's right that I tried with Deku.
I'm also surprised that I don't completely hate it lol. <3
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todderwodders · 12 days
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WIP WHENEVER
Enver gets big feelings that are now Faline's problem (tw whipping)
“Is she younger or older?”
He is surprised. Surprised enough to stand with a grunt, feeding another log to the fire. It crackles and snaps with wet resin.
“Older,” he answers patiently.
“You do seem like a younger brother,” she says agreeably, almost teasing him. He feels himself swallow, but Faline does not press. She is not chatting for nothing, she is not pushing a conversation past its limit, as if she is nervous.
“Do I?” He stands, taking his cat in hand, luxuriating in the little barbs scrapping across his open palm.
“You do,” she agrees gently.
“Tell me”, Enver begins, letting the tails of the whip flow through his hands. “You're about to have yourself whipped bloody, and yet you are calm. Why?”
“Oh? Is that what you intend?” Faline asks with a calm that draws him in.
“It is, lady.” It is simple. It is so simple to take her.
“No ‘fruit’ tonight?” She chides, one claw trailing over her knee in the same shape she has touched his chin.
“If you’d like to be called ‘fruit’, fruit. Do not dodge my question.”
“Yes, men with long strips of leather do not like being put off. Let us see –” Faline leans into him, fingers splaying wide in her lap as her stomach concave before she snaps back to an acceptable posture. “It is what it is.”
Enver arches an eyebrow. “That is all?”
“That is all,” she agrees.
“Do you think I will not hurt you? I will, fruit, I promise you that.”
“No,” she says evenly, “I am well aware.”
Enver leans into her back, presses a kiss to her nose. “I would like you to put your hands on the floor, in a position you will be able to keep. I will not wait if you fall.”
Faline nods. A strand of hair falls into her face, trailing her cheek as she presses herself into position. Her tail tucks itself beneath her, coiling around her feet as if she were a statue of a thoughtful demoness, hiding her naked shame from the world. He does not believe this girl has ever felt shame a day in her life, though. “Yes, milord.”
He stands, steps back for a moment as he watches her. She has lost most of the weight she has gained while in his home, her ribs showing through the skin of her back, the ridges of her spine nearly standing out from her body. All of that work, and it has been washed away.
Enver sighs.
He trails the cat across her rump, her back, her shoulders. He lets her feel the knots, the little jagged ridges of iron that peak at irregular intervals in the cores of some, but not all of each tail. He must be careful, he thinks, not to rip the cat back at certain angles.
“You will take ten lashes.” He says softly, only barely audible above the fire. “One for each time you ignored me.”
“That is only five.”
Of course she kept count.
“Five more for the cost of the cleric and the blood on my back porch.”
“Oh, yes,” she says, voice suddenly soft, “please allow me to apologize to Delphine later.”
“Don't bother, he says, jerking the cat back lazily, almost gently. “She'll only bully you into cleaning it up.”
He lands the first blow to the base of her back, a hair below where her tail parts from her body. The blow is not much, barely ushering in a crack of flesh on tanned flesh, but a barb has cut into Faline from one side to another. The yelp is quiet, but not restrained.
“It is beneath you.”
Another crack across the small of her back, another gasp as she shivers against two more sections of split skin. Tieflings are hardier, their skin thicker than a humans but not universally so. She does not respond to him, does not fight her body as another blow comes and she shudders again.
The fourth is across her shoulders, and Enver takes his time to aim the tails so they strike with the flow of atrophied once-wings. The flesh is tender here, and he catches the sound of an open mouthed sob just before he strikes again, this time from shoulder to ass. He feels sweat begin to prickle at his brow, feels his breath picking up.
The cuts from the last strike are deep, he can see the shift of muscle and skin in five particularly deep lacerations just before blood begins to pool down her back. The ruby like sheen of it looks beautiful against her skin.
Faline looks over her shoulder at him then, eyes large, face flushed. He can hear her breath, see her body spasm in the shock of this punishment.
It’s breathtaking.
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kkmeeluqq · 2 years
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Hiiiiiiii its me again, I wrote a thing and then lost steam after writing it all in one go so it's unfinished but I appreciate you allowing me to have a go with your AU.
Sebastian looked up from the book in his hands when Charles walked in with blood dripping down his face, despite the best efforts of the first aid kit dressing pressed against the head wound. He could guess just how sticky and hot it had become, soaked as vibrantly red as it was.
"Oh, goodness Charles," Sebastian huffed, shutting his book and standing up to attend to his most regular patient. "I don't know how you get so injured playing a non-contact sport."
It earned him a shrug and a sheepish smile. He gently prodded Charles over to sit on the examination bed, leaving Charles to blink up at him slowly as he pulled on some gloves, stood between his ajar legs and eased the dressing away from his blood-matted hair.
"It was a tree this time," Charles answered.
Sebastian paused in his motions and met his eye. "I didn't think there were any trees near the football pitch."
Charles' cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked away and quietly replied. "There aren't."
Sebastian hummed and tried to bite down on the grin which threatened to break out upon his face. It probably wasn't entirely appropriate for a member of staff to laugh at a students' clumsiness and propensity for injury. His growing familiarity and soft spot for the boy was going to get him in trouble someday if he wasn't careful.
Instead, he tended to the small cut hidden just past Charles' hairline, gently tilting his head this way and that as he cleaned it of any stray bark or dirt. Charles' gaze had returned at some point to look up at him with quiet, all-consuming intrigue, such as Sebastian had come to expect during these last few weeks since first meeting him.
Originally, he had thought that perhaps the boy was being bullied for all his injuries and was coming to Sebastian's office for refuge and someone to talk to, but it had been a long while since it was made obvious that he was quite popular and well-liked by other students (due in part to some concerned sleuthing on Sebastian's end). No, Sebastian had come to conclude, Charles wasn't looking for company or a confident – he was just accident prone.
"There we go," Sebastian said finally. "Just keep this pressed against your head for a few more minutes to make sure the blood is clotting and then you can get back to training."
Charles made a face at that, and Sebastian really did grin at him then, flicking his gloves into the waste bin.
"You know, if you hate it that much, you can quit. Nobody is forcing you to keep playing."
Charles rolled his eyes and fell back to lean against his elbows, legs still swinging slightly as they hung off the bed. Sebastian noticed that his knees were dirtied with mud and his shorts rode up his thighs ever so slightly.
"Pierre is forcing me to keep playing. He says more girls show up to games when I'm there, even if I don't play. Especially if I don't play, because then they'll see how bad I am."
Laughing, Sebastian came back to the bedside and grabbed Charles wrist and tugged on it gently, earning him a confused blink before the boy shifted his weight to his other elbow and let Sebastian pull his arm. Sebastian carefully lifted it and then pressed the hand with the bandage in it back to his forehead, his own hand covering Charles'.
"Hm. I can see how that must be very hard for you to deal with – attention from pretty girls who are interested in you," he said, smiling slyly down at him.
Charles licked at his lower lip, leaving the sheen of spit to catch the light and draw Sebastian's gaze.
"Yes," came the response. "Very hard."
anon…..🥹 I love you…. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting! I’ve been pondering what I should draw in return for your lovely work… I love the tension between them! seb teasing our innocent poor charles… I will carve this work on my tombstone and quote it in the first chapter of my autobiography…(I’m not writing an autobiography but you know what I mean…🥹)
I hope you like what I drew for you❤️ you’re incredible! looking forward to reading more of your works in the future!!🥹 🌹
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theskeletonprior · 2 years
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OC Superlatives Tag
My lovely husband @rosieartsie​ tagged me. Under the cut, because this is going to be a long one. This is an open tag, because I’m pretty sure a bunch of folx have already done this one.
Most Arrogant
I think that Marlowe Jewel, at least before becoming the Devil, or perhaps even more so since then, is a pretty arrogant individual. Not on purpose, but he has a certain expertise, and he’s not afraid to stick his nose up about it.
Most Humble
Ravenot, hands down. They have a legendary reputation, but they walk along the road with nothing to their name but the things they need to do their work, and a few flowers plucked from the roadside. His humility is pretty hard to shake, too, except in situations where disregard for his identity is causing harm to others. Then you’ll see what it means to be the Unmade, that’s for sure.
Most Charming
That would be Kelradest. He’s a ranking member of the White Court, with an illustrious record of service, but they’re the People’s Knight for a reason. And that reason is that they are perfectly lovely. He has a good sense of humor, he’s warm, attentive, and just the right amount of talkative.
Most Talkative
Simonery. He talks when he’s nervous, but being a spymaster means he has to watch what he says all the time. It’s quite a pickle to be in, but he navigates this by talking about nothing in particular, and by exaggerating whatever situation he’s in that’s made him feel the need to go off.
Least Talkative
Syl. If it can be said in a single word, they’ll say it that way. They usually average around three words at a time. And that’s if they like you.
Most Relatable
I think Haven or Zig get this one. They are both grounded in reality, which helps with that. There’s some big mood in having to return to your old hometown and your old friends. And there’s also some big mood in being desperate enough to find a place that you risk it all and answer an ad that was almost surely placed by a serial murderer.  (Just me?)
Least Relatable
I think the Piper is hard to understand, in part because he exists as a distortion to begin with. Everything he experiences is vivid and intense, but at the same time, it’s a matter of fact. It’s nothing personal, but as the Piper, he will do what he is meant to do. He will collect his due.
Most Ambitious
This one goes to Zephrinus Pact. The man who would bring the universe to heel if he could.
Most Easy-Going
Erato is the most chill. All she wants to do is live in comfort with her doting husband. She doesn’t have the time to get riled up.
Most High-Strung
Ennyn is pretty high-strung. If they were mortally wounded, they’d check their hair and makeup before dying.
Most Pretentious
Oh, this goes to Marlowe Jewel. They are literally an antique dealer (or at least they were), so that’s part of the job description, arguably. I think Ashtoryan can be a bit pretentious too--he’s a huge nerd.
Most Cheerful
That’s Draska. The man with the hands. No matter what happens, they always find it in them to crack a joke, to try and make a bit of light. Life’s too short to spend it frowning.
Most Patient
Ravenot. He can literally stand in one spot all day and all night if he has to, and that, to them, is not even a terribly long wait. I think Zephrinus Pact is a close second, but he can become impatient, despite his long life. 
Most Diligent
This one goes to Peltarion. They are precise, focused, and they seldom forget to review all available information in drawing up a plan.
Most Bullied
Irastenys for sure. Chiefly by the people who love him. But also by me. What a trashbag.
Most Loved
I think this one goes to Erato. Kalmin is a lot. But I think that Prophet gives her a run for her money, because he married a pirate lord who is also a lot.
Most Terrifying
Oh, that’s Zephrinus Pact. There are entire archives dedicated to the way he kills. But I have a lot of OCs who are pretty horrifying, I think. The Piper is also very frightening.
Most Hated
There’s someone who earns this, but it’s spoilers to say who it is. If you know, you know.
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niieve · 1 year
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[ lingerie ] but like he is In the lingerie. silas and val
valentine’s inbox memes   ♡ [ lingerie ]  to gift my muse sexy lingerie
"alright, alright, i'm sitting, i'm sitting." at val's insistence silas dropped down on the couch, allowing his snack to momentarily be set aside in favor of giving val the attention he was requesting. not that it was an incredibly difficult task - after all, val wanting attention more often than not usually resulted in pleasure being received on his end, so he supposed he could take a minute or two out of his not-so-busy schedule to give his boyfriend what he needed. it was valentine's day, after all. or, as he liked to call it; valentino's day.
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"what's so damn important that you had to pull me away from my munchies, huh?" though he was mostly just teasing, he didn't have to wait too long for an answer - even if the one he was given didn't have any words attached. val's shirt coming off was more than good enough for him. the sight, familiar as it was, just never seemed to get old, and was enough to bring a smile to silas' lips, his fingers reaching out to brush over val's side, before they were swatted away. oh. so that's how it was.
silas was far from a patient man, a fact val was more than likely completely aware of, but he knew that when it came to this kind of thing, to val surprising him, that is, the wait always paid off. besides - val never seemed to make him wait too long, at least, not unless he'd done something wrong. which... he hadn't lately, at least as far as he could remember. he'd been a good boy, he'd gotten val some nice, thoughtful gifts for the holiday, and they had reservations later that night at a fancy restaurant, ones that he'd had to make over a month ago. a big step up from previous relationships, where he'd typically forget about the day entirely, until it was too late, and he'd wound up with an annoyed significant other. with val, things were different. he gave a shit, he tried his hardest to make him happy, and though he was far from perfect at it, he liked to think of himself as, at the very least, an alright boyfriend.
based on the way val was continuing to undress, albeit, slowly as hell, it seemed like he wasn't the only one that seemed to think so. he'd done okay, for once in his life had maybe even been successful at something, and had a relationship he could take pride in. one that- wait. what was this? his gaze lowered as the pants were removed, momentarily stunning him at a completely unexpected sight. well, this was different.
black, lacy fabric. a sight that wasn't entirely new to him - with the exception of the body it was currently resting on. the contrast of the delicate material resting over val's chiseled body was hot, drawing a whine out of silas when he remembered he'd been silently instructed not to touch, just moments before.
bullying, that's what it was. his boyfriend was evil, the rudest, nastiest man on the- oh. okay. before he could finish his thought, or let the pout grow on his lips anymore than it already had, val was in his lap, grabbing his hands, and placing them over the material he'd been so desperate to reach out for. maybe not quite so evil after all.
"god, i love you." his hands squeezed and grabbed and pulled, not holding back as he let himself enjoy his present - easily the best he'd ever received. "if i didn't already have your name on my skin, you know i'd be making an appointment right now, because goddamn."
no matter how much time, money, or effort he'd put into the gifts he'd picked out for val, there was no way he could compete with this. that being said... there was still one gift he had yet to give him. well, today at least - or... okay, technically, this afternoon, at least. but was it his fault they had such an awesome and active sex life? not entirely. the man currently sitting in his lap didn't exactly put a stop to it, now did he? "come on, pretty boy. push those things to the side and let me blast ya with cupid's arrow, yeah?" perhaps not his sexiest pick up line, but... at least it was festive, right?
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nodirectionhome · 3 years
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Hey I just wanna say that I despise the Steve drawing that you have as your header image and every time I open your blog it makes my head hurt. Also you are very cool and I hope you’re having a good day :)
how DARE you insult such a masterpiece??? i’m shaking rn the bravery he must’ve had to create such an inspired work... all for naught...
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adorerdraco · 4 years
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Not My Type (Like You) ✧ Draco x Reader
Request: you should like do a one shot or even another mini series about amortentia/love potions in general. i’d soooo read that
AU SEVENTH YEAR WHERE VOLDY NEVER CAME BACK <3 f**k that mf !
italics are for flashbacks <3 i love them if you couldn’t tell 
Warnings: mean!draco, cursing, more mature themes/ideas, little bit of spice towards the end teehee but not too much bc idk how to write smut to save my life
Words: 4.5K
A/N: I saw a tiktok that kinda inspired this and i couldn’t get the idea out of my heaaaad if anyone knows which one im talking ab send it my way so i can show !!!! ALSO I LOVE THIS ONESHOT I LOVE DRACO AND I AM IN MY FEELINGS this might be my new favoriteeeee
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Draco Malfoy was insufferable.
The Prince of Slytherin was unbearable for many reasons, things you've been taking notice of since your first year at Hogwarts when you accidentally had the ”pleasure” of interacting with him when he called you stupid in a class for reciting a spell incorrectly. That day, a hostility blossomed. A hostility that ensued nothing but teasing, mocking, and criticizing that would sometimes go too far and you'd both have to be pulled away from each other by your friends’ before either of you said anything excessively harsh that had no return.
You often felt like Malfoy sought you out to bother you and only for that. You could be sitting in the Quad with friends, conversing and laughing like nothing in the world mattered, and a few minutes later you'd be hurling insults towards the blond across the courtyard after he would yell something infuriating to you with that smug smirk on his face and his goons laughing wildly beside him as if he just said the most hilarious thing they've ever heard. 
On the days you’d ignore him, not having the patience or the energy to deal with him, he would still somehow find a way to push your buttons. Little things here and there like passing you in the corridors and tugging at the ends of your hair gingerly like a child but enough to tick you off or sending you notes from across the class in the form a small fluttering bird with a lousy drawing of you usually with a message along the lines of, “Y/L/N, hopefully, this note finds itself in the nest of hair you have today xx DM.”
In all honesty, there wasn’t a day you didn’t encounter Draco and it’s been that way for seven long years. Neither of you ever gotten tired of mildly or spitefully bullying each other and neither of you ever dreamed of stopping. He was one of the few constants in your daily life, and you in his. It was like you both lived on annoying the other, and in the midst of all the chaos that you brought to one another; there was a small, teeny, tiny acquaintance - not that either of you would ever admit it. You may have noticed it the time you bet each other ten galleons for who would win in the Triwizard Tournament your fourth year and he bet on Viktor Krum while you on Cedric Diggory. (he’s very much alive i refuse to think otherwise.)
“So you’re telling me, your mother is the reason why you’re not at Durmstrang,” you scoffed. “This whole time I could have been saved four years of headaches.”
“You’re just jealous some of us have more opportunities than others,” he snarks back pompously. “Unlike you, I hardly believe you would be graceful enough to even be considered admission into Beauxbatons.”
You had gone to see the last task of the competition just like the rest of the schools, all packed tightly onto the stands and watching carefully the exit of the maze. Naturally, you had arrived with your own friend groups, but somewhere during the time of sitting there and even being a few rows behind the blond and his minions, the two of you had met in the middle bench after he was trying to prove something wrong to you. 
When Cedric appeared back in front of the stands with the glowing Triwizard cup held high over his head in victory and every Hogwarts student loudly celebrating, you had jumped up from your seat and shook wildly an irked Draco beside you. He roughly shrugged your hands off his stiff shoulder, looking up at you with a sneer that you met with a bright beaming smile.
“Pay up, Malfoy!” You held out your hand towards him, opening and closing your fingers to receive the bet money. “I believe it was ten galleons you owe me.”
He begrudgingly reached into his coat pocket and fished out the coins, counting them defeatedly before tossing them into your palm. “What a waste of galleons.”
“Hey, you made the bet,” you reminded him with a still very bright smile. You shoved the money into your pockets, keeping one of the gold coins in between your fingers, and gave him a small hair ruffle that he harshly recoiled from before you turned to jump back up towards the level of stands your friends were originally sitting at.
“Were you really sitting with Malfoy this whole time?” One of your friends questioned when you reached them, a goading smirk on his face.
“Ooooh, she definitely was,” another friend piped up, wiggling her eyebrows. “They’re obsessed with each other.”
“Shut up,” you smack her arm casually, showing the pair the one gold galleon you were holding. “We are not. I was only sitting with him to get my bet money.”
“Sure,” they drawled in unison, sniggering when you threw your head back in annoyance.
You looked down the rows to see the mop of white hair you just sent into disarray. He was slowly descending the stairs of the stands with Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind him. Almost as if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned back to look at you, his cold gray eyes gazing into yours. It was like everything around you went quiet, the only thing in your focus was him and all you could do was stare back. It wasn’t until your friends started stifling laughter and whispering “aww’s” that you snapped out of the short-lived and odd few second trance you were in. He waited for you to do something before he turned back around, and you did - by holding up both hands; the one golden galleon on your left and your middle finger on your right, grinning to yourself when he rolled his eyes throwing you the finger right back before he finally disappeared into the mob of people below.
You were briskly walking down the corridors, books held tightly to your chest with your friend at your side while you made your way to Advanced Potions with Slughorn after Snape finally made his way into the DADA position. It was an easy class, potions being something you had a knack for and it gave you enough leisure to mess with your “favorite” Slytherin who shared it with you. 
“Look there goes your boyfriend,” your friend teases, elbowing your upper arm roughly and nodding her head down towards the hall to the tall blond appearing around the corner and entering swiftly into the class.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I hate him and he hates me, end of story.”
“You know when you say you hate him, it just sounds like the opposite,” she says tauntingly. “Besides, hate is a strong word and very misplaced. Maybe, it’s just years of built-up tension that both of you have been too nervous to do anything about.”
“Tension? Yeah, I want to strangle him,” you laugh to yourself at the thought.
“Not that tension, idiot,” she shakes her head, “I mean sexual tension...clearly.”
You gave her a horrified look mixed between being disgusted and being offended. You held your hand over your mouth and pretended to gag as dramatically as you could. “I am appalled that you would even say that. I would rather be locked in a room with Filch and Peeves and hear them argue and fight all day than to be with Malfoy like that.”
“Come on, think about it,” she encourages, stopping the two of you a little ways away from the classroom. “You guys 'hate' each other?” She finger quotes the hate, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “When you hate someone, you don’t go out of your way to talk to them every day.”
“It’s not like that,” you wave a hand dismissively. “Also, this isn’t a cliche, this is real life. We hate each other, that is all there is to it.”
You picked up the walk again, your friend to following behind you while letting out a deep and exhausted sigh. You couldn’t help but think about what she said, sure, perhaps at one point you thought Draco was attractive with his bright silver hair, his glittering gray eyes, his little button nose that he would crinkle up every other word he spoke in his charming haughty voice, or the way he’d tower over you in the middle of a conversation gone wrong and he’d be talking lowly to you but all you’d be able to focus on was the sweet scent of apples and cologne that radiated off of him.
“No,” you whispered almost silently to yourself, forcing yourself out of your thoughts and shaking your head from side to side as if it was going to get the image out of your head. He was mean, disrespectful, arrogant, and insulted you daily - even if you both laughed about it or gave props for the perfect jabs.
The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into the dingy Potions classroom was Draco, his focus trained on the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. Just as his eyes were about to flicker down towards you, and sensing that he was about to, you quickly avoided his gaze and concentrated onto Slughorn who was waiting patiently by his desk with a bubbling cauldron for you and your friend to join the crowd in front of him.
“Great! Now that we’re all here,” Slughorn began excitedly, fixing the sleeves of his robes as he grabbed the ladle in the cauldron and began stirring it while continuing his lecture. 
You were trying to listen, capturing only the professor’s last sentence as he called on someone who raised their hand. All attention was thrown out the window when you realized Draco was standing near said classmate, a look of annoyance suddenly clouding his features when his pale eyes met yours.
“What?” He mouthed. You ignored him, trying to turn your concentration back onto Slughorn but nothing he was saying made sense, and right as you caught a word you did understand, a shuffling and an abrupt arm knocking into yours threw you right back out of the loop.
“Watch it,” you snap hushedly when you notice who it is. “Why are you over here?”
“I can’t say hello to my number one fan?” He whispers back, snickering slightly when you scoffed quietly.
“Fan? Says the one who shoved his way through the crowd to come over here,” you grumble, crossing your arms. 
“I hardly shoved,” he mutters. “I only moved because I couldn’t see Slughorn from where I was standing. Not everything’s about you.”
“Really? Because to me, it seemed like you came over here for my attention.”
He let out a breathy chuckle, a patronizing smile making its way onto his face. The type of typical boy smile where his mouth is half agape with his tongue smoothing over his teeth as he stared off across the room with his fingertips rubbing thoughtfully against his jawline as he thought of what to say. You stood still as he bent down, nearing his mouth towards your ear and whispering hotly, “you wish, darling.”
Slughorn sent everyone to their paired tables, and as everyone began moving and Draco sauntered off away from you, you stood stuck there, shocked with the lingering chills that were sent down your spine from your archnemesis’ comment.
“I told you, you’re into each other,” your friend sang expectantly from behind you, grabbing onto your sleeve and directing the two of you towards your table. 
You were working peacefully at your workspace, cutting up, peeling, and crushing the ingredients that your friend was sliding across the surface to you. In the table behind you was where Draco was working annoyingly quiet, tossing the stripped stems of the roses at you that you had to peel, tiny thorns pricking at your ankles through your socks since the bigger thorns had been taken off for the potion. As payback, you would throw back loose extra pearl dust you ground up, giggling tauntingly when he would frown at you for getting the coarse white powder all over his Italian leather shoes and most definitely inside of them as well.
When you, and seemingly the rest of the class, had finally thrown in all the ingredients and the potion promptly finished brewing, beautiful clouds of white and pink smoke began rising from the cauldrons, each one having a lovely scent of first; freshly pressed high-priced linens, then a faint smell of a brand new racing broom out of a box with a freshly polished wood handle that then quickly transformed into a sweet harvest of apples, green specifically, and finally...
“Ugh, gross,” you pinched your nostrils closed, turning your body around and sending a scowl towards Draco’s way. “Malfoy, we get it, your cologne is expensive, now stop spraying it. I was smelling all these wonderful things and you ruined it.”
He arched an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you were crazy. “Are you mad? I didn’t spray anything, I think you’ve finally lost it.”
“Well you laid it on too heavy this morning then, it reeks in here.”
“You’re one to talk, Y/L/N. Did you bathe yourself in that dreadful perfume you wear just now? And that ghastly lip shiner thing you use,” He sneers, crinkling up his nose. “I can’t even think straight, I might vomit.”
“Lip shiner? It’s called lip balm, you prat,” you retort, crossing your arms angrily. “Either way, I haven’t used or sprayed anything either so-”
“For Merlin’s sake!” Your friend suddenly exasperated loudly from beside you making you briskly whirl around to look at her, a look of pure annoyance etched onto her face. “Are you two really that daft? Honestly? Have you been paying attention to anything other than each other? For instance, the potion we just made?”
This gained the attention of your classmates around you in the surrounding tables, turning their heads slightly but not obviously with small knowing smirks on their faces while they snickered quietly and listened. It was soundless as you reached towards the book in front of your friend, pulling it painstakingly slow towards you in fear of the words that were written on the open page.
“Amortentia,” you muttered glumly as you read the page, pushing it away from you dejectedly as everything began to click.
“The reason you’re both smelling each other is because you’re what the other desires and is attracted to. Wow, what a revelation! As if the whole school didn’t already know.”
You were afraid to turn around. You could feel the cold and hard pair of eyes burning holes onto your back and the immediate amount of whispers and giggles of the people around you. Luckily, Slughorn was busy at the other end of the room, working diligently with another pair of students who managed to mess up their potion. 
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco announces finally.
“What’s so ridiculous about it?” You questioned, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you turned again and took notice of the way his lips were curling upwards as if it was the most disgusting thing he could have ever heard.
“Think about it, Y/L/N,” he deadpans. “Why would I ever desire someone like you?”
There had been occasions over the years when you were in this situation. None as drastic and as revealing, but there would be times when friends and others would poke fun and say the exact same thing your friend told you earlier. The usual, “they got the hots for each other!” and you would always brush it off and joke about how you could never, and he’d do the same. It was always amongst laughs and jokes, but as you looked at the Slytherin in front of you - there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his hardened face.
“Piss off, Malfoy,” you seethed, biting down hard on your lip to refrain from lashing out either in tears or in insults, you couldn’t decide. “If I’m so revolting, leave me alone from now on, I mean it.”
“I never said that,” he argues. “You’re just simply not my type.”
For some eerie, awful reason, the words tore into you like a sharpened knife going easily through butter. You were used to his insults, his mocking, his comments about your appearances - but this hurt, and you couldn’t explain why. You thought, for a second, possibly, that maybe your friend was right. Maybe there was a hidden attraction you had for the platinum blond that you buried deep away and one that he had for you. There was no way that was the case now, not at all. 
And for the first time in your life, you couldn’t be more sure of a simple little fact.
You hated him.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
You don’t know how long you spent sitting in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, back against the cold tiled wall with your knees brought up to your chest. Your friends had tried to console you after the public rejection and humiliation, but their words only made you feel worse. You felt silly for being so bothered about being rejected by Malfoy, he wasn’t exactly someone you fancied, to begin with.
After dinner, you went off the grid and found yourself where you’re now sitting. The ghostly girl flew restlessly around you, popping out of her stall now and then to chat but then going back into her abyss of nothing when she learned you were still upset. You noticed it made her a little too pleased, considering the fact it was always her who was miserably wailing about her problems in the bathroom. She tried to hide it and let you talk to her about how you felt, but she gave terrible advice most of the time. 
“Well, if it was me, I would have never started fancying someone who was mean to me,” she mumbled. “Like when Paul Wighorn made fun of my hair for a whole year and laughed when I cried. I hated his guts then and I still do now.”
She had a point, but she was also Myrtle. Nothing about the overly dramatic ghost made sense.
“I don’t fancy him, It’s just weird,” you trail off. “I can’t imagine a day without him, even if he is a complete arse. We always joked about how we hated each other, but I didn’t think he actually meant it, I guess.”
“I think you do fancy him, though,” she whispers knowingly in your ear, making you flinch from her cold draft. “Stop denying it, it’ll only keep making you feel worse. Amortentia doesn’t lie, silly. Maybe when you drink it, but before that, all real feelings are there, whether you know it or not.”
You sat quietly, taking in her words before something came crashing down onto you like a wall of bricks.
“I suppose that means he’ll have to stop denying it too,” she adds thoughtfully. 
“Myrtle,” you rush to get up, smoothing your hair down profusely and fixing the wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re a genius.”
“I am?” She asks excitedly. “What did I say?”
You waved her off, giving her another thank you before rushing out of the bathroom and into the empty corridors. You were trying to go back to your dorm to sleep, hoping that when tomorrow came you would be bold enough to confront the Slytherin Prince but it was thirty minutes past curfew, something you didn’t notice until you were bustling down the steps in a rush and came face to face with the man of the hour himself doing his Prefect patrolling duties.
“Go to your dorm, Y/L/N,” he sneers. “I’ll take away house points, don’t test me,”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That I’ll take away house points? Watch me. Five-”
“No, you twat,” you groan, swatting his arm with your hand. “I don’t believe that I’m not your type.”
He stayed wordless for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks and clenching his jaw as he peered down at you from his lanky height. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t think you were my type until the amortentia made me aware of it,” you answer quietly. “Actually, my friend had a hand in it, but it was mostly the potion.”
Silence, again. Still and deadly. You could hear the large clocks around the school tick and tock, the hundreds of paintings snoring peacefully or chattering quietly. You avoided looking up at the boy in front of you, all of a sudden feeling small under his gaze until you felt cold fingers brush against your cheekbone and then softly through your hair causing you to finally look up into the soft wandering almost blue eyes. 
“I didn’t find out with the amortentia,” he muttered almost reluctantly as if it was the most difficult thing he had to reveal. “I’ve known I’ve liked you for a while.”
“How long is a while?” You curiously wonder aloud.
“I’m not telling,” he smirks. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out one day.”
Both hands came up to rest on your cheeks, slightly cold but soft and tender. It sent chills throughout your body as he took a step closer to you and then closer, backing you carefully into the diagonally ascending stone wall that went in the direction of the stairs. Your breathing was getting uneven, you noticed the way you accidentally switched to manually forcing yourself to inhale and exhale normally when he leaned down with his face now being mere centimeters from yours. It was torture, having your eyes closed and feeling the way his nose was brushing against yours, minty breath warm against your lips as he ghosted over them with his. He was so close, you smelt everything that was in the damn potion that got you here. It sent flutters of warmth down your body, trickling down and seeping deeply into every bone in your body as if this is was the remedy its been needing. This is what you’ve been missing.
When you finally felt a soft pair of lips being pressed into yours, it felt almost unreal that you were there. It was awkward the first couple of seconds, both of you wondering how in the world had you gotten yourselves in this position, but after you relaxed and he found his Prince of Slytherin confidence - it was magic. His lips moved languidly against yours, affectionately and full of longing. He kept his hands on your cheeks, still timid to move anywhere else while you kept yours resting lightly on his sides. It scared you a little, how fast and how easily you melted into each other, like if this was something you’ve been doing with him for years rather than torment the other for laughs. 
You hated the feeling when he pulled away, a gust of freezing castle air passing through the space between you and cooling your lips and face from his contact. His hands dropped down to his sides and he looked down at you with a small smile, a teeny bit smug, but happy. You wanted to feel the same way, but a question still loomed over your head, overpowering the giddiness you were vividly feeling.
“Why did you lie earlier?” You question softly, directing your gaze to the floor. “In class, I mean.”
He thought about his answer for a second, sighing deeply when he realized he had to uncover more truths about himself to you. You took a mental observation at that, he didn’t like to talk about feelings. “You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. I thought I’d beat you to it and reject you before you could reject me.”
“What made you think I’d reject you?” You coaxed. “Other than the fact that I made you a sworn enemy at eleven.”
“Exactly that,” he laughed lightly. “You’re unpredictable, Y/N.”
You smiled to yourself at the realization that he finally used your first name. “So are you, Draco.”
“Not really,” he grins. “Like in just a few moments, for example, I’m going to start snogging you.”
You opened your mouth to encourage him but shut it quickly when he closed the space between the two of you again, this time much closer than he was before. He was flush against you, and when you say you could feel everything; you could feel everything. You were almost begging for him to lean down and kiss you again by the time you felt his hands on you again, running delicately around the exposed skin of your hips when your shirt hiked up an inch on accident. He leaned down again, and with the advantage of his lowered height, you let your hands slide up his arms, biceps, and ultimately the nape of his neck where your fingers continued up into his hair. The breathiest gasp escaped his throat as you tugged at the ends gently, smirking to yourself when he closed his eyes in delight at the touch.
His lips came down onto your fast this time and hastily, pressing himself impossibly closer into you. You could feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hold moving upwards onto your waist as he continued to kiss you fervently. His teeth bit down softly on your bottom lip and you wasted no time in parting them slightly for his tongue to meet yours. You tugged at the platinum strands of hair again, feeling triumphant when a low groaning sound emitted from his throat at the sensation as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further.
You knew you were done for when one of his hands slowly slid up your upper body, stopping first at your collarbones with warm fingertips fluttering over the skin, before he moved it upwards completely and he now had his large hand wrapped comfortably around your neck. You gasped in delight into the kiss, a swarm of butterflies going directly to your lower stomach as he squeezed against the artery in your neck meticulously, the coldness from his Malfoy family crest ring only adding fuel to the fire. He tore his mouth away from yours with his hand still clutched firmly around your throat and you were almost sent into orbit with the look he was giving you. A look filled with desire, adoration, and intensity - his pale gray eyes were much darker, almost a dark blue that resembled the starry night sky on a summer night.
Lips reattached themselves roughly and feverishly against your jawline, peppering long and tender kisses all the way towards your ear and then down towards your collarbones where he was beginning to undo the rest of the top buttons of your school dress shirt. You felt him smile against your hot skin when you’d writhe underneath him, emitting weak whimpers that you couldn’t hold back that he ended up having to clasp a free hand over your mouth as he whispered into your ear to stay quiet.
It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a poorly lit corridor where anyone could walk past and see the frenzy that was unfolding, nor did it matter to Draco that his Prefect duties were long forgotten. Your friend was right, and everyone else for that matter; it wasn’t hate you felt for the blond at all, it was years and years of a craving and a hidden yearning packed with displaced tension.
And now, you were both exactly where you wanted to be; together.
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scaramouche-bully · 3 years
Note
THAT POST ABOUT OVERSTIM MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I WANT TO DESTROY CHILDE HELP. CAN U WRITE SMTH WHERE HIS S/O USUALLY BOTTOMS BUT WANTS TO TRY TOPPING HIM AND HE JUST KEEPS TRYING TO FLUSTER HER AND TEASE HER AND SHE GETS SO ANNOYED THAT SHE JUST FUCKS HIM STUPID 💕💕
— ☆ Wrecking T*rtaglia headcanons
Includes: Childe
[ Top ] Female reader
Contains: Overstimulation, bratty sub, mind break, sub space, aphrodisiacs, anal gaping, dacryphilia, degradation, size kink, slapping, choking, cock-stepping, humiliation, rough sex, stomach bulge, multiple orgasms, masochism + sadism.
— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  
— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe 🐑 [ GN ]
[ masterlist ]
Welcome to the "Bully T*rtaglia" club, we are currently taking applications (u‿ฺu✿ฺ). My original draft was sweet but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. So I'm going to channel all my anger into destroying this man (consensually, I promise the ending is soft.).
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— ☆ Childe
When you bring up the idea of you topping him, he doesn't take you seriously but he's open to it. While he thinks it's cute that you want to try new things, he's so much bigger than you, and being on top is actually a lot of work compared to being a pillow princess. Are you sure you can handle it?
One of the big issues that came up during your first times was Childe's competitive nature and how fast his recovery time was. He could have came three times and then suddenly flip you on your back and fuck your brains out instead.
Even when he had the patience to be the sub, he would constantly taunt you and be an insufferable brat. Constantly disrespecting you and trying to fluster you. Always reaching down to finger fuck you even when he was stuffed full.
So the next time you brought him a drink, you decided to add something extra. Sitting patiently as he thanked you and downed the entire cup. It only took a few minutes before he began to squirm in his seat.
Childe's face was slowly growing redder and redder, soft pants breaking through the quiet office, his eyes darting to you before settling on the ground. It was amusing seeing him be so quiet rather than running his mouth off every minute. It's only when you start to walk over him in feign concern does he break out of his haze.
Stumbling over himself as he makes wild hand gestures to stop you but as soon as you round his desk, you see his cock straining against his pants, and the embarrassment flood Childe's face. Trying to laugh it off, you're just so pretty he can't help himself, but he's quickly cut off when you prop yourself up onto his desk and step on his cock.
"W-Wait-" Childe groans as his hips buck into your shoe as he grinds against it. Clutching the hand rests of his chair as he leans his head against your knee, soft keens slipping out as you run your fingers through his matted hair as he humps against you. He makes a confused noise when you suddenly tip his chin up, smile sweetly at him, before he's sprawled on the ground as you slap him.
"When did I say you could touch me?" you shot him a cruel look that sent shudders up his spine but also made his cock throb. Whatever you fed him was slowly making him lose his senses until there was just you, you, you. He whines, still on his back, when you take a seat in his chair and dig your shoe onto his dick, randomly applying pressure here and there, his pre-cum wetting his pants as he yelps at the pain. His hands flying up to lift your foot away but he catches himself as chooses to claw his fingers into the wooden flooring instead as he reaches his peak. It's so empowering seeing the man who used to fuck you stupid, whimper and cry as he cums in his pants just from you stepping on his dick.
"P-Please...ah! mm...wha?" Childe looks down confused to see that even after just orgasming, his cock is still hard. His body is so hot that if he doesn't cum again, he feels like he's going to die. He's tries to lift himself onto his elbows and unbutton his pants before you kick him in the chest and send him back down. He's disorientated from the fall when he feels you sit on his chest, cupping his face in your hands to lift him, before slamming his head down. You're almost ripping his hair out with every yank and slap you abuse him with as he yelps like a dog.
"You filthy whore. Did I say you could cum? You ungrateful brat," you spit out as Childe wails in pain, almost knocking you off when he seizes up and shakes. You don't even need to check to know he came again, "Maybe I should gag you and throw you onto the streets. Let everyone here know how much of a pig you are. Is that it what you want?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" his voice is choked up from his tears as he cries over himself. You almost feel bad but he's basically useless in this state, sniffling over himself as he apologizes over and over again. You softly coo at him as you lean over and kiss him sweetly, taking his arms and placing them on your waist as he grips onto you like a lifeline.
"There there Childe. It's alright now, we're going to teach you how to be a good boy. That's what you want right?" you whisper to him as he nods. You pull yourself up even as he grips onto your clothing to stay with him as you unclasp the buttons of his pants and free his cock. Still red and hard in your hands as if he hadn't already orgasmed twice in the span of a few minutes. He's already so wet with pre-come that you don't even need to find lube to jack him off. Ignoring his moans and screams to stop, he's still sensitive, you take him to the hilt in your mouth. Quickly pinning his hips from jerking upwards and choking you, you're the image of content as you swallow around his cock as Childe throws his head back and sobs as he cums down your throat.
“Pl-please, please, mmn- put it in me, please…” he manages to pant you, his mind melted as his eyes blink in and out of consciousness. His body is still burning hot and he can't escape the feeling of being empty. He wants to be filled with your cock, stuffed fill until he can't live without being fucked by you. You've completely ruined him.
"It seems we still have a long way to go. You really are a disappointment Childe," you sigh as you wipe away the stray cum dripping from your mouth as you reach over and feed it to him. He whines low in the throat at tasteing himself but feeling you touch him in some way is the only thing grounding him before you pull away and stand up, "Go on. Finger yourself open for me."
"W-Wha?"
"Childe. I said. Finger yourself open. I won't repeat myself again."
He quickly nods, not ready to disobey you again, as he lifts himself up to get his pants fully off. He knows what you want and it makes the fire in him burn hotter. Using his own pre-come with shaky hands, he reaches over to hold his legs up for you, and circles around his rim before dipping inside. The embarrassment of holding himself open like this and your watchful gaze almost has him cumming again but he can't. He wants to be good. He does his best to spread himself open at this awkward angle but he soon loses himself. He should feel ashamed for getting off on someone watching him but it makes him finger himself deeper and harder. He's taken out of his pleasurable moment when he feels your hand join his. Taking one hand as you spread his ass to see his loose hole. The pre-cum from his cock slowly leaking down. You're absentmindedly lacing your fingers inside him, before pulling both your hands out as you line your strap on to his rim. He didn't even notice you put it on.
"Did you know I had to fake every orgasm because you were such a sloppy fuck? Perhaps I should show you how to fuck someone properly," is the only warning he gets before you grip his hips until your fingernails draw blood, before slamming into him. He throws his head back and chokes on his screams as his cock shoots cum all over his chest.
"Who said you could come?" you spit out as you grip his cock and squeeze harshly as he screams. The overstimulation is too much, it hurts. He's desperately trying to push you away but whatever strength he built is lost. Only able to lay there and take it. He looks down to see his stomach bulge with every thrust you make, the image of you rearranging his insides sends him flying as he tries to cum again but the death grip you have on him, he just can't. He's full-on sobbing as you continue to abuse his prostate, he's going to break, you're breaking him.
"nO! P-PLEASE! STO-" he begging as you continue to pound into him. You push even further, until your cock fully inside him now, and stay there rubbing right up against his prostate. Watching amused as Childe tries to shudder to the large intrusion, the never-ending pressure on his sensitive spots makes him almost feral. You swear he has hearts in his eyes right now.
"Pleasepleaseplease-"
You pull out slowly, just until the tip is inside him, before gripping his wrists as leverage and ruthless slamming into him. Childe parts his hips in a voiceless cry as you finally break his mind and fuck him dumb. He scrambles against the floor as he tries to find anything to ground him, trying to fuck himself back on your cock as he drools all over the floor. His vision leaves him as all his senses focused on the harsh drag of your cock in him, the wet slapping noise that fills the room, and the tears that slip from his eyes down to the floor. His cock throbs with each thrust you force into his body, thighs jerking, as his tongue lolls out.
"Oh!--mh, m-more!" Childe babbles deliriously, he's being reduced to nothing but a warm hole for you to fill whenever you feel like it. Reduced from a harbinger to a whore for you to use. He feels the breath get punched out of his lungs as his abdomen stretches and burns. His hole clenching around your dick that you have to forcefully yank him down to stuff him, "Hahh, you're tearing me o-open."
"You disgusting whore. Can you feel it?" you mock as you take one hand to spread his ass apart, you see his hole is red and puffy, pre-cum from his semi-hard cock leaking down where you're both connected. He shudders that you've fucked him so bad that his hole is gaping. It's when you reach over and clasp both of your hands around his neck and squeeze that he comes crashing down. Wheezing at the lack of oxygen that makes him see white, he feels so warm and content, mind filled with bliss, as he cums. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into him as his cock finally softens as he relaxes and drifts off into space before slowly losing consciousness.
--- You slowly blink awake to soft kisses being placed on your neck, Childe's lazy form cuddled up to you as you stroke his hair. He's always so clingy the morning after. "Are you feeling alright? I was a bit mean wasn't I?" you ask a bit embarrassed as memories of last night flood your mind. You know you both agreed on what your limits were but you couldn't help but feel a bit worried you may have pushed him too far. Childe props himself on his elbow to smile dumbly at you, you were perfect.
"It was alright I suppose," he chuckles when you lightly punch him in the chest, "I didn't think you would try and drug me like that. You know I could get you arrested for that. " "Ha! Good luck finding someone that will fulfill your perverted fantasies. Besides you're the one that wanted to experiment with them and don't phrase it like that either," you shake your head at him before leaning up to kiss him. When you pull away you take notice of all the bruises and marks you left on him. There's a small part of you that purrs at the claim you made but you quickly shoo it away. It's too early for that. If your back is hurting you have no idea how Childe is faring. "Here, let me get you some water and let me see your head," you offer, pulling yourself up before Childe's arm wraps around you and pulls you down to lay beside him. Placing his weight on top of you so you can't squirm away, even as you swat at his back he smothers you until you give up.
"Stay with me."
"Hah...alright. Just for a bit."
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emile-hides · 3 years
Text
Crybaby imagines
I can’t find any BNHA X Reader blogs with their requests open, so heck it. Make the content you want to see in the world.
MHA Blonde boys react to reader crying (for various reasons)
Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio
All Might
1-A is an amazing bunch
It sort of just all hit you like a truck, really
How much 1-A had grown, how much they’d overcame
You’re not even entirely sure what sparked the thought process
But once it stared, you couldn’t stop
You were just so?? Proud??? Amazed???
Suddenly you were crying at your desk in the teacher’s lounge
Quiet, heavy tears
Your co-workers took notice, but it was Toshinori who approched your first asking what was wrong
You hadn’t even noticed you were crying
When you get into the why he’s all ears
He sits next to you and is soon joining in on the kid’s progress
He talks mostly about Bakugo and Midoriya, you go on about Asui and Koda
It turns to laughing and quietly bullying the kids for a moment as you two enjoy some of the sillier memories
Soon Toshinori, too, has tears in his eyes
He sobs more than you did
He’s just so proud of these kids!!
You feel like an old married couple talking about their 30-something kids living far from home
Kind of silly considering they’re all 15 and currently in class right down the hall
You two have to go see them during lunch break
Present Mic
Crying in Solidarity
You stood with Hizashi in front of a grave of a kid you never knew on an overcast day
He’d normally make a comment about the weather matching the mood but...
Not now
His fists were clenched, and though his smile stood strong and his glasses hid his eyes
They couldn’t catch his tears
You held his hand in silence and pretended not to notice the falling of his facade 
It happens very seldom
He was shaking, you could hear his breath hitch hard despite his attempts to remain calm
You didn’t know this Shirokumo kid, you’d never met him, you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if you had to
You didn’t even know who he was to Hizashi
But you knew it tore him up inside that he was buried here
You knew he kept his emotions well contained for everything else but him
You pulled Hizashi a bit closer, letting him lean onto you as tears began to run down your cheeks
The two of you stood in silence and cried on this, an overcast day
The weather really did match your mood.
Fatgum
Crying in relief
The hospital door opened with a loud slam
You didn’t really mean to slam it so hard but now wasn’t the time to go apologizing to inanimate objects for being a little rough
Your voice shrilled even louder than the door the name of the patient laying on the bed in the center of the room
Taishiro looked up with a face of ‘Oh shit’ which was the correct face to have
You were mad for all of the time it took to yell about how worried you were
FIRST OF ALL he didn’t even call to tell you he was in the hospital, you got that information from Tamaki
Second, you barely even know what HAPPENED to land him here
And THIRD,
Nope. Anger’s gone. Evaporated like a puddle in mid July.
Taishiro had sat up in his bed with a nervous smile, peppering in the nicknames and speaking in the gentle voice as he reached out to console you
Just seeing him sit up, his arms bandaged lightly around the wrist
It all just came crashing in
He was fine. 
Tears over flowed as you cried a bit louder than you had yelled previously
Hiccuping and gasping out how worried you were and how mad you still wanted to be
Taishiro just laughed an apology as he hugged you, thankful for your concern
He promised to call next time
You found yourself yelling at him to never do this again
Aoyama
Crying on command
Acting was something you had mastered
More or less anyway
You dove head first into a role and you were damn good at it
But everyone has weaknesses
You’d locked yourself in Aoyama’s room, going over lines and choreography for some little play in the park you two had signed up for
Now you sat on his floor as he painted your nails, glaring daggers into the script
You had to cry. 
It seemed so easy. Think of something sad and cry over it on stage. Simply.
and yet your eyes remained dry, your stage make-up perfect
Aoyama had been couching you, weeping all sorts of tears for your amusment
It wasn’t helping
You turned your glare to Aoyama, who was completely enthralled in drawing tiny art pieces into your nails
God he was bright
....bright.....
You looked directly up at the light on the ceiling and stared
Your eyes wide you forced yourself not to blink
It hurts
And it worked
You looked back to Aoyama with tears streaming down your face and searing pain in your retina
He applauded your dedication
Ojiro
It’s all just a lot
You weren’t really sure when it all became so much
But everything you’d been working at and training for suddenly weighed more than you could bare
You found yourself in the middle of the UA empty halls, flat on the ground on your stomach
Tripping was the breaking point
The straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say
You just started sobbing
When you heard footsteps coming you just kind of... wiggled out of the way
Pressing yourself to the wall you just continued to cry to yourself, curled in a ball, expecting the other person to just pass you by
Instead a soft white handkerchief gently pressed to your cheek, followed by a quiet “Are you okay?”
You were not okay.
Ojiro sat himself beside you as you wiped your face, continuing to sob
You didn’t offer an explanation, he didn’t ask for one
He sat in the hall quietly with you, his tail giving the occasional swish to brush your cheek of tears
The silence gave to time to catch your breath, and realize class probably started a long time ago
When you got up to be on your way, he joined you
He didn’t offer to walk you where you needed to go, he simply did
His quiet wave, his silent smile, his patient glances at you
It all made everything feel just a bit lighter
The next time you’d see Ojiro in the halls, he’d smile at you
And he’d be delighted if you could smile back
Kaminari
Crying from shock
It was just a little zap to the hip, a little bee sting
He’d been doing it to everyone in class, learned it from some stupid tiktok
When it was your turn to get stung, you let out the loudest yelp in the class
He laughed at first, proudly proclaiming how he’d gotten you
Until you whipped to him with fury in your eyes, along with tears
His panicked “Shit, wait, I’m sorry” fell on deaf ears as you quickly gave him a return jab in the hip
Without the actual shock part it probably wasn’t as painful
So you did it a few more times for good measure
Then he jabbed you again
And it was on
Jabs to the hip turned to jabs to the gut, armpit, neck, even right dead center in his chest
You were both in pain and sure to be covered in bruises when Iida finally separated you two
It was hard to see with the tears swelling in both your eyes
But when Denki made direct eye contact with you before giving a glance to Iida, you knew
You nodded, an evil smirk crossing your face
The two of you took your index and middle fingers, driving them quickly and roughly into the class rep’s hips simultaneously
His yelp had the entire class laughing
It then also had the entire class in study hall for the rest of break
Bakugo
He’s just kind of a dick
Standing outside of class 1-A you felt as though your heart was beating in your throat
When the door opened you jumped out of your skin as a green haired boy came out at full speed
He managed to stop on a dime before slamming into you though
You choked out the courage to ask him if Katsuki Bakugo was in class
The kid before you stared in shock before turning around and calling for a “Kacchan”, telling him someone was here to see him
You glanced in the door and watched as several people pried the man you wanted to see from his seat, shoving him forcefully to the door
They all then slammed the door behind him, keeping the green haired kid who seemed in a rush to leave trapped inside
He barked a what at you that made you reconsider all your choices
Still. You swallowed all your courage, and said what you came here to say.
You confessed your feelings to Bakugo, bravely. 
He stared at you with a face of utter confusion, and it managed to catch you a bit off guard
He looked like he didn’t know how to respond
Which he, of course, didn’t.
So he responded the only way he really knows how
Anger.
“WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU?!”
He called you some background extra. What gave you even the slightest though he’d want to be with some nobody he didn’t even know the name of
Within seconds of his screaming the 1-A doors slammed open yet again
The group who’d peeled Bakugo from his seat before jumped from the room and began wrestling him into submission, berating him for his treatment of you
But you were inclined to agree with him
You told them it was fine. He was right, you were just some nobody
You couldn’t stop your voice from shaking, tears streaming from your eyes as you gripped tightly at your shirt
Not knowing really what else to do, you turned and ran away
It was well over a few hours later, and you were still crying alone in the court yard
You flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching you. You closed your eyes and planned to make a run for it somewhere else to avoid bothering anyone
“Hey, dumbass,” a hand placed on your forehead, pulling you back to lean on the person behind you, “You could do a lot better than an ass like me.”
You glanced at Bakugo, who was looking far into the distance, his ears red
You cried and apologized. He didn’t say much else, but his hand remained on you, keeping you in place
You found yourself invited out more, running around with Bakugo and his friends, being rowdy and dumb as teens should be
Your crush on Katsuki Bakugo soon became a distant memory as he grew to be one of your closest friends
Honenuki
Yawning
You flopped dramatically onto the common room couch and let out the loudest, most drawn out sigh you could muster
This act of pure drama drew the attention of Juzo Honenuki, who simply chuckled at your antics
You stretched like a cat across the couch, reaching for him lazily with one hand, you swatted at the book he’d been comfortably reading
He gave another chuckle and inquired what you were after
You answered with an equally dramatic and drawn out yawn, bringing tears to your eyes as you again stretched to him
You then closed your eyes and snuggled into a couch pillow
Honenuki’s hand stretched across the couches and found itself on your head, giving gentle pets back and forth
Once he found himself a good stopping point, Honenuki put his bookmark in place and snapped the book closed
He gave a stretch and a yawn before encouraging you to your feet
You lazily tangled your arms around one of his and draped yourself over him
The two of you walked to your separate dorm rooms arm in arm, occasionally letting out more and more exasperated yawns and sleepy giggles
Monoma
Crying from pain
This was... probably your fault?
You remembered running into Awase from class 1-B while going a bit too fast though the halls
Next thing you knew you were in front of him, on your ass, staring up at him upside down
It took a minute for the pain to register, but as soon as it did tears stung your eyes
You couldn’t even really say anything as Awase’s eyes filled with panic when he’d realized what he’d done, quickly dropping your arm and stepping back, probably planning to make a run for it
The is until his blond classmate came up behind him, pressuring him to apologize in a loud, negging tone
When Awase again avoided your eyes, opting to shove his hands in his pockets as he glared at the wall, Monoma dropped to his knees and offered you assistance
The question of “Do you need to go to the nurse?” was accompanied with a handkerchief dabbed at your eyes
Monoma helped you to your feet, apologizing for his classmate, assuring you you were fine and didn’t need to report this to a teacher because you were clearly fine look at you you’re fine
I mean you weren’t bleeding so... Yeah? You were fine.
He sounded like he’d be the one in trouble if you told someone about Awase self defense flipping you over his shoulder
When he offered again to walk you to the nurse, you declined
He was right, you were fine, just a bit sore
You wiped the tears from your eyes and thanked him for his concern as you walked passed him
You also apologized to Awase for bumping into him, though he just huffed a response
You didn’t get very far when you heard quick steps following close behind
Monoma was just checking in to make sure you for sure weren’t going to tell anyone class 1-B’s Awase threw you like a rag doll
He also just figured while he was here he’d ask if there was anything he could do to make up for this incident
Like... buy you lunch sometime.... Or take you out to a nice cafe he knows after school... maybe...?
He just. Didn’t want you to think class B does hit and runs like this on all the pretty students
Mirio
Crying from laughing
Your sides hurt
You gripped onto yourself as you leaned onto Mirio, cackling harder than you had in a while
He was retelling some jokes he’d gone over with Sir Nighteye at his internship today, regaling you, Tamaki, and Nejire with perfect one-liners and horrid puns
You all were laughing far too hard for this late at night
Tears pricked your eyes as you slapped at Mirio’s leg, gasping for breath you begged for a time out
You have the most contagious laugh, Mirio was positive his jokes only ever landed because you laughed at them so easily
When you finally caught your breath you sat up, rubbing giggly tears from your eyes
You gave a glance around the room and found Tamaki doing the same, though his tears were from the yawn he’d just given
All three of you watched Tamaki adorably shifts as he rubbed the tired from his eyes, something he flushed over when he’d finally noticed the attention
Nejire declared that meant bedtime and hopped from her seated position, pulling Tamaki along with her
In a matter of moments she was dragging the tired boy out of the room to their own dorms
You and Mirio chuckled at her antics before you too got up to get going
Mirio offered to walk you to your dorm, which wasn’t far down the hall, but he made such a show of it how could you say no?
Of course he spent the whole walk telling even more terrible jokes that continued to crack you up
By the time you’d gotten to your dorm you were so giggly you couldn’t see straight
Mirio waved as he turned and walked the 5 feet back to his own room
He then turned around and waved again, claiming he already misses you
You giggled at him and returned to your own room
He loved your laugh.
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let-them-read-fics · 3 years
Text
Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)
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Requested: Yes
Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff
A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!
Click for Jisoo and Jennie
♡ Happy Reading ♡
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Rosé
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Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.
Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.
She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.
But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.
She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions
You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.
You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.
You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.
Turning Point
"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.
After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.
You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.
"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.
"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.
"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.
You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.
----
The Next Day
"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.
"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.
"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.
"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.
You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.
"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.
"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.
You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.
You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.
That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.
"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"
She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.
"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.
You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"
Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.
"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."
You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.
--
"Milk?"
"Check."
"Ramen?"
"Check."
"Cereal?"
"Nope."
You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.
You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.
You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.
"Thank you, Y/N."
"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."
She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.
"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.
Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.
"Sorry ma'am!"
A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.
"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.
"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"
She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.
-----
The Last Day Of Detention
Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.
So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.
She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.
The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.
"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.
"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.
"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.
"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.
"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.
The Fallout
After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand
"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.
"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.
You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd
You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way
"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."
Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know
"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."
At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.
She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous
She lit up when she saw your reaction
"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.
You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.
The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Lisa
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I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^
Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.
You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.
Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.
She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks
The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things
You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.
You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.
She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.
"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.
"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.
"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.
"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.
You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.
Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess
*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.
"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.
Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually
You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.
"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.
"But Mrs. Ta--"
"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.
The Turning Point
"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.
"Knock it off, Manoban."
"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.
She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.
Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.
"Do you want a snack?"
"Sure, do you have any ramen?"
She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.
Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.
"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.
"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.
You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.
"Your wish is my command, princess."
Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.
---
"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.
"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.
A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.
Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.
"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.
"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.
She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.
"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.
"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.
"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.
"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.
"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.
"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."
You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.
"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.
"Fair enough."
-----
Later, On The Rooftop
"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.
"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.
"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.
"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.
"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.
"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.
After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.
She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.
"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.
"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.
"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.
-----
Later, In Her Bedroom
"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.
"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."
Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.
The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.
---
Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.
Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"
You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.
Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.
"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.
"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.
"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.
Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.
"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.
"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."
"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.
"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."
"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."
"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.
You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.
"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.
The Fallout
From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid
She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself
You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little
She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch
"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.
"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.
She invites you to her dance perfomances
When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites
"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.
"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school
You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.
"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"
She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.
"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.
"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.
You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."
Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.
297 notes · View notes
youbloodymadgenius · 3 years
Text
Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1
Tumblr media
Moodboard by @quantumlocked310
Ivarello’s masterpost here
A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖
A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂
A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩
In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.
Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.
Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.
Words: 1806
Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.
Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂
🛡⚔️🛡
June 2021
Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"
Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"
Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.
"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.
When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"
He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.
"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."
His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"
The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.
Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.
He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.
"What are you going to wear?"
"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"
"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."
"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"
For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.
Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.
First, his stepmom is not–
Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.
Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.
So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.
Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.
The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.
Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.
Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.
Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.
Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.
Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.
Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.
And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.
Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.
So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.
Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.
So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.
But... Yes, there's a but...
Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.
Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.
Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.
Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.
Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.
And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.
That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.
But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.
And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.
"I can't wait."
"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."
"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"
"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."
"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"
Wait. His mind goes blank.
Fuck.
What? Did he hear right?
As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.
Fuck.
He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.
Fuck.
When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"
Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"
"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"
Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"
But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.
I'll go! I'll fucking go!
He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.
With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."
He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"
Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"
Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?
Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."
With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.
Y/N. Fuck.
🛡⚔️🛡
Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom
Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings
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blue-pastel-cat · 3 years
Text
Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation
Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).
I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”
1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)
In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.
If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.
Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″
Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.
2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)
For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.
So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?
---
Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.
Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.
Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.
3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 
A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?
Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”
trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO
4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 
Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...
Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.
“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”
Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.
5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  
When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.
Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD
6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)
At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.
Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.
7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           
“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.
“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”
“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”
Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”
(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)
Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;
8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  
One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.
Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.
9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               
“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”
“I—”
“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”
“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”
Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”
Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.
10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        
“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.
Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”
He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.
“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”
When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..
Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA
11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth
Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.
But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.
There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.
Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.
That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3
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soulmate-game · 4 years
Text
Finally another oneshot, after forever and a day. I’m weak for soulmate AUs. I think most of you know that already.
SO WHY NOT ANOTHER?! WOO!
This one is based on a prompt given to me a hella long time ago, idk who sent it to me. Tell me who you are so I can credit you! I wrote down the prompt for me to remember, it’s something like; “You can write letters to your soulmate, and they travel through time either to a moment your soulmate needs the letter most or to a random point in time to them.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Dear Myself.
I’m doing this for school. We have to write letters to our future self. I am nine years old right now, the year is 2009. I hope you found a cool job! I don’t know what to do yet. I like drawing though! Science is icky, so I hope you’re not a scientist. But if you are, and if it makes us happy, then I guess it’s okay. Be the best scientist you can! If you are all moved out, did you ever get a pet hamster? Hamsters are so cute!
Oh, but most important. Yesterday, I was bullied by my Arch Enemy. You know who. Yeah. Anyway, she said some mean things and it just reminded me that sometimes life hurts, and people can hurt you real bad. But life is still pretty. A family of robins made a nest on my terrace outside my room, and I saw them after I was done crying. They are so cute, and made me happy again. So, always look for your family of robins to keep you happy, I guess. Life isn’t bad, even if some things and people are. I hope you remember that. Keep believing in yourself, and in others!
Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past).
Do not open this letter before 2020! Pretty please!
Shaking hands held the letter. It was written two years ago, but he only could have gotten it now. It just appeared on his desk out of nowhere. At first, he thought it was some sick joke. He had just moved to Gotham again, and none of his—
None of them knew he was back. But he recognized this handwriting. He had gotten exactly one letter from them before, written by an older version of this woman and received by him when he was ten. Not long after being taken in by Bruce Wayne. The letter back then had been short, precise. Comforting.
Hello there.
I am writing this in the year 2018. You see, I found out quite a while ago that my soulmate bond is unique. It sends letters to you that I write, from all across time. I can get your letters, too, so don’t hesitate to write to me if you need to vent. My letters might not always reach you in time to feel like a normal response, but I’ll keep writing if you do. I know your life isn’t easy, if the letters I’ve already gotten mean anything. But keep fighting. I know what it’s like to be the underdog. But I’m rooting for you.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, New Adult.
Jason’s hands crumpled the two pieces of paper in them, the older of the two already close to crumbling away. They had buried him with it, resurrected him with it. It had seen hell and back just like him, but he still kept it. Even with blurring ink and ripped edges and blood stains. The writing and names matched, even if his newer letter was written in the clumsy scrawl of a child. The nuances in the handwriting were still the same.
She would still be writing to him. This new letter he got was clearly the first, before she knew about her soulmate or how her letters would disappear after she wrote them just like his did. But 2009? It just sank into him, that she was younger than he was. By seven years.
But her words still kept him afloat better than any lecture from that asshole Bruce.
He couldn’t see her yet. Not any time soon, really. He was already eighteen, dead and resurrected, and she was barely eleven. He could wait.
She didn’t need somebody as screwed and dark as him right now, anyway. A murderer, a budding crime boss. If she needed someone killed for her, or someone to save her, he’d be there. Otherwise?
Jason took out the receipt from his last visit to a gas station for cigarettes, grabbed a sharpie from his desk, and began to write.
Yo, Mari.
I’m writing this in 2011. I got your first letter. Thanks. It reminded me of some good times. I’m sorry I didn’t write anything for five years. Stuff happened. I won’t write often. Not until I’m in a better place. But if you need it, you can vent to me too. Also, don’t look at the back of this receipt. This was the only paper I could find.
Jason T., Your Soulmate.
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette, nine years old, stared down at the receipt that had taken the place of her letter to herself. She recognized that it was written in English, but she couldn’t read it yet. But that was okay, her Papan and Maman could read English!
She ran down, holding it in her hands tightly. She didn’t want the mystery letter to disappear! She handed it to her parents, who were in the middle of making croissants and stared at her for a moment. And then they broke into a flurry of movement.
“Why do you have a receipt for cigarettes, Marinette?!” Sabine yelled, confused more than angry. How would her daughter get a receipt written in English? And after giving her parents a confused head tilt, Marinette explained.
“It just appeared, like, poof!” She moved her hands to illustrate her point. “I was writing my letter to my future self for school, which is gone now oh no! Mlle. is going to be so mad!”
“Mari, focus,” Tom prodded gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. “You were writing your letter, and then what?”
Marinette took a deep breath. “Well, I finished it and put it in a little envelope. But as soon as I put it down and was all done, it shimmered red and faded away! This showed up in the same place my letter had been, like they were traded!”
Tom and Sabine shared a glance, and her mom held out her hand. “Can I read it, Marinette? I promise I won’t take it away. Your father and I just want to see what it says. We’ll read it to you.”
Marinette nodded eagerly, and after making sure their dough was put away the family of bakers moved to their living room and the little girl sat on her father’s lap as her mother held the note for them to see and read it aloud.
The parents shared another glance.
“Wow!” Marinette exclaimed happily, bouncing in place. “He sounds so cool! He is my soulmate? Really? I wonder what he looks like!” Her eyes took on a dreamy quality as she began to daydream. “I bet he’s super handsome! And nice and strong and—“
“Mari,” Tom said gently, tugging one pigtail playfully to get his daughter’s attention. She turned her large blue eyes to him, rapt with attentiveness. “I know this is exciting, but you know that not all soulmates are romantic, right?”
Marinette instantly calmed down, eyebrows pinching together. “But— but Nino said that soulmates are people you will marry in the future. Your perfect person. Like you and Maman,” she argued, incredibly confused. Her Maman chuckled, handing Marinette her receipt-letter back.
“Yes, but sometimes a person doesn’t need romance the most. Sometimes, what a person needs most is a friend or another family member. So sometimes, a soulmate is a big sister or brother instead, or another Maman or Papan. And we think that your soulmate might be the big brother kind,” she explained patiently. Marinette’s confusion instantly changed to excitement again, eyes sparkling with starry amazement.
“Really? How can you tell?”
“Well,” Tom took over, tapping the receipt with one finger. This receipt is from America. Over there, you have to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. Which means that, two years from now, your soulmate is already eighteen.”
“Or he better be, anyway,” Sabine growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.
“But even if he isn’t,” Tom nervously glanced over at his wife and back to his daughter. “The way he writes is too grown up for someone close to your age. He is probably several years older than you—“
“At least seven, if he knows what’s good for him,” Sabine interrupted again. Tom just chuckled and shook his head.
“But still. Are you okay with him not being a romantic soulmate, Nettie?”
Marinette jumped off of her dad’s lap, hugging her note to her chest with one of the biggest smiles either of her parents had ever seen on her face.
“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted a big brother! I bet he’s so cool, and rides a motorcycle and beats up bad guys! And when we meet, we’ll go out for ice cream and he’ll ruffle my hair, and let me ride on his shoulders, and it’ll be so awesome!”
Sabine finally lost her threatening aura, laughing along with her daughter. “Well, I don’t know about the whole beating up bad guys thing. But it sounds like he might need some cheering up, so you should write him letters pretty often. You never know when he might need one the most.”
Marinette nodded seriously, eyes shining with determination now. “That’s right! I have to be the best soulmate-sister ever! I’ll start writing him another letter right now!” She instantly turned to run back up to her room, but her dad’s voice followed her:
“Marinette! You haven’t eaten dinner yet!”
—*—*—*—*—*
The next day, Jason came back to his base to see another letter. It was on special scrapbook paper, a pretty white with a heart-and-stars border. He found himself snorting despite himself, shaking his head and picking up the girly letter.
Hello, Jason!
I just got your letter! It’s still 2009, and my parents were worried about the cigarats. I wanted to learn English first, but Maman and Papan reminded me that you have to be able to read French if you were able to read my past letters (I wonder what I wrote you! My future self must be real smart). Maman says you better be 18, or else she’ll kick your butt. She didn’t say that exactly, but I could tell.
Jason snickered at that. She must have a pretty fun family.
Maman and Papan also said that you’re probably a Big Brother soulmate. That’s super cool! I’ve always wanted an older brother, but it’s just me. I get lonely sometimes. And Maman thinks I have a big imagination, so help me prove her wrong! I bet her that you’re suuuuuuper cool, and have a motorcycle and beat up criminals! She doesn’t think my soulmate would be a hero, but I think you are. I don’t even know you yet, but I just feel it. And even if you don’t beat up bad guys, that’s fine. You’ll still protect me like a big brother should, right? And we’ll go and eat ice cream and talk about the stuff we like when we finally meet. And I’ll protect you too. I know little sisters aren’t supposed to, but I will totally protect you anyway. If you’re sad, I’ll make you macaroons and read you a bedtime story. That always makes me happy.
Please write back soon!
Marinette Dupain-Cheng (from the past still!)
Jason couldn’t help it, and maybe the Lazarus magic had a bit of sway on him still, but he laughed raucously. A deep, belly-shaking bellow. His soulmate sure was a character! And scarily intuitive. How did she guess such accurate things about him? It was hilarious.
But he wouldn’t write back today. Not yet. He held no illusions; he wasn’t brother material. Not now, and probably not for a while if ever. Which reminded him, he had a replacement to kill.
—*—*—*—*—*
The Replacement lived, but at least Batman had gotten the message. Meanwhile, letters from Little Mari, as he had started calling her in his head, had started piling up. He read every single one, but didn’t respond to any. It was all the usual stuff. Talking about her day, asking stuff about him, spouting advice that seemed way too insightful for a nine-year-old.
He kept every single one. Soon, 2009 letters turned into 2010 letters. She switched from writing almost every day to once a week.
By then, Jason had reconciled with Bruce for the most part. After a few attempts on his life, but that wasn’t important. It was then, as he sat down in the living room watching Tim, Dick, Bruce, and the newest hellion Damian, all talking with and teasing one another that he finally got the urge to write again. So he asked for paper, and Alfred brought him a notepad and a plain ballpoint pen. And, for the first time in over a year, he started writing.
Dick and Bruce noticed first, stopping their banter to stare. Dick smiled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he let himself slump over the sofa’s arm a bit. Tim furrowed his eyebrows, and Damian frowned.
“What are you doing, Todd?” The young hellion asked, but Jason barely heard him.
“Nonya business, squirt,” he replied absently. Bruce chuckled fondly, beckoning to his two youngest sons. They both came a bit closer, and Bruce smiled at them conspiratorially. He leaned forward and whispered:
“Jason’s soulbond allows any letters that he writes to travel through time to his Bonded, and vice versa. Back before… everything, he used to write a letter to her almost every day.”
“It’s really sweet. We lined up the dates, and we think that she’s around your age Damian,” Dick added in equally softly. “Probably a familial bond. It’s good that he’s writing to her again.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette was twelve the next time she got a letter from Jason. But, unlike the last one, this one came from the past. And it was written in French.
Hi, Marinette!
I guess I’m your soulmate. I got your letter from 2018. It’s 2005 when I’m writing this. I’m twelve years old right now, but that shouldn’t matter. It was a little surprising when I got a letter written in French out of nowhere! Luckily, I speak a lot of languages. I love learning languages, and reading is probably my favorite thing to do. Don’t tell anyone though! I have my bad-boy image to keep up. I think our soulbond is really cool actually, and maybe we can teach each other stuff if we do this right. I know the whole time-traveling-letters thing makes it hard to reply to each other like normal. From now on, I’ll write you these letters in English and translate them in French on the back. That way, you can read it whenever you want and also learn English if you don’t already know it when you get this letter.
Oh, and I think I’m older than you? In real time, I mean. If you’re a “new adult” in 2018, then you’re probably a few years younger than me. I was born in 1993. You can do the math, since I don’t know when you were born. Anyway! I’ll keep writing you as often as I can and hope that you get these letters when you need them most.
Jason T., Excited Tween.
Marinette laughed, running down to show her mom. She was only writing Jason once a month now, but in the midst of this first letter she had received in three years, her determination was relit. It was just the letters being dumb when they flew through time! No way he was done writing to her. Right?
“Maman! Maman, he really was eighteen when he wrote that first letter! You don’t have to kill him!”
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette stared at the pile of letters on her desk, sighing. She ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to read them yet, but she knew they were each dated from 2005. Apparently they had both decided to write daily when they had first discovered their Bond.
“Marinette,” the familiar voice of Tikki spoke you, the little Kwami floating over to land on her holder’s shoulder. “You should read them. Your bond wouldn’t give you letters you don’t need.”
Marinette took a deep breath, rubbing her already sore and red eyes. “I know. But what if—“
Tikki grabbed the letter at the bottom of the pile, flying over and handing it to the pigtailed girl. She smiled gently. “Read it. No what-ifs. Just read for now, Marinette.”
The newest Ladybug sighed, but acquiesced. She sat down at her desk, and began to read. Only two months as Ladybug, and already the pressure was becoming too much.
Two hours later, she had caught up and her mood was considerably better. Jason’s life was definitely no cake walk, but his humor bled through the more concerning details and helped bring light to Marinette’s day. Slowly, one by one, she folded the letters and put them in her special locked box inside her “diary”. She tried to keep a real diary once, but quickly stopped when she realized that even “dear diary” counted as a letter and sent itself to Jason.
She pulled out one of her special pieces of stationary paper and her favorite pink gel pen. For a while she stared at the paper, out of practice after a few months of not writing to him, but eventually she was able to begin again.
Hey Jason.
It’s 2013. I’m 13. I’m pretty sure you got the point by now, it’s not hard to figure out what year I was born. I haven’t responded to any of your letters in a while, but I guess that doesn’t matter. It’s not like I know if you’re gonna get this right away anyway.
So. Uh. Things have changed. I’m only thirteen, but I feel so old you know? On the bright side, your letters really did help me learn English. I mean, you probably guessed that since I’m writing this whole thing in English.
I guess I should explain. A little. A lot has happened. I suddenly have so many responsibilities, and it’s really hard to keep up with it all. So much has changed in just a few months, I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m keeping secrets from Maman and Papan now, which hurts the most. I can’t tell them, I can’t even tell you, but I’m not used to this. I don’t like lying. I don’t even know why any of this happened in the first place, I want answers and I’m getting radio silence. It sucks. But your letters from 2005 really helped, so thanks. I just got them this past year, which is really weird because I remember that our letters time travel and I feel crazy again. But this is real. Our Bond is real, and maybe writing you will help me remember that. Help me focus a bit.
Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now. I’ll try to write you again sometime this week if I have time. We’ll see.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Unsure Teenager.
—*—*—*—*—*
As soon as Jason finished his letter, pretending he couldn’t feel Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all spying on him from their own spots around the living room, the papers he wrote on shimmered red and vanished. In their place, a piece of tea-colored scrapbook paper with a decorative robin-and-egg border (he would never know how she could be so obliviously on point with the designs she chose), popped into existence. He blinked, snatching it up and looking it over. His eyes widened.
“It’s only from next year,” he said aloud, for the benefit of the nosy assholes sharing the room with him. “That’s the closest any of our letters have been to one another,” and then Jason’s eyes promptly went serious as she actually read what the paper said.
“Jay?” Dick asked after the man had been silent too long. Jason grunted, his eyes briefly shimmering green before he shook it away. He took a few deep breaths, and finally responded by standing up and handing the paper over to them.
“Something happens next year that fucks with her. All of the letters I’ve gotten from her, besides that first one back when I was still Robin, were from before this. 2009 to 2010. I even got a few from last year, not that long ago. She’s always upbeat and happy and never said anything about any concerning things besides some schoolyard bullying. This isn’t at all like her. The tone is off.”
“Well, it’s not like you’ve actually met her yet Jason,” Tim tried to console him, rereading the paper to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “This could be something mundane. A new school, or an issue with friends or something.”
Jason grit his teeth. “It isn’t. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is telling me it’s more than that. B, I want us to keep an eye on Paris. Something big happens next year, I know it.”
Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Funnily enough, I agree with you. Alfred, can you get up a monitoring system? we’ll keep it automatic until next year actually hits, and then I want someone personally checking up on Paris news at least once a month. Just in case.”
—*—*—*—*—*
It was a year into HawkMoth. Marinette hadn’t written a single letter to Jason, but she kept getting the ones he wrote in 2005. When those ran out, she only had two from 2006 before they suddenly leapt to 2012. She guessed that that was because of the five year gap he had mentioned in his first letter, the infamous cigarette receipt.
She sat in her chair, reading the only two 2012 letters so far, the second of which had conveniently landed on her desk that morning. The first had arrived months ago, but she gave it a reread anyway.
yo, Mari.
I’m sorry I haven't written anything else after that horrible receipt, I was getting my life sorted out. things are better now. I have three annoying brothers, by the way. I told you about Dick, I think, in my early letters. Now I have two younger brothers too, Tim and Damian. Damian is a little shit, but oddly enough I think you’d like him. Oh yeah, I’m writing this in 2012 by the way. And yes, this small notepad paper was all I had. Don’t judge me. I guess I’ll answer some questions, to make up for my lack of letters lately. More up to date than what I told you back when I was a naive little kid anyway.
Yes, I have a motorcycle. It is my baby, and I have no idea how nine-year-old you was able to guess stuff about me so accurately. I am most definitely a bad boy, and I have five different leather jackets that I love to death. I’m trying to quit smoking. It’s bad for your lungs kid, don’t follow my example there. Also, I am so fucking proud of your taste in music. I know I had no sway in it, but the fact that Jagged Stone is your favorite musician instills so much older brother pride in me you don’t even know. My dad (You remember how I said I’m adopted, right? yeah that asshole. Don’t tell him I actually love him, but he’s still an asshole), he grew up with Jagged actually. He still refers to him as Jared, it’s surreal. I will definitely let you ride on my shoulders, even if you’re an adult when we meet. I give no shits. And ice cream is mandatory. Officially. I’m making it mandatory right now.
I hope you’re doing okay when this gets to you, Mari. And keep designing, the sketches you sent me were awesome! That’s some real talent. Don’t let it go to waste if it’s something you love.
Alright, the Doofuses are still staring at me so I better go before one of them snoops and sees the sappy stuff I wrote about them. You are sworn to secrecy about it too, Cupcake. No blabbing.
Jason Todd, Finally Kinda Okay.
Marinette chuckled at that, then put it aside to read the new one from that morning. It was shorter.
Marinette!
I just read your letter from 2013, holy shit let this reach you not long after that. You remember that 2012 letter where I was sappy about my family and shit? I hope you got that one first or else this is gonna be confusing. Anyway, this was written that same day. Are You Okay? If shit gets too bad, for whatever reason, you can always contact me. I know this damn letter thing won’t let me give you a specific way to contact me, not for lack of trying damn it, but I’ll say this: Bruce Wayne isn’t hard to get a hold of. Find a way to contact him if you need my help, and I will be close behind. He knows how to contact me. No matter what, Cupcake. I don’t care if you think you’re being stupid or dramatic or whatever lies run through your head. Contact him if you need it, and I will come to help you. I promise. Being thirteen sucks, trust me I know, so let me help you.
Jason Todd, Worried As Hell.
Marinette huffed, shaking her head. She wanted to take him up on that offer, but she couldn’t. She had just met the Guardian not too long ago, and he had made it clear that she couldn’t tell anybody about being Ladybug. Not even Jason. She needed to deal with this alone.
Scenes of bloated bodies filled her mind, all the people who had died just the previous day because of Siren. She had had to swim through so many corpses. So many dead, of all ages.
She rushed out onto her balcony, taking in deep breaths of fresh air and letting the sun’s rays warm her up and slowly bring her out of the haze of burning memory. She was fourteen already. She could handle this. Her childhood had died the moment she had been given the Earrings, ripped away from her too early. Her old self had died. Now she was Ladybug, she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and she was responsible for the fate of even more than just Paris. She couldn’t let herself fall. Not now, not ever.
The loud roaring of a motorcycle made her jump, and she ran to her railing just in time to see a gorgeous black and red bike come to a tire-screeching halt on the street right under her. The biker, she could tell he was large and covered head to toe in corded muscle even from her spot high above his head, slowly took off his helmet. Black hair with stark white bangs came into view, and startlingly deep blue eyes met hers. Marinette’s breath hitched; it was him. She could tell, his mere eye contact made her feel safe and warm and like… like home had found her. He gave her a roguish grin.
“Come on, Cupcake! I believe I promised you a shoulder ride and ice cream. And you gotta keep me from beating a certain old man into a bloody pulp!”
He knew. Marinette smiled widely, a laugh tearing itself from her throat. Hysteric, overjoyed, free. He knew, and it was okay. She didn’t even have to tell him. She took a few steps back, and then vaulted straight over her railing.
“Catch!”
Jason threw his helmet to the side, running forward just in time for her to land safely in his arms. He glared down at her, but his eyes held no heat. “That was incredibly reckless. I shouldn't be proud, but I am. Don’t do that ever again.”
Marinette giggled. “No promises.”
Jason set her down, picking up his helmet before opening the storage on his bike and tossing her a smaller, pink one. “Sorry it took so long. I wanted to come last year, as soon as I figured out what had made you send that concerning letter, but I was told that I would be an instant Akuma. But after what happened yesterday…” Jason shook his head solemnly. “I knew you’d need a break. Come on, Gotham actually has some amazing ice cream.”
“How are we gonna get to Gotham right away? how did you..?”
Marinette paused, Jason keeping his motorcycle’s storage open just long enough for her to see his Red Hood helmet.
“We got portals for that,” he responded nonchalantly, nobody was nearby to overhear anyway. Marinette looked up when he closed the storage compartment, putting her helmet on.
“Well. Then I’m glad you actually took my rant on the Gotham vigilantes to heart and used my designs, because your old mask was disgustingly ugly.”
Jason rolled his eyes, and waited until she was behind him on the bike before revving it and replying;
“Trust me, I know your feelings on it. Demon Spawn and Replacement teamed up to steal that letter and made copies. Now one is pinned to the fridge and I spent another several hours cleaning up the ones they posted over every inch of my apartment walls.”
“... I approve.”
1K notes · View notes
darkcircles4lyfe · 3 years
Text
retrospective & predictions
Since we're on a hiatus week (between 320 and 321) I feel like waxing poetic about the depth and growth of bkdk for a bit. Especially because it seems like we’re right on the edge of their biggest development yet, I’m getting the urge to lay all my perspectives and insights I’ve picked up from others out on the table. This is ultimately only my subjective interpretation of subtextual material in canon, though. If you’ve never quite understood what people see in their dynamic and you’re actually open to hearing me out, maybe from this you can at least see where we’re coming from. And if you don’t like my takes after all, well, we’ll see who’s right in the coming chapters, won’t we? What I have to say can be taken platonically or romantically; I appreciate both. 
putting it under the cut, since it’ll be long:
At the risk of projecting, I want to start by examining a couple things based partly on personal experience.
From many different directions, I often hear people expressing that Deku’s persistent attachment and admiration for Bakugou is baffling at best. Despite the bullying, despite Bakugou’s loud, rude, and uncompromising personality, he still puts effort into their relationship and frequently describes him as amazing. It seems like Deku himself is aware of this as he’s said things along the lines of how he’s difficult, BUT... etc. Although I don’t think it’s exactly that Deku finds Bakugou’s personality hard to be around, but that he’s deliberately expressing patience for Bakugou’s emotional turmoil. 
I have to say I know what this sort of patience is like, as I went through it with someone I love. I only chose to put up with their behavior because I decided the possibility of what our relationship could be was worth it. I wasn’t blind or submissive to how they treated me, and I wasn’t coerced. I simply expressed myself and established my boundaries while still allowing them the opportunity to join me in my world once they got over their own hangups. And guess what? It worked out in the end. That doesn’t mean there aren’t circumstances where it’s better to cut ties, but I want to stress that true reconciliation is possible sometimes. I used to worry that other people around me thought I was delusional for seeking it, but what really helped was my therapist reminding me that I’m smart and strong. So I think Deku deserves to feel the same. In a way this is his whole mission in life, his approach to being a hero as well as his personal relationships.
Let me also be clear though that I don’t mean Deku is only tolerating Bakugou’s personality, his mannerisms, the parts of him that will likely never change. I’m drawing a line between those things and his emotional state (they so rarely align anyway, but I’ll get to that later). In fact, I think Bakugou’s general attitude is part of what Deku admires. This is gonna be hard to explain without inserting personal experience too, sorry. As a writer myself I’ve noticed I’m drawn to writing characters that are brazen and bold and don't mind telling people off. Really it’s because I operate in the world in the polar opposite way. I try not to draw attention to myself, I’m quiet, and I’m a people-pleaser. People who project confidence, especially in an impolite sort of way, fascinate me. It’s good to take cultural context into account, too: I've heard people who’d know better than me that part of the reason Bakugou is the most popular character in the Japanese fandom is likely because he contradicts a lot of their social norms. His disregard is refreshing and cathartic. I can speculate that Deku has a similar point of view based on what he thinks but does not admit about Bakugou being his image of victory and how this sometimes makes him mimic Bakugou’s speech and mannerisms: 
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There’s also the bit in this fight where Deku realizes he's the only one able to receive Bakugou’s emotions. This is because he’s the most intimately familiar with him and his situation, but I think there’s another layer. Deku, as we know, has a self-sacrificing tendency, and in the current chapters we’re seeing the worst side of that. But let’s also not forget that to an extent, it can be a positive trait: resilience. When it comes to Bakugou, he has an almost comical ability to dodge the potential fallout of his outbursts. The example we all jump to (and fight about..) is how in ch1, apart from the initial shock of Bakugou suggesting he jump off the roof, the most he reacts is to criticize him for saying such a ridiculous thing. However, I think their interaction post- sludge villain is a lot more interesting:
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Note two things: 1, in his head, Deku is practically making fun of how Bakugou’s acting as he stomps away without waiting for a reply. It doesn’t faze him. 2, Deku thinks, optimistically, that he can now focus on a different career choice. This is astonishing really. Up to this point, none of Bakugou’s attempts to put him down have worked; he just kept pursuing his dream. The only reason Deku concedes in this moment it because for the first time, he has been shown that he really couldn't do anything in a fight against a villain. All Might told him he couldn't be a hero (although he’s literally about to take that back in the next few pages lol) and the other heroes at the scene gave him a lecture about it too. It was those experiences, and not Bakugou’s words, that truly affected him. And when All Might tells Deku he can be a hero after all, it’s not thinking of Bakugou’s bullying that makes him sob and fall to his knees, it’s the memory of his own mom never telling him those words he so desperately needed to hear. Having spent most of their lives together, Deku must have been aware all this time that Baukgou was influenced by larger societal forces rather than a core judgement, so he didn’t take it personally. He separated the person from the action, and because he’s resilient and patient, he is thus equipped to handle Bakugou’s emotions. It’s a testament to his maturity and emotional intelligence, really. 
But I can almost hear some of you saying, “that doesn’t mean Deku should have to be the bigger person here!” Correct! Just because Deku is perfectly alright bearing all of that, doesn’t mean atonement-era Bakugou sees it this way. We can track his awareness of Deku’s care and selflessness as follows-
The bridge scene, when they’re little kids: Bakugou conflates Deku’s heroism with pity, and subsequently thinks Deku is looking down on him because Bakugou’s own insecurity makes him defensive.
The Sludge Villain, and also Deku vs. Kacchan Part 1: Bakugou witnesses first-hand how easily Deku jumps to risk his own life, but still thinks he’s being looked down on. 
The Sports Festival: Bakugou fights Uraraka and recognizes her endurance strategy and refusal to give up as very Deku-like. He’s half right. He thinks Deku advised her in the fight, when in reality she just mimicked Deku because she admired him. I want to draw attention to his very sober comment about her not being frail. It’s a great endearment of Uraraka’s character and Bakugou’s respect for her when others didn’t take “fighting a girl” seriously, but it also reflects on his opinion of Deku. Deku isn’t weak either. He never was.
Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2: Deku finally corrects him about the whole looking-down-on-him thing, and Bakugou is informed that Deku’s selflessness is in fact the reason All Might chose him. Since Bakugou had been in search of what he himself was “doing wrong” for All Might to favor Deku over him, he now has to reconcile the fact that selflessness is a heroic trait, and moreover something he lacks. This is also possibly the first time Bakugou is able to see his past actions toward Deku as bullying since he previously thought it was more mutual. Additionally, Bakugou can now link Deku’s selfless behavior to what he perceived as pity/contempt, and realize that Deku has been giving him A LOT of grace. Maybe too much. Maybe more than Bakugou deserves, and definitely more than Deku should have to. Holy heck- now Bakugou has to figure out how to live up to all the faith that’s been placed in him. 
Subtextually, we can see Bakugou’s feelings about atonement reflected in the Todoroki family:
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1, Shouto is another example of Deku growing a friendship using his selflessness (since their fight in the sports festival) and their relationship is being acknowledged here where it hasn’t been in Bakugou’s situation. Perhaps Bakugou is wishing it could be so simple for him, to be able to thank him for being his friend like that. Deku saying the pleasure is all his also probably calls to mind how a mere apology from Bakugou would probably be dismissed because that’s just the kind of accommodating person Deku is. Bakugou has to operate more quietly in order to actually make up for their past. I personally don’t interpret this scene as Bakugou being jealous of Deku and Shouto’s friendship, exactly, just the lack of emotional baggage. Side note, Deku and Fuyumi are kinda similar in their desire to repair relationships. I like that she’s the one to give him some credit. 
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2, With the common terminology, this can be interpreted as Bakugou receiving a model for atonement, one that is about action, and nothing to do with receiving favor or forgiveness. It’s a sense of duty. 
Many of the above sentiments are repeated in the flashback conversation between All Might and Bakugou right before Bakugou’s sacrifice. 
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Bakugou acknowledges his bullying and that it happened because of his own insecurities, but aside from that, it’s interesting he neither confirms nor denies All Might’s suggestion that he’s trying to atone, or that Deku doesn’t see it that way. All Might is a bit of an unreliable mentor sometimes, but I don’t think he’s misreading here. Rather, Bakugou is displaying his tendency to hold back when talking about things that would make him really emotional. Besides, admitting to what he’s doing kind of defeats the purpose. He isn’t seeking acknowledgement. All Might has gotten to the crux of the issue here when pointing out that Deku doesn’t recognize the atonement, likely because Deku doesn't think Bakugou even needs to atone. Am I reading into it too much to say Bakugou looks wistful at this? It’s kinda frustrating sometimes trying to interpret Bakugou’s actions because he’s so paradoxical. Loud and in your face, but also extremely reserved. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, but hey, being hard to figure out is part of his intrigue as a character. The simplest way to look at him is to assume that unless he’s really showing vulnerability, he’s probably deflecting and hiding something.
Speaking of Bakugou’s tendency to to hold back emotional stuff, there’s his apparent lack of issue with Deku calling him Kacchan. Maybe to begin with, in his warped perception of things where he thought they hated each other, Bakugou saw it as Deku’s way of getting back at him for calling him “useless,” and didn't dare give any indication that it actually bothered him. However... consider how betrayed Bakugou has appeared when he was noticeably thinking Deku was looking down on him- the bridge scene, and the beginning of their first year at UA when he thought Deku was hiding a quirk all along. He looks shocked and hurt. That kind of emotion couldn’t be invoked by someone Bakugou didn’t actually care about his relationship with. “Kacchan” comes from a long time ago, before their relationship was strained, so it’s connotations are pure. Maybe somewhere deep down, Bakugou has always been hoping that Deku’s continued use of the nickname was not simply a matter of habit or teasing, but a vestige of friendship they’re both clinging to, and Bakugou himself was too afraid to admit to himself that he felt this way about it, so he mostly ignored it. (These are not original thoughts I am having here lol, this is a common interpretation. I’m just laying everything out like I said.) 
And now we turn to the current situation. Personally, I’ve been looking frantically back and forth between them wondering who’s going to break down first (Deku vs. Kacchan Part 3, this time it’s just a fight to get the other person to cry? ha.) Both have looked like they’re approaching a breaking point for some time. Also, I’ve addressed this before, but I think it’s significant that Bakugou is no longer wearing his mask with his hero costume, in contrast to Deku recently donning his own. It feels symbolic of Bakugou about to be upfront about how he feels.
The question is, what is it going to take to get Deku to accept help? If you ask me, Deku has dug himself so deeply into the I’m-doing-this-for-everyone-else’s-safety-and-smiles hole, no common sense argument can possibly reach him. By the end of 320, Deku’s mask is off, and we can see how desperate he truly is. But he has not cried, yet. I predict we’re going to see a bit more of his defiance, this time on full display on his face as the remaining class members and his other friends take their turns. But then I think Bakugou has to be the one to break down so Deku can witness his actions having the opposite effect he intended. People have been pointing out that Deku is currently ignoring Bakugou, and oof, that’s gotta be intentional. Regardless of what Bakugou says, it’s going to be wrapped up not only in his understanding of Deku’s self-sacrifice, but also the betrayal Bakugou feels at being ignored/left behind that ironically echoes his previous perception of being looked down on, as well as a need to express how much he cares about Deku before it’s too late. He must show that the two of them are inseparable because they both act to save each other without thinking, and both feel like losing the other would be like dying themselves. All Might may have been right when he told them they could learn from each other after Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2, but he didn’t fully realize that idea by making sure they stuck by each other for support and balance. 
I can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when they do finally get to that point, totally in synch and in tune with each other. They’ll be a powerful force no one is quite prepared for. Who knows when that will be, or even which chapter will be their big showdown, but I know the day is coming.
To speculate even further, I think the 2nd user is going to be really important really soon. And no I don’t mean to suggest that the 2nd user is Bakugou. But I do think their resemblance is key. Okay this is gonna be convoluted...
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See how 2nd is the only one still standing? I think that’s symbolic of him withholding his quirk. Deku may not even know what it is at this point, let alone have unlocked it. Given that 2nd approves of Deku’s strategy at this point, it seems odd for him to withhold his quirk based on lack of faith. I think if his quirk was something that would help Deku in combat, he would have shown it to him already like the others did. So what if those gauntlets of his are support items that are meant to make up for his lack of a combat-oriented quirk, rather than to augment it? Mind you, I still have no idea what his mysterious power might be, but I’m dead set on it not being explosion-y. Regardless, I think 2nd looking like Bakugou is more about aiding some grand visual parallel, so! You know how 2nd and 3rd were probably intending to do away with Yoichi but 2nd changed his mind as soon as they made eye contact? This is really a long shot, but I wonder if 2nd’s quirk has something to do with that exchange. Maybe it’s something psychological, or some 6th sense about people he meets. So... in that way 2nd’s quirk could play a role in bkdk reaching a deeper understanding? Idk! But it could be significant at least that 2nd left Yoichi’s question about why he reached out to him unanswered. 
One more thing- while I was gathering screenshots I found this. I think “you’re the last one I’m telling” might be foreshadowing for Bakugou revealing his hero name to Deku and it being a Big Deal:
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As for other lingering threads in the overall plot right now, such as the UA traitor, Stain, whatever Tsuyu is apparently about to do, All Might’s car maybe in the background of the last page of 320... man I have no idea. All I know is there’s literally 320 chapters’ worth of build-up to this confrontation that can’t be interrupted. 
See you next week <3
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Text
An anonymous love (Part 1)
Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particulary rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.
Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, reader is worried about Sirius, not proof read
Word count : 1.8k
English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes
You're here - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
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Y/N loved receiving letters but even more sending them, she loved including all sorts of little gifts in hers; flowers, drawings, photographs, candies sometimes, she loved it even more now she was a witch,  she started doing experiments with her magic. She learned how to make the drawings moves, charms the flowers so they would reopen as fresh as new, she even found a way for the letter to be read out loud if desire, in a way were it doesn’t fold and destroy itself the ways howlers do, so it could be listen to over and over again, her family especially loved that one.
She wanted to see now if could even include kisses, or even hugs, the feeling of arm wrapping around you to squeeze you tight was one of the best feeling to her and she wanted to be able to send it to anyone, so they could feel it whenever they wanted.
She was able to put the hugs and the kisses on little cards who had to be unfold, it took many mistake, accidents and retry but she was able to do it after some times. It wasn’t as reusable has she had hoped, only three uses who doesn’t last more than five seconds, but she was confident enough to know she will do better in the future.
She had send her last version to her parents a few days ago, one she was the proudest of, and was now waiting for their respond. Making sure everything was perfect was important as the first time she tried to do it the message felt like a dagger stabbing her chest. Thankfully she had no injuries, Mrs Pomfrey assured her there were nothing, the pain stayed a few hours though and she could have kissed the nurse for excusing her from the morning class that day, she would have not been able to work anyway.
Y/N was now waiting at the slytherin table next to the few friends she was able to make among her own house, quietly eating while listening to the crazy story of the friend on her right, laughing joyfully. She turned her head when she saw the owls starting to enter the room, eager to find if she will receives the respond of her parents, she watch as the other student opened their own mail, including the raven-haired boy at the gryffindor table, Sirius Black.
He had catch the eye of Y/N like many others, girls and boys, but she never dared to make a move, she was a slytherin and she knew how much he hated them. She had thought many times to send him an anonymous later but what for ? It would be a lost cost and she rather let the feeling die rather than being hurt. Well, at least she thought her feelings would disappear as time went by but she was incredibly wrong, it only got more intense.
Being in most of his classes was of no help, his cocky behavior, his stunning looks and charming smile. What bugged her the most was how brilliant he was, she never saw him study or even really paid good attention in class but was somehow able to earn good marks. She was a bit jealous of him for that if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t a bad student per say but did have to be focused and study to have good grades. They talked a few times before, mostly him helping her out with classes but he was nothing but nice and patient with her despote the green of her tie.
She fell for him even more when she saw him helping first years travelling the corridors and defending a third year against her bully, the punch was perfectly aimed for Merlin’s sake ! She loved every story he told her, all the pranks, the aventures, the quidditch match. The more she learned about him, the more difficult it was for her to keep her eye away from him.
“You’re drooling again”, Jacob snapped her out of her mind “ ‘m not !” swipping her lips just to be sure, making her friends laugh, she was red of embarassment, so out she hadn’t notice the owl giving her her parent’s letter. She gratefully took it before giving a bit of food to the owl who then flied away. Y/N got interrupt has she was opening the enveloppe.
“C’mon, you cant’ keep looking at him from afar for the rest of school ! Talk to him for once and save us the lover eyes !” said Olivia, “I can’t, you know he hates slytherins” her friend opened her mouth to protest before being cut. “Plus, he is way out of my league, he is like-" Y/N hesited a bit on her words, waving her hand around “- a sun giving life around him and I’m just somekind of, I don’t know, insect in the dirt”. Her friends around all gave a chorus of long sighs, they heard that a million times before, she rolled her eyes “My point is, I will never have the courage to ask him out”.
Before anyone could talk, a loud sound was heard comming from the gryffindor table, followed by the sound of turn up paper. When Y/N looked, she frowned, seeing Sirius almost running out of the room. “Wait mate !” James Potter, his best friend, tried to follow him but Remus Lupin stopped him. Y/N didn’t quite catch what they were saying, something about him needing to be alone.
And alone he stayed, she didn’t see him for the rest of the day, and she learned during the dinner that night it was because of the letter he received from home, it was quite known by most of the people who cared enough to be aware of the disastrous relationship of Sirius and his family, as it wasn’t unusual to see the boy upset because of his mother. Y/N’s blood boiled every time it would happened, how could someone treat their child that way ? Taking their time to write every horrid words just to cause pain ? Using something she loved so much to cause trouble instead as it should be : for the one you loved.
The scene earlier that day worked her up so much, she put her parent’s latter away without reading it, and it is only now in her bed she remembered even having it. She smiled at the curved letters, it was her mother’s handwritting, she very enthousiatly explain how her and her dad loved the hug, that coupled with the speaking spell “It was like you were right here with us !”, well not quite as she precised right after, but it felt nice to feel and hear their daughter after so many weeks apparts. She laughted when her father this time wrote she should find a way to commercial it, as she will become the richest witch of the wizard world. “Sure thing dad” she thought to herself. She carefully fold the paper before putting it in her “letter box”.
Then when she laid down, she couldn’t stop feeling sad for Sirius, he had such terrible parents but deserved so much more. She turned and turned and turned around in her bed, searching for a way to cheer him up and then she stopped, thinking of the letter of her parents and the success of the hug in the message, perhaps, she could send him something ..? She blushed at the idea, what could she says ? “Hey, your parents suck but your butty could send me in outter space”, sure, yeah, what a great idea Y/N.
She sighed, fine, maybe not that harsh but she could try to remind him how much is he loved here and how much of a great person he is. So she sat down in her bed, took a piece of parchment, her ink and her quill, careful to not wake up her roomates as she closed her curtains. She blow air through her mouth for a minute, gathering some courage, and then she start to write, hoping he would like it.
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The next day when she woke up, or more like when it was time to get ready since she didn’t close her eye all night, wanting the message to be perfect : the drawing, an illustration of a dog, a stag, a rat and the moon, remembering the nickname and the jokes the marauders gave and made to eachothers, she charmed it for the little animals to run around the paper, leaving paws or hooves print behind –which disappear after a few step of course-, the curves of the words, the ink, she had opt for her favorite dark purple, the flowers had she picked, some wind-flower and cyclamen, that she carefully stuck to the parchment.
And of course the final touch : a kiss on the forhead. She had thought of a hug but decided it was too much, it could be scary to suddenly feels arms around you. A smol kiss was more appropriate, a bit bold yeah, but more fleeting, less intimidating and still a tender gesture.
When she was happy with the result and check any error in her words she put the message in an envelopt, decorated with stars, showing the cannis constellation, because of Sirius name obviously. And then put it in her bag, careful so her friend would not see it.
Once she was ready and out of her room with her friends, she realised she had no idea on how to give it to him. Surely not by hand, she didn’t put her name anywhere for a reason, maybe slide it into his bag during class ? But she was to scared to be caught.
She didn’t have to worry about it to much, since Sirius wasn’t at the class she shared with him, his friends looked troubled and worried, calmer than usual. Y/N felt a weight setting in her stomach, was the letter that bad he didn’t want to show up today either ? When he wasn’t at lunch either, she decided to send him by owl.
She excused herself from her friend, saying she had to send a letter, it wasn’t unusual for her to do so, so they didn’t even flinch. Once at the owl aviary and once she gave it to an owl and walked away, trying not to think to much, she stop. What if the letter only made him more upset ? Of course nothing she wrote was mean, but what if he didn’t like at all the idea of some unknown person looking in his private life ? Feeling arrogant enough to think they could cheer him up when his friends, those whom he consider family, weren’t able to do it ? Y/N turned around to take the letter back but it was too late, the bird had fly away, and since he was at hogwarts, he will have it in a few minutes only.
She felt the weight in her stomach get heavier, she hoped so much it will not make things worse.
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Hoped you liked my first fic ! I don't know when the second part will be posted but I'll do my best for it to be soon.
Have a nice day ! Love you <3
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