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unknown-writerraine · 2 years

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"I can't stand you." Yandere!Draco x reader

DON'T REPOST MY WORK TO DIFFERENT PLATFORMS THANKS!

Series summary: "I can't stand being near you or looking at you." is what I would say if I wasn't so obsessed with you.

"Leave me alone." is what I would say if I didn't crave your attention every time I'm near you.

Where Draco finds you tolerable and soon finds himself being possessive and longing for you, thinking that he was 'in love' with you, Now Draco wants you all to himself and his parents abide to his wishes of wanting you by his side.

*Start in 3rd year of Hogwarts*

"If I can't have you then no one can."

Draco had a realisation when it came to you.

Despite you being a pushover you were slowly becoming more social because of the time you spent with him, he found it rather pleasant that you're becoming more open because of him.

But he didn't like it when the Golden trio had taken interest towards you, whenever he was nowhere around you he found the Granger girl talking to you about school.

Weasely coming up to you asking all about Dumstrang for some reason and then Harry just wanting to invite you on outings in Hogwarts.

And he also finds you bringing him sweets from Hogsmeade because he can't go!

He knew when he approaches you to stop hanging out with them you'll get defensive, so he took another initiative and approach the trio himself.

Draco was in the library with Theo, Blaise and Pansy telling them about you and his problem.

"You really seem to taken a liking to them." Pansy chimes, finding some good material to tease Draco about.

Draco huffs and writes down on his parchment paper, "Yeah, I agree with Pansy, you've never been this whipped about someone before." He informs.

Theo then nodded in agreement.

Draco ignores the three and continues to write, Pansy slaps his arm, Draco looks up at her and glares, "We can stay with them whenever your gone and when the Gryffindors approach we'll be there to lead them away." she says the idea she thought of.

Blaise and Theo look at each other then to Draco, "It's a good idea." They say, Draco contemplates this for a bit, he did have a hard time trying to get you to himself but he knew that if he made one wrong move you'll start suspecting things and distance yourself from him, something he doesn't want happening.

And having the people he trusts most keeping you away from others would be good, if the Gryffindor trio approaches you and then they could easily lead you away and distract you with something else.

"Yeah, that would be best." He says as he dips his quill into the ink once again and starts writing again, The other three Slytherins agree because, if you want something you might as well lay claim so no one else has the audacity to claim it for themselves.

You don't know what you're getting yourself into when Draco introduces you to your friends, although a bit reluctant you warm up to them, their always by your side when Draco wasn't around, a bit strange but you could just assume that Draco wants you to socialize all on your own.

You do get shy sometimes but you build up courage to invite Draco and his friends to this Christmas ball your parents were hosting during Christmas break.

Draco was ecstatic when you came up to him and his friends to personally hand them the letter invitations, somehow looking pretty looking because the envelopes were personally decorated by you to match their likes and aesthetic, "I told my Mom and Dad about you guys and knew how fond I was getting and decided to send me these invitations for our yearly Christmas ball that we hold at the mansion." you say to them.

Draco's heart leapt, he got to go to where you live and meet your family! It's like a reward, 2-in-1.

When it came to actually leaving Hogwarts, the Five of you stayed in the same compartment and you promised them that you'd write, but Draco made you promise to write him everyday you laughed it off for a bit but seeing how serious he was you had agreed, all without knowing how you were fueling the fire to spread.

When you were at Kings-cross station you met Draco's Parents there, you bowed in front of them and introduced yourself, Lucius was impressed with your mannerisms and even more about a famous pure-blood family you belonged to.

Then the voice of your butler was heard, turning around you were met with your middle-aged butler, "It's time to go Mx. L/n, the Mr. and Mrs. are waiting for you at home." he says, his voice still having the same comfort it has, You turned to Draco and hugged him goodbye.

"I'll write to you everyday!" you say as you run up to your butler who pulled out his wand to move your luggage out.

Draco's parents glanced at him and then to each other, plans already forming in their heads.

I understand its only been about 5 chapters and we're going to fast and the timelines are screwed but I should mention that the canon Harry Potter story won't be mentioned just small bits to progress the story.

I'm sorry if any of you are confused with the timing I try to connect the story to canon but I think that would only confuse you guys more so I'll stick to making the events non-canon.

#Yandere blog #Yandere x reader #Yandere #Yandere fanfiction #Draco x reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy #Yandere!Draco x reader #Harry Potter #Harry Potter x reader #Harry Potter fanfiction #obssesion #obssesive behavior

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minor-solemnity · 3 years

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Hi, you’re writing is so beautiful, thank you for sharing it :)

Can I request a Tom x Reader where they take a mini vacation somewhere really secluded and they’re so happy to be finally spending time with eachother and they’re both just being super domestic and sweet.

Thank you! 🤍

Thank you my love! This prompt is giving me life istg, sweet and domestic Tom is my jam <3 I hope you like it (also am I basically writing what my dream holiday is? it's definitely possible)

Tag List : @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons @riddles-wifey (send me a message if you'd want to be added to the tag list!)

We are Mosaics

Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

You’re sitting on your sofa in the small flat you’ve rented above Flourish and Blotts glaring at the letter that sits innocently on the coffee table in front of you when Tom apparates through your wards. Your mood, which has been growing increasingly dark with the setting sun lifts somewhat when you see him. His jacket folded neatly over his arm and his white shirt slightly rumpled from the day, his hair, which he styles with care every morning is falling in soft waves across his forehead. In short, he looks like every one of your daydreams and you’re filled with a contented sort of triumph that it’s you who he comes home to most evenings. Your flat is small and certainly not big enough for you both to live comfortably, but he spends more time here than he does at his own, equally poky, abode.

His gaze flickers over the letter on the coffee table and you can see him putting the pieces together. “Bad news, I take it?” He asks in a slightly cautious tone that tells you he’s waiting for your imminent breakdown. You nod and sigh as you push yourself up from where you’ve been sulking for most of the afternoon. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, the same way you always do, the same way you always have, and nestle yourself against him, allowing yourself to feel comforted and protected by the feeling of his arms around you.

“I just don’t understand why no one will give me a chance. I had the best marks in Arithmancy in the year,” You grumble into his chest. “Did you hear that Pearson got that Potions Mastery? He got an A in his NEWTS, Tom. Why does he get to do a Mastery and all I get is rejection letters?” You sigh because you know the answer. It’s the same reason that Tom wasn’t offered any of the prodigious jobs at the Ministry despite being the most talented wizard you’ve ever met with a resume that proves it. Wizarding society might be more progressive than the muggle world in some ways, but in the ways that matter to you and Tom, it was still stuck in the Middle Ages.

Eventually, you disentangle yourself from him and you spend the rest of the evening curled up on the sofa with him, reading and chatting idly about the stranger aspects of your respective magical theory texts. “Did you know about the coven in the Dolomites from the 1450s?” He asks, eyes trained on the page in front of him.

“Mmm, they’re the first known herders of thestrals, weren’t they?” He nods and you smile softly, “I’ve always wanted to visit there, you know? Ever since we learnt about thestrals in fourth year.”

You don’t think anything of it but Tom turns to look at you and you recognise the determined glint in his eye and the set line of his lips which lets you know that a plan is forming and he won’t be dissuaded easily. “The Malfoy’s have a cottage in the Dolomites. I’ll talk to Abraxas.” He says it with such finality that you’re almost surprised before you remember that this is Tom. Tom who’s had his Slytherin cohort eating out of the palm of his hand for years, Tom who had marriage offers from a few of the lesser-known pureblood families, Tom who puts the fear of God into the hearts of most men. Of course, Abraxas would give him his family cottage.

“The perks of having rich friends, I suppose,” You say with a small laugh and the smile he gives you in return is indulgent.

***

When Tom had first told you about Abraxas’ family cottage, you had imagined that your definition of a cottage and the Malfoy’s would be vastly different. You’d gone with Tom to one of the Malfoy Christmas parties once and had almost cried at the luxury and decadence. You’re pleasantly surprised though to find that the cottage is exactly as you’d hoped it would be: sturdy white stone, lattice windows, and a multitude of wild mountain flowers that make the place look like a fae dwelling. “This is gorgeous,” You murmur as you wander through the garden, letting the warm summer mountain air fill your lungs. “I never would have thought that the Malfoy’s would own somewhere quite so homely.” Behind you, Tom laughs softly.

“I think there’s a distant cousin who fancied herself a Marie Antoinette figure,” He says, stepping closer to you and resting his chin on the top of your head. “Are you happy?” He asks and you hum in response, bringing your arms up behind you to card through his hair. You twist around pull him closer and his hands drop to your waist as he kisses you.

You spend most of the rest of the day exploring the paths and trails close to the cottage whilst Tom sets up the wards. The worries and stresses of London seem so far away and you relish in the slight breeze against your bare arms and the feeling of long grass and wildflowers against your legs.

You think back to your childhood, to the holidays spent in English seaside resorts with your parents; when the war broke out, the holidays stopped. Your father disappeared into a trench somewhere and your mother had taken you back to her parents home and left the muggle world for good but she was never quite the same after. Hogwarts and the wizarding world, in general, offered you an escape. A home away from the sorrow of watching your family drift and sink into unspoken grief and sadness. You’d found Tom somewhere along the way, both of you finding some kind of solace and familiarity in each other. A tentative friendship had formed that had turned to a tentative romance.

You wonder sometimes, why he sticks around. Unlike the boys he surrounded himself at school with, you can’t offer him money or power or glory. You’ve had to fight for every opportunity given to you, just the same as him, and it’s still not enough. In your more anxious moments, you think about his future and your uncertainty over where you fit into it. Now, under the clear Italian skies, you think that maybe the answer is obvious: you fit together like pieces of a mosaic. Each of your broken and jagged edges finding a home next to his.

***

“You’re aware that you’re a witch, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice floats through the open doorway and you chuckle from where you’re standing on one of the kitchen workbenches. You glance over your shoulder and find him watching you with a mix of exasperation, confusion, and mild amusement. He walks over to you and stares at the pile of dough you’re kneading, his eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll get Abraxas to send one of his house-elves.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head fondly. Tom’s disdain for all things muggle has diminished since you’ve known him, or at least, he’s less likely to voice his opinions to you. “That’s not the point, making bread is meditative. Come on, here,” You gesture for him to take over and watch with poorly hidden amusement as he frowns and takes a step back. “You once made Peeves cry out of fear, Tom, you can’t honestly be intimidated by some flour and water.” You raise an eyebrow and try to smother your grin with an unimpressed expression. You’ve found that the easiest way of getting Tom to do anything is to suggest that he can’t.

As expected, he glowers and rolls his sleeves up. “I’m not intimidated, darling, I just don’t see the point in slaving away over something that could easily be accomplished with magic,” He says smoothly even as he approaches the dough and gingerly pokes it. This time, you don’t manage to hide your laughter and you cover his hands with yours and begin to guide him through the motions. A companionable silence falls upon the two of you and you relish the feeling of his chest against your back, his soft breathing in your ear, his hands moving under yours. Sunshine filters through the open window and you listen to the distant birdsong in quiet contentment.

Once the bread has baked, the two of you wander along the mountain trail that leads to a secluded lake. The water is crystal clear and the kind of icy blue that you’ve only seen in paintings. Tom leads you to a small jetty and conjures a pile of blankets and pillows that you quickly set about making a nest out of. You sit cross-legged, Tom’s head resting in your lap as he reads passages from the book he’s brought with him out loud to you. “According to legend, the Monti Pallidi used to be formed of dark looming rock face and the lakes were murky and black, but there was a princess from the moon who took refuge in the Dolomites and to ease her homesickness, the mountains remade themselves with pale stone and clear waters.”

“She must have been lonely, being so far away from home,” You murmur, carding a hand through his hair as you tilt your head to stare at the pale mountains that surround you. “You know, I sometimes think of you a bit like that, like you’re a moon and I’m a satellite in your orbit.” He hums softly, and you’re not sure if it's in agreement or contemplation. You shift slightly and reach for the food that you’ve packed: fresh fruit, cured meats, hard Italian cheese, a bottle of wine that you’d found in the cellars (no doubt worth more than Tom makes in a year), and of course, the bread you’d made earlier.

You tear off a couple of chunks of bread and pass one to Tom, who takes it and sniffs it delicately before he takes a small bit. You breathe a huff of laughter at his behaviour and he lazily reaches up to cuff the side of your head. “See, it’s good, isn’t it? This kind of thing is always better when you make it yourself,” He rolls his eyes but tears off another chunk, which you take to mean he is, in fact, enjoying it.

The afternoon fades into evening, and twilight descends upon the mountains. You rearrange yourselves so that your sat side by side, gazing up at the moon that is just becoming visible. “You know, I would do more than remake a mountain range if you asked.” Warmth settles deep in your bones despite the chill in the night air. Tom turns to watch you and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “I would remake the entire world for you.” You don’t doubt him either, Tom is a force of nature, always has been. He’s a visionary and you’re not always sure if that’s a good thing, but, years ago, he saw something in you and now he looks at you as though you are everything that he wants in the world.

You reach over and hold his hand, letting his touch ground you, “For now, this is enough.” You mean this moment, sitting here with him. You also mean the life you are slowly patching together, one mosaic tile at a time.

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #minific #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fic #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt #asks #requests #request

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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

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Winter In The Shade VIII

Part VIII

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2793

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: Food. Mentions of eating.

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Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You have all of your things?” you asked him, arms intertwined as you walked all the way to the train. It was a cold morning, your voice turning into a cloud of breath each time you muttered a word. Small snowflakes filled the air as some landed on top of your head and the reddish parts of your cheeks. Your eyes turned from Regulus to the top of your nose where one small flake settled, the only thing pulling you from the haze of the light snowfall being Regulus chuckle at your side. You pursed your lips in amusement as you blew some air, the little hairs falling out of your hat moving with the motion. “Stop.” you chuckled.

He shook his head, eyes glued to the front with his chin up all the time. It was impossible to get Regulus in nothing but perfection. Perfect posture. Perfect words. Perfect grades. Perfect imperfections.

“You keep getting those flakes off your face.” he laughed, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at you “Ten more will take their place.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, using your hand to shake the snowflakes off your face, scrunching your nose as shivers ran down your spine at the cold feeling of the snow melting against your skin “They get in my eyes.” you murmured, shaking your head in defeat “But don’t change the subject! Do you have all of your stuff?” you asked again, eyes falling to the small suitcase on his other hand “You're going for two weeks, you know?” you asked him incredulously.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, not saying a word as you shrugged your shoulders, holding tightly to his arm as you both approached the train.

Few students were left near you, the small crowds there boarding all together as the train started to make more noise and the vapor in the sky clouded, the train announcing itself it was almost time to go.

You pulled Regulus' arm, stopping his steps a few feet from the door. He was standing right in front of you, lowering his suitcase to the floor as he placed his free hand over yours holding onto his arm. No words were exchanged as you both stared at each other, your eyes saying more than either of you could muster with words. But still, words were needed.

“Have fun.” you told him, your voice turning to your imitation of a mom voice, making him roll his eyes. “I mean it.” you said, pointing a finger at him “You will go home and be happy because it's christmas. You’ll enjoy it with your family, eat all the food you can, and get your presents.” you said with a smile. “Of course, the first few days you can be miserable because I’m not with you…”

“Right.” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“...even cry a little. I will be waiting for your tear stained letters.”

And then the silence fell between the two of you again. Were you supposed to feel that emotional? Was he feeling the same tightness in his chest? You felt your lower lip start to tremble, the hopeful thought that it was your imagination or the cold air disappearing as he tilted his head. His eyes were almost guilty as they followed every movement of your face.

“Y/N…” he started to say but you raised your hand to his chest, turning your face to the side as you used your sleeve to wipe the few tears that started to pool on your eyes.

“Don´t.” you laughed, voice raspy as you let out more breathy laughs “Merlin, turn around while I compose myself.” you told him, using your hand to push him away.

You should have known he already had a secure grasp on your wrist, your attempt to push away useless as he pulled towards him. It took you one word from him to wrap your arms around his chest, his arms holding you close to him as he rested his chin on top of your head, the light sounds of your crying only audible to him.

“You know I’m coming back, right?” he asked. There was no teasing in his voice, no joke, no attempt at humour. You nodded your head against his chest, tightening your hold on him. “It’s not even two weeks, I’ll be back before you even know it.”

“I know.” you said, slowly walking away from him. Holding your head low as you cleaned your face before you looked back at him.

Your eyes met his and the whole world stopped. You two were the only ones standing out in the cold morning. The voices faded, the images of everything surrounding you melted to simple colors without shape. You were sure when you died, your first request would see the exact moment Regulus Black became so important to you. You would give everything you had to see the moment where two souls connected on such a level your body aches from being away from him for just two weeks.

The whistle from the person gathering all the people meant to board the train pulled you out of your trance, making you turn your head in the direction of the sound.

Regulus took in the moment, your face turned from him as the distraction provided with the perfect moment. The hand that was not holding your reach to the inside pocket of his coat. A small package wrapped neatly with a small green bow on top laid on his hand as he waited for you to turn back to him, but it felt you were avoiding the sight of him, your side profile making the air get caught in his lungs as he could see the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He called your name softly, the word barely a whisper that reached your ear in a plea. You purse your lips, a tight smile in its place as you turn to him, your eyes immediately falling to his hand and erasing any act from your face.

“We agreed on no presents.” you said, brow furrowed as you looked up to him “Remember?”

He had the ghost of a smile on his face as he offered you the small package “Don’t think of it as a present.” he said, watching the usual sparkle of your eyes return “An apology. For making you cry.”

Your shoulders fell back to their place as you relaxed your muscles, a side smile making its way to your lips as you took the present from his hand “I guess I can accept that.” You didn’t miss the satisfactory look on his face as you tugged the present under your arm, crossing your arms with an amused look “An Slytherin apologizing? Might ruin your evil reputation, don’t you think?”

The smirk on his lips grew as he watched the man blow on his whistle once more, the place deserted except for the two of you standing there with the confidence enough to mask the emotional goodbye that was unfolding “A Ravenclaw showing any sign of emotion?” he said back, licking his lips as his eyes returned to you “Someone might get the idea you actually have a heart.”

You bit back the laugh, shaking from the cold and the urge to burst out laughing “Go,” you pushed him softly, getting the suitcase in his hand as he walked to the door, you following close behind him “Before you find out how heartless I actually am.”

He boarded the train without another word, the smile never fading from his face. He didn’t dare to look out the window while the train started moving, he feared he might get one look at you and jumped out of the train before it was too late. He had matters to attend back at home.

“You're not boarding the train, miss?” asked the man, hand in the handle of the door as he entered the train.

You shook your head, smiling tightly at him as you took a step back, and another, and another. The train started to move, first slowly like it carried the heaviness of your wish for Regulus to stay and then more fluidly, realization settling deep inside of you as you accepted that even if you didn’t like it this was for the better.

*******

“Merry Christmas, Y/N!” cheered Félix as he saw you walking down the stairs of the common room, eyes still laced with sleep as you rubbed harshly there and your entire face. You only registered a pair of arms circling your middle with the strength of Christmas morning , making you place your arms instantly around the boy's head in some sort of hug.

“Merry Christmas Félix.” you said in your most cheerful tone, even if your voice was raspy he seemed satisfied, taking your hand and dragging you to the couches near the fireplace, the low fire offering enough warmth to make you sigh as you sat down “Got any presents?” you asked him after a big yawn he mimicked not one second later.

“Plenty.” he laughed, as his arms tried to pile up everything he got from under the tree. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as he kept piling up his present in front of you, his parents were definitely making it up for not celebrating Christmas with him.

You lowered yourself to the floor, sitting next to him “And do I have any presents?” you asked, knowing perfectly well the answer.

“Two.” said Félix, reaching his hand under the tree for you. He pulled the small package from Regulus and a bigger box with the writing from your parents sticking out on the note. You took them from his hands, smiling at him as he was basically shaking from excitement. Oh, to be so young on Christmas morning again. “Shall we?” you asked him. He didn’t bother with an answer, ripping the paper from the first box at reach, tuning you and the entire world from his perception. You chuckled softly, taking your own presents.

You were more curious about Regulus’ present, the agreement you two made clearly a joke that left you feeling guilty on the train station once you saw he got you something. He was supposed to honor your agreements.

Taking your time, seeing Félix still had a mountain of presents to open, you slowly unwrapped the paper, an old looking book showing itself under the dull brown paper. But you knew better, a smile forming on your lips as you took all the paper away. It might have looked like a book but you knew it was more, something you had seen once and had obsessed over.

“A box that looks like a book?” he asked you once you presented the idea to him, the look of disbelief in his eyes making you roll your eyes. “Why would you want that?”

“Have a little imagination, Black.” you scoffed, never losing your smile and excitement.

He shook his head and you jumped in front of him, making a show with your hands to try to act mysterious “A book that you can hide in plain sight. A box to hold your secrets.”

Smiling to the memory, you ran your finger over the lid. Moving the box in your hands to take a look at all of its faces, it was the last thing you did to open it. The smile on your face only grew, a picture of the two of you laying inside the box.

You didn’t know who took the picture, the frame showing you and Regulus in the library, sitting down on the table with the entirety of your books open before you. You had a wild look on your face, hands pointing to different books as your mouth moved at light speed, across from you Regulus holding his head on his hands with a confused look before he dropped his forehead to the table.

You laughed at the memory, closing the lid of the box and taking a look back at Félix “Let’s get breakfast.”

*******

To say the Great Hall was empty was a hopeful attempt to paint a more cheerful picture in your head. You doubted the entirety of the people sitting on the middle table of the Great Hall could fill an entire classroom, the students from all ages and houses gathered at the very front of the room, all bundled together to keep the cold at bay and have some company for the day. This was the first time you had stayed back at Hogwarts for the Holidays, not once imagining that it would be like this. They were all laughing, the cheerful sounds echoing from the empty walls of the room as their smiles reached their eyes. You always thought that the few students that stayed there would be all by themselves, at least that was what you were planning on doing, but seeing them all gathered together around the food, sharing their stories and exchanging small yet thoughtful presents, it warmed your heart and gave a more hopeful look into the next few days.

Félix jumped beside you, running the few last steps to the group as you followed. “Merry Christmas, Ravenclaws.” said one of the older Hufflepuffs, Peter.

“Merry Christmas.” you said, meeting eyes with everyone on the table as you sat down. You started to put food on your plate, sensing the quiet that fell over the group as you took your first bite. “Is something wrong?” you asked, seeing as everyone had their eyes on you, small giggles escaping their lips.

“You’re new.” said Peter with a smile, taking a sip from his mug as they all nodded in agreement “It’s usually the same people that stay at Hogwarts around this time.” Your face fell, looking down to Félix who was happily munching on a piece of fruit until his eyes met yours. “You stay here every year?” you asked him, the pit in your stomach growing as you remembered you were the only two Ravenclaws in the Castle.

He shrugged, taking another bite from his breakfast as everyone gave him a look. He sighed in defeat, dropping his fork “It’s not that bad.”

“It really isn’t.” added another girl, giving Félix a nudge in the arm “We have fun.”

“Still,” intervened Peter “This is your first time here. Why is that?”

You relaxed a little on your seat, spinning the fork in your hand “Didn’t feel like going home this year.” you lied, lowering your eyes. If they realized you were lying or not, they said nothing about it.

Breakfast took a peaceful and quiet time after your introduction, chatting away about everything and anything. It was when you all had finished that the place started to gather more energy, the fuzz of all the possibilities for the day started to become more tangible.

It was like the energy summoned them.

The loud whistles an shouts started to come even before they were inside the Great Hall, the doors bursting open with the full force of the four man running inside and jumping over the table, wands at hand pointed at the ceiling that impressively changes to the most pure color white, the cold air rapidly flowing over the cheeks of the cheering students at your sides, snow falling over the plates of forgotten food before them.

It wasn’t until they ran all the way to the group that you started to recognize them, the world slowing down before your eyes. The first one, passing right next to you with a grin on his face was Peter Pettigrew, he would sometimes wave at you around the halls after he helped you when you were just a lost first year looking for the charms classroom. Then, as if he just had gotten down from his broom after a successful Quidditch match, James Potter met your eyes briefly with a smirk, his eyes darting to his side as he pointed in your way with his head, Remus Lupin waving in your way before he got pushed from the back, your eyes quickly following the hands still close Remus’ back, following the pattern of the ridiculous ugly sweater he wore, his smirk melting into a soft smile as he faltered next to you.

Sirius’ eyes followed your form, making sure he was actually seeing you there and it was not another dream, but not even his head could come up with the smile that adorned your lips. He wasn’t that powerful.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n”

You considered him, the flutter of your heart giving you the answer straight away, the warm feeling inside your chest contradicting every single word you had spoken the days before.

“Merry Christmas, Sirius.”

Skittles

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#winter in the shade #sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #regulus black #the marauders #marauders era fanfiction

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milks-writings · 3 years

Text

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ｡⋆♡° ✫

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ PAIRING: Kei Tsukishima x GN!Reader

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ WARNINGS: TEETH ROTTING FLUFF SAIDOFIXN

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ A/N: this is a special writing event!:D The fic is dictated to the person I got: @multifandom-addiction and I dearly hope that they like this fanfiction! Also thanks a lot for the person who organized this all @mizunetzu !!

I hope you all stay safe and have a nice christmas, and if you don’t celebrate it, I hope that you still have a few nice days of resting!!! <3

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Masterlist

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ Scenario: All it takes is four steps

If you could say it like that, four was your lucky number. Four years since you have met Tsukishima Kei, the now first year and part of a volleyball club, also the tallest which makes him the middle blocker of the mentioned club. Tsukishima Kei, the same boy you met in kindergarden the first time but unfortunately you never talked to him, only later in middle school. And that’s where the small fire between you started.

You adding the wood and him lightening it up with the flint n steel he got.

In other words, you broke the ice between you two, with beginning to talk to him.

“Hey Tsukki!” “Don’t call me like that” was probably the nicest answer you expected him to give you. “We should start to hang out!” With just continuing the conversation like nothing had happened between you, you hoped to get some spice between you two, and make him less salty than he was in the beginning, because something just told you that he was not as salty as everyone says.

“not in the mood” His hand reached out to grab the book that laid on his table, stuffing it into his backpack.

Tsukishima may have had an eye on you, but he would never admit that. “Come on! You don’t have any other friends anyway” as a middle student these words didn’t seem very harsh to you yet, but now as those words recalled in your mind, they were worse than you had them in your memories.

“If you are annoying I will leave” was the agreement of the blond male, which basically started your four year journey of your friendship. A little later, even Yamaguchi started to tag along with you guys.

Like the great three, but with a small love triangle twist. You liked Tsukishima, Tsukishima liked you and Yamaguchi knew about both. That’s when the air around the fire got thinner, making the fire almost go out again. But the few air input, that came here and there, sometimes about to safe the fires life and sometimes just to make the fire stronger again saved your relationship with Kei.

In other words, Yamaguchi held you two together.

Quite unbelievable was for the shy green haired boy though, when the middle blocker told him that he couldn’t confess to you, scared for rejection and feared of ending the friendship because of a few stronger feelings peaking whenever you got into his view.

And that’s when Yamaguchi’s dilemma started with you two.

He had made it into a quest for himself to make the platonic great three into the non-platonic great two + 1. And this all before Christmas, the cold season that could just easily make the fire go out with the snow and the coldness, rolled around.

Day for day, never did anything go like he wanted it to go. Once Tsukishima almost confessed to you, but that was only almost.

“Y/N we have to talk” he started off, sounding a little colder than usual which made your blood freeze in your veins, causing your breath to hitch in your throat that had already caught any words, leaving you speechless.

With small steps you followed the tall male, hoping that the slower you walked the less bad it would be. But that triggered something within his thoughts, making him rethink the paragraph he almost was about to study off the letter he had written to you. “You walk slower than usually” the words were colder than the night, yet there was still somewhere this small fire in his voice that made you heat up, and made your heart race.

Four. He took four steps forward, inching closer to you before he let out a sigh, leaving a small cloud of warm air in the cooler air. “Never mind.” His voice was slopping with disappointment, but that day your mind didn’t get that hint. Your mind was still filled with things that would never happen, scenarios that were only your imagination and words that were only thoughts. “See you tomorrow” Your actually calm and not mad respond took lots of weights off his shoulders, even leaving a small relieved smile behind. “Sure. See you tomorrow”

Only four words that had made you feel a little less stressed, and that assured you that everything was okay between you two.

Four words that saved your friendship from crumbling into small pieces of dirt, that can’t be light on to a fire, unlike good and dry wood.

But now it was the day. The 24th December, of course it was not only one day, but your day.

After days, weeks and almost months of playing out scenarios in your head, which had already become like a small cinema for free. Just with a bad movie, and an even worse ending. Yamaguchi managed to somehow get you out of your thoughts, trying to make them reality. Of course not the bad ones, only the good ones, he promised.

But somehow your mind didn’t want to accept it. So the first step was to make you feel more confident. With simple words. Like “He’s the nicest to you” “He actually cares about you.”

The second step to make you two confess, what Yamaguchi had already planned, was to make Tsukishima also more confident.

With also even more simple things, like “Y/N often makes you, and only you small presents.” or “Y/N often talks about you. And not in a bad way. Actually in a good way.” and that was it.

But perhaps that was what didn’t make you two confess. The lack of knowledge. The third step was to get you two into a room alone, but little did Yamaguchi know that the fourth step could be only done with him. So having you two in one room, and himself too, you three just say awkwardly there. “So should we open presents?” You asked the two, making the boys nod in agreement. But something didn’t lay well in the air, something was slowly suffocating you and your words, making you rather insecure than confident around Tsukishima. “Listen guys--” The green haired boy started, trying to catch your attention, but you two were already all over the presents, rather paying attention to the colorfull boxes than to Yamaguchi. “Hey you two--” with a small sigh following, he almost gave up. Almost messed up the fourth step. But the fourth step was easier than he thought, and you two thought. “You’re so blind to not see that you like each other” The small sentence caught you off guard, just like the blond haired male.

“Huh?”

“You’re stupid to not see that you like each other.” Yamaguchi repeated, getting up. “I will get some water” he excused himself, slight anxiety building up in his mind. But it was worth it. More than worth it.

The blondes eyes laid on you, almost staring holes into your face as the process in his mind went only slowly on. “I like you.” He finally got to spit out the fire that has built up in his throat, only waiting to get relieved by some air to stop the burning. “I like you too, Kei” you finally replied, after seconds of thinking if this had been a stupid dream or not.

But it was worth it that Yamaguchi had made you two confess.

Because it only took four steps to get you two together.

«𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞»

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ LOYAL PEEPS: @elianetsantana

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu!! scenario #x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima scenario #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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OH MY GOSH OKAY SINCE WE'RE DOING THE CHRISTMAS WRITING PARTY CAN U WRITE ONE FOR PASSCHENDAELE WHERE IT'S THE FIRST CHRISTMAS AFTER THE WAR OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT? OR OR OR THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE

Love the idea of the Christmas Truce and I forgot I actually had this one planned since the beginning! For those of you who don’t know, The Christmas Truce of 1914 was a true event that happened, where British and German soldiers left their trenches on Christmas Day and celebrated together in peace.

Get your tissues ready.

Also thank you to @janav21 for helping me with some German translations xx

T/W Mentions of war violence, death, the honest truth the deep down all humans are good, and the first seeds of what would later stem into PTSD

December 24, 1914

“Post for you, Lance Corporal Seavey.”

Through the darkness of the night, Christian raised his head from the side of the trench to look up at the man standing in front of him and holding out a brown paper wrapped package. With shivering hands in gloves that didn’t do much to keep in the heat, Christian reached up to take it from him, the men sharing stiff nods as thanks and acknowledgment before the man continued down the lines.

It was a particularly cold night and the ground was frozen with fresh fallen snow, stained red in places from battles and brown in places from upturned soil made from shells but the light flurries that fell through the silent night made it feel somewhat peaceful. Christian pulled at the string and opened his package, the first thing on the top being an old family photograph of his parents and his younger brother and younger sister and him from years earlier when they were small. He smiled warmly at the memory, missing them more than ever on Christmas Eve. Normally they would be sitting by their Christmas tree and singing carols and drinking warm mugs of tea around the fire but instead, he was sat all alone in frozen stiff soil trenches in the middle of Belgium. The next item was a letter tucked on top of a small bar of chocolate. Christian smiled at the gift and unwrapped the corner of it to take a bite.

The crack of the cold coca from his teeth seemed to nearly echo through the barren wasteland the British army found themselves in, but Christian smiled bashfully to himself as he let the sweet flavour melt in his mouth. As he ate his treat, he unfolded his letter from his mother to read her near weekly correspondence.

My Darling Christian,

Christmas is not the same without you. Anna and Daniel and I decorated the tree together last week and there was no one to put the star on top. Daniel took your job instead but he had to stand on a chair and nearly toppled right off! You would have had such a laugh with us. I couldn’t resist a year without at least giving you something small so I hope this chocolate bar suffices – we are not allowed to send anything larger. I hope next Christmas I will see you home again as I miss you terribly. The world over here seems so much darker without you around, my sunshine, but I am sure you are bringing your bright spirits wherever you go. Please write me and let me know how Christmas is celebrated in Belgium (although I know you are most likely already writing an essay for me!). Your weekly letters make me miss you more but they let me know that you are well and safe.

I love you, my sweet angel. Happy Christmas.

Mum xx

Christian sniffled and folded the letter to tuck it back into his inside breast pocket along with the photograph of his family. With one more bite of chocolate, he folded it back up and tucked it in his pack before letting his eyes close and his head rest back against the wall of the trench, light snowflakes falling against his face that took a while to melt with the chill that coated his pale skin. He would reply to his mother later as it was getting late, and the usual waiting game was sending Christian into a restful state.

It wasn’t long before a noise could be heard in the distance and a few of the British men quickly snapped to attention to see what was happening out in the darkness of No Mans Land. Christian sat up too, locking in on the soft tune that was drifting through the nighttime air. The words were incomprehensible but the tune was more than familiar.

“What the bloody hell is that?” one of the men whispered.

“It…It’s Silent Night, sir.” Christian answered quietly.

The higher ups turned to the Lance Corporal as if forgetting the young man could even speak. A small group had gathered in their section of the trenches, all the men bundled up in their jackets and gloves as they listened to the German soldiers singing Christmas carols from a few many yards away.

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!

Alles schläft, einsam wacht

Nur das traute, hochheilige Paar.

Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh,

Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh.

The British soldiers stood in silence as they listened, a few humming quietly to themselves as if afraid to make their presence aware to the enemy. Finally, one of the newer men sang first, his curly hair falling from under his cap and his glasses slightly fogged up from his warm breath through the cold night, joining right in along side the Germans,

Silent night, holy night!

Shepherds quake at the sight!

A few more men joined in, Christian included,

Glories stream from heaven afar;

Heavenly hosts sing Al-le-lu-ia!

And soon everyone was singing together in harmony,

Christ the Savior is born! / Christ, der Retter ist da!

By the final verse, both sides of the front lines were singing loudly together, their voices carrying across the vast expanse of fields and raising high into the night sky. Half in English and half in German, they sang in one choir,

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht! / Silent night, holy night

Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht / Son of God, oh, love's pure light

Lieb aus deinem göttlichen Mund, / Radiant beams from Thy holy face

Da uns schlägt die rettende Stund, / With the dawn of redeeming grace

Christ, in deiner Geburt, / Jesus, Lord at Thy birth

Christ, in deiner Geburt. / Jesus, Lord at Thy birth

When the song concluded, silence fell once again over the battlefields, the snow falling steadily around them. Christian smiled a little to himself at the momentary peace and tucked in for the night with his family photograph held right against his heart.

December 25, 1914

As the sun rose on Christmas morning, the British soldiers wished each other ‘Happy Christmas’ as they started their usual breakfasts or morning duties. It wasn’t long before one of the higher ups was ordering a rise to arms and Christian snatched up his rifle with the rest of the men to get into position.

“There’s a man over there.” the soldier said, peering through the viewfinder out across No Mans Land. “He’s holding his hands up in their trenches.”

The British cocked their rifles.

“Don’t fire!”

“He’s unarmed.”

Christian peeked up over the edge of the parapet and someone grabbed his shoulder to pull him back down to safety. He shrugged him off and leaned back up again, watching the German man walk shakily and slowly out of his trench and onto the fresh fallen snow of the battlefield, hands raised and any weaponry missing.

Christian was a man who had too much trust in people – at least up to the end of 1914 – and he didn’t think twice before dropping his rifle to the floor of the trench as well as his pack of grenades and bullets and stood up on the fire step with his own hands raised.

“Lace Corporal Seavey, what the hell are you doing?” his Lieutenant snapped.

“Must be a trap! You’re gonna get bloody well blown up!” another added from farther down.

But Christian climbed carefully out of the safety of the trench, his heart hammering in his chest as he touched the crisp white snow of the Belgian field and shakily got to his feet to face the enemy. A few more German men climbed out of their trenches followed by a few British and soon the two sides were meeting in the middle. It was silent except for the chilly winter wind that whistled across the land and the crunching of snow under military boots. Christian fell to a stop in front of the young man opposite him, the German’s face looking just as hesitant as Christian’s himself. He had the nicest grey eyes Christian had ever seen and he offered out his hand with a nervous smile tugging at his lips. Christian looked down at his outstretched hand before taking his handshake.

“My name is Christian.” he spoke slowly.

“My…name…is Heinrich.” the man replied.

“Pleased to meet you, Heinrich.” Christian said.

“Freut mich, dich kennenzulernen.”

The enemies seemed to group up and well wishes of Merry Christmas is English and German moulded as one and chatter rose across the Belgian fields. Handshakes were shared and photographs were taken and tensions felt like they had vanished. Christian pulled out his unfinished chocolate bar and offered a piece to his new friend.

Heinrich grinned and nodded, taking a small square with icy hands and a warm, “Danke.”

They ate together for a moment in calm silence, both a little shy but their bashful smiles were mirrored with near relief.

“Wie alt bist du??”

“Sorry?” Christian looked over at him.

“Uhm…” Heinrich thought for a moment before pointing to his watch and then gesturing up. “Years? You?”

“Oh. I am twenty-four.” Christian answered, showing the numbers with his fingers. “You?”

“Dreiundzwanzig.” Heinrich did the same, showing a two and then a three with his hand.

They shared smiles, cheeks a rosy red in the winter air and the tip of Christian’s nose was turning pink too. He offered Heinrich another piece of chocolate before taking out his photograph from his pocket and stepping closer to show him.

“This is my family.” Christian told him with pride and he pointed to each of his family members, “Father-”

“Vater.”

Christian glanced up at his new friend and nodded in agreement, “Yes. My Vater.” He continued on, “My Mother-”

“Mutter.”

“Sister and brother.”

“Schwester und bruder.”

“Yes. Anna and Daniel.”

“Anna?” Heinrich questioned, looking at Christian with wide shining eyes.

“Yes. My sister.”

Heinrich reached into his own jacket pocket and rummaged around a moment before pulling out his own photograph and held it out to show Christian, the blonde woman sitting graciously in the frame.

“Anneliese. Meine frau.”

“Frau? Wife.” Christian said. “Anna.”

“Yes, my…Anna.”

The young men shared excited grins and another piece of chocolate as a few men around them started singing more carols. Food rations were shared and a few drinks were poured and German and British men were arm in arm and singing loudly together. Heinrich and Christian stuck together, joining in for a few photographs taken by their officers and the group shared a good laugh when one of the German generals slipped on a path of ice and fell on his behind.

Soon, with the heat of the excitement and festivities, jackets were being tossed back into designated trenches and someone brought out a soccer ball, earning cheers from both sides. Small teams were divided up – British against Germans of course – and they played together most of the day, using jackets and canteens as makeshift goal posts as the watching soldiers stood in lines around their little made field. Christian pulled an impressive dive to catch the ball before he was scored on and loud excited cheers erupted from both sides at the move. Heinrich pulled him up from the snowy ground with an offered hand and Christian thanked him with a smile as he brushed himself off.

By the time the sun was starting to set, everyone was taken by surprise; the day had gone by so fast. Newly formed friendship groups said their goodbyes and Christian and Heinrich shared a friendly embrace as well.

“Happy Christmas.”

“Fröhe Weihnachten.” Heinrich held out a ration of cigarettes towards him with a friendly smile. “For…the schokolade.”

Christian didn’t smoke but the gesture was beautiful and he took the small pack within their final handshake, “Thank you.”

“Hope…you see…your Anna soon.” Heinrich spoke slowly through his broken English.

“You too.” Christian said as they dropped hands.

They shared one final nod, as if trying to piece together the incredible goings on of that day and the fact that they had just wholeheartedly trusted the enemy. Both sides were bordering on treason after spending such a day together but they returned to their trenches without another word or a single shot fired. Christian got himself settled with the sun setting and leaving the trenches in darkness, feeling more at peace than he had in a while. He was too tired to write to his mother that night, fading into a sleep stemmed from exhaustion from the day’s unique festivities. Even still, everyone was wondering what the next day would hold and if the truce was a turning point for the beginning of the end of the war.

With daybreak came another attempt of peace, and Christian found himself beaming with excitement as Heinrich and a few German men were making their way over the battlefield again after breakfast. Christian was stood beside the British Lieutenant-Colonel as they had their rifles at the ready out of habit but Christian didn’t even have his finger on the trigger.

One of the German officers who was walking over spoke first from the halfway mark between their front lines, “You still got the armistice?”

Christian started to stand up to join them but the ringing of a single shot rang through the barren fields before he could move. He watched as Heinrich fell backwards, shot right through the head until his blood was staining the fresh white snow and his grey eyes staring lifeless into the sky. The cold face of the British Lieutenant-Colonel was unphased as they were propelled into another battle by that single shot.

Another battle where they were forced to kill those they just celebrated with a mere day before, with whom each side shared stories and photographs and treats. Now, both sides were forced back into the usual way of the war under orders of their stern officers who claimed the only way to win was to gain their ground. Christian sat alone that night, a blank parchment on one knee, the pack of German cigarettes on his other, and the vision of Heinrich’s lifeless eyes in his mind. He sat there for nearly an hour trying to figure out what to say to his mother, only getting as far as her name scribbled shakily in the top left corner.

Christian didn’t smoke but that night he pulled one of the cigarettes from the German ration and borrowed a light from another soldier and he let himself sit against the side of the trench and mourn the loss of a friend. He felt guilty and shameful and disgusted with himself and with the war and with the concept of even being there at all, how each time he pulled the trigger he was killing one of his momentary friends. Good men who were friends and brothers and sons and husbands.

Christian couldn’t get himself to return a letter to his mother. He no longer felt like his mother’s angel that she called him so often. And he never would be again.

#✉#daniel seavey #christian seavey #ww1 #christmas truce #why dont we #why dont we imagines #christmas writing party 2020

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svtausinapocket · 4 years

Text

Snapshoot | Kim Mingyu

Chapter 1: The Wizard Next Door

Pairing: Y/N (Female) x Mingyu

Chapters: 1/3 Words: 3,6k+

Alternative Universe: Hogwarts!AU, MagicalWorld!AU, Slytherin!Y/N, Gryffindor!Mingyu, Photographer!Mingyu, Cop!Y/N, Friends to ennemies to lovers.

Scenario: When you discovered your neighbor was a wizard as well, you couldn’t help but feel excited to go to Hogwarts with him. Unfortunately teenagers are stupid and somehow things won’t go as expected. But sometimes life gives you a chance to look back at your past mistakes, even if a murder is involved with your former crush as its only witness.

Warnings: Smutty (coming), Violence (murder, crime scene, fights), and that’s all. There’s links on selected words to help you understands magical words if you forgot them ;) You can read this fic if you’re not a harry potter fan!

A/N: English is not my first language so I feel kinda shy tbh. Anyway that’s the first chapter of a fic I started to write a while ago. I’m pretty sure almost no one will read it but still, I feel like I have to finish it!

Wattpad | Archive of our own (not yet)

***unedited***

Sitting alone at your table, you moved your eyes from your potion book to the red and gold robes before you. The N.E.W.T.s were arriving quickly and everything you could do to fight your stress was to study, even when eating in the great hall. All around you people were moving like shadows, barely noticeable for your unfocused eyes... Nothing attracted your attention. Nothing except for a Gryffindor guy sat meters away from you.

He was surrounded by his kinds like the eye of a cyclone made of red and goldish birds.

If there had to be a leader it would be him, you thought. Like the alfa of a pack but with an irregular chick on his side. Indeed, with time you’d seen a lot of random girls sitting next to him. First it was Mina, soon replaced by Seulgi and her twin sister. Then Mina again, followed by Alexandra, Prya, Sana, some other boring young witches and finally Mina again. But if he was now free from any of those girls, it didn’t seem like his role in the group was lessened.

Peacefully watching at how his eyes were gleaming of happiness when he interacted with his crew, you wondered when it happened. When did you both start to be strangers to each other? Because watching at the scene and realizing you were out of this, of his world, you felt like a voyeur out of their right.

Actually, you knew him since you were both children. Indeed, his parents had moved next door when you were six, and for many years you’d played together in the corridor or sometimes in the building courtyard during summer vacations. But when he had been sorted to Gryffindor by this stupid hat it was still a shock.

The boy you knew wasn’t made for this house. Since elementary school Mingyu had always been vicious and ambitious. In primary school, he had already used his magic to steal his classmates’ stuff, or just to bother them, even if he didn’t know yet he had magic.

At least you could say it’s what had helped you set your thinking.

In fact, he didn’t really know what he was doing but, on your side, you could clearly understand what was happening. He was a wizard. Just like you and your parents. Except that unlike the three of you he was a Muggle-born wizard.

You’d told your family about it, about all your suspicions. But no one had believed the words of a young kid. To people, Mingyu was just an unbearable kid with a tricky brain _which indeed, was also true.

And as if fate had decided to step in, one day your parents invited his family for dinner. And then the little Mingyu had seen. His big eyes had been sparkling with magic in front of the moving spoon in the kitchen. His mouth smiling once the little boy had faced the remembrall in your room.

—

“I want to see a dragon.” he used to say.

“What kind?” You’d asked. Sat on your room’s floor you’d watched him talk with passion about animals and how we thought it was his destiny to take a picture of a real dragon and show the word they were real.

“Are they ...different sorts of dragons?” He had slowed down.

“Sure.” You had told him, knowing perfectly what you’d read in your father’s book. “There’s different kinds of dogs. So why would it be different for dragons?”

“I don’t know. What dragon do you think would be the best in a picture?” He’d asked, his energy progressively cleared up by your question. Not thinking about it twice you’d chosen the only one you remembered.

“The Common Welsh Green I guess.” The little boy had stopped to sit in front of you, pouting.

“But it’s common isn’t it?”

“Maybe. But they’re slower so it’s easier to photograph them. Plus, one of those made London burn.”

It was only the childish dream of a guy who would soon realize how accurate were your words while all his school friends will believe that dragons are a legend.

—

And so finally, your parents had believed you. As the true kindhearted Hufflepuffs and protective wizards they were, it took them time to decide what to do with the young neighbor. Taking him under their wings was not even a question. But how to do it was much more complicated. In fact, Muggles were not famous for being open minded and flexible when their life was about to change. So, they just decided to use your friendship as an excuse to never tell his relatives before Hogwarts letter, and just show him what the magical world had to offer.

From that point, things became quite fun. After telling him what was happening, they showed him books, magical tricks and brought the young wizard with you to Diagon Alley. All of this just in order for him to not be lost when he would have to bring his parents there, and also know what to do when he will have to officially join the magical world you were raised into.

His parents actually took the news pretty well, and to be honest, it was mostly because your family made a big deal about helping the young boy in his coming out.

That’s why you were soon together in the Hogwarts express, on the road to becoming two proud wizards. You were happy.

Things could only go well. Right?

—

To everyone's surprise he was sorted to Gryffindor, and you were sent to Slytherin. It was a real shock; one nobody had anticipated. And while he was led to the Gryffindor Tower, you were walking down the stairs to reach Slytherin Dungeon. He was in the light and you were in the dark, becoming the black sheep of your Gryffindor and Hufflepuff family.

But something happened. Or rather than something, nothing happened. He soon had new friends and you had yours. And it appeared that none of you told people that you were neighbors and more than that; childhood friends.

It was like a silent agreement between both of you.

You never spoke to each other in the presence of your respective friends. Because more than being in the rival houses, it would have been a shame. Or at least your teenagers’ stupid brains thought so.

Indeed, he soon started to become really popular among your classmates due to his charms and his ability to socialize easily. Plus, his fuckboy image didn’t match with the calm and intellectual one you shared with your own friends. Maybe he had his reasons to avoid you, but you clearly had yours. You had to prove to people- and to yourself, that being a Slytherin in a red and yellow family didn’t make you less competent or valuable. That, on the contrary, it was making you a better person. You wanted to be the best and you worked for it.

Every day you studied so hard to be the number one. To be able to achieve your career dreams despite your S label. People had to think you were calm, studious and perfect. To perceive you as the type of girl who doesn’t have time for troublemakers like Mingyu and his crew.

So, after hearing how Chunhee and Seokmin had criticized him and his band, you’d decided to just stay silent about your relationship with Mingyu.

And he did the same.

—

But it was strange and really uncomfortable.

One day you were in the muggle train, heading to your hometown for the first time since the start of the school year. Everything was peaceful and calm. Christmas snow was falling on the London suburb, while Mingyu’s head had fallen on your shoulder. And just like the railroad, his breath was slow, relaxing and cadenced. He was taking a nap.

You had just supposed he had had fun with his friends the night before, so you didn’t say anything, reading on your own, but each time a person walked between the train sits, you were feeling your stomach twist. That’s when the lungs in your torso sighed loudly to expel the stress from your body.

“What?” Asked Mingyu, not as asleep as you thought.

During a second you stood silent before speaking. You felt how dry your throat was due to anticipation.

“Are you not afraid that someone could see us like that?”

“Afraid?” He started without opening his eyes. “Please Y/N, the train is almost empty. Plus, we’re in a muggle train, far away from the city, so we won’t run into one of our classmates.”

“Please understand me, but if a classmate sees us, I don’t want my image to be riddled by a slug, who salivate in his sleep.” You laughed.

“F*ck off. I know I’m not drooling. How could someone so perfect like me salivate in his sleep?”

Your snigger made his head move a bit.

As soon as this conversation had started, a silence had fallen on it. One of the unstable lights on your right switched on just to illuminate his delicate face. You were taking your time to look at him, at the black hair falling on his forehead, at those cute pink lips half-open, while your heart was pounding loudly against your rib cage.

“And in the worst case. Just imagine someone sees us. Who cares?”

You didn’t agree, because you didn’t believe his words, and for good reasons.

—

To be honest you perfectly remember when you became full strangers. You couldn’t forget the day you both decided to stop this farce.

“Y/N, is there something between you two?” Had suddenly asked Seokmin. You were sitting on the corridor floor, your eyes focused on your last arithmancy lesson. Last month you’d had bad grades at it and you absolutely wanted to improve so you could be ready for the O.W.L.s. Some drops were falling from your wet hair to the paper in front of you, drawing ink on the white sheet.

“Stop studying” your friend laughed while sitting next to you. “We just won our quidditch match against Gryffindor, you should be celebrating, not studying.”

“I know I know” you smiled while closing the lesson and contracting your fingers around it. “I was waiting for you. I can’t celebrate without you and Chunhee.” Even after taking a shower, you could still feel a mix of sweat and water on your skin. Your legs and arms were already aching due to the game. You were obviously tired. Indeed, the match became hard since Gryffindor had placed Mingyu as the Seeker and you had to admit he wasn’t that bad for a newbie.

“So. Tell me Y/N. Is there something between you two?” You frowned your eyebrows.

“Sorry, what?”

“You and Mingyu.”

At his words you felt your heart clench. Yes, there used to be something. Not that you would admit it of course, but still, it had been months since you two spoke to each other and you started to feel like he was avoiding you for no reasons. Maybe he’d grown tired of you. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. You fist tightened around the papers in your hand.

“No, of course not” you lied. It had become a habit to avoid the truth about it, and five years of lying had started to make it feel like it was nothing when it truly was a weight on your shoulders. Indeed, you were now fifteen, and thinking back at your arrival in Hogwarts you’d started to wonder if all of this wasn’t too extreme or ridiculous.

“Why?”

“I saw the face you made up there, when he was accidently hit by the Quaffle. I’m glad Steph caught it right in time and sent it back to you, because I swear you had the face of a girl ready to ask him if he was okay. Plus… when we danced together during the Yule ball, he kind of… stared at me weirdly you know.”

Listening to him, you’d blushed. Seokmin and Chunhee knew you probably better than anyone, and it made sense for them to realize something was off. Plus, this time, you were guilty and thinking about it just made the situation even more complicated.

One hour ago, you were still on your broom, flying in the air as easily as a bird would, just to make your Chaser job. For the first time in your quidditch experience the match was really tight. Your team and the Gryffindor one were already fighting for one hour under pouring rain. The seekers were flying hard to catch the Golden Snitch and you had felt how your classmates started to get tired of playing. Some already had had accidents and had left the game to be welcomed at the infirmary. Each new minute was making the match even more risky. And as if it was supposed to arrive, you’d made a mistake.

You hadn’t looked around you to make sure the area was safe and rushing to catch the soaked Quaffle you only succeeded in blocking Mingyu’s path. The ball having no effect on your gloves, you’d felt it slip from your grasp before the young seeker was hit in the face. He’d lost his balance, hitting your ribcage with his broomstick. But if you’d succeeded into staying stable, he hadn’t. You’d watched him being kicked out of the Golden Snitch chase with bitterness on your tongue.

It wasn’t properly speaking, a foul, but it wasn’t fair at all. Before you had been able do something stupid for your team, Steph had sent you the Quaffle again and you were back in the game.

Your team won. You knew it was because of this incident and hitting the wall with your head you cursed at yourself.

“Actually I-”

“Oh my God.” Stopped Seokmin. His eyes were no longer staring at you. “Speaking of the devil.”

You saw Mingyu arrive in the corner of your eye, and both of you immediately stood up. You’d never seen him like this before. He was fuming, his dark eyes staring at you with enough anger to make a mandragore shut up with only a glare. You felt your stomach twist.

“Okay, you know what I’ll just let you alone. I’ll wait outside with Chunhee.” Started Seokmin. “Please, don’t get killed okay?” Before you could say something, your friend had disappeared. What a chicken.

Suddenly your environment became hostile. The corridor you were in was too long, too dark and felt too isolated. The pouring rain outside the arena was louder with each step he was taking. He still had his Gryffindor Quidditch shirt, but with a huge thunderclap hitting the sky, the red and gold didn’t seem welcoming anymore.

“Mingyu I…”

Arriving in front of you he smashed your arithmancy papers with his hand. The sheets then crashed on the floor.

“Mingyu what the hell is wrong with you?!” You started while squatting down to pick them up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with you!” He yelled. Somehow you heard people arriving in the corridor on your left but didn’t bother to look at them. Anger was creeping in your heart and you couldn’t be distracted from it. You were now looking straight into Mingyu’s eyes, yours mimicking the fire burning it his. “Did you seriously think it was fun to hit me with a Quaffle?!”

“Oh, please stop it! It’s not like I did it on purpose.” You rolled your eyes when he stepped closer.

“Really?! I’m not sure of that. You’re a Slytherin after all.”

His rather beautiful eyes were narrowed in some infuriating crescents. Mixed with his sly smile and an obvious excess of confidence, his aura was making you beside yourself. You swear all you wanted at that moment was to punch this stupid Gryffindor right in his beautiful face. One minute earlier you were about to apologize to your_ obviously, no longer friend, but the douchebag he’d become had ruined everything. Again.

Now deeply hurt by his words all you could feel was the raging flame waving in your heart.

“Okay that’s enough.” you stopped, offended. “Do you… seriously thought I did it just for my Slytherin team to win?!”

“Why not. That’s what a snake would do.”

You pushed him with all your strength. Adrenaline had gotten over you and now you felt even more energized than before the game. His back hit the wall behind him, a painful grin deforming his handsome features. He probably hadn’t expected you to react so violently.

As it seems he’d become more than a jerk; his popularity had turned him into a coward as well. All he could do was attack you with what he knew would make you wince, what would make your feelings scream and what would break your heart. Years of friendship spent together to use your weakest points against you in the end.

“You fucking idiot!” You said with a dark shadow surrounding your body. He was now only centimeters away from your green and silver clothes, and your finger was pointing his chest with too much strength for a simple accusation. “When did you became so stupid to think I would do something like that?! Especially to you.” Now you no longer cared, rather it would reveal something about your true feelings for him or not. Indeed, your eyes were tearing from a mix of anger and sadness, exposing you to this guy you once knew.

“And when did you become so cold hearted that your parents would be ashamed to have a Slytherin as their daughter?!” He answered back. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Your fist crushed his jaw with enough strength to break his bones. He let out a groan. But before you could do anything to analyze the ache in your phalanx, Mingyu had made a move. Seizing your chest, he tackled you to the ground, your ribs hitting the hard floor with too much intensity for the already painful bruise you got earlier from your quidditch altercation. You let out a scream while automatically grabbing your ribcage as a protection.

If you weren’t full of rage you would have noticed how his expression changed from animosity to perplexity. Your eyes would have been able to see how he’d suddenly understood you were hurt too by the Quaffle incident. But the fury you were only saw an opportunity to fight back. Because the distance he’d put between your bodies to see you from afar was giving you the chance to kick him with your right leg. And so did you.

His body rolled to the side, his arms crossed in front of his face as a defense mechanism. Now that you’d stood up, you were ready to hit him again when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Alright kids, it’s time to stop.” Calmly said a female voice on your left. Before understanding the situation, you had been grabbed from behind by your classmates and moved away from your former friend.

In her Quidditch Gryffindor clothes their captain had arrived to stop the mess you were doing. She was standing there, arms crossed and looking at how you were trying to escape the hands stopping you from exploding. When Mingyu got up again and approached you, she stepped in. Diana was smaller than him but the hand she put between you two was enough to stop the young wizard.

“Mingyu. Stop. It’s your first match as the Seeker. Don’t make me say it’s the last one.”

The captain had spoken. At her words he stopped dead and looked at her, turning his angry gaze to the petite girl.

“She attacked me first with the Quaffle.” He tried to defend himself.

“No, she didn’t. It was an accident. We were all tired, it was raining. Things like that happen.”

“But...”

“No.” Turning in your direction she apologized. “Sorry Y/N.” And with her last words you’d watched them leave, Mingyu angry aura emanating from him until he was out of view.

If you’d managed to calm yourself after this fight he hadn’t. And somewhat he had managed to make you be forbidden from playing official matches for 3 months while he was healing from that punch in the face you’d given him.

—

Thinking about it you realized it’s when you’d decided to end this stupid friendship. That’s when you started to officially avoid him, not caring if he’d ever wanted to approach you again.

☂

Lost in your thoughts you haven’t realized he was now watching you too. Mingyu might have felt your stare, even if you had lost yourself into nostalgia. And when your eyes finally met you were surprised to see his neutral expression. You probably had blushed but were praying for him to be too far to notice.

Watching your open book again you tried to focus on your lesson but failed, knowing he was still smiling at your moment of madness. So, giving up with fighting the shame you’d felt for being caught staring, you closed your book and left the great hall.

☂

[6 years later]

The picture in your hand was taken far from the crime scene, but you swear you could see it clearly. Your fingers were trembling around the piece of paper the guy of the shop had given you and the cop you’d become could still feel her heart beat heavily in her chest. Indeed, the more your eyes were observing the snapshot of this young muggle, the more you knew it was him. It was clearly his face half hidden by a curtain and a long coat. Everything from this beautiful ruffled hair to the large hand holding the camera smelled like him. This guy was only a reflection on a window next to this damn alley, but you could feel it in your bones. Kim Mingyu was here.

And if the journalist he’d become was near a crime scene hours before the most popular murder of the decade, there’s no way it could be a coincidence. Damn it! You finally had a lead to bring back to the Ministry of Magic.

Excitement rose in your heart and you tried to convince yourself it was because of the investigation. Because there’s no way a long-forgotten frenemy could make you feel that excited, right?

A smile enlightened on your face.

Right?

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almostxinnocent · 4 years

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“Society wants to believe it can identify evil people, or bad or harmful people, but it's not practical. There are no stereotypes.” ― Ted Bundy Anyone who knows me also knows that I am a huge fan of true crime. Even knowing that, it has taken me a long time to actually write about this, or maybe just fear at re-living it over again has held me back. I figure if I don’t do it now I never will. It would be easier to simply do this as just another story. So here we go. (Part One)When I was fourteen other girls were reading Teen Beat and I was reading True Crime novels about Ken Bernardo, Jeffrey Dahmer and other serial killers no young girl should know about. So when I stumbled across the address to actually write one of them it was no surprise that I jumped on the chance.

For the sake of privacy and my sanity we will call him Mr. E. A lot of people don’t even know about it but there is a place called J-pay where you can write to inmates and see if they respond. I wanted to ensure a response so I included a couple of pictures of myself. I was fifteen and throwing modesty aside, I thought I was pretty attractive. It had been a few weeks since I had sent my first message and I rushed home each day to see if there was a response. It had become a routine for me. I quickly logged into the website and saw that I actually had a response. I had only written one person and immediately I felt like a ten year old on Christmas morning. I clicked to open it and greedily read what was inside.

“I have to say for a young girl you are not only intelligent, but beautiful as well. I would be more than happy to answer your questions but if I am going to be nice to you, you need to be nice to me too. I have a couple questions of my own.”

I read down further, scrunched my face up at some of the more personal questions like “How often do you bath” or “What does your hair smell like before a good wash” . I knew he was highly intelligent, and I was sure he would smell bullshit from a mile away. I can’t say I wasn’t nervous but it was more nervous excitement. I was going to write my reply, but hesitation got the best of me. I turned the computer off and went to drown myself in another book. When I finally did sleep I was thrown into some pretty intense nightmares. I woke up tired from the lack of good sleep I had gotten and rolled over in bed. It wasn’t unusual to remember my dreams, but this time I would rather not have. All night I had dreams of being visited by Mr. E. They seemed so real that I actually decided I would not write back at all.

After a couple nights of not having any nightmares and scolding myself for being a sissy, I gathered enough courage to write back.

“Mr. E,I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to see your response, even if you do ask some pretty weird questions. To show you that I will be an honest pen-pal I will answer them but first I want to ask a couple of my own. Do you ever feel sorry for what you did to the family of your victims? I already know how you feel about the girls that you killed. There are so many books written about you! What is it like not being able to be free anymore? What is your day to day like there? Do you get a lot of fan mail? Do you think I am a fan??”

I went down his list and answered all his questions, providing as little detail as possible. It did give me the creeps to think about a real life serial killer who tortured girls to death so close to my age having knowledge of my personal bathing habits and odors. Sometimes knowing someone is locked up isn’t enough, it’s wondering what they do with their time that can be unsettling. We had been writing for about four months before things started to get even more uncomfortable. Mr. E had always given me the answers that I wanted, although I tended to not ask any graphic details about his murders. Then suddenly he started to give me details on his own, some of them that I had never actually read in any of his books. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t more jumpy than usual or that the contents of his letters were not giving me nightmares. The truth was I had been plagued by them, but I just could not stop responding.

I knew if my mother ever found out what I was doing she would probably take away my computer and everything else that provided contact with anyone in the world, and I think that was putting me on edge as well.I wanted to believe that Mr. E trusted me, but I knew his mail was being read. Since the details were just descriptions of his killing rituals and habits I guess it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was revealing where more bodies were or anything. His personal questions started to became more intrusive too. The minute I started to feel too uncomfortable, or there was a lapse of response, I would get a kinder letter of assurance which motivated me to keep writing. I was playing a game of cat and mouse but was starting to feel I was more the mouse than cat.

Finally, in one of our conversations he asked for my address. He told me that he had a few drawings and poetry he wanted me to have. In this message he especially made it a point to compliment me and thank me for keeping him company. He told me about how most of the writing he received was from distasteful and rude women (I assumed grown-ups) that he would never consider responding to. I have to admit I was flattered and less uncomfortable but looking back I see I was being manipulated. I gave him my address. I figured being locked up forever would prevent anything bad from happening to me. I was safe, so why not? It was only a few days later that a small package arrived, and I ran upstairs before my mother could see what I had. I opened it carefully, and my heart was pounding so loud it seemed like it was coming from across the room. I almost lost my breath to be completely honest. Here I was, a teenager getting mail from a notorious serial killer! Who would believe it!

Inside the package contained two poems, with what looked like dried blood smeared across them. A lock of hair tied with what looked like some kind of frayed rope and three drawings. One of the poems went as follows; “Her lips looked like two berries. I knew I had to touch but my touch was so heavy off her face the lips I plucked I kissed the bloody space where they once used to be a beautiful and gaping hole but then she tried to flee I wrapped her up in ribbons I tied them like a bow Her mouth kept making noises So the hole I had to sew” I am sure you get the picture. In my young mind I wasn’t sure what to think, but I guess I thought it was to be expected. I wondered if there were any rules about what you could send someone so young, but then again I had never mentioned my age. I had only sent photos since you had to be eighteen to use the website. We had made an agreement that when his arrived, I would send my own. That night my nightmares were so intense that I woke sweating and feeling trapped. The next morning I cut off a lock of my own hair, pricked my finger and smeared some blood across it. I can’t explain how or why but Mr. E had some kind of hold on me. At this point you might be wondering what kind of laws they had back then about what you could or could not send into prison. I didn’t realize that we lived in a world with such liberties or restrictions. I was in a state of being embarrassed about my nightmares and thinking I was some hot shot getting details nobody else had gotten. Two more weeks went by and I did not hear from my pen-pal. I was confused and constantly checking my inbox. I wondered if what I sent had gotten him into some kind of trouble, but was more worried my mom might find out if someone from the prison contacted us. Then a week or so later, another box appeared and I once again ran upstairs to open it. I was lucky that the mail was there when I came home from school. I did not want to have to deal with a confrontation with my mom about strange boxes at our front door. I opened the box and was immediately confused. What I saw put goosebumps all over my body, not just my arms. It was almost painful. There was only a letter, and the box was too big for just a letter. That was strange enough. The letter was short itself was short. “I hope you are as excited as I am. It won’t be long now.” The more I thought about it, the less scared I was. I was actually angry. I felt like I had been betrayed. Then I realized how ridiculous that was. Why would I expect honesty from a serial killer? I bet this was his new way of getting his kicks now that he was locked up. I went to my computer and was ready to write a bunch of insults but when I got to the web page it would not load. That happened a lot, so I decided to just cut my losses and move on. I was embarrassed that I had been such an easy target, so even weeks later I never told my friends and obviously not my mother.One night I was out with my best friend and we went to our favorite spot, the playground. Yeah, I know. Juvenile, but it was the best place at night because it was private and nobody bothered you. After the usual talk about boys at school, and general gossip we decided it was time to head home. My mother was almost always gone on the weekends, and it happened to be the weekend my little brother and sister weren’t at home with me either. I tried to convince Lilly to spend the night but she said her dad would freak out since she basically spent every weekend at my house anyways. This meant flicking through television channels until I got frustrated enough to read a book and then go to sleep.My walk back home was short but it seemed like the perfect time for my mind to start thinking about Mr. E. It bothered me that I was so foolish and even though I knew I had nothing to be scared of I still felt a little jumpy when I was turning the corner onto my street. I finally got home and shut and locked the door and let out a deep sigh. It felt like I had been holding my breath. I had to laugh at myself as I walked upstairs to start a boring routine of spending a Saturday night alone. My little yorkie Koby was running around my legs wagging his stub tail excitedly. I picked him up and opened my bedroom door. “Hello pal, I told you it wouldn’t be much longer.” I felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time but I could not move. It felt like the entire room tilted. I stood there trying to process what was happening. He made no attempt to move from the bed. He was holding one of my stuffed animals in his hands. I kept telling myself this wasn’t real, it was another dream. This wasn’t him. This was not happening. This wasn’t him. The voice inside my head became more frantic and I put my hands on both my ears. I felt like I was losing my mind because there could not possibly be a man sitting on my bed, holding my stuffed animal. “Don’t be upset, I know I’m not who you are looking for but I promise I can give you much more than some man stuck in a cell could anyway. We have so much to talk about. I knew you were the one when you sent that hair back to me. I said to myself, here is a girl who isn’t afraid to do things out of the ordinary.” His voice was vibrating though me. I knew my only way to get out of this would be to either do what he said, or make him think I would. At the same time that thought was going through my head I also realized there was no way I was going to talk my way out of this. This wasn’t Mr. E, and this wasn’t a nightmare. I could tell this man was very tall from the height of him simply sitting there. His black hair was straight. He looked ordinary. He didn’t look like a monster at all. “How?....” I barely said the words as if speaking too loud might cause him to do something. “Well, I could insult your intelligence for not making sure the website you were using was actually the real website, but most of you young ones usually don’t bother. Let’s just say you were never writing to who you thought you were and start fresh.” All the terrible details from his letter came back to me. The way he stalked the girls, kidnapped them and then held for days while they were tortured. Like dolls, he played with them until they were no longer breathing.

“I thought I could trust you.” I whispered, still frozen in my place. I could attempt to run but he would just catch me on the stairs as I tried to go down. There wasn’t any feasible way to get away.

“Oh you can trust me. I never lied to you did I? Now come over here and sit on my lap and I will tell you all the fun things we will do together. I know you like the park, did you want to go back and swing on the swings again? You looked so fresh with your skirt flying up your legs.”

I shook my head and back into my doorway which was at the exact moment that he lunged at me. The fact that he had been watching me made me feel violated enough. I didn’t even bother to take time to think about how long he had been watching me but now assumed it was from the moment I sent him my actual address.

I let out a startled yelp as we both landed on the ground. He was quick and before I knew it he had my arms over my head was straddling me. He leaned down for a kiss but I kept twisting my head back and forth with tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t let him kiss me, please.” I begged God inside my mind to make it go away.

The next thing I knew he slapped me so hard across my face that I was seeing everything in two’s with blurred lines. I was no longer frantically twisting, but slowly going back and forth, still reeling from the hand that had rocked me. I was so dazed I could barely feel his mouth drooling on mine until he sharply bit down on my lip. It was so hard I came out of my daze screaming as loudly as I could before he clamped his hand over my lips and shook his head.

“There will be plenty of time for that.”

#serial killers #writing #short stories #horror #scary #true crime #true crime stories #goosebumps #stalkers #teenage #nightmare #nightmares #jeffrey dahmer #ted bundy #paul bernardo #kidnapping #scary stories #horror stories

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tookishcombeferre · 3 years

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Klaus Fanfic: “A Tether”

I wrote a self indulgent thing for the Klaus 2019 fandom. Klaus is a Christmas movie. I’m trying to be sensitive and not post too much Christmas stuff.

But, I really like this movie, and it was an Oscar nom. The art is phenomenal, and I really like the characters.

That being said, obvs you don’t have to read it.

This is sort of a self projection fic? I wrote about Alva reflecting on the Spanish Flu of 1918 in a teacher’s point of view because I am burnt the fuck out.

“I haven’t heard from Jimmy Krum in 2 weeks. I’m worried. He said in his last letter that his family wasn’t doing well. He was trying to help his son apply for some kind of boarding school program in the city that I recommended last year.” Alva ran a hand across her face as she spoke to herself pacing across the floor of the post office attic. “Although, I can’t remember if he said they might wait until he turned 11 next year or not to send him out.”

“And you probably won’t hear from him until I can safely get out there again. I won’t let you go out. You’ve only just recovered.” Jesper opened the hatch to the attic and stuck his head through. “Go rest.”

“Jesper you know I can’t. I’ve been cooped up for so ...” Alva bit back a cough. “And you’re one to talk!”

“Nice save. Really, you are so convincing. I’ve been fever and cough free for a week. You on the other hand ...” He sat next to her, pulled her close, and kissed her temple. “Need to stop worrying. Everyone is fine. You sent enough homework with me to them, before we all boarded up, for two years. I promise.”

Alva sighed, and she supposed he was right. But, it didn’t stop her worrying. Despite the phone being a relatively old invention, most families in Smeerensberg didn’t own one. She couldn’t call and check in on kids the way she’d like to. Sure, some of the more well to do families had a phone, and she made good use of theirs to call those she could call. Jesper had to remind her to slow down often, especially in those first months of the pandemic, when they were still debating boarding up.

The town eventually chose to shut down after Jesper could no longer deliver the mail. He’d only stopped his deliveries when his own children got sick. This had been in late October.

The kids had gotten the flu, somehow, despite all their precautions. Then, for Alva, it seemed that everything really was over. She and Jesper were up at all hours of the night comforting their children. Alva had never seen Jesper cry so hard as she did when he thought he was alone on the phone with his own father. Jesper’s father was lucky enough to be spared the worst of the illness, and he was in sound enough headspace to listen to his son’s terrified sobbing for nearly an hour before Alva finally stepped in. She had listened to him cry begging for the illness to take him instead of his children, and Alva simply cried with him. There wasn’t much else they could do besides try to nurse their children as best they could and cling to one another in desperation.

In about two weeks, the children had recovered enough that they felt safe sending them to live with Espen Krum. Epen’s son had just recovered from the illness and war wounds, and Espen was more than happy to take in two young children that would cheer his son up for sure. Alva remembered how the thought of the two kids living there for awhile made Jesper smile. They both recalled how Jesper mailed the love letters back and forth between young Broderick Krum, the first toy recipient, and Greta Ellingbow during his time in The Great War.

Alva couldn’t help but be thankful that they’d sent the children away before they had the opportunity to see their father in the worst throws of the illness. Alva knew the illness preyed on healthy people almost more than those who had reasons for complications. She shuddered at the images of Jesper’s thrashing as he cried for his father, for her, and for Klaus. He begged her forgiveness as he sat trapped in the memory of all those Christmas Eve’s ago. She stayed with him as he begged Klaus’ understanding, promised he’d changed, and pleaded with her to still love him despite it all. Gone was the loving goofiness of the man who tucked their children in with jokes about stamps and letters. In its place, her strong husband shook with terror, and his fears of abandonment were laid bare before her. It was two weeks of caring for Jesper, and reassuring their children, before Jesper finally recovered enough for her to be satisfied.

It was only then, when she felt certain of his recovery, that her body finally succumbed to the illness. She had little recollection of the two weeks she was tended to by her husband, but he’d assured her that she hadn’t said anything too damning, and on the whole, she was more compliant than when she was healthy. He’d called the children faithfully each night, and he remained by her side all the other moments of the day. He rested with her, and he kept her cool. She still remembered just days ago, in the very first days of December, when she finally woke up and saw his face.

His eyes had sparkled with tears as he looked at her and whispered, “I knew you could do it.”

“Alva? Yoo-hoo?” Jesper waved a hand in front of her face.

Alva blinked herself back to the present moment.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Lydia and Willem. It’ll be good to have the kids back before the holiday.” Alva leaned into Jesper’s shoulder.

He hummed his agreement. “Yes. Oh! Speaking of which. I have a surprise.”

Jesper helped his wife to her feet and guided her down the ladder and into their living room.

“Surprise!” He placed his chin on her shoulder. “I decorated it while you were sleeping.”

Alva smiled. It was far simpler than most years. The four stockings were hanging on the fire place. The tree was wrapped in a small amount of garland and maybe half of their ornaments were put up. She noticed the cookie plate already waiting with two glasses set out for the annual appearance.

Alva turned and stared at Jesper. “I sometimes wish he was still here. I have so many questions.”

Jesper hummed and pulled her close.

“As do I,” he said in a soft voice.

The two of them stood and surveyed the scene in silence for a few moments. Jesper placed his hands on Alva’s shoulders when they tensed suddenly.

“What is it? If you’re worried about Lydia, I just got word from Espen Krum that she’s had no complications. And, Willem has slept through the night soundly without bothering anybody for the last week.” Jesper reassured. “They’re doing fine. Also, we still do have a phone. I’ll let you pick 3 people to call as a treat. It is St. Nick’s Day after all.”

She blinked at him before face planting into his chest.

“I feel so useless.” She sobbed into his chest.

“Now, why would you think that? You’ve done so much for me, for the kids, and for your students. All through October, you taught every damn day, and made all those stupid work packets to last them until we could go back safe. You gave them book lists. You told them to call you if they had phones and were stuck. You even answered most calls until our own kids got sick. Alva,” he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “What more can you do?”

“I-I ... I don’t know.” She sobbed as she fell further into his chest. “I don’t know. But, it’s so hard. I can’t let it go back to the way it was before when the kids here could barely speak and poor Jimmy Krum was 13 and couldn’t write his own name. I can’t let that happen. What if they forget everything?”

“It won’t. You know why?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed her side to side. “Because, you’re the best damn teacher this place has ever seen. You took kids who could barely speak and taught them to be kind, to think for themselves, to report the misdeeds of their parents, and to stand up for themselves. So what, they forget how to write the letter “a?” Or so what, Heather’s daughter still mixes up 0 and 8 like her mom did on her return address most of the time she was a kid? Those are all things that can be retaught. But, you’ve got heart again, now. You’ll make it work.”

Alva felt a fresh wave of tears bring her to her knees. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just ... I want to stop worrying, but I can’t. I want it to be over, Jesper. I want it to be over. I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Jesper knelt next to her. “Do you want me to hold you or will that make it worse?”

“Hold me?” Alva reached out to him.

They sat there on the floor for a long time as Alva clung to Jesper and cried. Jesper just rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay in the end, but he recognized that it sucked right now. He reminded her she had every right to be sad and stressed, and he let her cry. He told her that she’d carried the weight of their family and town for too long. She had laughed and said they both had, and they both cried. They cried because the house was empty of the two people they loved most apart from each other. They cried because they’d never had the chance to mourn the moment they each thought one almost lost the other.

For, they knew, they would fade into the dark abyss of depression without one acting as the rope to tether the other from being lost in the icy sea.

Eventually, they rose on creaking limbs to sit in their chairs by the window. The two of them cast long glances at the snow outside.

“Do you think he knows? Or will I have to tell him?” Jesper’s voice was quiet and somber, in ways it so rarely was. “I don’t want to tell him that I almost lost you.”

“I don’t know, Jesper. But, something tells me that, somehow, he knows.” Alva patted his hand.

He nodded. “I was thinking that next week I would send for the kids and reopen the post office. Mail for Klaus is likely pretty backed up.”

Alva hummed her acknowledgement. “I think that would be a wise idea. Thank you for waiting that long. I know it’s hard for you.”

“I just ... I’m nervous. But, not about being out there. I just ... I never want you out of my sight again.” He clasped her hand tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

He laughed lightly despite everything. “Good thing I actually want you around then.”

He stood, and they held each other for a moment before sharing a chaste kiss.

The two of them walked to their room, and they nestled down together in each other’s embrace. Tomorrow would find them still snuggled together as the rays of dawn poked through the window.

*******************The End **************************

Some notes on my thoughts about the timeline of events leading up to this/other weird headcanons.

I kind of assumed the movie was set in late 1890ish (based on fashion and some of the tech people had - such as the type of boat, the lack of whaling, and the items on Father Johanssen’s desk - I thought I saw some kind of phone which would have put the film at at least 1876).

Also, women’s fraternities began forming in the late 1860s-1870s. Considering Alva is a graduate of a university of some sort, we can infer that she would have gone to school during a time in which it was at least somewhat more normal to see women being educated. My sorority was founded in 1870 and we’re one of the oldest.

I would assume Alva is about 23-25 during the film considering she probs would have graduated at like 20ish. I thought she said she’d been there for like 3 years or so. So, I kind of assumed she’d graduated in mid to late 1890s and took her job in 1895 (20) and 3 (23) years later wanted to head out.

I also head canon that Alva was a member of the Sami tribe and left on less than great terms to go to the city to be educated. This is why she took the job in Smeerensberg in the first place. The Sami are pretty isolated from the feud and don’t really seem to know about it (to our knowledge). So, it would make sense that she might want to come home and patch things up by teaching nearby. It would also help to explain why she speaks and is able to translate Sami.

The only thing that kills this theory is the lack of cars. I suppose, since, those were invented in 1886? But, cars didn’t fully replace horses until 1907. Also, I’m pretty sure Smeerensberg is exempt from the car rule anyway.

Based on my weird digging into accurate time frames for the movie, I assumed the first Christmas was around 1898. That being said this takes place approximately 20ish years after my thoughts on when the film took place. The fic is set during the height of the Spanish Flu of 1918.

Further timeline clarifications: Alva and Jesper dated for about 3 years. They were married in 1901 (26/29). They had their first child in 1905 (30/33), and they had their second in 1908 (32/35). Klaus died 1910 (34/37) (12 years after the first Christmas in 1898). The original children would be in their 20s-30s ish (I pegged most of them to be about 5 and the oldest at about 13). Therefore, some of the older ones have kids of their own. Jesper and Alva’s kids are 13 (Lydia) and 10(Willem). Alva is approx 43 and Jesper is 46.

#klaus 2019 #spanish flu #artists of the pandemic #christmas mention #Jesper #Alva #klaus #christmas movies #my fan fic #pip writes things #pip rambles #pip does life #special interest

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writinginstardust · 4 years

Text

Say Yes

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox-Montchristen-Windsor

Prompt: “I thought we weren’t doing gifts!”

Warnings: It’s a little smutty towards the beginning but not explicit

A/N: No one actually requested this prompt but I was looking through them and inspiration hit and I just had to write this.

Word Count: 1727

Christmas morning started the same as every other. Henry woke with Alex in his arms, face buried in his chest, snoring softly. That moment never lasted long, Alex seemingly sensing Henry waking up and rousing soon after, but Henry was determined to savour every second of it today. After today, things would be different. A bit, at least.

He'd thought a lot about how he wanted to do this over the last year. Nothing too dramatic or public would do he'd decided, but he wasn't sure quite how to do it for the longest time. It was cliched doing it on Christmas but since they'd agreed not to do presents this year - why, Henry couldn't remember - Henry had been inspired and come up with an idea to give them both a gift on the anniversary of when he'd made the decision. Alex couldn't be mad at him for breaking their pact for this.

Alex stirred in his arms, mumbling sleepily and nuzzling into Henry's neck. His heart stuttered at the action as always and he brought a hand up to run through Alex’s messy hair, tilting his head down to press a light kiss to his forehead as he slowly woke up. Eyelashes fluttered but refused to open as Alex shifted and pressed a kiss to Henry’s jaw, quickly following it with another, and another, and another as he blindly searched for Henry’s lips, smiling when he finally got there and kissed Henry properly.

His kisses were softer in the morning, sleep clinging to him and slowing his movements, connecting lightly and lingering wherever they landed. Henry loved it. He’d never thought he’d get to have anything like this, be allowed to feel this deeply and freely and have someone return it. He’d certainly never imagined he’d get to have this with Alex of all people and he wanted it forever. Hence Alex’s Christmas present.

“Mornin’ baby,” Alex mumbled sleepily against his lips.

“Good morning.”

“Wha’ time ‘s it?” Henry blindly reached for his phone on the nightstand to check.

“Half seven.”

“What time do we have to get up?” Alex asked, becoming a bit more coherent as his brain kicked into gear, though clearly not enough since he hadn’t twigged what day it was.

“Whenever you want, love. It’s Christmas. We don’t have to do anything.” Alex blinked up at him, the words taking a second to process, before realisation dawned. It was equal parts funny and adorable and Henry let out a little huff of laughter before kissing Alex quickly again.

“Well, merry Christmas then, I guess.” Alex was smiling now, his eyes bright and alert at last.

“Merry Chri-” Alex cut him off with a kiss, one with more purpose than all his previous ones, and Henry melted into it, hands gravitating towards his waist to hold him tight against his body.

“I know...we said...no gifts,” Alex murmured between the kisses he’d started leaving down Henry’s throat, his hand sliding lightly down the length of his body and making Henry’s breathing become more ragged every second. “But I’ve got you a little something. Would you like it now?” Alex’s hand paused at Henry’s pelvis, his knuckles brushing back and forth over soft pale skin as he waited for Henry’s answer.

“Is it really a present if you enjoy it as much as I do?” He asked with a teasing smirk that dropped from his face quickly as he let out a shuddering breath when Alex moved his hand closer to where he wanted it.

“It’s a loophole in our agreement. Do you want it or not?” He scowled up at the pedantic prince. He knew the answer of course, but now he wanted Henry to say it.

“Yes. Thank you.” Alex grinned and finally wrapped a hand around him, watching as Henry’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted on a near silent gasp.

He took his time unravelling Henry with his hands and mouth and Henry happily returned the favour afterwards, both of them left warm, contented, and sleepy when it was over. Henry would have given anything to stay wrapped up with Alex like this forever, but he couldn’t. Not now at least. Maybe later. If all went well anyway.

He wasn’t really worried about it, he tried to tell himself. He knew Alex loved him, had admitted to ‘feeling forever’ about him early on in their relationship, and would almost definitely say yes. But there was a slither of doubt and anxiety he just couldn’t shake. After a lifetime of never feeling worthy, it was hard to believe.

Watching Alex opening his presents with a fond smile, having already finished with his own, Henry fiddled with the little box in the pocket of his bathrobe. The waiting was killing him but he was going to stick to his plan. A few minutes longer with Alex as his boyfriend rather than his fiance wasn’t the end of the world. Finally, Alex was finished.

June shot a glance his way and he nodded subtly. She slid off the sofa and retrieved the final present from where it was hidden around the back of the tree.

“There’s another one for you Alex,” she said, pretending to read the label. “It’s from Henry.”

Alex took the box from his sister, not noticing as she pulled out her phone and started to sneakily record the whole thing. She was sure they’d want to remember this.

“I thought we said no gifts!” He said incredulously as he turned to his boyfriend. “Now I feel bad.” Henry smiled softly and rolled his eyes.

“Just open it.”

Alex tore the paper off and pulled the lid off the box inside, frowning at the folded piece of paper he was greeted with. He looked at Henry, question held in his eyes, but Henry just gestured for him to read the note he’d written. Hesitantly, Alex unfolded the paper and began to read.

Henry watched his face carefully, seeing his reactions play out freely as he focused on the love letter, not noticing Henry slip off his armchair and kneel in front of him. He pulled the the box from his pocket and opened it, not saying a word, just waiting patiently for Alex to finish reading. There were tears forming in the corners of his eyes now and Henry watched him trying to keep them at bay, failing completely by the time he got to the end. He put the paper down, finally laying eyes on Henry and the ring in his hands. He stared for a long moment in silence before whispering a single word.

“Yes.”

Henry’s lips twitched and a little huff of laughter escaped.

“I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“Well then hurry up and ask me!” Alex slid off the couch to kneel in front of him, linking his fingers with Henry’s free hand and staring into his eyes.

“Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, pain in my ass, love of my life, ...will you marry me?” He barely finished the question before Alex was throwing himself into his arms and crying yes repeatedly, only stopping to kiss him senseless. The unexpected force knocked Henry onto his ass but Alex didn’t stop kissing him for a second, climbing into his lap and threading his fingers through soft blond hair.

Henry slid his hands to Alex’s waist and pulled him closer as he kissed back with the same passion Alex was using, neither of them caring that the whole family was there, and June stopped recording. With their permission, she’d share the video later and the world didn’t need to see all that. Finally, with flushed cheeks and elated smiles, they broke apart and Henry slid the ring onto Alex’s finger, a quick snap telling them June had captured the moment.

More snaps followed as Alex cupped Henry’s jaw and kissed him again, gentler, slower, but just as loving as before. He’d never felt so happy. He’d said before that Henry was his forever but now there was no question about it. He was Henry’s forever as well.

Later, when they were both out of their pyjamas and media appropriate, June took cheesy but classic couple engagement announcement pictures for them to post on Instagram, sending the ones she’d taken in the morning alongside them. Alex spent a long time looking at the picture of them kissing in their pyjamas when he and Henry snuggled into bed that night. The ring was clearly visible where he was holding Henry’s face and the love and joy seemed to radiate out of the photo, touching his heart and making him relive the moment in vivid detail. There was no way the royal or white house PR teams would be happy about him sharing such a messy, private, candid moment on social media but that was the real them.

Normally he didn’t want the world glimpsing too much of their private life, happy to play the role he’d perfected over the years, the more media friendly version of himself. But there was something about this moment and this photo. This was them. This was something that meant the world to him and he wanted memorialised in some small way, shared so everyone would know how happy Henry made him.

Forgoing the rules and the perfectly cute and acceptable options at his disposal, Alex uploaded the photo, only writing the shortest of captions before posting and putting his phone aside. It needed no explanation after all.

Henry was looking at him fondly when Alex rolled onto his side to face him. He linked their fingers together, gaze catching on the ring once more before Henry tilted his face back towards his own and brought their lips together. They both ignored the incessant buzzing of their phones as they blew up, losing themselves in each other for a while instead.

“I love you,” Alex whispered when they stopped.

“I love you too.” Alex looked down at the ring again, smiling softly and running his thumb over the smooth gold.

“That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how I’m meant to top that.”

“You already have.” Alex flicked his eyes back to Henry’s, a hint of confusion in them. Henry moved his face close to Alex’s again, pausing a breath away. “You said yes,” he whispered and kissed him.

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

Firstprince: @alex-g-claremont-diaz

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #FirstPrince #firstprince fanfic #alex claremont diaz x henry fox montchristen windsor #Alex x Henry #rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue fanfic

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allie1804-fan · 4 years

Text

A Doorway is Opened (Chapter 2)

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It was June 2020 and progress was being made with plans to re-open film production - Keanu would soon be heading back to Germany to continue shooting the Matrix 4. With the lock-down restrictions on meeting friends lifting, Keanu invited Hannah to dinner at his house. He even cooked - a dish of spaghetti with prawns, fresh tomato and lemon that his sister had taught him. This would be their first meeting in 2 months and their last in 2 months due to the shooting schedule.

After dinner, they went through to his living room and sat on the sofa to talk through the latest draft of the script.

“So, you’re glad I pushed you on this aren’t you? Gave you something to do in lock-down huh?”

“Yeah OK you win”, she laughed. “I’m grateful to you for giving me the confidence to try”

She carried on:

“You know these past couple of months I’ve felt like the clouds have lifted, the clouds of grief …. and I know that’s partly just time passing but it’s also thanks to you and your friendship” she spoke in an almost whisper. When she met his gaze he was blushing again!

“The screenplay gave me a real focus for the first time since Mark died you know other than helping the boys and just putting one foot in front of the other”

He nodded his understanding

“I kind of feel like a plant coming back to life after a long dark winter”

He smiled to think he’d helped her to loosen grief’s grip on her soul.

“I heard a theory about this before. They said that your grief is always the same, the same size and just as painful but your life grows around it and cushions the pain”

Keanu nodded his agreement

“For me” he said, “sometimes my grief bursts forth like an alien from my chest when I least expect it. I hope we find a way to express your concept in the movie when it’s made - I love it so much. You have some beautiful ways of explaining grief”

“Well like I said, that one’s not mine, it’s just one I found that really resonated with me”

“You’re too modest”

They looked at each other. Somehow, the atmosphere had changed with the sharing of such deep feelings. Keanu looked at her, soft brown eyes holding hers for a few moments longer than felt comfortable. Suddenly he shook his head as if a shiver went through him

“Where are my manners, would you like some more wine”

“I better not, I’m driving and I’ve already had one glass” she said.

“You could always sleep over, in the spare room I mean, I mean I’m not hitting on you or anything, not that I wouldn’t want to, oh God! ……….”

By this point, Hannah had started laughing at his befuddlement and he started to giggle as well.

“Sorry for being such a dork – could you stay though?” he beseeched her with his eyes, or do you need to be back for the kids?, I know I sound like I’m begging, I kind of am I guess ……….. it would just be nice to talk some more ………. I mean what with we me going away for 2 months, Facetime just isn’t the same!”

Hannah took pity on him and placed her hand on top of his and stroked it softly

“1 I don’t need to be back for the boys, they’re at their grandparents this week and so 2, yes I could sleep over and 3 yes please, more wine!”

Keanu beamed and leapt up to fetch the bottle from the kitchen.

“What were we talking about before I started being a total dork?!

Hannah chuckled “oh grief, death, our usual cheery stuff!”

“Oh yes, of course we were, what else is there after all?!”

A ghost of a smiled showed on Hannah’s face.

“Do you mind telling me some more about Mark? How long were you together”

“Wow, over 30 years - we were just kids when we met, literally in elementary school. But we didn’t go out until I was 17, nearly 18. I guess I kind of stalked him until he caved in! We knew we were in love about a month in I guess and we got engaged whilst at uni but married just after. I was 23 so we had been married 27 years when he died”

“Wow you were so young to be getting married!”

“I know right! - when I think Toby is already nearly that age, it freaks me out big time. Anyway, I guess you almost know the rest, from the book. We were lucky in so many ways to find each other and stay in love throughout.

A comfortable silence fell as she reflected and wondered about his romantic history. She hoped their current intimacy meant it would be OK to ask.

“What about you? Who have been your big loves, if it’s OK to ask”

“Sure – I mean I think I can be confident of not seeing any of this in next week’s National Enquirer! Let me see, errrrm there was Penny. She drove with me from Toronto to LA when I left there to pursue my career. It wasn’t exactly serious - she knew how focussed on my acting I was, but she was special, my first steady girlfriend I guess.”

Keanu then told her about a few other steady girlfriends in the 80’s and early 90s. None of them had lasted beyond a year. Film and promotional schedules often overtook his time and took him away from LA making it hard to sustain relationships.

“And then there was Jennifer. We had a long distance thing largely as I was away filming the first Matrix not long after we hooked up. I think that added in my head to the romance of it all. Writing her letters on my little typewriter after long days on set, posting them from thousands of miles away. Once I got back to LA things felt less sure, she was never confident in us, always needing reassurance and I think she found the celebrity thing both exciting and overwhelming - like she was part way a fan, partly my lover, you know? Then she got pregnant and everything changed”

“Oh so Jennifer was the mother of your baby, the one who died?”

Hannah knew this one fact about him but had steered away from looking stuff up on-line about it. She counted him as a friend now so if anything was to be shared, it had to come from him.

“Yeah, Ava’s mother. 19 years ago…….so much water under the bridge.”

“Do you think about her often now?”

“Who? Jen or Ava?”

“Both I guess”

“Yeah sometimes. You know in a sliding doors type way, especially at Christmas. That’s when we lost Ava. Christmas Eve 1999. What about you, do you think about your lost babies?”

“Yes sometime of course ……. but I think it’s different for me. My lost babies paved the way for Josh. If they’d lived, he wouldn’t be here, so I don’t mourn them as maybe you mourn your daughter, do you see? Of course I do think of them and every Christmas we’d hang stars and angels on the tree for them. That’s how we remembered them and the pain of their loss.”

Hannah was quiet for a few moments, remembering

“Do you have a way, a ritual to remember Ava? Do you and your family do something to remember her?”

“I guess they always just try to make sure I’m not alone at Christmas. That’s threatened to happen a couple of times and then Brenda or Janey or Alexandra have stepped in you know to rescue me! Stop me embodying my meme!”

“Your meme?”

You know, “Sad Keanu”?

“That one must have passed me by! I’ll get the boys to explain to their boomer mom!”

“I’m so glad you’re a boomer mum as you say and not all over it when it comes to press and internet stuff about me. It’s refreshing. Makes me feel I can be me without all that stuff informing who you think I am. Sometimes it gets in the way with new people, you know? I know I can be myself around my old old friends like Alex (he was in Bill and Ted) and Rob (he was in the band with me)

“Wait you were in a band?”

“Yes back in the 90s, Dogstar. Our folk thrash punk band”

“Sounds interesting – I clearly wasn’t paying enough attention back in the 90s!”

“Well we weren’t exactly topping the charts so that would probably explain it!”

“Can I hear some of your stuff?”

“Sure”

Keanu fetched some cds and had a look through to pick a song, going for “And I Pray”.

“Gosh, a man of many talents” she praised “what did you play?”

“the bass”

“Cool”

“wanna listen to some more music? I can hook up my phone to the speakers and we can play things on Spotify”.

“Sure, so you’re au fait with all the new tech? I took me ages to get there and I still have loads of cds and vinyl”

“me too - believe me I’m generally way behind the curve with technology but my god-daughter and my kid sister both played a role in bringing me into the 21st century”

They spent the next couple of hours, huddled on the sofa, scrolling through music choices on his phone and sharing both his and her favourites as well as reminiscing about bands they’d grown up listening to and great concerts they’d been to.

It was around 1am, with Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” softly playing that Hannah’s head lolled onto Keanu’s shoulder, the impact startling her back awake

“sorry, sorry” she said embarrassed

“hey no worries, you wanna go to bed now?” he asked

“Yeah, as you saw, my eyes are closing”

“Come on, let’s get you set up in the guest room, I’ve got a spare t-shirt you can sleep in if you like and there’s a new toothbrush in the en-suite with your room.

The room was a pretty one, perhaps decorated with his god-daughter in mind she thought. Once he’d shown her where things were and how to work the shower, Keanu bade her goodnight with a light kiss on her cheek. Despite being so tired, it took Hannah a good half hour to fall asleep. She touched the cheek where he’d kissed her and giggled inwardly at herself for feeling like a giddy teenager. In the past 2 months, she’d recognised her growing fondness for Keanu, putting it down to a mix of absence making the heart grow fonder and the Covid crisis making her susceptible. She’d found him very attractive way before she met him but she certainly hadn’t expected that he would reciprocate those nascent feelings. Tonight his lingering gaze as they talked about grief, his befuddlement trying to get her to stay and his soft goodnight kiss all made her wonder and maybe even hope. Tomorrow was another day.

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#keanu #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves imagine #fluff #romance #miscarriage #stillbirth #same age

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iredreamer · 5 years

Note

Thank you so much for your insights on Anne's life and the details of social norms back then! I really enjoyed reading your posts, and it's absolutely fascinating! I have seen some controversy around her relationship with Ann. Aside from the show of course, what is your perspective on their relationship?(I have read in a couple of places that Anne kind of just "settled" for Ann and her heart really lied with Mariana) So I was wondering, as someone who read about both the Ann(e)s what you think?

hey :) I’m finally answering you! Thank you so much, I’m happy you’re enjoying the history facts haha.

Okay, this turned out to be waaaay longer than I thought, so grab a cup of coffee (or tea I guess) and sit comfortably!

First of all, I think this is a difficult answer because I do feel like everyone could elaborate their own opinion on the matter, and at the end we would never know were the truth really lies. To have some kind of unbiased opinion one should read every single entry of Anne’s diary about Miss Walker and Mariana and compare how she acts with both of them and how she writes about them, and of course that can’t be done (at least for now) so…this is my opinion and it’s of course based on what I have read (my sources: Gentleman Jack: The Real Anne Lister; Presenting the past: Anne Lister of Halifax, 1791-1840; Nature’s Domain: Anne Lister and the Landscape of Desire and Female Fortune: Land, Gender and Authority: The Anne Lister Diaries and Other writings). We should also consider that these two women [Walker and M] were really different from each other and Anne meets them in two very different moments of her life, when she meets Mariana she’s in her 20s and when she meets Ann she’s 41, in twenty years a person changes, their priorities change and even the way of showing love and affection changes.

Okay, now, about the Mariana-Anne-Ann thing…I already wrote something about the matter and you can find it here, it summarizes a little what I think about Anne & Ann’s relationship and also has some facts about how things went between them and with Mariana.

I also posted some extracts from Anne’s 1832 diary in which she says more than once that she feels like she’s falling in love with Miss Walker and that: “I really am getting much more in love than I expected to be again”. So let’s debunk the myth that she didn’t give a flying fuck about Ann Walker.

Now, let’s dive in, I have many thoughts about all of this and I tried to organize them as best as I could but I probably failed, so this might be a bit of a rant and all over the place, I hope you enjoy reading it anyway! And, one more thing, most of this long rant focuses on the Ann(e)s relationship and what are (some of) the things and facts that make me think that they did love each other and that Anne Lister did care about Miss Walker. Here we go…

Anne Lister wanted a wife. She says it many many times. She’s always writing how she wants someone to spend her life with, and when she comes back to Shibden at 41 she wants to settle down. She’s tired of all those women who used her for sex, company and sometimes even money without seriously committing to her (and yes, Mariana is one of those women). I love when at the beginning of Nature’s Domain Liddington writes that Anne Lister could have adapted the opening of Pride and Prejudice: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in need of a good fortune must be in want of a wife”. So, she was in search of a wife…

In 19th century marriage was a “legal agreement”, you didn’t marry for love but for money, so, yes, that’s what Anne was looking for in a woman: money and status, but also the desire of a happy life together. When she meets Ann and decides to court her she writes many times how she likes her company and how she wants to make her happy and how happy that would make her in return: “I really think I can make her happy & myself too”. And: “She [Miss Walker] falls into my views of things admirably. I believe I shall succeed with her - if I do, I will really try to make her happy - & I shall be thankful to heaven for the mercy of bringing me home, having first saved me from Vere, rid me of M-, & set me at liberty.” I think the fact that she was looking for happiness and thought she could really achieve it with Miss Walker is often overlooked and it shouldn’t be, it’s an important fact.

One of the things that struck me while reading Anne’s diary is that, when things don’t go as she planned, she writes again and again how she doesn’t care about Miss Walker, how she doesn’t care how things will turn out in the end, how she doesn’t care if Ann decides to commit to her or not, but her actions and her behavior conflict with all that. It seems as if she’s trying to convince herself that she doesn’t care, to protect herself from going through another heartbreak. This is an example, Ann had to give Anne a final answer about their commitment, Anne writes:

November 2, 1832 / We fretted ourselves to sleep last night - she lay on me as usual to warm her stomach & then lay in my arms – but I was perfectly quiet & never touched her queer – the tears silently trickling from my cheeks down hers. Somehow I was shockingly attendri [softened] tho’ perpetually saying to myself ‘Well, I care not how she decides…’. On awaking found myself as tearful as ever (…) We wept (& kissed) – I thanked her & she left me. (…) Both of us attendries & the tears starting perpetually I said my mind was made up for the worst – she said ‘Well, but she had not given her answer yet’…. She would (& did) mend my gloves – begged me to promise to let her have a night-chemise for a pattern – but she saw I declined promising. She hoped she should do many more things for me – never knew till now how much she was attached to me. I made no reply… she hung upon me & cried & sobbed aloud at parting… ‘Well’, said I to myself as I walked off, ‘a pretty scene we have had, but surely I care not much & shall take my time of suspense very quietly & be easily reconciled either way’.

The most important fact (I think) that gives us some insight on how Anne felt about Miss Walker, is that Anne was the only one who genuinely cared about Ann’s health. Anne Walker’s mental health was really bad but Anne stayed close to Miss Walker and helped her for months, trying to make her feel better, trying to restore her health. At that time the engagement was off, so it’s not like she [Anne Lister] was acting like that because she hoped her kindness would convince Ann Walker to marry her, it’s not like she was doing it for the money, she was doing it because Ann needed her. In her diary she says how the situation is unbearable for her, but still, she doesn’t leave Ann’s side. Why do this? It was all off, she didn’t have any obligation to look after Ann. Why take such responsibility? Why stay in a situation that threatened her happiness and mood if she didn’t care?

Anne Lister writes, again, how she doesn’t care about Miss Walker but then ends up crying when the thought of her crosses her mind: “Seeing her always unhinges me…I was low and in tears at dinner and could not get her out of my head and why? For if I had her what could I do with her?” Come on…it’s hard for me to think that the sadness she felt was only because things didn’t go as she planned, it’s hard for me to think that she cries only for the money. Do we really have to think her that cold? I think Anne couldn’t stay away from her really: “This girl, without really having my esteem or affection, somehow or other unhinges me whenever I see her…“.

When they see each other again, after being away from each other for 10 months (during that time they kept a correspondence even if it wasn’t a direct one), they are very happy to reunite and they end up together again: “Much talk last night till 4 this morning and then not asleep for a long while. She [Miss Wlaker] repented having left me”. Anne Walker starts talking about wanting to commit again and at the end they marry each other. Was their journey an easy one? No. Was it an happy one? Not always. But I do believe they cared for each other.

And I just wanna say, in those 10 months they spent apart, Anne Lister never tried to find a serious partner, she was always flirting and shit because that’s who she was, but she always wrote how she didn’t want to go too far with anyone and she just kept thinking about Ann Walker, even if she didn’t want to think about her, even if it was all off. She worried when letters about Ann Walker stopped coming. I mean, come on…

So, fast forward to their marriage and what happened after it. Mariana tried to tempt Anne but with no luck. Anne went to visit her for Christmas and this is what happened, from Anne Lister’s diary:

December 23, 1834 / I led the conversation to A- [Ann Walker]; said I liked [her], was more than comfortable and whatever might be said, money had nothing to do with it. M- [Mariana] asked if it was true that she has three thousand a year - I said no, but our fortunes would be about equal and that we should have five thousand a year… I was thankful things were as they were, for I was determined to have [some]one and certainly could not have done better.

December 25, 1834 / M- [Mariana] came to me a little before eight and staid till nine in bed with me - rather in the pathetics - she cannot get over her love for me - but I behaved with perfect propriety

Anne comes back home to Ann Walker (they were already living together, Ann Walker moved in at Shibden Hall after their marriage, going against her family) I think they’re cute:

December 26, 1834 / A- [Anne Walker] jumped up & came to me in her dressing gown & clock, delighted to see me back again - had given up in despair. Had tea - the 1st thing we did was to laugh aloud at her droll figure & the bustle I had made - explained, sat talking - told her I myself was astonished how little I had thought of M-, either of going or returning - very glad to be back again - mentioned how I had offered her the use of Shibden in the event of Charles’s death.

Reading her diary entries (from 1833 till 1836) it’s clear that she and Ann talked a lot, their sex life was great, Anne introduced Ann to her social circle, they had fun playing backgammon (fun fact: Ann Walker was really better at it than Anne Lister ahaha), and yeah, they were just like any other married couple. There were also bad things in their marriage: Anne Lister had to be the one introducing Ann Walker to new people, Anne Lister read all Ann Walker’s letters and always suggested how to answer, and more…

So, what’s the point of all this? I do think that Anne Lister cared and loved Ann Walker. For sure the relationship with Ann Walker was not the most romantic one she had, but it was the most serious one, they found each other. Both of them wanted a “traditional marriage” and by traditional marriage I mean a marriage in which the roles were very clear. Ann Walker wanted someone who could take care of the business estate, manage social relationships and basically “play the husband” and Anne Lister was more than happy to take on that role. They were polar opposites but they wanted the same things in life.

For sure their marriage wasn’t perfect, but Anne behaved as she did because she saw their union as a serious one, “she saw absolutely no reason why property should not be as important a consideration for Ann and herself as it would be in any heterosexual alliance.” [J. Liddington, Female Fortune] at the same time we shouldn’t forget that “she did often demonstrate a warm affection and care for Ann” [J. Liddington, Female Fortune].

About her relationship with Mariana, I haven’t read much of Anne’s entries about her, but from the little I’ve read and from various commentaries, I can say that she for sure loved her (and yes Mariana was her first real love and their relationship went on for something like 20 years). Mariana manipulated her and led her on for years. The two always talked about how when M’s husband died they would live together, but from 1830 Anne Lister kinda stops caring about it, she’s tired of the situation and hates to be second to anyone. Their relationship deteriorates with time. She even wrote about Mariana that their passion turned into friendship or something along those lines. If you wanna know more about Anne & Mariana’s relationship I really suggest watching this video of Helena Whitbread talking about it, it really sheds some light on their relationship, their dynamic and how badly Mariana hurt Anne.

What I believe: Anne’s love for Mariana was disinterested and wholeheartedly felt, there’s no doubt about that (I mean, she saw her when she was 19 and fell in love with her right in that moment), if Mariana hadn’t been the bitch she was, Ann Walker would have never came in the picture. But the truth is that Mariana was always ashamed of Anne, used her and kept her close, taking advantage of her love but never committing to her, always and only concerned about her status. So, in conclusion, I’m happy Anne found someone like Ann who was brave enough to be with her and make her as happy as she could, and I think that must have meant something in the end.

I hope this long thing I wrote gives you an idea of the dynamic between Anne and these two women. There’s for sure a lot more to say and to analyze and there are still many Anne Lister’s words that haven’t seen the light of day so, who knows what else is there to know about how she truly felt about these two.

And one more thing, I think we shouldn’t expect Anne Lister to be the romantic heroine we would like her to be, because she wasn’t. She was a flawed, not “very nice” woman who lived in the 19th century and tried to do all she could to be happy.

#ask #anon #gentleman jack #anne lister #ann walker #mariana lawton #me screaming about gentleman jack #this is long af #sorry #real people: anne lister #real people: ann walker #real people: mariana lawton #AL and AW: courtship #AL and AW: married life

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yungimmortals · 3 years

Text

phone numbers | jaime (ft. risa)

date: december 26, 2020

summary: a long-overdue phone call, a heavy dose of salt in an old wound, and a very low battery

An unknown number flashed across his screen. Never one to pick up the phone unless he absolutely had to (and definitely not one to pick up when he didn’t recognize the caller), Jaime let it go to voicemail, tossing his phone onto his bed.

Swiveling in his desk chair, he spin in a full circle before returning his focus to the project he had been working on since getting back to his apartment earlier that evening. Christmas with Katie’s family had been fun; now it was time for Jaime to recharge. Restoring a vintage typewriter -- Jaime’s Christmas present to himself -- was the perfect thing to do. In the last hour, he had polished it, ridding the typewriter of years of rust and grime. All the type-levers were in place, all the knobs and buttons in working condition. Now it was time to work on the carriage lever and the platen, time to get the machine ready for writing.

Dismantling his typewriter was a delicate process, interrupted again by the ringing of his phone. “Where is it?” He mumbled, turning is his chair and taking a dive at the bed when he spotted his phone. Snatching it up, he recognized the same number that had called earlier but was saved the trouble of a debate as to whether or not he should answer it when his screen went dark once more. A moment later, a voicemail notification flashed across his screen.

Curiosity piqued, Jaime unlocked his phone, raising it to his ear to listen to the voicemail. The last voice he expected to hear drifted out of the phone’s speakers and he dropped it in surprise.

Jaime, it’s me. I need to talk to you. I hope this is still your number.

Without hesitation, he returned the call. There was one ring, then two, then three. Jaime bounced his leg up and down before spinning around in his desk chair, his stomach a pit of nerves. As the line continued to ring, he was almost positive he had imagined the voicemail. But then there was an audible click, followed by the sound of his sister’s voice.

“So this is your number. Rowan’s handwriting is absolute shit, I couldn’t tell if that last number was a seven or a four. Can’t believe she wants to go to art school with that chicken scratch.”

“Risa?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I, er. That is-”

His sister’s laughter sounded tinny, far away. “Jaime, relax. Oh, and Merry Christmas. Did you get our card?”

Jaime switched the call to speaker phone and placed his phone on his desk. He stared at it blankly before scrubbing his face with his hands. “Card?”

“Yeah, Ro made you a Christmas card in her risography workshop. She’s building her portfolio for college but I’m sure she told you that since you talk, like, all the time.” Risa sounded bitter as she spoke, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway, I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”

In eight years, his middle sister had never once called of her own volition. Even convincing her to be a part of Jaime and Rowan’s ‘family phone calls’, had taken a few years of their littlest sister badgering her. Now Risa was calling and it sounded important and Jaime couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He must have been silent for too long, he realized, hearing his sister clear her throat.

“Jay, if you’re busy, just tell me. I’ll find another time,” she said, though from her tone, Jaime could tell that if they didn’t talk about what was on her mind now, they likely never would.

“No! I mean, no, I’m not busy. I was just-- yeah, no, I’m here. What-- what’s up?” Jaime pushed his typewriter to the side before rummaging through his desk drawer for a notebook and pen (just in case he needed to take notes). He chuckled as Risa told him to buckle up, already welcoming the familiarity with which she was speaking to him, no matter how strange it felt.

“This isn’t what I’m calling about but I might as well tell you while we’re here. Dad’s sick. He said you cursed him or some shit, but it’s all bull. He went off the deep end a few years ago. Totally cuckoo. I figured you didn’t know, since you and Ro have your stupid agreement to never mention Charles to each other. Says he’s seeing things. Monsters and shit. Which I would call bull, but I remember that creepy guy. You know, the one waiter at the Dog & Pony that would always stare at you and Mom when we all went for dinner? He only had one eye. I don’t mean like an eyepatch. I mean one freaking eye, right in the center of his head. Don’t know if you ever noticed that, but I did.” Now that Risa had started talking, it seemed she couldn’t stop. “And that’s not the last time I saw something or someone weird like that. There’s a girl who works at the nature center in the park and I swear, Jay. I freaking swear that she melts into the trees. She’s a dryad right? I got lunch with your aunt last week and she filled me in on some stuff. I don’t know how she got in touch with us. Said something about your dad, I don’t remember. But, anyway, we got lu-”

“My aunt?” Jaime interrupted, feeling guilty for doing so, but not seeing where he could get a word in edgewise if he waited for her to pause.

“Oh, shit. Wait, there’s a picture, did I mention a picture? Before I forget. It’s with your card. I was digging through some of Mom’s trail crew stuff in the attic a while back, looking for her old boots, and I found it. It says ‘David’ with a heart next to it on the back. That was his name, right? Your dad?”

Jaime blinked, surprised at both the abrupt subject change and the mention of his father. He didn’t want the subject of his aunt to drop but the photograph won his curiosity. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Okay, so you’ll see it, but, like, it’s totally weird. There’s a lens flare on it but it’s, like, just across your dad. Kinda ruins the whole picture, you can’t see him at all. It’s like when you try to take a photo of the sun. Mom looks beautiful though, but she always did. I think they were at Otter Cove, and I know that was one of your favorite trails.”

Like trying to photograph the sun. Jaime almost laughed. Risa had no idea how close to the truth she was. Which reminded him, “You had lunch with my aunt?”

“Dude, yeah. And she’s, like, so cool. If you’re related to so many cool people -- myself and Ro included, obviously -- how did you turn out like this?”

He could hear Risa laugh on the other line and just rolled his eyes. He glanced down at his notebook where he’d written a collection of words: cursed, Cyclops, dryads in Acadia? The latter was underlined several times, whether from surprise or excitement, Jaime couldn’t remember. He realized his sister had started speaking again. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“I was saying, if you were paying attention, that we went to Geddy’s -- that veg place on Main? -- for lunch and she was telling me about some fancy neo-classical city? New Athens or some shit like that, I think. In New York. Is that where you live? Ro told me you were like, weirdly into Greek mythology one time. But honestly, that tracks with some of the stuff I’ve seen. Hey, how come your aunt was looking for me, not you? She said something about mist but it was. like, not even a foggy day. We could see out over the harbor. Crystal clear.”

“The Mist,” Jaime correctly automatically, then pinched the bridge of his nose. The list in his notebook grew longer as their call stretched on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, in response to Risa’s question about his aunt. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Artemis? Which I was like hello, weird, since I was literally just thinking about you and your Greek mythology phase. I asked if she was David’s sister and she said ‘if that’s what he’s calling himself now’. Do estranged siblings run in your side of the family or something?”

At that, Jaime made a choking sound, staring at his phone. The resulting crow of laughter from his sister made it clear that she’d been expecting, no, hoping for that reaction.

“Just messing with you, Jay. Relax. Anyway. She’s got this, like, wild grrl gang of hikers that travel the country? Gave me a pamphlet, told me to consider it. She said I could tell Rowan too, but when I did, Ro didn’t seem to care at all. She’s just got art school on the brain, I think. Your aunt had told me that would happen, said that the Mist was thicker around our sweet baby sister. But, uh, do you know what the Mist is? I’m, like, pretty sure you do since you corrected me a minute ago.”

“I-”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. So anyway, Aunt Artemis said you’re a demigod. Guess your dad’s name isn’t really David, huh? Last I checked, there’s no Greek god of boring dad names. Care to fill me in? Is that why I’ve seen some weird, like, mythological creatures around the harbor when we were growing up? Oh and Grandma Hana says hi.”

A distressed sound escaped Jaime’s lips. He had forgotten his sister’s habit of bouncing from subject to subject and here it was, smacking him in the face with more new information than he could handle at the moment. Christmas wishes had been exchanged with his grandmother the day before, so he didn’t have to worry about acknowledging that topic, thankfully. His brain was working in overdrive and he could practically feel Risa’s impatience, the longer he was silent.

“Jaime,” she prompted.

He sighed, massaging his temples as he stared down at his phone. “His name isn’t David, it’s Apollo. Artemis’ brother. They aren’t named after the Greek gods, they are the Greek gods. So yes, that makes me a demigod. And it sounds like...you can probably see through the Mist. At least a little more than most mortals.”

“Holy shit. And you never thought ‘hey maybe I should tell my sister this super freaking weird but also totally cool thing about me’? What the shit, Jaime!”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he hadn’t known until after he left, until after he read the letter their mother had left for him, but Risa was steamrolling ahead.

“Wait...wait, so that was the Artemis? Your aunt is the Artemis? And she- and she invited me to join her immortal Hunt?” He heard a muffled shriek, like she had covered the receiver with her hand. A small smile spread across his face. “Well, I’m saying yes...obviously.”

“Okay, hold on a second there. That’s a big decision, don’t you think you shou-”

“Oh no, no. I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t get to play the big brother card here, Jay. You don’t get to keep secrets for years and then tell me I need to think about accepting an offer from a goddess. And don’t say some shit about me looking after Rowan. She doesn’t need anyone to look after her. You’d know that if you were here. Honestly, she does a better job looking after me than I do her. Shit, wait. Does that mean Dad’s not crazy? Did you really make all those people sick all the time? Did you...make Mom sick? Isn’t Apollo the god of healing?”

“I wasn’t playing the big brother card!” He protested weakly. As she continued, Jaime blanched. Several times. First at the mention of his absence, then at the mention of Charles’ theories, and again at the mention of their mother. “I’m sorry,” he started, hoping Risa understood that he was apologizing for leaving. They would have more time to unpack that later, he figured.

"Charles is definitely still crazy. I didn’t make all those people sick. Mom either. I, uh, I only did it once. Made someone sick, I mean. It was a boy that bullied me at school during the years Mom was sick and Charles wouldn’t listen to me about it. One day the kid was beating me up and hitting me and, and I, I don’t know what happened. I pushed him and pushed? I don’t know, energy? At him, and I gave him the chicken pox or something, at least I think that’s what the school said. Chicken pox,” he scoffed, ducking his head, despite the fact that Risa couldn’t see him. “He’s the god of many things. Music, the arts, the sun. Healing, yeah, but plague and illness is the flip side of that.”

“Like the plague arrows he shot at the Greeks. Before you say anything, yes, I’ve read the Iliad. And The Song of Achilles, which, if you haven’t read it, you have to.” As if realized she’d gotten off track, Risa was quiet for a moment. Jaime was thankful she didn’t push him on the subject of his powers; he wasn’t sure what he would have said if she had. When his sister spoke again, she sounded farther away, her voice detached. “Artemis told me there are other children of Apollo. You have other family.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation -- that was clear. When Jaime answered, he sounded tired. “I do, yeah.” Though his sister couldn’t see it, his expression was one of regret. “But it’s, it’s not like that, Ris.”

“I didn’t ask what it was like,” she snapped. After a moment of tense silence, he could hear her sigh. “I’m going to contact Artemis. Learn as much about your world as she’ll tell me. And then I’m going to join the Hunt.”

With a click, the line went dead.

Jaime stared at his phone in silence until the screen darkened, battery dead as well. He heaved a sigh, detangling himself from his desk chair to plug his phone into the cord on his nightstand to charge. So much for recharging, he thought to himself, knowing his own battery was dangerously low. Exhaling a groan, Jaime sunk onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. To the constellations on his ceiling, he murmured, “That went about as well as it could have, all thing considered.”

#m: jaime #npc: risa #self para

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rorynne · 5 years

Text

Time Lost (Rewrite) Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Summary: An accident during a mission sends you back in time to the second world war. There you enlist the help of Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes to find the object that can send her back.

Warnings: Christmas, alcohol, fluff

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: This is a rewrite of an OC fic that I have been writing and been wanting to turn into a reader Fic. I’m unsure if I will be continuing the OC fic currently, I may just transfer it completely to my reader Fic. Currently 6 chapters are up of the OC fic, and I shall be posting a rewritten chapter every few days on here.

Masterlist

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Christmas at the base was an interesting affair. An outsider may have called it pathetic or pitiful, but it was an important morale boost to the men and women involved. All training for the day had been canceled, and all personnel on the base gathered at the mess hall to celebrate. Music played from a radio as men and women laughed, danced, and drank.

You smiled and sipped your drink as you watched Dugan and Jones attempt to ‘convince’ Steve to wear a Santa’s hat and beard. Or rather, the two of them were trying to slip it onto his head every time he had his back turned. There was a ten-dollar reward for anyone that could manage it. “Maybe you should try tackling him!” You yelled to the pair as the failed once again.

“Don’t give them ideas Doll.” Bucky laughed next to Steve, “They might hurt themselves.”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be my fault if they decide to do it.” Neither you nor Bucky had talked about that night by the fire a few days ago, and as far as you were concerned, you were okay with that. You didn’t want to think about the slight flutter in your chest that you got whenever you so much as glanced at him, and you sure as hell didn't want to think about the way your stomach swooped when you got near him. You had a mission to accomplish! A goal to meet! A home to get back to. You couldn’t risk your future over some pretty eyes and a nice smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Falsworth asked, sitting down next to you.

You hummed, considering his question for a moment, “We’re halfway there. In a month's time, you boys will have all the training we can give you and you’ll be off storming hydra bases and killing Nazis.” You took another sip of your drink, the alcohol burned your throat as it went down. That was probably only half of the things on your mind. “I just really hope it will be enough.”

Falsworth looked at you, “Are you worried it won’t be?”

“Aren’t you?” You asked, “We’re treading dangerous waters here. Any one of you could end up dead.” You watched Bucky from across the room, his face slightly flushed from drinking, donning the hat and beard the men had been trying to get on Steve.

“Why do I get the distinct impression you worry for some of us more than others?” Falsworth asked with a knowing smile, glancing briefly at Bucky. At that moment, Bucky turned his head and caught sight of you, smiling widely as their eyes met. Your face went warm before you broke eye contact to look at Falsworth.

“It’s the wrong impression.” You said coolly.

“Ah, yes.” Falsworth chuckled, “However could I have gotten it?”

You glowered at him, “Flirting doesn’t have to mean anything.”

He nodded in agreement, “Quite true.” He said, “But, generally speaking, Flirting with only one person tends to mean quite a bit.”

You inhaled sharply as you searched for an excuse, “There’s hardly any women around to flirt with.”

“Plenty of women around today, and yet the only one he seems to be interested in even looking at is you.” Your heart pulsed at Falsworth’s observation. He was right though, for all of Bucky’s talk about being a ladies’ man, you only had his and Steve’s stories as any kind of proof. You shook your head as if to try to banish the thought from your mind.

“We’re in the middle of a war.” You argued, “This is hardly the time for romance.”

Falsworth tilted his head, looking back at Bucky, “Personally, I can think of no time better. The world needs a little romance in times like these.” He said as the honk of a truck horn distracted the pair from their discussion.

“Christmas mail call.” An officer yelled into the mess hall. “Get your asses out here if you want your gifts.” Almost all at once, the men swarmed the exit, excited to get anything from home. Even Falsworth joined the mob, leaving you to sip your drink alone.

You stood up and wandered to where Steve and Bucky had been sitting. You picked up a stray Christmas cracker and turned it over in your hand. You had grown used to not expecting gifts for Christmas, but you couldn’t deny feeling a little jealous at times like these. All the more reason to try to get home as soon as possible.

“You aren’t goin’ to see if you got anything Doll?” Bucky asked from behind you, making you visibly jump. He laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

You chuckled softly, “No, I don't have anything coming for Christmas.”

Bucky frowned, visibly confused. “What’d ya mean, you’ve got to be getting something. Your family hasn't sent you anything all month.” Your breath caught in your throat as you searched for words to say. “What? You didn’t think I would notice the fact that your name hasn't been called at mail call once?”

“I don’t get mail, Buck.” You said, but it only seemed to confuse him more.

“What, so your family’s just actin’ like ya don't exist or something?” he continued to interrogate, his Brooklyn accent growing thicker.

You sighed, he was clearly too drunk to consider subtly. “I don’t have any family.”

Realization and regret washed over Bucky’s face. He swore under his breath, “You’ve gotta have someone. Even Steve gets letters from my sister. What about the guy you got into this mess helping?”

Your heart twinged painfully at the thought of Clint. “He couldn’t send me letters if he tried. I don’t have anyone alive to get letters from.”

Bucky looked at you pitifully, swearing twice more. “Doll, I,” He shook his head, looking for words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

You held a hand up to try to stop his apologies. “It’s fine, you couldn’t have known. And I’m used to it now either way.” You pointed to the package in his hands. “What did you get?”

He looked down at the half-opened guilt, slightly embarrassed. “Just a fruit cake Rebecca made.” He said sitting down at the table, “Steve got one too.”

You snorted, “She must really hate you two then.”

“Hey!” He protested before breaking into a fit of laughter. “It might be payback for all the dolls I antagonized when we were kids.”

“Sounds like you deserve it then.” You smiled, sitting next to him, ignoring your racing heart. “Here.” You said, holding out one end of the cracker to him. “Pull.” he obliged and the cracker went off with a snap. A small wooden soldier in a painted blue coat fell out onto your lap. You giggled as you picked it up and inspected it. “Merry Christmas.” You said, handing the tiny soldier to Bucky.

He raised an eyebrow but took the small toy with a small smile. “It’s better than a fruitcake.” He said, turning it in his hand. “I'll give you that.”

“I couldn’t let your Christmas be that pitiful.” You teased.

He looked at you for a moment, face soft and kind. At that moment he wasn’t the Bucky that always put on a brave face. He was something more and less. He was Bucky, just Bucky, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one with the privilege to see him like this. “Thank you Doll.” his hand brushed your arm lightly enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You pulled away almost reflexively. “Where did that Santa hat go anyway?”

“I got Steve to wear it by promising to split the ten bucks,” he said, leaning against the table, one hand still fidgeting with the toy.

Sure enough, Steve came back into the mess hall wearing the beard and hat, holding a package not unlike Bucky’s, laughing with the other commandoes. You chuckled at the sight. Of course, it was Bucky that would manage to win the bet. Those two really would do anything for each other.

White Christmas began playing on the radio and Bucky grabbed your hand as he stood up. “Let’s dance.”

“What?” You asked, eyes wide as he pulled on your hand. You shook your head, “no, no no no. I can’t dance, I don't know how.”

He rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll teach ya. Come on, just one dance.”

“There’s a dozen other girls here that are a better choice than me to dance with.”

“Not from where I’m lookin’,” He said, “Only dame I see ‘round here that I wanna dance with is you.”

You stared at him at a loss for words, standing up as a voice called into the mess hall. “Agent L/N, there's an urgent call for you from Col. Phillips.”

Bucky threw his head back in frustration, “You gotta be kiddin’ me. It’s Christmas!”

“Is Agent L/N here?” The man asked, paying no mind to Bucky’s protest.

You sighed, “Yes, I’m here, I’ll be with you in a moment.” You said. “What can I say? I haven’t had a day off in almost three years now.” You smiled at Bucky apologetically, “Looks like you’ll need to take a rain check on that dance.”

“I’ll hold you to that Doll,” He said.

You laughed, stepping away from him, “Whatever you say, Sarge.” You said before following the soldier out.

You were handed the phone Immediately as you entered the main office, “Hello-”

“L/N I want you on the first train to London yesterday.” Phillips interrupted, you frowned at the order. “A Russian ambassador is going to be here tomorrow and I trust that man about as far as I can throw him.”

Annoyance twinged at the back of your head. “Are you seriously pulling me back to babysit a fucking diplomat? The communists aren't our issue right now.” They could have the red scare after you got back home for all you cared.

“Agent, are you questioning a direct order?”

“Yes!” you snapped, “Not questioning orders is how genocide happens. Why don’t you get Agent Carter to do this?”

“She’s currently Stateside.” He said, “And we have reason to believe that this man may have some connection to hydra.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hydra was found to be operating in small groups all across the USSR after the war, but the groups were so small they were barely even of historical note. “He’s Russian, why would a Russian be working for Hydra?”

“That’s your job to find out L/N. Get your ass on the next train.” Phillips finished, hanging up. You rubbed your face and groaned, a migraine threatening behind your eyes. Your thoughts wandered back to Bucky, it looked like he wasn’t getting that dance any time soon. You tried to convince yourself it was for the best, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment. You took a deep breath and pushed the feeling as far back as it would go. You didn’t have time to be distracted by a silly crush. You had a train to catch.

Taglist (If you want to be added, ask. if you don’t see your name here and you did ask, I probably tagged you in the OC version, or think you have already read up to this point in the OC story. You will still be tagged when there's a true new part) :

@henderwhore4life

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x y/n

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pocket-luv101 · 5 years

Text

Dramatic Blond || Part 1

Fandom: Servamp Ships: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side) Characters: Hyde, Licht, Kuro, Mahiru, Lily

Summary: Hyde enrolls in Juilliard to win back his ex. But then he meets Licht who helps him discover a new dream. He will become a famous actor and show his ex that he’s someone serious. (Legally Blonde AU)

A/N: The musical was much better than I thought it would be and it inspired me to make this. I thought it would be a fun challenge to write an AU.

(Part 1) || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“Hyde, you need to rethink your relationship with Ayato. You two have been dating for a few years now but it’s clear that you’re more serious than he is. This is the third time he stood you up in a week.” Kuro sat on the porch with his brother. He wanted his brother to be happy and he could only see Ayato breaking Hyde’s heart. Unfortunately, Hyde was a hopeless romantic.

While Kuro was the oldest, he rarely pried into his siblings’ lives. He thought it was best to let them be free to make their own choices. He refused to let someone hurt his brother though. “You have your whole life in front of you, Hyde. After you get your Bachelor’s degree, you’re free to do whatever you want. You can help with the family business or backpack through Europe. Just don’t waste your time on something troublesome. Love isn’t everything.”

“You can say all that because you’ve never been in love before.” He brushed Kuro’s words aside. Hyde thought that he was being overprotective. He dated Ayato throughout high school and most of university so he thought they were both serious about their relationship. He had been distant recently but Hyde still had faith in him. “Last week, I saw him buy a ring. I think he’s going to propose to me soon.”

Kuro fell silent and he wished that he was better with words. He tried his best though. “Look, I don’t want you to get your hopes up with this guy. Isn’t there something else you want to pursue? What about all those dreams you had when you were a kid? I remember you had a lot of fun ones. You said you wanted to open a petting zoo filled with cute hedgehogs.”

“I was six when I said that.” Hyde reminded him with a chuckle. He had to admit that he let go of many of his dreams throughout their relationship. Ayato would ask him to focus more and more on him. He didn’t want to think all that time and his emotions were wasted on nothing.

The door opened behind them and they turned around to see Lily poke his head out. He had a hesitant expression as he told them, “Ayato is in front of the gate. He said he wanted to talk to you, Hyde, but I didn’t know if I should let him in. Should I tell him to come back tomorrow?”

“You should’ve told me that he was here sooner, Lily! He probably wants to apologize for missing our date. Open the gate for him. You two go back inside and let me talk to him alone.” Hyde jumped to his feet and raced down the steps. He ignored the worried look Lily had and the way Kuro shook his head. As he reached the bottom, Ayato’s car stopped in front of their home.

He felt both hopeful and nervous as Ayato stepped out of his expensive car. Hyde didn’t want those emotions to reflect in his smile and he managed to hide it. He leaned against the hood of the car and faced Ayato. “Did something come up to make you late for our date? The concert already started but we might be able to catch the second half.”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to make it to the concert. I still wanted to see you tonight and talk with you, Hyde. You look great tonight.” Ayato started and took his hand. Hyde thought of the ring he saw him buy and his hopes rose. He didn’t drop onto his knee like he expected him to. “I want you to know that you’re a great guy and anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Ayato let go of his hand and placed his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been thinking of my future. You know that I want to be a singer like my parents. After I graduate, I will go to Juilliard. I need to be serious. That’s why we should break up.”

“What?” Hyde yelled. “I thought you were going to propose to me. I saw you buy a ring!”

“I bought a ring for myself since I received a letter from Juilliard.” He said and Hyde’s head began to spin. “I thought you knew we weren’t something serious. I considered marrying you since you’re from an affluent and rich family but it won’t work out. It’s better for my career if I marry someone serious. We had a lot of fun but it’s time to focus on my career. Goodbye, Hyde.”

Hyde was too shocked to react and he stood still while Ayato patted his shoulder. He could only watch him drive away. Kuro moved to stand next to him and lightly pulled on his arm. “Are you okay, Hyde? Let’s go back inside and get you hot chocolate. You’ll move on and find someone better.”

“Hyde, I said I would support whatever you choose to do after you finish college. Are you sure you want to go to The Juilliard School of the Performing Arts though?” Kuro asked him as he walked through the hall with his brother. He wouldn’t be so reluctant if Hyde didn’t enroll in the school for the sake of a man. The siblings couldn’t dissuade him. “This place is competitive.”

“They already accepted me into the school. All those years I would sneak a peek at my Christmas presents and then act surprised turned out to be good practise for this. I’m a good actor, aren’t I, Nii-san?” Hyde chuckled. They walked down the hall of an apartment building near the school. Kuro offered to help him move his things into his new home. “This is my suite.”

They stopped in front of the door and he placed his boxes on the ground to take out his keys. He was confused when he couldn’t unlock the door. Hyde wondered if the landlord had given him the wrong key. The brothers didn’t notice someone walk towards them. He gasped when someone kicked his back and he fell forward into the door. He turned around to see a stranger glaring at him.

“What are you doing in front of my door?” The man said with a distrustful scowl. He didn’t wait for Hyde’s reply before he accused him, “It looks like you’re trying to break into my apartment, Demon. You have ten seconds to run away before I kick you again. This time, I won’t hold back.”

“That was you holding back? You look like an angel but you have one nasty kick.” Hyde groaned and rubbed the spot he kicked. He was certain that he would have a bruise there. He took out his lease agreement to prove that he lived in the building. As the man skimmed it, Hyde told him: “I just moved in. Do you live here as well?”

“I live in 205, the apartment you were trying to open. This lease says your apartment number is 206. That’s next door, Stupid Hedgehog.” Licht lightly tapped his knuckles against the apartment number hanging between their doors. Due to the placement, people would often confuse the apartment’s number. “Didn’t the landlord tell you that the room number is to the door’s right?”

Hyde shook his head and made Licht groan. He told himself that there was nothing he could do if it was a simple misunderstanding. Licht already had a headache and he wanted nothing more than to collapse on his couch. Since he missed the bus, he had to walk for an hour to return home. He gestured for Hyde to step aside so he could go into his apartment.

“Um, I think my key is stuck.” Hyde sent Licht a sheepish smile.

“Great.” He hoped Mahiru’s shop was open so he could rest there while he waited for a locksmith. Licht took out his phone to check the time. His stomach growled and he was reminded that he hadn’t eaten yet.

“I’ll pay for the locksmith.” Hyde offered. He took out the spare key the landlord gave him and opened his door. He felt guilty for locking Licht out of his home. “I’m sorry, Angel Cakes. Do you want to wait in my apartment? We have Chinese. Since we’re neighbours now, this is a great opportunity to get to know each other. My name is Hyde Lawless Servamp.”

“Licht Jekylland Todoroki.” He introduced himself and shook the hand Hyde held out to him. He had to admit that he had a charming smile for a demon but he knew better than to enter the apartment of a man he barely knew. Licht wasn’t one for pity or handouts either. He brushed aside his offer and said, “It’s alright, I can stay with a friend.”

Hyde nodded to him and walked into his apartment. He left the door open as he carried his luggage into the room. The apartment that was already furnished and he placed one of his bags on the couch. Licht’s eyes widened the moment he spotted a large, elaborate hedgehog cage. He pushed his way past the two and raced to adorable animal. “Hello, Mr. Harinezumi!”

“Did you just squeak like a hedgehog, Lichtan?” Hyde started to laugh and he hugged his stomach. He dodged the kick he aimed at his head and stepped back. Licht glared at him for a few minutes but his attention was quickly stolen by the pet hedgehog scratching on the bar. His face softened and Hyde thought it was intriguing how his expression changed so quickly.

“I named him Dr. Jekyll. Do you know how to pet a hedgehog without being pricked?” Hyde stood next to him and gently took the hedgehog out of the cage. Licht could see how gentle and careful he was with the small creature. He knelt next to him and rubbed his finger over the hedgehog’s forehead.

Licht accidentally dropped his satchel on the floor and a few books fell out. Hyde helped him gather the textbooks and he noticed that they were mostly for music history. They also appeared to be old and used. He handed it back to Licht and asked, “Are you going to Juilliard as well? I’m in the Fine Arts. It looks like we’re the same age so we might be classmates.”

“I’m pursuing my Master of Music so I doubt we have any classes together. I plan to become a brilliant pianist and spread my music to the world.” He said confidently. Hyde couldn’t tell if Licht was joking or if he truly believed that he was an angel. He smiled and played along with him. He picked up his hedgehog again and held it close to Licht’s face.

“Dr. Jekyll really likes you. It must be your angelic light.” He said playfully but Licht nodded with a proud smile. From his reaction, Hyde guessed that Licht truly believed that he was an angel. He chuckled softly and thought that it would be interesting being neighbours with him. He only turned away when Kuro placed a suitcase next to the door and spoke to him.

“This is the last bag. I brought in everything while you were talking with your new friends. You owe me lunch for all this work. My back hurts now,” Kuro groaned and rubbed his shoulders. He brought in the bags while Hyde talked with Licht because it looked like they were having fun. He hoped that meeting new people would help his brother move on from his ex.

With that thought, Kuro lied: “I got a call from the office so I need to go. Text me if something comes up. Goodbye, Hyde.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to a slice of the pizza?” He asked and Kuro shook his head. They waved to each other as he left the apartment. Hyde took the pizza box and held it out to Licht. “It looks like I’m sharing this with you tonight, Angel Cakes.”

Hyde stared at his phone but Ayato hadn’t replied to his texts. Last night, he spoke with his ex-boyfriend and they agreed to meet on a bench on campus. He was excited to see him again and mend their relationship. He spent his last year in college working hard so he could enter Juilliard. Ayato said his family wanted him to be with a celebrity so he would become an actor.

“He’s an hour late…” After dating him for years, Hyde knew that meant Ayato had stood him up once more. A heavy sigh escaped him. His class didn’t start for another hour so he didn’t know what he should do. He spotted a small music store across the street and he jumped to his feet. As he walked into the store, a sunny bell chimed.

“Good morning. Is there a particular instrument you’re looking for? I’ll be happy to help you.” A brunette behind the counter greeted him with a warm smile. “My name is Mahiru and I own this humble, little shop. If you’re a new music student at Juilliard, I hope you’ll find everything you need here.”

“I’m in the Fine Arts but I want to buy a CD of classical music for studying. It makes babies smarter so hopefully it will help me too. Admittedly, I don’t know much so can you help me find a good one?” Mahiru nodded before he led him to a rack of CDs. Hyde glanced around the shop and then he pointed to a guitar hanging on the wall. “That acoustic guitar looks cool.”

“Guys hoping to pick up people with the acoustic guitar has kept my shop open for years.” Mahiru joked and took down the guitar. He strummed a few cords and it was clear that he was skilled. His brown eyes also held a hint of nostalgia. “When I was a teenager, I fell for that act. That guy broke my heart but he helped me discover how much I love music.”

“Break ups are hard.” Hyde signed. Mahiru had seen many people enter his shop and he recognized the heartache in his red eyes. He couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

Mahiru replaced the guitar on the wall before he selected a CD from the rack. He slipped the disk into a CD player and a hopeful tune filled the shop. “This song helped me during my breakup and it might do the same for you. It’s on the house. Hyde, we’re strangers so it might not be my place to give you advice. I just want you to know that you’ll move on and find someone else.”

“But I don’t want someone else!” He argued and then he went to tell him about Ayato. Mahiru knew that Hyde likely needed someone to vent to so he simply nodded along to his story. Once he was finished, he slumped into a chair. “We were supposed to meet earlier but he didn’t show up.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Mahiru said softly. He bit his lower lip and tried to think of the best wording. “From what you’ve told me, Ayato doesn’t seem like the best guy for you. He sounds like an asshole. He might not be physically abusive but he has been very selfish in your relationship. You’ll lose yourself if you stay with Ayato.”

He could see that Hyde was still uncertain. He took out a map of the campus and circled a performance hall. Mahiru handed Hyde the map and the CD. He said, “There’s a small concert playing at ten tonight. It’s free and you should go. Maybe the performance will help you find a better dream than Ayato.”

“I thought Mahiru said that this was a concert.” Hyde looked through the small window on the door. The room was dark and he couldn’t see anyone inside. He placed his hand on the door handle and he found that it was unlocked. He opened the door slightly and a beautiful song flowed out of the room. He walked into the room and followed the alluring song.

On the stage, Licht was playing the piano. He told him that he played the piano but he never imagined that he would be so talented. The music enchanted him and held him spellbound until the whole world disappeared around them. Different emotions overwhelmed him as he listened to the passionate song. He stood still as the song slowed and faded away.

Licht yawned and stretched his arms over his head. The music room was closed after hours but Licht would sneak inside to practise the piano. He looked up and his eyes met Hyde’s. He hadn’t heard him enter and he was surprised to see him. He quickly gathered his things and then stood. “What are you doing here, Shit Rat? We’ll both be in trouble if someone catches… Are you crying?”

Hyde touched his cheek and he realized that there were tears on his cheek. Licht took out a napkin and handed it to him. He mumbled a thank you and wiped away the tears. It was embarrassing to cry in front of a man he only knew for a few days. He tried to mask how he felt and joked, “You play like an angel, Lichtan! You’re already a master so why are you here? Was that Für Elise?”

“Yes, it was.” He nodded but he was suspicious that Hyde merely wondered into the room. Mahiru was the only person who knew that he practised after hours. He wouldn’t tell someone unless there was a good reason. He looked into his red eyes and he saw a flame that had died long ago. Hyde was a good actor so Licht almost didn’t notice the slight shake in his laughter.

“Mahiru told me that there was a concert here and it could inspire me to find a new dream. You really are something amazing, Angel Cakes. What is it like to be so passionate and talented? I entered Juilliard but I’m not serious about art or music.” Hyde laughed at himself and Licht appeared confused. He briefly told him about Ayato. “I came here for love but it’s not working out well.”

“Wait, you came here to follow a man and Juilliard was just part of that plan? The admission rate is less than ten percent.” Licht was shocked by Hyde’s motivation for enrolling into the school. “So, instead of pursuing your own dream, you dropped everything for a selfish man. That’s the weirdest reason I have ever heard. Is that what you told the admission office during your interview?”

“Oh, why did you enroll then?” Hyde shot back.

Licht’s back straightened and he met his eyes. He didn’t try to hide his pride. “I was raised by a single mother and the men who repeatedly broke her heart. Each time someone walked out on us, I would play the piano to make her smile. It’s my dream to do the same for people around the world. I have sacrificed a lot and I worked myself to the bone to get where I am now.”

“It sounds like you have a chip on your shoulder.” He playfully tapped Licht’s shoulder. When he looked down, Hyde flicked his forehead. Licht scowled at him and Hyde lightly brushed his fingers over the spot he flicked. “That little chip will turn into a boulder if you keep dwelling on it, Angel Cakes.”

“A boulder can either drag you down or be used to crush demons. When you’re not born into privilege, you need to work twice as hard. We weren’t rich enough to own a piano so I would play the piano displayed in the mall. I worked two jobs in addition to my classes. But, in the end, all that work will be worthwhile when I have my first recital and see my mother in the front row.”

It was clear that Licht was close to his mother and cared for her deeply. “That’s sweet, Lichtan.”

“No, that��s the chip on my shoulder.” Licht corrected him. He mimicked Hyde’s earlier action and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Everyone has one. I suggest you use yours as motivation, Shit Rat. Dreams are what separate us so tell me about yours. You don’t deserve to be in this school unless you’re driven and working towards something.”

“You know how to rub salt into my wounds, don’t you, Angel Babe?” Hyde sat on the piano bench and drummed his fingers over the keys. “I’ve been coasting by in school and I didn’t make a backup plan for my future. I wouldn’t know what I would do, anyways. I thought a ring on my finger would be all I need. It’s a little late to find a new dream now.”

“You truly are a hopeless hedgehog. Do I need to point out the obvious to you? You can start here! The school accepted you so they must’ve recognized something in you.” Licht placed his hand next to Hyde’s on the keys and played a chord. “Of all the programs in Juilliard, you chose acting so you must have a slight interest in. Follow that instinct and see if it leads you to a new dream.”

“I like Shakespeare and have some of his plays memorized already.” Hyde gently took Licht’s hand and smiled at him. He lightly kissed his fingertips. “I’ll follow thee and make heaven of hell to die upon the hand I love so well.”

“Save the Shakespeare for a casting director, Shit Rat.” Licht took his hand back and lightly slapped his chest. “Let’s head back home. It’s late.”

#servamp #lawlicht #greed pair #servamp hyde #licht jekylland todoroki #servamp kuro #servamp snow lily #mahiru shirota #fanfiction #kuromahi will be in the next chapter

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maman-suho · 5 years

Text

Down the Corridor (M) - Part. 1

Scenario: When you discovered your young neighbor is a Muggle-born wizard, you couldn’t help but imagine both of you at Hogwarts, having fun, becoming proud wizards and staying friends for life. But life is a bitch. Life is boring. And overdramatic relationships are not realists.

Paring: LeeKnow/Minho ∞ Y/N [female] Words: 1,681

Tags: Little Angst | Hogwarts AU | MagicalWorld AU | Smutish (not now but later) | Bad language

A/N: Okay, it was supposed to be a short story but my imagination went too far. I wanted to properly write something about it, but it would be too long (maybe I’ll do it later for fun but anyway). Enjoy this SlytherinAU! Lee Know.

Chapter: 1 Title: THE WIZARD NEXT DOOR

You knew him since you were both children

Indeed his parents moved next door when you were six.

And for many years you played together in the corridor or sometimes in the building courtyard during summer vacations

But when he was sorted to Slytherin by this stupid hat

It was still a shock.

Actually, it wasn't really surprising

Minho had always been vicious and ambitious.

In primary school, he already used his magic to steal his classmates' stuff, or even just to bother them for fun.

Even if he didn't know he had magic.

And it was what set your thinking.

He didn't really know what he was doing, but on your side, you could clearly understand what was happening

He was a wizard.

Just like you and your parents.

But he was a Muggle-born wizard.

So you told your family about it, about all your suspicions

But no one believed you. To people, he was just an unbearable kid with a sly brain (which was also true)

And one day your parents invited his family for dinner

And then the little Minho saw.

He saw the magic moving spoon in the kitchen,

He saw the rememberbrall in your room.

“Don’t touch my rememberbrall!” you’d yell before taking it into your small hands.

“A what? Wait... why is it becoming red?”

“It means that... I forgot something...” you mused. “What could it be?”

“I think it’s your brain.”

So finally your parents believed you.

But even if they decided to not tell his family before they received Hogwarts letter,

And just because your parents were both Hufflepuffs kind and protective wizards,

They still took your friend under their wings.

So they told him what was happening

They brought him with you to Diagon Alley, even before Hogwarts admission letter arrived

Just for him to not be lost when he would have to bring his parents there,

And to not be lost when he will have to officially join the magical world you were raised into.

His parents actually took the news pretty well,

and it was because your family made a big deal about helping the young boy in his coming out.

So soon, you were both in the Hogwarts express,

On the road to becoming two proud wizards.

You were happy.

Things could only go well. Right?

🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️

But something happened.

Or rather than something, nothing happened.

Like in real life bitchies.

He soon had new friends and you had yours.

You were (unexpectedly) a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin.

And it happened that none of you told to people that you were neighbors and more than that;

childhood friends.

It was like a silent agreement between both of you.

You never spoke to each other in the presence of your respective friends.

Because more than being in the rival houses, it would have been a shame.

Teenagers are stupid.

Indeed he soon started to become really famous, really popular among people due to his charms and his ability to socialize easily.

And his fuckboy image didn't match with the calm one you shared with your own friends.

So after hearing how Nagisa and Chan had criticized him and his group of friends

You decided to just stay silent about your relationship with Minho.

And he did the same.

🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️

But it was strange and really uncomfortable.

One day you were in the muggle train,

Heading to your hometown for the first time since the start of the school year.

Christmas snow was falling on London suburb,

while Minho's head had fallen on your shoulder.

He was taking a nap.

You just supposed he had had fun with his friends the night before,

So you said nothing,

But each time a person passed between the train sits, you felt your stomach twist.

So you just sighted loudly to expel the stress from your body.

"What?" Asked Minho, not as asleep than you thought.

For a second you had stood silent before speaking

"Are you not afraid that someone could see us like that?"

"Afraid?" He started without opening his eyes.

"Please Y/N, the train is almost empty. Plus we're in a muggle train, far away from the city, we won't run into one of our classmates.”

“Please understand me, but if a classmate sees us I don’t want my image to be riddled by a slug, who salivate in his sleep.” You laughed.

“F*ck off. I know I’m not drooling. How could someone so perfect like me salivate in his sleep?”

Your snigger made his head move a bit.

A silent had fallen on the conversation, while you were just looking at him,

At his black hair falling on his forehead,

At his cute pink lips,

While your heart was pounding loudly against your rib cage.

"And in the worst case. Just imagine someone sees us. Who cares?"

You hadn't agreed.

Because you didn't believe his words.

And for good reasons.

🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️🧙🏻‍♂️

Three months before the O.W.L.s*,

Minho came to seek help.

You were just having a conversation with your friends when you saw him waving at you from behind a pillar

"Did you heard?" Asked Nagisa.

"Heard what?" You answered, almost wanting to ignore the sight of Minho behind his ridiculous pillar.

"I heard Minho's parents are muggles."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You knew he had tried to hide this fact for so long.

"And so what?" you responded.

Your tone was a bit aggressive.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing Y/N, don't take it wrong. But he is a Slytherin you know..."

"Yes," started Chan. "And Slytherins are not really known for liking muggle-born wizards. And this guy is really famous among them."

"Oh don't worry I trust him, he'll be fine."

An anxious smile still traced your lips.

Your friends had looked at you with big eyes, not sure about what they just heard.

"Y/N, is there something between you two?" Asked Chan.

"What?"

For the first time in five years, you started to think that maybe you two have been a little bit too obvious.

"Yes. You keep talking about this guy like it's your best friend, but we'd never seen you two together you know" added Nagi.

"And when we danced together to Yule Ball, he kept eyeing me quite weirdly... so..." said Chan.

You felt your cheek reddened.

"It's just that... holy shit." You suddenly cursed.

Minho was there, walking toward your group friend since you had ignored him

As always he looked conceited, but his steps were too determined for this situation to be normal

So your heart started to race with panic

you didn't know how to handle the situation

so you just decided to take the bull by the horns

"Could you both... just, wait a minute?"

And without waiting for an answer you headed to the Slytherin boy.

"Minho what the fuck are you doing?"

In your back, you could feel the intense glare of your friends

"Y/N, I need your help."

"Right now? Really?"

"Please. I can't wait. I... I just saw my notes from the last test and I'm freaking out."

You shook your head, not understanding a word of this conversation.

"The O.W.L.s, Y/N. I need your help. To study."

"But Minho it's in 3 months!"

Panicked, he let his hands fall on your arms.

"I know, I know.... but Y/N, you're a good student, and... And you know how my parents will react if they heard I failed. They will be destroyed. So I was hoping you could... tutored me?"

For a moment you saw despair in his eyes, and you felt your heart beat hard in your head.

But this moment was quickly broken.

He had stepped backward, facing the wall and hiding his face under his hand,

Just like a criminal hunted by the police.

Two Slytherin girls then walked beside you, their green robes waving behind their feet.

You sighed.

"Minho are you serious?"

"Shhhhh," he suddenly whispered. "Don't say my name too loudly."

He was looking from each side of the corridor, like a threatened prey.

"Minho are you ashamed of me?"

His eyes suddenly came back to yours.

"What?"

"Is it because I'm a Gryffindor?"

He had rolled his eyes to the sky.

"No Y/N it's just... I already have to deal with my muggle parents identity, so I don't want to..." he fakely started to giggle. “You know I—”

"Stop." You cut with anger. "You know what? I was starting to pity you, and I was really considering helping you. But I don't think it's a good idea."

"Wait. Why?"

He sounded offended as if he wasn’t the one who truly had reasons to be upset.

His black deep eyes looked at you with pain.

"I don't want to deal with the fucking Slytherin stereotype you became Minho. You shouldn't have spent your time having fun, fucking girls and bullying poor children. If you fail to your O.W.L.s, you'll be the only one responsible." Anger was burning inside you.

It was enough.

it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He had stopped breathing.

"From now on, and until you come back to the Minho I used to be friend with, we shouldn't talk anymore.”

Getting ready you mumble your last words. “I guess it won't be really difficult since we officially don't know each other."

You turned to come back to your friends, but he stopped you.

"Wait, Y/N."

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" You answered on a scornful but playful tone.

You were waiting for an apology.

One you’ll never have.

"You... You're really not gonna help me?"

"Excuse me?!" Exclaimed your broken heart.

It was too much.

You wanted to cry.

For the first time in many years you started to wonder if maybe, you weren't really friends.

No, you weren't.

The only time you spoke was during holidays, and even during the last Christmas vacations, you hadn't exchanged a word.

A little silent had nested between you, giving him time to assimilate the pieces of information

And suddenly you saw his face turn into the despising Minho you hated so much.

"How can you be your parents' daughter?" He started.

"That's exactly why you're not a Hufflepuff like them Y/N. In your situation, they would have helped me. Right now I’m sure they would be ashamed of—”

SLAP

His cheek red from your whop, he looked at you with empty eyes.

"It's time for you to grow Minho. Don't ever talk to me again."

He didn't move, his mouth silent and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's it. Go crying in your boyfriend's arms!" He yelled.

During never-ending seconds, his black eyes followed you while you were coming back to your (quite shocked) friends.

And with the calmest voice, your throat was able to give, you answered back.

"No Chan. There's absolutely nothing between us."

Next Chapter >>

* Exam/Diploma wizard pass at the age of 15

#Lee Know #Stray Kids #Fic #Imagine #Reaction #Minho #lee minho #Minhoe #Skz #slytherin au #hogwarts au #AU

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