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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

angry.

| theo nott x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. Theo’s had a long stressful day and is rougher and maybe aftercare & the morning after he was rough with her and she’s trying to reassure him that she’s all good and maybe lead to some soft smut

cw: spanking, d/s, rough sex

“Don’t be angry.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” Theo spat at his best friend.

You looked up, shocked to hear the hateful words from your typically sweet boyfriend.

“I’ve had the worst fucking day and you keep being a prat and irritating me!”

“Makers, Nott, take a breath,” Zabini scoffed, earning a wicked glare.

“You got me in trouble in astronomy, you ass. Best shut your mouth, Zabini.”

Theo slammed his textbook shut and rose from the table, his chair clattering backwards with a loud noise.

His cloak brushed the wooden steps as he went to his dorm, too frustrated to deal with his friends’ badgering.

You sighed, stacking his books with yours, feeling bad for him. He’d had a terrible day, after a bad week, and his temper was understandable.

“What’s up his ass?”

“Leave him alone. He’s just had a bad day. Be kind to Teddy, please,” you answered Draco, who immediately looked guilty at your sweetness.

You carried your things up to Theo’s bedroom, planning to console him. You knocked softly on the door before entering, setting everything down on the desk. Theo was draped over his green velvet chair, looking stormy and volatile.

“My love, what can I do?” You asked softly, shedding your cloak and walking up to him.

“Nothing, sweetheart. I’m not upset with you. I never want you to think that,” he said, wrapping his arms around your hips and burying his face in your abdomen.

You could feel the waves of anger and frustration pouring off of him, and you would do anything to console him. A deep sigh escaped your boyfriend, and you felt bad for him. Your fingers stroked through his curls, trying to soothe him.

“What can I do, Teddy?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Would it help to get some of the frustration out?” You peeled away from him, letting your dress drop to the floor.

“Sweetheart, I can’t be gentle right now,” Theo warned.

“That’s okay. I can take it rough. You can hurt me, Teddy,” you breathed, sinking down onto his lap, wearing just your little cotton panties.

“You’re certain?”

You nodded. Theo hesitated, but he trusted you, knowing you’d never let him use you or take it too far.

“What’s your safeword, sweetheart?”

His strong hands squeezed your thighs, and he gazed up at you, kissing your sternum.

“Black.”

He stood up, his height towering over yours. You peered up at him, shrinking under his stern gaze. Your wrists were taken in one of his large hands, trapped together and leaving you unable to move.

“Need you to be still while I fuck this tight little cunt,” Theo said, his voice several octaves deeper than before.

You didn’t answer, knowing it was unnecessary at this point. His hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging handprint that had you blinking back moisture.

Your back was on the bed, and your knees bent up to your shoulders, leaving you entirely exposed to him. A squeal left your lips when he smacked your cunt, a force behind the blow that almost had your knees closing.

He tapped the head of his cock against your clit, rubbing through your folds and teasing your entrance. Tears were welled in your eyes now, out of need and arousal.

“Fuck!” You cried, dropping your head on the mattress as he slammed into you all at once. Your body struggled to adapt to the stretch, pain shooting through your abdomen as his hips began snapping at a ruthless pace.

“Keep those dirty words out of your pretty mouth,” Theo hissed, pushing two fingers past your lips to keep you from speaking.

He pressed down on your tongue, causing you to gag around him, making your muscles contract around him. Tears were now staining your cheeks, and you tried to ground yourself by sucking on his fingers, the only part of your body you remained in control of.

A low growl erupted from his chest at the action, and he gripped your thigh hard enough to bruise, slamming into your cunt fast and hard. All the angst and irritation came pouring out of him, channeled into fucking you.

Theo swore, dropping his head forward and emptying himself inside of you. You whined around his fingers still in your mouth, and he tugged them out, dropping his hand to rub your clit.

“Theo,” you cried, the stimulation harsh and rough even as he just meant to get you off. Your body convulsed, coming around him as he rutted his hips into yours.

You ached, unused to being handled so roughly. Theo slid out of you carefully, breathing hard, but visibly less upset than before. It stung as he pulled out, causing a whimper to escape your lips.

“Sweetheart,” Theo breathed, brushing the tears off of your cheeks. Worry immediately knit in his brow, and you shook your head, leaning up on shaky arms to kiss him.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you promised, even though you ached.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, kissing the space between your eyes.

“Don’t be.”

“Let me clean you up,” Theo was standing before you could protest, stepping into the ensuite out of your view.

You laid back against the pillows, trying to catch your breath. Theo breathed another apology when you winced as he tried to clean you up.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough,” Theo was distraught, horrified by his own roughness he exhibited with you.

“Theo, my love, I promise that I am alright,” you insisted, and you meant it.

He slipped soft cotton up your legs, kissing the soft skin on your belly, making you laugh. Theo made sure to be extremely gentle as he helped you into one of his shirts, a touristy tee from one of the American cities he had traveled to.

“I love you,” Theo whispered, kissing your cheek and putting a glass of water in your hands as he settled behind you.

“I love you more,” you giggled, snuggling back against his chest and drinking the water while he read aloud from a book. His fingertips gently trailed over your torso under the soft fabric, tracing shapes on your skin as he soothed you to sleep with his low voice.

Theo rolled over in bed, watching you stand on trembling legs.

“Don’t leave me,” Theo’s beg was soft and pathetic, fearing you were running after he’d been too aggressive.

“Oh, no, love. I’m just using the loo,” you kissed his forehead before disappearing, leaving him to relax in the bed.

“I feel terrible.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m all good, just a bit sore,” you tried to assure Theo as you crawled back into the warmth of his bed.

You settled on your side, smiling as he draped your thigh over his. Theo’s hand went to the back of your neck, gently pulling you into a lazy kiss. It quickly turned into a sleepy makeout session, your hands smoothing over the muscles on his abdomen, and his hands under your shirt and the fabric of your underwear, squeezing and palming your bum.

“I need you,” you breathed against his lips, growing wet and aroused.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine as long as you’re gentle. Please just fuck me.”

Theo couldn’t deny you when you begged, and he quickly was tugging his boxers down while you stripped beside him. His hand held under your thigh, pulling it up so he could angle himself to fuck you.

Your forehead rested on his chest as he gently rolled into you, easing the ache between your hips. You exhaled softly, melting into him as he gently thrusted into you at a steady, lazy pace.

You lowered your hand to gently rub your clit as he fucked you, your other fingers tangled in his hair as his mouth swallowed your tiny, pathetic moans.

“I want to feel you come around me, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and pushing all the way inside of you until your hips connected.

“Squeeze that pretty pussy. I just want to feel you let go,” he murmured before lightly teasing your nipples, making the pressure dissolve as you orgasmed.

“Teddy,” you whined, a silent cry catching in your throat as you felt him come all over your inner thighs, making an absolute mess of you.

You dropped your head down onto his shoulder, murmuring a thanks as he cleaned the two of you up with a simple spell. You resigned yourself to lazing the day away in bed, sleeping and making out, spending time with your soft lover.

#earl grey theo #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x reader smut #theodore nott x reader fluff #theo nott x reader fluff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x reader smut #theo nott smut #theo nott fluff #theo nott oneshot #theo nott imagine #golden era #harry potter #female reader

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years

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what if bella from painting red madonnas and canon bella, say post-new moon or maybe even post-eclipse, swapped places?

Anon's referring to Painting Red Madonnas.

The time Bellas and Marcuses swapped at the end of New Moon.

Alright, Post Eclipse, What Happens

PRM Bella

Bella is very confused.

She's back in Forks Washington, living with her father (who is suddenly alive and well), and quickly finds out she's in Hell.

For you see, she's engaged to be married to Edward Cullen in a few weeks' time.

Bella is horrified, terrified, and beyond enraged. This is her personal Hell. She wonders if Edward is holding her family hostage somehow, if the other Bella agreed to this because he'd threatened Charlie's life.

Before she can even find out that they're vampires, she does the one thing she can. She can't protect her father or her mother, but she can ensure Edward never gets what he wants: she flees to Italy.

Alice, of course, sees this decision and thinks Bella's gone mad. She tries to hold an intervention at first privately, then with the entire family.

Rosalie is overjoyed, Bella has decided to be sane and not choose to become a vampire. Then Bella starts talking and accuses Edward of being the lowest, most vile, worm to crawl across the face of the Earth. She also insults Emmett, seemingly out of nowhere (which Rosalie really doesn't like).

Bella demands the wedding is off and says she's going directly to Italy to talk to Marcus.

Well, no one saw that coming.

Edward throws a fit, they can't allow this, something is wrong with Bella and so soon after Jane's appearance it has to be the Volturi. Her loss of memory is not natural! AND NOW SHE'S GOING DIRECTLY TO VOLTERRA?!

Carlisle agrees this is weird but, well, wouldn't she want to see Aro rather than Marcus if that was the case? Mostly he's just very uncomfortable both with all of this and even hinting that Edward would want the wedding to continue without Bella's consent.

Edward promises to make Bella fall in love with him all over again.

Bella breaks her hand on his face.

I imagine eventually Bella badgers Carlisle into calling Aro (despite what happened in Eclipse) who is... very confused but otherwise pleased. Sure, they can incorporate Bella into the guard and turn her in Italy. If that's what she wants who is he to get in the way.

Pity about his son's love life.

Bella goes off to Italy and Edward never quite forgives Carlisle for being fooled by them. He badmouths the Volturi to anyone who asks and vows to visit them himself in the future so as to win Bella back.

(Bella, meanwhile, wonders what's up with Marcus).

Canon Bella

Bella's father has just been eaten by bears.

Now, Bella knows what this means, but she blames James, Victoria, and Laurent. She also has no idea what she's doing in Volterra, why she's supposed to hang around Marcus, and why Carlisle's here alone.

She confronts Carlisle as soon as she can and he gets a very confusing rant of how she has amnesia but has also made up a lot of eeriely accurate memories regarding his family including details such as how he was turned that she absolutely shouldn't know.

Well.

There's an intervention and Aro's not sure how to feel but he guesses since she knows about the secret and seems fine... success? They can turn her?

Bella's all for this but... she doesn't want to hang around the Volturi, she wants to see Edward and go home.

Aro explains she can't go home and as for Edward...

Bad idea.

Bella learns that in this universe, it's highly likely Edward just ate her father.

That Edward, in fact, hates her.

This isn't news to Bella as she flashes back to her first Biology class. Where he did hate her. This is just the world where he never got to come back to school and get to know and fall in love with her.

Bella's horrified.

She's a horrified, blubbering, mess who is then turned into a vampire.

Marcus gets to help her through the emotional turmoil and promises to help her meet Edward if she wants. But only if Renata, Jane, or Alec is with her along with Marcus himself.

I imagine they do this eventually and... it's not good.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #carlisle cullen #aro #marcus #painting red madonnas #meta #headcanon #opinion

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

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Genshin: Roommate HCs [V1]

To be honest, I just wanted to ramble some more and let my brainworms take over. This is sorta late but Happy Valentine’s everyone! I was gonna post this earlier but this honestly took me a long time to write so I moved it to today.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. Seriously, as much as I love writing this non-serious fics. Why do you people like this?

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Based off my ramblings with Keqing anon: Link

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @kaechu @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @rokipersonal@minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact

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Diluc

What? Diluc has a roommate? Did you blackmail him in living with you? Is that even possible? Did you throw yourself in front of his car because you needed someone to pay for your student loans and the easiest way was to file a lawsuit? In this economy no one would blame you. Diluc seems like such the self-isolated character that would murder his roommate in cold blood but in reality, he act’s detached from the world because he forgot how to socialize and he’s desperately trying to cover it up without choking. That or he’s trying to learn how to astral project. If he could drink away the pain he would but instead he buys 20 packs of grape Kool-Aid and injects it into his veins.

Does not and will not ever have a normal sleeping schedule. You’ll wake up to him working, come back home to him working, and will sleep to him still working. His daily dose of Vitamin D is from the brightness of his screen rather than the sun and he’s filter feeding at this point. It’s concerning. He’s going to crumble and he’s bringing the world down with him. Through the power of tax evasion. But as soon as he needs to walk out into society, he pulls movie magic and looks like perfection. It’s both physically and mentally disgusting.

He’s actually is a really nice roommate to have just so long as you give him space. Great cook and knows to clean up after himself. Though he does have crash and burn days where’s he’s completely out of commission. You could set the entire apartment on fire and he would sleep through it. The entire two weeks are dedicated to zombie eye marathons and then he’ll suddenly collapse and sleep for 46 hours straight. When he wakes up from his hibernation he’s the most groggy and nonsensical person. His life blood is coffee because you keep hiding the 5 hour energy away from him because, you know, life is enjoyable and those cancer bottles will actually kill him.

“University sucks our money out of our bodies faster than our will to live.”

Beidou [Happy Birthday Queen 💕]

Despite her appearance, she’s actually really strong and it scares the piss out of you when you’re doing something or scrolling through your phone mindlessly and you suddenly get your spine re-arranged when she slaps you on the back to ask what you’re doing. Likewise, when she hoists you up and throws you over her shoulder so you come with her on her 3am convivence store raids for alcohol. It’s either you change now or else we’re walking out of the apartment in your t-shirt and no pants self. She can and will carry you under her arm that way. It’s both incredibly attractive and horrifying at the same time.

She’s really friendly and a great talker if you’re alright with her “I must hold you in my arms, fresh prince of bel air style”. It doesn’t matter if you’re taller than her, she’s doing it. She does however, get in a bit of trouble from her rowdiness and you often get noise complaints but Beidou just passes them off to Ningguang and everything is fixed. She has ovaries of steel when neighbors rather confront her personally and she’s ready to 1v1 in the parking lot. You’re trying to desperately hold onto her shirt to stop her from pile driving your neighbors for the third time this week but she’s too strong.

She’s constant party until we die attitude and suffers the hangover in the morning. It’s actually really funny to catch her in her hangover moods because whatever filter Beidou had, which is none, is gone. She really takes “cursing like a sailor” or the next level and the amount of creativity she comes up with is actually impressive. She can be a bit messy but she’s really likeable and always down to go anywhere with you as long as you’ll do the same. It’s a very ride together, we die together situation. You’re my best friend, you’re dying with me. I’ll see you in hell.

“Imma T pose over my dad and then crash the car into the parking garage.”

Kaeya

Kaeya on the surface seems like such a chill roommate. And he is for the most part. But he’s such an ass. Your things are his things, no questions asked. If you just bought a really nice sweater or you had leftover food, that’s his now. He’s innocent until proven guilty even if he’s literally holding your lunch. The pure amount of bullshit he can spit out to convince you that no, he did not pull the fire alarm because he wanted an excuse for not going to work, puts him on Shakespeare level. He’s also very pretty, way too pretty, sir can you share some of your genes?

But aside from that, he’s actually super dependable. You forgot something at home? Sure, he has nothing better to do so he can bring them for you. We’re missing eggs? No problem, he’s just by the store. You’re 95% sure that he just wants to be cheeky and make you thank him for 20 minutes before he actually hands you what you asked for. It’s better for you if you never tell him anything you’re afraid of because Kaeya has no social cues, or more like he throws them out the window, and he’s probably a psychopath.

He’s incredibly private of his room and things despite his attitude towards yours. You’re convinced he either has a secret lab or that’s where he’s storing the bodies. I was the good guy but due to unfortunate circumstances, I need to stab a bitch. But he’s a really good serious talker for those 3am, because everything happens at 3am, talks about life and the meaning of the universe. It absolutely wrecks your sleep schedule but some of the things you talk about are the most crackhead things like what’s the lowest amount of money someone would have to pay you to walk outside without clothes? It’s a legitimate question.

“Never before have I been so offended with something I 100% agree with.”

Jean

Okay, what world did you save in a past life to live with his absolutely wonderful woman? Mother Teresa take a load off, take a seat. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll bring home little treats back home and it’s the most wholesome thing ever?? Is this what love and affection feels like? We’ve been starved for so long. She says it’s not a big deal and anyone would do it BUT THE MOMENT SOMEONE BUYS FOOD FOR YOU. IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT. They are forever stuck in your will until proven otherwise. An absolute ray of sunshine that must be protected.

She does get super busy so you don’t often see each other or get to hang out as much. She’s a bit of a workaholic but a lot more easier to talk her into taking a break. She’s also a pretty decent cook but she prefers baking and jesus christ, girl can you calm down? Be still my beating heart, I’ve been smitten. Has mother hen vibes that you’re not sure if she’s your roommate or if she adopted you into her family. It’s time to start a petition for the Jean protection squad. Given the opportunity, I would aggressively hold your hand.

She’s always open to whatever you want to do. Any recommendations or things that you like she will try out at least once despite her busy schedule. She’s lowkey lonely because work consumes her so any time you want to hang out or do something together, she jumps on it like she’s feral. She get’s a bit shy to ask if she can join in on your plans because she doesn’t want to bother you or intrude no matter how many times you tell her that’s okay, she still get’s a bit iffy about it. Please save this girl before she trips. In your arms. Platonically. Just kidding haha. Unless?

“I can’t wait to see you happy and not hating everyone again haha.”

Childe

First impressions of Childe were great, until he opened his mouth and you realized how much of a two brain cell child(e) he was. He has two braincells because they constantly have to 1v1 in his brain. He’s lived with a lot of siblings so he has no social awareness or concept of privacy that you’re lucky if you come home and he’s half-dressed. It doesn’t matter if you’re 2 weeks older than him, he’s going to call you 82 years old and why your bones aren’t being fossilized at this point. He’s such a little shit, this fucker licks the yogurt lid peel.

He get’s really restless when he’s stuck under house arrest, because apparently 1v1ing in the parking lot of a Wendy’s is illegal for some reason, so he makes dying whale noises until he get’s to go outside again. But he’s actually a really wholesome guy, probably because of his younger siblings, that he’ll sometimes get you something because you seemed down and it’s such whiplash? Who is this man and where did he come from? You’re starting to have a change of heart before he tells you that he got banned from the library for accidently punching the school’s computer. How you “accidently” punch something you have no idea but Childe always comes home with some sort of injury. Maybe he’s just incredibly clumsy. For your sanity, you’re going to go with that.

He’s actually so uncultured that it’s crippling. You can’t blame him too much considering his upbringing and it’s great that he’s so interested in learning new things but...child no...It makes you want to take your spine out of your ass and rip it like a Beyblade. Watching him take chopsticks and stab his food like it’s marshmallows makes you want to fall into a blackhole and let the chair consume you.

“I, too, fantasize about beating the living shit out of people.”

---

Is this another tag yourself game cause I resonate with Diluc. I’m crying in insomnia. As much as I enjoy writing these fics I absolutely hate tagging them. I remember I used to have a tag anon but that was back when I wrote for bnha.

Valentine’s Day was fun tho. I had a drinking game with friends as we played league then ended it off with a movie night.

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do like a short story post or something I wonder how Our General Kirigan would react to a shy reader? Would he tease her? Be frustrated with her? And how would she react? Idk maybe just a thought 😅 I asked you because i really like your writing and I feel like you would really do a good job and I like the way you portray the General. 😊

a/n i have been crying/feeling shitty for the past two days for no reason!! so i thought it might make me feel better to try writing headcanons! i have SO MANY half done requests/fics but as of recently i hate everything that i write!! so i thought i'd work on this request that lends itself to headcanons

also im glad you like my writing :))

General Kirigan with a shy! reader headcanons:

- First things first, I think how he interacts with someone shy that he sees as a (potential) romantic interest varies per situation. Like generally, he finds the timidness kind of soft which is so different from what he's used to that he finds that aspect kind of endearing.

- He'd never admit that at the beginning, but the more time you spend with him the clearer it becomes to you because of how he acts when you're alone together

- At first, he'd hold onto his usual stoic disposition, but after realizing that at the end of the day your shyness is genuine and not an attempt to seem meek in order to trick people/him he'd begin to tease you about it when you two are alone.

- The first time he makes a comment that's just a little,, kinda-almost suggestive (a comment about how he wonders what it'd be like to be a Heartrender so that he could hear the change in your heartbeat every time you shied away from something) you're too confused to be embarrassed for like two seconds.

- You're basically that meme that's like did I hear that shit righttt??

- So you meet his gaze, and there's absolutely nothing but warm confidence there and you realize that he had in fact,,, said that.

- You hold his gaze for a moment out of protest (which is an incredible feat) and then you have to drop your eyes to the floor. You mumble some comment about how his ability to summon shadows isn't exactly a boring skill.

- Your reaction is so soft,, Kirigan can't help but be endeared even further. Something he wasn't exactly expecting and isn't too thrilled about. He doesn't think being shy makes you weak,, but he's extremely wary about how you're perceived and how people may treat you because of it.

- He doesn't doubt his ability to protect you, but he doesn't want to be distracted,, not with all he has to do.

- Still, he can't help mumble comments whenever there's a brief pause and you two are alone

- Meanwhile, you're starting to notice that now more situations keep coming up when you're left alone with Kirigan?? like he's always in the library when you are, he's always walking in to assess training when you're training and he just so happens to linger until you leave and then he just so happens needs to walk in the same hallway.

- It's a little strange at first,, but you're more horrified by the fact that you're not mad about it than the fact that it's happening. Especially since you know how much joy he gets from getting you flustered. You can see that in that slightly cocky uptilt to his lips whenever you're left gaping at him.

- Why doesn't it bother you?? You try to rationalize it and the only conclusion you can come to is the fact that he's attractive and powerful and even though your face gets hot whenever he talks to you,, there's appeal in those qualities. There's appeal in getting the infamous General to smile.

- Even if it costs you the bit of pride you have.

- You don't get why you're the one he seems to be going out of his way to speak to (maybe when your life is as stressful as his is,, at the end of the day you just want something easy and if he's in the mood to be flirty, you're easy) but you're not mad. You just have to constantly remind yourself to not be foolish enough to think you're the only one he goes out of his way to talk to.

- And as time progresses, you get a little more comfortable with his banter. You stop shying away completely,, which only encourages him to get bolder with his comments.

- Nothing insane,, not yet, just a little more direct.

- It kind of becomes a little game to him,, to see how flustered he can get you with the minimal amount of effort. Every once in awhile, you manage to act normally, but he's quick to shut that down by upping his game just slightly.

- After awhile, it starts to become a game for you too, to see how much of your instincts you can suppress just to take away some of his satisfaction. Only when he's getting a little too smug.

- But that's when y'all are alone...

- When you're surrounded by others, sometimes it feels like you don't even exist to each other. Sometimes that's a lonely feeling for both of you, but each of you is convinced that they're the only one that feels the absence.

- In your defense, you're much more entitled to those feelings because he can literally do whatever he wants. You can't just walk up to the General and do what?? ask him why he hasn't made any suggestive comment in the last couple of hours??

- please that embarrassing!! even if you weren't shy, that would be out of POCKET

- Meanwhile Kirigan is just like being angsty and debating the implications of seeking you out in an environment with so many important people. He could probably manage a minute or two by your side without making anyone suspicious, but the danger in that is that he won't be able to bring himself to leave after those minutes pass him.

- Worse,, he may even find an excuse for both of you to step out into the hall so that he can make his comments and take in your reactions in private.

- It's especially difficult when you have that one strand of hair just slightly out of place,, presenting the perfect excuse for him to just fix it and then drop his hand slowly so that his fingertips can brush the side of your cheek.

- And you're growing tired of the crowds of people you're not comfortable with and you're starting to feel more and more stupid for letting something that was so clearly just a playful distraction mean anything to you.

- But before either of you can succumb to your angsty pinning (cough, cough,, simps) his eyes will find yours from across the room and that's EVERYTHING

- At first, you want to be stiff and look away because it's probably not intentional, but then he gives you that little smirk. And then you feel stupid for ever doubting that you two at least have some kind of friendship. (maybe more,, but you're too scared to let yourself think that,, ;))

- And then you give him this shy smile,, and that's it. He's done--that one look undoes him entirely.

- So he starts shifting towards you as casually as possible, because if he can't be with you right now, surely being near you is good enough for now.

- You're unaware of this,, and when the moment ends you find yourself longing for more, but relatively satisfied. You don't expect anything from him, he's important and you're you.

- And being around people drains you because you genuinely want to stay out of any situation that would have too much attention on you at once. So once Kirigan moves and you can't find him in the crowd, you decide now is as good a time as any to step out and get some air, especially since no one currently needs you for anything.

- So you disappear into the corridor, planning to be gone only for a few minutes. But the second you're about two steps into the hallway, you hear another's footsteps.

- The hopeful part of you is like 'maybe it's him!!' but you don't really think that. There's something about the atmosphere that feels too tense,, too wrong for you to believe it's him.

- A moment later, your suspicions are confirmed. A grisha known for his impulsiveness is calling out to you, asking you where you're going.

- You explain that you just wanted to get some air and that you'd be returning in a minute. You try to sound dismissive, clearly establishing that you'd like your minute to yourself.

- It's clear that he understands the hint, but he doesn't move. He just keeps asking you questions.

- Your answers get shorter and shorter, the nerves your feeling tensing with each word as he begins to venture from falsely casual conversation to more flirtatious words. Being shy can leave you speaking too much, spluttering out words in hopes of saying the right thing to let you escape, but this is a different type of nervousness. Something feels wrong.

- And he just keeps saying things, things that even Kirigan wouldn't be able to get away with.

- All the while, you're desperate to escape, but they're persistent.

- And just when you're losing hope, and his advances get so bold he has you literally backed into a corner--a familiar voice comes to you like a lifeline.

- Kirigan, with all the authority of the general, questions what's going on. The guy that was so relentlessly hitting on you moves back like suddenly you're fire and begins to back away. He tries to explain himself but Kirigan is not having it.

- As soon as the stranger leaves, you feel like you can breathe again, but your nerves are still on edge. Kirigan's looking at you in a way you've never seen before. Sharp and almost--almost angry?

- You try to mumble a quick thanks, intending to disappear back to where you're supposed to be, but Kirigan's gaze keeps you planted against the wall.

- His gaze is so intense you ask him if he's alright.

- The question cracks something in him because of course you'd ask him if he's okay after something happened to you. His expression softens slightly, which you think is a good thing but then he speaks,, and his voice is not calm at all

- He's mad at the person that did that and the irrational part of him makes it seem like he's a little mad at you for letting that situation happen, but it's only because he's worried about what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time.

- And you're kind of confused because like?? what does he want from you? you made it clear you were uncomfortable and you were trying to get away?

- But after a quick snap and the fact that you're okay settles in,, he does feel a little bad. So he comes close to apologizing,, but that's basically just him saying he's glad that you're okay.

- You don't really ease, so he decides to make a partial joke about how maybe he needs to be around you more,, just to be safe,, you know

- And you smile slightly, and you're like 'y'know i'm not completely helpless.'

- and he's like 'pity,, i would've liked the excuse'

- your face instantly feels extremely warm and you're not sure what you could even, plausibly say to that. But you can't let him have the last word,, not like that. So you're overcompensating, rambling, but then at the end...you say something about how he doesn't really need an excuse to stay near you.

- When you realize what you've said, fight or flight kicks in,, but you can't move. And there's no casual way to escape, so you decide that maybe you'll cut your losses for today because that might have been your most significant reply to him ever, and you feel like an idiot because he was probably joking. And you just had to say that and make it weird.

- So you allow exactly one second of unfortunate silence, your eyes glued to the ground. And then you make some excuse about needing to get back to where you were.

- But Kirigan stops you, and you think about how you can't avoid looking him in the eyes forever, so you just kind of barely dare to glance upwards.

- And he's smiling broader than usual, the look is so warm it melts away all the bad feelings from earlier. You have absolutely no idea what it means, but you know it's not...bad.

- And then he shifts slightly, and that's when you realize he's never been this close before.

- He then asks if you're sure, voice much lower than earlier.

- You can't speak,, too trapped on a line you don't understand.

- But as he leans forward, the only answer he needs is the instinctual part of your lips as his warm breath reaches your cheek.

- And with that he turns his head just a fraction of an inch,, and his lips meet yours.

- It's just a quick brush of lips,, a soft test. And when you don't protest, he moves to let the contact be a little more assured, yet still teasing.

- Something in you grows impatient, and you move a little in hopes that he'll take the hint.

- But that's all it takes for him to pull away, expression bright and teasing before playfully chiding you for being so eager.

- He then turns, leaving you more flustered than ever.

#request #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #aleksander morovoza #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morovoza x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #netflix shadow and bone #sab #sab imagine

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darthfrodophantom · 3 years

Text

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Ouija Board

Summary: To get into the spooky season spirit, Tucker and Sam convince Danny to play a video game late at night, and Danny isn’t pleased about the subject of the video game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34303123

Too Close to Home

“Let me get this straight,” Danny interrupted. “I fight ghosts - real ghosts - on a nightly basis. And now that I actually have a free night you want to take up the time that I should be sleeping to fight fake ghosts?”

He shook his head as he looked at his computer screen, the only light in his entire bedroom aside from the digital clock that showed the hour: 11:45. From the first-person view of the computer game on his screen, he watched the avatars of both of his friends attempt to throw basketballs into a hoop.

“But this is way more fun,” Tucker’s voice said over Danny’s headset. “And it hurts a lot less! Ah! Dang it Sam - you messed up my throw!”

Sam cackled triumphantly. “Better pay more attention to your timing then.”

Tucker groaned as his avatar abandoned the basketball for spray paint cans, which he chucked at Sam. “Besides Danny, we’re not fighting ghosts: we’re hunting them.”

“Fine, fight, hunt, whatever. I still do both of them,” Danny argued.

“Not like this you don’t,” Tucker grinned. “God he’s gonna get creamed.”

“You know Danny, maybe we should let you go to bed. You’re gonna ruin my perfect streak,” Sam teased.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’ll actually do better because you have a true ghost hunting professional on the team,” he defended. He had no idea why he was bragging - he’d just been given an out and given the late hour he should take it, but now it felt like he needed to defend his pride as a ghost hunter. …That thought sounded a little too similar to something his parents would say and he quickly dismissed it. “Besides, I played the tutorial, I know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure out why we’re doing this.”

“Because it’s spooky season,” Tucker replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We are only five days into October, Tucker, and if you’re gonna keep doing this all month I am going to hit you with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick,” Sam threatened.

“I dunno, it might be worth it,” Tucker teased. “What do you think Danny?”

Danny shook his head, even though none of them could see it. “As the only person in this group who has actually been hit by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, I would back off,” he advised.

“Listen to Danny Tucker,” Sam chuckled as her avatar walked over to the white board to set up the hunt. “He’s actually speaking wisdom for once. Now come over here and pick out your gear.”

The playful teasing between best friends stopped as they actually got serious and picked out the gear they would need for their mission. Since Danny had no money, he couldn’t really participate in the conversation, but it seemed like Tucker and Sam had played this enough to know what they needed to bring. Sam started the mission, and their avatars found themselves inside the trailer looking at another whiteboard.

“Alright, looks like our ghost is named Thomas Clark and he responds to all of us,” Sam informed the group while Tucker’s avatar walked over to the shelves to equip supplies.

“Well that’s a dumb name for a ghost,” Danny complained as he looked at the bulletin board next to the computer. He had to squint at his screen to read them, but the articles were fairly legible and contained ghost stories he remembered hearing his parents talk about. It also had a recent article that he actually remembered running in USA Today proclaiming Amity Park as the most haunted city in the world - he didn’t know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. “He should have gone with Thomas Phantom instead.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, now that sounds like a proper ghost,” Tucker added between laughs.

“I knew I was going to hate this,” Danny groaned under his breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam’s avatar turned to face the new whiteboard. “Alright, fine. Objective one: find out what kind of ghost we’re dealing with - standard. Objective two: witness a ghost event.”

“I am a ghost event,” Danny smirked, causing Tucker to burst out laughing again.

“Objective three,” Sam snapped, “capture a photo of the ghost.”

Tucker’s avatar grabbed a camera and snapped a picture of Danny’s avatar. “Got one!” he proclaimed, which drove both boys into laughter.

“Objective four,” Sam said louder, “get a ghost to walk through salt.”

“What? That’s dumb. Everyone knows that’s an old wive’s tale,” Danny complained as he shook his head. Did the creators of this game actually do any real research before they made this game?

“Are you regretting this yet Sam?” Tucker asked as he finally stopped laughing.

“Let’s just get in the house,” she groaned. Danny smirked in triumph, and he could tell Tucker was sharing a similar smirk on his end.

They divided up equipment between the three of them, but not before Danny could comment on the inaccuracies of each of the pieces of equipment and how useless they’d be in an actual ghost fight. From faulty science to just being plain incorrect, Danny made sure to have pithy comments about all the equipment. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that it had to be accurate - he was not his parents - but as a ghost and a ghost hunter, it just felt a little more personal than he wanted to admit.

Because he was the newest one, Danny got stuck with the Spirit Book (“What? Are they trying to imply all ghosts can’t write? That’s alivist!”) and the EMF Reader (“...Okay that one’s actually accurate”) because they were apparently the easiest to use. Laden down with their gear they walked up to the small house. Sam’s avatar unlocked the door and they headed inside. Danny noticed the tonal shift immediately. Outside he could hear wind and crickets chirping, but once he stepped inside the doorway, an oppressive silence covered his headphones. It reminded him of the sensation on a pressurised airplane and it unnerved and unsettled him...a lot more than he planned to admit to his friends.

“Alright, spread out,” Sam instructed. “See if you can find the ghost room.”

Ghost room, right. He remembered that from the tutorial. It had been the garage in the tutorial, so he figured he should start there. He walked back through the dark house, turning lights on as he went. It wasn’t because he was scared - absolutely not, he was a real ghost hunter! - it was just much easier to see. He pulled out the EMF reader and walked into the garage. It had an eerie quality to it, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered seeing the ghost there last time (a mean looking (and inaccurate) ghost covered in blood and holding an axe) or if it was because he was alone and the room was so large, but he did not like being in here.

“You know, in the tutorial, the ghost was a bloody axe-man,” Danny remarked over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I think he’s standard in the tutorial,” Sam remarked offhand. He did not want to admit how good it felt to hear her voice in the oppressive silence of the house. They were clearly focused on their tasks, and that was a good thing, but it felt a lot better hearing their voices.

“Red blood,” he continued, simply to trigger more conversation. He didn’t get any EMF readings, so he gratefully left the garage. “Not ectoplasm. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“Ugh, Danny, they’re going for a horror aesthetic, not something real,” Sam sighed.

“What? Ectoplasm-stains are horrifying,” he countered as he walked through the rest of the first story. Still no EMF readings.

“Only when it’s yours,�� Sam said, and the weight of those words echoed in the silence of the house that made him stop moving for a moment. “No cold spots upstairs,” Sam informed them to break the silence.

“Yeah, no EMF downstairs,” Danny added. “I’m gonna check out the basement.” That’s where they loved to hang out in the real world, so it seemed the next best choice.

“Oh hang on, if you’re going down there I’ll go with you,” Tucker spoke up.

Danny stopped halfway down the stairs. “It’s fine, I’m pretty used to basements,” he joked weaky.

“Yeah, well the last time you went into a basement alone with untested ghost equipment you died.” Tucker said it light-heartedly as a joke, and it was one they’d said a bunch of times before, but somehow it just didn’t feel the same in this tense environment. It felt too...personal.

He waited for Tucker’s avatar to appear before they walked down the stairs together into the basement. Unlike Sam’s basement or his own, this basement had a much creepier feel to it, with the foreboding worn brick walls and discolored cement flooring. Honestly he was glad Tucker went down there with him because it just felt better having another person there.

“Sam, maybe you should get down here with the thermometer,” Tucker mentioned as they both walked through the basement. “Because we’re not--”

Danny whirled around as he heard something thud hard against the ground behind him while he jumped in his chair. The EMF reader in his hand jumped up to three dots and blared at them while he stared at a box of tools now on the ground. The ghost was clearly in the room. Danny half-expected his ghost sense to go off, but he had to remind himself it was just a video game. There wasn’t actually a ghost here.

“What happened?” Sam’s urgent voice said over the walkies.

“Ghost knocked something off the shelf down here,” Tucker said as his avatar walked over to the toolbox. “Ooh! We’ve got fingerprints!” he cheered as his avatar shined a light on a glowing handprint.

“Oh that’s so not how that works,” Danny complained, just to help lighten the mood. Honestly he felt a bit jumpy knowing that the ghost was in the room...and he couldn’t sense him. He’d dealt with invisible ghosts before, but his ghost sense always gave him a vague idea of where they were...except for now. He turned in his chair to check the room behind him. No ghosts, no ghost sense. It’s just in the computer game.

“Figures that the ghost would be in the basement,” Sam remarked as her avatar walked down the stairs and opened her journal. Right! Journal. Danny opened his and placed their one piece of evidence inside. The sooner they got all of those the sooner they could leave, and he really liked that idea.

“I’m not seeing freezing temperatures, but it is a little cooler than the rest of the house,” she continued. “So let’s start setting stuff up in here. Tucker get the DOTS up and I’ll place the camera. Danny place the spirit book.”

Okay, this wasn’t so bad with the three of them in the room. He could hear them moving around and he could see them, so it made him feel a bit better. And there was still no sign of the ghost. He put the spirit book down near the toolbox and looked away from it. Maybe the ghost wouldn’t write in it while he was watching? He didn’t know.

“Ooh!” Tucker cried excitedly.

“Did you see it in the DOTS?” Sam asked.

“No - Ouija board! Oh yeah!” Tucker cheered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh I love these,” Sam agreed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. Why were they acting so happy - didn’t they forget there was a ghost in this room with them?

“Hang on, let Danny try the Ouija board,” Tucker suggested. “You know, because he’s never seen it before.”

“Ooh good idea,” Sam agreed. Danny walked over to where they were and saw Sam’s avatar set down a light brown board.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sus about your motives right now,” Danny said. He had a bad feeling about this...

“No Danny, it’s fine. These are actually pretty cool in this game,” Sam assured him. She quickly explained how the Ouija boards worked in the game and what questions to ask, and against his better judgment, he walked over and activated the board. The numbers and letters glowed orange against the light color of the wood.

He decided to start with something easy, so he swallowed and forced his voice to come out clear. “How old are you?” He jumped in his chair and his avatar backed up quickly as the planchette moved across the letters.

“Y - O - U - N - G,” Tucker read. “A young ghost.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s the crawling baby ghost,” Sam sighed. “I really hate that one.”

“Ask it something else,” Tucker encouraged.

“I don’t know,” Danny hedged. For some reason the Ouija board set him on edge. Something deep in his gut did not like this. Even if it wasn’t real and he kept telling himself it wasn’t real, he didn’t like it.

“No dude, it’s okay,” he assured him. “You can ask two questions before a significant sanity drop. Just ask it one more and you can go back to the truck.”

He very much wanted to go back to the truck. He just needed a chance to regroup. He was a ghost and fought ghosts for a living and he could not understand why this game unnerved him so much. But Danny Phantom wasn’t scared of ghosts, any kind of ghosts, and he wasn’t about to show it on a video game. “Fine,” he groaned as he picked up the board again. “Who died?”

This time he knew what to expect, and didn’t jump as much as the planchette started moving. First to the D, then to the A. Over to the N, then looping back to the N. It ended on a Y.

All three of them stopped moving. The silence became even more deafening around them. Danny dropped the Ouija board and backed up as far as the game would let him. He felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Danny. It spelled Danny. How did it know his name?

“...That has got to be a coincidence,” Sam finally said after the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“The ghost’s name must be Danny,” Tucker suggested, voice full of forced bravado.

“...No it’s Thomas,” Sam said slowly. “It must just be reading your username to scare you,” she decided.

“No my...my username is GhostBoy,” Danny reminded them, finally feeling like he could speak.

“Is this game actually haunted? Danny, what did you do?” Tucker accused, voice bordering on hysterics.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Danny yelled back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He put a hand up to feel his breath - still normal temperature. He looked around his room. There wasn’t a ghost here. But how did it know his name? And that he did almost die in a basement? “You’re the one that told me to use it!”

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Sam interrupted. “It’s gotta be a coincidence. Let me try it and see if it says the same thing or gives me my name. It could be a new update that checks the name on the Steam account or something.”

Sam moved closer to the board, but before she could touch it all their flashlights flickered.

“Shit!” Tucker yelled.

“Run!” Sam cried in a panic.

Danny followed them up the stairs to the main level. The idea of running from a ghost, not fighting it, was so foreign to him, but he had no choice. He was powerless here. No ghost powers, no weapons, no thermos. He was completely helpless against this ghost.

He bolted for the garage, the one other room he knew how to get to. Sam’s avatar was running next to him. He could hear footsteps behind him and he swore as he ran towards the garage. Sam diverted into another room, but he continued into the garage. He found a locker he’d opened before and rushed into it. He barely remembered to turn off his flashlight and he waited. Seconds passed and he realized he was holding his breath. No...not holding his breath. Not breathing. He looked down at his hands and saw the glowing white gloves. When...when did he change into his ghost form?

Sam’s voice over the walkie startled him. “What the--? Oh my G--” The walkie feed cut to static and then nothing.

“I...I think it got Sam,” Tucker’s voice said over the walkie. Danny turned on his flashlight and saw that it was no longer blinking. He threw his head back in relief. The hunt was over. He climbed back out of his locker, keeping the door open again just in case.

“Dude, she was running right next to me. It must have followed her instead of me,” Danny told him. “Ugh, well what are we going to do now? She’s the only one who knew what she was doing!”

“Wait, I thought you would be a pro because you’re a ‘professional ghost hunter’ - isn’t that what you kept saying?” Tucker teased.

“Yeah, well I lied! This is nothing like ghost hunting!” he argued as he walked out of the garage. He was going back to the trailer. “Real ghost hunters would bring some kind of weapon and wouldn’t just run around helpless! We should just call it.”

“What? No! We’ve got two more pieces of evidence to collect. And we haven’t done any of the objectives! Tucker retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped as he walked down the main hallway. “if you want to keep looking for clues you can, but I’m going back to the trailer to check--”

The front door slammed shut. His flashlight blinked again.

“Shit!” Tucker cried.

Danny could hear the footsteps behind him. He could feel a heart thumping in his headset. He started running off to a room but stopped. No, he was not running again. He was going to stare this ghost down and prove that Danny Phantom was not scared of some ghost. His image struck fear in the hearts of ghosts and his name carried respect in the Ghost Zone. He was not going to let some video game ghost get the better of him and spook him with some Ouija board trick.

He turned around to face it, camera at the ready. If he was going down, he was getting a picture of it. The ghost blinked in the hallway and Danny saw the cause of his anxiety for the first time. The ghost floated down the hallway, with white hair and a black and white jumpsuit. It...it was him. The ghost was Phantom.

He completely forgot to take a picture as his own image rushed at him. He saw two gloved hands cover over the screen and then everything went dark. He heard the crash of breaking glass, saw a strange underground cavern for a second, and then he was back in a foggy blue version of the house.

The ghost of Sam’s avatar approached him, and he heard her laughing over the headset. It sounded like she’d been laughing for awhile. “Oh my god Danny, did you see the ghost?” she asked between laughs.

“It...that was...oh my God,” he groaned. It all made sense. Spelling Danny was likely an Easter egg, a cute nod to his name of Danny Phantom. The fact that it happened in the basement was just a coincidence, because it’s a creepy spot and a commonly haunted area. He hadn’t summoned anything. He wasn’t being targeted by some ghost in the computer. It was just an Easter egg paying homage to him.

Suddenly all the stress left him and he laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh after all that panic. This game had gotten him so worked up and over what? Over a ghost that looked like himself? Suddenly it all seemed so silly that it scared him that much. He had felt actual dread and fear, enough to trigger an unconscious transformation out of a need to protect himself, but there weren’t actually any real consequences. Now he just got to walk around unhindered in this ghostly version of the house, but nothing else actually happened.

Sam laughed along with Danny. “So you did see it then?”

“It was...oh my god Sam it was me! It looked just like me!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “As soon as I saw it I forgot to keep running and stared. So of course it killed me. I did get a picture though,” she bragged.

“Oh man. I meant to, but I was just too stunned.” Now that he felt much better, he decided to wander around the house following Tucker who, for some reason, was still trying to finish the level on his own.

Sam suspiciously stopped her laughing. “Wait...Danny, your voice sounds weird. Are you...are you in your ghost form?”

Danny bit his lip as a slight blush graced his cheeks. “I don’t want to hear it.” But the telltale whoosh of the glowing rings turning him back to his human form seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. Except, he didn’t hear her laugh.

“...Danny, I wanted to apologize,” she said, and that made Danny stop moving and look quizzically at the screen.

“What? Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For goading you into playing this game,” she clarified, her voice surprisingly serious. “While I’ve been hanging out here in the spirit world, I realized why this game set you off so much.”

“What do you mean? I never said it set me off,” Danny defended. How could she possibly know that? He thought he was playing it pretty cool.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re in your ghost form and you were panicking after the Ouija board thing.”

“Hey you would panic too if--”

“Danny I’m trying to say that I get it,” she interrupted. “Being near a ghost without your powers? Without any weapons? Being powerless? It’s one of your biggest nightmares, that your powers will fail when you need them. And this game, it’s too close to home.”

Danny stopped moving and stared at the screen, because she was absolutely right. This was too close to home. How many times did he have to check to make sure his ghost sense wasn’t actually going off? How many times did he keep thinking about how similar everything felt to his own experiences? How unnerved he was about a ghost in the basement? It was too similar to his real life...except he had the tools he needed in his real life. Not a flashlight and some dumb spirit book, but actual real tools and powers and weapons, but here they were all taken away from him. Everything he relied on to fight ghosts had been stripped from him in the game and trapped him helpless in a house with his friends. Of course that bothered him. It was, as Sam said, one of his more recurring nightmares.

“...Yeah I think I’m good never playing this game again,” Danny admitted, the closest he planned to get to acknowledging everything she said was true.

“Honestly? I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed softly. “I think it’s easier for us because we’re used to this role: when there’s a ghost in the area, we help figure out what’s going on and support you. It’s not all that different from this game,” she explained. Her ghostly avatar followed Tucker out of the house and he followed after them. “But when you’re used to doing the fighting and defending and can’t...I guess it’s probably harder to separate yourself from the game.”

He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was too similar to his daily life, and as he tried to argue at the beginning, he didn’t need to hunt fake ghosts poorly when he knew how to fight real ghosts well. “You know you sound like Jazz,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Wow, you’re going to insult me after I tried to help you?” Sam scoffed. “See if I ever help you again!”

Danny smiled at the screen, glad to be back to the teasing. He definitely felt more relaxed and more like himself. “Oh look, Tucker’s finally calling it quits,” Danny observed as Tucker closed the door to the trailer.

“God, I can’t wait to find out if he saw you.” He could hear her grinning through the headset and honestly he felt the same. Out of all of them, Tucker would be the most excited about this addition.

The screen changed over to the menu screen, showing all their accomplished objectives. It also meant that all three party members could talk to each other again. “I can’t believe you left me!” Tucker complained. “It’s even worse when you’re in there on your own! Do you know how much more evidence we needed to collect? Um, a ton!”

Sam laughed, and Danny had to join in. “Okay so we are sorry about that, but Tucker did you ever see the ghost?”

“No, which is probably why I’m the only one that survived!” he complained.

“Oh my god Sam, he didn’t see it,” Danny groaned.

“Oh my god.”

“No wait, didn’t see what?” Tucker asked. His voice had calmed down a bit and was colored with curiosity.

“Tucker...the ghost was Danny,” Sam told him.

“Uh no, we clarified his name was Thomas,” Tucker corrected.

Sam and Danny both groaned. “No Tucker, the ghost was Danny Phantom. It was skinned to look like Phantom,” she clarified.

Tucker’s line sat silent for a long time before he finally exploded in a shower of shock, excitement, and regret. “NO WAY! No! That is so cool! I mean I knew the developers were fans, but this is so cool! Like literally the best tribute ever. Oh my god I can’t believe I missed it! No!” he cried. He was so loud into the microphone that Danny had a hard time believing Tucker didn’t wake his parents.

“It’s why both of us died,” Danny explained. “We were just too shocked seeing it.”

“We’re going back in. I need to see this,” Tucker demanded.

Danny bit his lip. He was not going back in. He meant it when he said he was done. He almost had his explanation on his lips before Sam spoke up first. “I doubt it’ll show up two times in a row. I Googled it and the skin will be here for the whole month of Halloween as a random draw, so you’ve got time to see it. But if you want to try again tonight, I’ll keep playing if you want. Danny...he needs to get some sleep.”

“What? No, it's so much easier with three people. Come on Danny,” Tucker pleaded.

“Nah, Sam’s right, I should go to bed. Gotta be rested for those real ghosts tomorrow,” Danny chuckled. “Besides, being killed by my own image was a little weird.” And also a little too close to home, considering some of his memories of Dan.

“Yeah, this game isn’t Danny’s jam,” Sam explained simply. He had a feeling Sam would talk to Tucker more about what they discussed while their avatars were dead, and honestly he didn’t mind. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Tucker, he just really didn’t want to talk about it any more tonight.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re off the hook. At least you gave it a try though.”

“I did, and you’re both gonna owe me one for doing it too,” Danny reminded them.

“Dude, pretty sure you’re in the negatives when it comes to IOUs from us,” Tucker pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “Testing out inventions, excuses at school, doing your homework, remembering the thermos when you forget it, distracting your parents…”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Danny groaned as he left the screen and exited out of the game. “Well fine, then I’m less in the negative now. And on that happy subject, I’m going to bed. Good night guys.”

“Good night Danny,” Sam replied. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Danny almost hung up on their private Discord server when he heard Tucker speak up. “Hey Danny, wait.”

“What?” he asked curiously, his mouse still hovering over the disconnect sign.

“The type of ghost...was a Phantom.”

I’ve never cross-posted on tumblr before, so this will be a first! I hope you enjoy!

#ectober month 2021 #ectoberhaunt trick #ouija board #Danny Phantom #phasmophobia #light angst #2k21 prompt ouija board #2k21 day 5

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missmitchieg · 3 years

Text

Hey, Don't Die

It started out as a joke.

It was always supposed to be a joke.

The boys weren't supposed to die on him. But he forgot to say it. It wasn't his fault! He got distracted by the pretty girl in front of him and their favorite little inside joke just slipped his mind. So he didn't say it, and now the boys were gone.

Or maybe it was his fault they were gone. Sure, maybe it was a coincidence that every time he did say it, they didn't die on him and the one time he didn't say it, they went and died. Or maybe it was some weird fortune or good luck charm.

Whatever it was, Bobby didn't think he would ever be able to escape that positively heart wrenching, soul crushing guilt of how he should have said it, or how he should have been there to run and call for an ambulance.

The first time he said it was to Luke. It was a joke. It was funny. Luke made a comment at the end of the day that he was going to his parents' house to sleep because his bed didn't give him that neck crick that his couch did.

With a laugh, Bobby patted Luke's shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "Alright. Don't die out there, though."

Luke cackled at that and shook his head, giving him a half hug. "I'll try, buddy. Love you."

"I love you, too."

They kept that joke going for a couple of weeks.

The next one he made the joke to was Alex. It was still a joke. It was still funny. Alex was just going to make a quick pizza run and come back.

"Be quick. Don't die." Bobby told him.

Alex smiled and ruffled Bobby's hair the way he knew he hated, waving as he walked out. "I won't, bro."

"You better not. Love you."

"Love you."

Then came Reggie. It was still a joke. It was still funny. They were on a 'friend date', as Reggie called it, to the aquarium. Bobby, Luke and Alex all wanted to watch the great whites in the shark tunnel, but Reggie wanted to go look at the jellyfish in the opposite direction of the sharks.

"Alright. We'll meet back up by the clown fish, then. Don't die alone in there." Bobby smiled and patted Reggie's cheek.

"I won't, Bobins." Reggie chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, giving his best friend a sweet smile. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

It had sort of become their thing after a while. One or two or all of them would go off somewhere without 'their Bobble' and Bobby would always, always tell them, whether it was with a smile or a faux serious look on his face. "Don't die."

Then came that day. July twenty second, nineteen ninety five. Bobby had been distracted by a very pretty girl with curly hair and sparkly eyes and had just forgotten to tell his boys his usual comment of "Hey. Don't die out there. I love you.", so he hadn't said it. And then he got a call. A call to tell him that his band, his best friends, his boys, were gone forever.

He was horrified when he realized what had happened.

What he didn't say.

What he didn't do.

He had broken down about it to his parents, who promptly suggested that he go to therapy about it. Something about how it wasn't healthy to think this way and he did nothing wrong and he couldn't have known what would happen and he needed to talk to someone about it. So he did. He went and he talked about the boys and how it hurt that they were gone and they were never coming back. But he never told his therapist about their thing, about what he would say to them when they left his sight.

He had also managed to become a rock star by means of some sleazy contract he hadn't been given the chance to read properly giving ownership of Luke's music to some company and Bobby had been forced to record the songs and pass them off as his own and keep the true writer a secret.

It was fine. Luke was gone. He wasn't ever going to find out what the contract had roped Bobby into. So he did it. Just not without a few breakdowns in between song recordings and e-mails to his therapist about emergency sessions. But it was fine.

So he went on like that, taking his boys' music and recording it in between breakdowns and therapy sessions and becoming a mega famous rock star, just like he had managed to convince himself his boys would want him to.

He grew up and had a kid. A little girl named Carrie, who was his absolute little pride and joy. A little girl who was never going to live in a garage, or eat out of the back of a beat up car, or get food poisoning, or anything that could harm her. She was going to have only the best health care and knowledge he could buy and teach her and she wasn't going to die.

The first time he had told her the thing, she was a little toddler, going to day care for the first time. She had been excited to go to day care and meet new friends to play with and he had been a wreck thinking of all the things that could happen if he didn't remember to tell her. So he made a mental note to not forget before he walked out the door to go to work.

He had walked inside with a little curly haired toddler on his hip and, with a smile, said to his little girl: "Carrie, love, daddy's gonna go to work now. You're gonna stay here a while and I'll pick you up when I'm done working. I love you. Don't die here."

Carrie had giggled at that and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Love you, daddy!" She said before he let her down and she ran off to bang on a brightly colored toy drum.

Bobby winced as he felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of his little girl playing a drum, just like his old best friend. He bit his lip as he clenched and unclenched his fists and walked out to the car to go to the studio, where he would try and write a song as good as Luke's old music again.

No matter how hard he tried to channel the guitarist, he just couldn't. He couldn't write like Luke, because he wasn't Luke. And Luke wasn't there to help him. Wasn't there to chuckle and suggest a clever slant rhyme, or a metaphor that would work, or a cool melody that sounded like something Luke would write, but also that Bobby, no, that Trevor could play in his sleep.

He groaned in frustration as he and his team of four other writers just couldn't come to an agreement about which rhyme scheme to use for this song, and kept glancing at the clock until it was the time to go and pick up his baby from day care.

He walked inside and looked around for Carrie, hoping, praying that saying the thing worked, that he hadn't lost his little girl like he lost his boys. "Care-bear? Baby?"

"Daddy!" Carrie giggled and got up from where she was sitting on the floor watching a little curly haired girl slam her fingers against toy piano keys, running up to him. "Hi, daddy!"

Oh, thank God. "Carrie, there you are! My little girl! Oh!" He cooed as he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her tiny, giggling head.

"Aww!"

"That's so sweet."

"Oh, what a good daddy!"

Trevor looked up and chuckled, shaking his head. "I just love my little girl so much. Come on, baby. Let's go home. We're having that yummy pasta you like for dinner."

"Yay!"

After that, saying the thing became his and Carrie's thing, just like it was his and his boys' thing. He would drop Carrie off somewhere or Carrie would be on her way to the bus stop to go to school, and Trevor would send her off with an "I love you. Don't die.", and his daughter would smile and salute.

"Daddy, I'm going to my friend, Julie's!"

"Ok! Have fun and don't die! Love you!"

"Dad, I'm going to school!"

"Don't die at school! Love you!"

"Dad, can I go to Flynn and Julie's sleepover on Saturday?"

"Sure, just don't die."

And they went on like that for years.

Carrie always thought it was 'just one of dad's funny quirks'. An 'overprotective dad' thing. Sort of like Marlin from that cute kids movie, Finding Nemo. Carrie would go somewhere without him for a period of time, and Trevor would worry endlessly until she came back, completely unharmed. Then came the hugs and kisses and comments of "There's my favorite girl!" from him.

Little did she know just how much her father was suffering. Little did she know just how worried he was when she would leave, how relieved he was when it sank in that she was fine, that it had worked again, just like it always did.

So sure, maybe it wasn't necessarily 'normal' to say that every time his daughter was out of his sight for any amount of time. Maybe he was still a little traumatized. Maybe he should bring it up to his therapist. But he was fine. He was fine, as long as she was fine.

He ended up admitting it to his therapist mid-session. "So I do this thing with my daughter." He started. "Whenever she goes somewhere without me, I always tell her, 'don't die, I love you'. It's-" He coughed and cleared his throat taking a sip of water to will the sudden lump in his throat away. "It's... Something I used to say to my friends before they died."

Dr. Born nodded and wrote something down quickly, gesturing for him to go on.

"I always tell her. I never forget to. Because the one time I did forget... Well." Trevor made a kind of 'you know, I just told you' gesture and shifted, pushing his hair out of his eyes like his Reggie used to.

"I see."

"I guess I think... If I don't tell her, something will happen. Something will hurt her, a-and she'll disappear like my boys did."

"That sounds quite stressful." Dr. Born had said, in his non judgemental, caring therapist voice.

"It is." Trevor admitted, a familiar anxiety bubbling up in his chest. "Because what if I forget one day? What if I forget one day-"

"Trevor." Dr. Born said, sensing an unhelpful anxiety spiral coming on.

"-and Carrie gets hurt? What if I forget to say it to her just one time and-"

"Trevor."

"that's the last time I ever see my little girl, just because I forgot to tell her not to die-"

"Trevor!"

Trevor winced at that and stopped fidgeting with the toy Dr. Born had advised him to buy for his anxiety years ago now, looking up at him. "Sorry."

"Clearly, you were very affected by the death of your dear friends." Dr. Born noted. "But, why didn't you mention saying that to your friends or your daughter before?"

Trevor frowned at the question and looked down, wringing his hands. "I... Don't know. I guess that part hurt too much to talk about, or think about." He said with a tilt of his head.

Dr. Horn hummed at that and nodded his understanding, taking another note.

"My parents told me to go to therapy to talk about losing the boys, and how much that was affecting me." Trevor started. "I didn't have the capacity, I guess, to talk about that, so I stuck to the boys."

Dr. Horn nodded again, still giving him the most understanding, non judgemental look.

"And I-I guess I just convinced myself telling Carrie that was normal. That worrying if I didn't tell her that, I would end up losing her like my boys, was normal." Trevor continued. "That saying it or not saying it was sort of like a telling of what was to come. Because until now, it has been." He explained. "Because every time I said it, the boys lived. The one time I didn't, they ended up in an ambulance. Every time I say it to Carrie, she comes home safe. What if it happens again?"

Dr. Horn nodded again and hummed, looking for the best way to reply to Trevor. "I won't lie and say that's a normal train of thought, or necessarily true."

Trevor sighed but nodded. "Fair enough."

"But I also know it would negatively affect you to just stop saying it cold turkey."

Trevor nodded again.

"I think, whenever you decide you're ready, and you don't have to be ready the exact next time that Carrie goes somewhere, you should try texting it to her when she's already out the door. And eventually stop saying it altogether."

Trevor considered the thought and nodded slowly, wringing the toy in his hands. "I- Should I tell my daughter what I'm doing? It might be weird for her to be so used to hearing that every time she leaves to suddenly not hearing it."

"Oh, good thinking. I think you should tell her. Though, I'll warn you, she might ask about why you're suddenly cutting out a tradition between the two of you."

Trevor nodded, scratching his neck. "What will she think of me when I tell her about it?"

"You'll never know until you tell her."

So he did. Six months after the fact. He sat Carrie down and explained to her that their 'fun dad joke' was going to change a little soon. He explained why he would always say it and about the boys. He explained that it was going to stop.

Carrie sat and listened intently as she processed what her father was telling her, giving him the tightest hug she ever had after he had finished, both of them in tears. She couldn't believe that her father had just been living with that pain for years, and mentally preparing himself for it to stop for months. Knowing all of this, Carrie Wilson was the most confident she had ever been that her father was the strongest man she ever knew.

So she walked out one day, just to get some fro-yo with the girls, and waited for a text from her father when she didn't hear their thing said out loud. It came when she was two steps out the door.

The next time came just the next day, when Carrie was on her way to school. Carrie didn't hear it out loud, so she waited for a text. It came five steps out the door.

The next time came when Carrie had a performance that Trevor couldn't be at. It was in the same direction as the studio, so he drove her to the venue, and Carrie felt a sad smile stretch onto her face as she heard him say, "I love you. Don't die."

Two weeks later, Carrie was going to a sleepover at Julie's for the first time in a long time. She smiled as this time, she made it all the way to the car before she got a text saying their thing.

Almost a month later, Carrie grinned as she walked out to go to school and didn't hear it, and never got a text. She came home that day, no feeling of sickness coming on or bruise in sight. She was fine.

And he was fine, too.

#julie and the phantoms #bobby trevor wilson #luke patterson #alex molina #reggie molina #carrie wilson #jatp fanfic #someone asked for a read more thing

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Text

so there's this post @draculcid made a lil while ago that i thought was fuckin ADORABLE, and i wrote a thing. that sat in my drafts for a while lol, but here is the finished product, pls enjoy

if asked, he honestly couldn't say how he ended up being holly wheeler's babysitter. something to do with steve mentioning to claudia, who mentioned to karen, that billy has a lot of free time lately, and the next thing he knows he's being cornered at melvald's and strong-armed into spending afternoons with the least bratty wheeler child.

ever since she got her new job and apartment and shit, she's needed someone to pick holly up from school, and apparently billy counts as a qualified adult.

the couple hours he has to spend watching the kid aren't awful, holly's alright, but the five minutes of small talk when mrs.wheeler gets back is always awkward as hell. she tries painfully hard to be polite and he hates it.

but he needs the money. it was either this or waiting tables at the 24hr diner, and, shockingly, he's actually more qualified for the babysitting gig.

maybe he's not dad material or anything, but he manages. he had fun bossing the aqua tots around last summer, while it lasted. the young ones are easier to deal with.

though it's truly exhausting sometimes. on the days when his scars ache and it's more noticeable than ever that he isn't as strong as he used to be because he has to keep putting holly down even though he promised her a piggy-back ride.

but on those days he calls steve, because steve is a goddamn blessing.

steve always has pizza money and he lets holly put glittery clips in his hair—something billy doesn't do anymore, not after she got one tangled so deep in his curls he had to go home with it still in there—and he's a good sport when she wants to play pretend.

today she wanted to play house. billy's not entirely sure what that means but it's keeping the kid happy and steve looks ridiculously adorable in the stupid apron she made him wear, so.

billy though, billy likes to think he still has some dignity left, so he's busying himself cleaning up the mess of lego on the living room floor while steve makes an invisible sandwich for holly.

but then holly says, in her quiet little voice, "is daddy coming home now?" and billy pauses, stops with his hand hovering awkwardly in midair and his heart hammering.

he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. awkward conversations about the fact that her mom and dad are divorced now, and what that all means, are definitely not supposed to be part of his babysitting duties.

how would that conversation even go? he's pretty sure she knows about the separation, she has to, she moved away without her dad, they had to have told her something, but—

"i think she means you, big guy," steve supplies, with barely contained amusement.

ah. right. playing house.

he mentally shakes himself, and drops the lego bin on the coffee table before shuffling over to join steve and holly by the little plastic kitchen set. steve is smirking at him, way to smug for the guy who's wearing a frilly apron.

billy plops on the carpet next to steve. "honey, i'm home," he says dryly.

it takes about fifteen minutes for him to completely forget about feeling weird about it all.

in fact, it's disturbingly easy to slip into his role, making moon-eyes at steve and pretending it's because he's acting. he's been careless lately. letting his feelings get all over the place. he never was that subtle around steve, but the weird domesticity of babysitting a kid together gets in his head.

like when steve pokes fun at his make-belief dish washing skills and it's somehow not embarrassing. and it just does things to billy's stupid heart because it doesn't realize they aren't actually married.

"shut up," billy mutters, softly, too soft, warm and not at all threatening. he should feel off-balance but he doesn't.

"is that any way to talk to your wife?" steve can barely say it without grinning.

his big dumb sunshine-y grin is probably what fried billy's brain enough for him to respond with, "aw, sorry, baby," a little too sweetly to be serious, and then—

it's over before he even realizes what he's doing. and he's left sitting there, leaning into steve's space, looking into steve's eyes, wide with shock, searching billy's face, still inches away because steve hasn't moved or reacted or...

"claire from art class says boys aren't supposed to kiss each other," holly whispers.

billy jerks backward, ending up a foot further from steve than he was before, trying to pretend his heart isn't racing and he isn't struggling to breathe, and his goddamn lips aren't tingling with the phantom sensation of steve's mouth pressed to his, breath mingling, a soft sound just...

he curls his fingers into the carpet at his sides and stares, unseeing, at a stain on the knee of his jeans.

before he can even fathom saying a damn word, steve cuts in with a vehement, "claire from art class is full of shit," and billy startles, turning to look at him. there's a set to his jaw and a spark of something in his eye, determined and steady despite the flush on his cheeks.

it's a really inconvenient moment for billy to get distracted by how fucking gorgeous steve is.

holly lets out a nervous giggle. "steeve...that's a swear."

"ah, fu—uhh...um. right." steve pushes his bangs away from his face and sighs. a couple locks stick out awkwardly when his hand falls away, and it makes billy's fingers itch. "listen, holly. it's not nice to tell people they aren't allowed to love someone—"

"you and billy are in love?" she gasps, her eyes huge and round, flicking between the two of them.

steve turns impossibly pinker, mouth opening and closing silently. billy's heart leaps.

he bites his lip, holding back a smile and trying to stamp down on the bubbling, hopeful warmth in his chest. he needs to do something. right now. something other than stare at steve. he runs a hand down his face, blows out a breath, and tries to get his shit together.

"alright, holly, steve here is gonna make us some hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, and you are gonna forget this ever happened, deal?"

she glances between billy and steve with a furrowed brow. "and a piggyback ride?"

billy snorts. "sure, kid, whatever you want."

she grins, suddenly, and nods. "okay."

"billy, you sure you're feeling up to that?" steve murmurs. when billy turns to look at him he's a lot closer than expected. his breath catches, the irritated retort on the tip of his tongue evaporates.

"yeah, i..." his gaze wanders down a little, touching, briefly, on steve's mouth before he snaps his eyes back upward. "i'm fine."

steve's hand inches towards his on the carpet between them, fingertips brushing billy's knuckles. holly's staring at them, billy can see her out of the corner of his eye. the scrutiny is setting his teeth on edge but he doesn't pull away. "just. don't push yourself, okay?"

billy scoffs. "yeah, yeah."

and then steve kisses his cheek.

fucking. kisses his cheek.

he doesn't linger, he's sauntering off to the kitchen before billy can even fucking blink. it's brief enough that billy wonders if he imagined the sudden warm pressure of steve's lips against his skin, the way steve's eyes were all lit up and fond and just that little bit defiant, like he was daring billy to say something about it.

they'll talk about it, he's sure. later. billy's a horrifying mix of ecstatic and absolutely terrified. he's shit at talking about his feelings, and so is steve. it's going to be a goddamn shitshow, but...

but still. he has a good feeling about it.

holly's even quieter than usual when she scoots over to sit next to billy, "you love steve?"

"thought we were gonna forget about that, wheeler." he glances down at her. there's nothing but innocent curiosity on her face. he sighs. bites his lip. "...yeah. yeah i do."

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #holly wheeler #stranger things #a raven's writing desk #saw someone's anon trash talking the idea of billy and steve babysitting holly #on my dash today #so i may or may not have finished this ficlet out of spite

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

masquerade (part 3) (d.m.)

prompt: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect…

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood reader

warnings: language, 18+ sexual content, yelling and fighting, underage drinking, talks of nightmares, anxiety

word count: 6.7k

author note: if you would like to be added to the masquerade taglist, fill out this form please!

Pressed against the brick wall of the staircase, lips pressed to each other, frantically stealing kisses, jagged breathing as hands roam up and down your body, your fingers laced in his hair. His lip detach from yours to press hot kisses down your neck and jawline as you pant, trying to catch your breath, desperate for air. Your eyes are sealed shut as you relish in the feeling of his skin against yours.

You sigh as his lips reattach to yours, picking back where he left off. Draco’s hands trail up your sides and to your chest, groping your breasts outside of your shirt. You whine when he stops as you can feel his lips turn into a smirk. “I thought you hated me,” he mumbles against your lips.

He continues to kiss you down your jawline, leaving sloppy kiss. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you think to yourself. You wanted him. This felt so good, so right. But it went against everything you stood for. It went against everything you taught yourself when you first laid eyes on him. Draco was the enemy. The saboteur. Pretentious, evil, vile, loathsome, despicable. And yet, here you were, underneath him as he pressed heavy kisses against your delicate skin, leaving marks against your skin that claimed you as his.

For as long as you could remember, you hated Draco. If you told yourself months ago that this was the situation you found yourself in, you wouldn’t believe it. But you couldn’t deny that you loved every minute of it. Maybe you didn’t hate Draco? Maybe things were changing for the both of you? Was there more to him than just the side he let you see?

Breathlessly, you speak as he looks deep into your eyes, his pooled with lust, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he pressed his body close to yours. “I thought you found me intolerable,” you retort as he smirks.

The two of you just stand there, chests rising and falling heavily as you stare at each other. You don’t kiss again. You just look at each other like you did that night at the ball. His hands on your hips as yours rested on his chest. This was never supposed to happen. But you couldn’t change the past now. It was too late. What is done is done. There was no turning back. But the future was unclear. What did this mean for your rivalry? Was there one anymore?

As you stare into Draco’s eyes, you notice a shift. His eyes stop staring into yours with adoration. Something changes. He nervously gulps and his hands pull away from your body and he gently pushes your hands down from his chest. You’re confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “I’m sorry,” Draco tells you as he looks around, making sure that the coast was clear and no one saw what just happened. “This was a mistake.”

Your heart stops. “Sorry for what?” you ask, scoffing a little bit. You sure weren’t sorry for what just happened and you knew he wasn’t either.

Draco backs himself away from you and take a few steps down the stairs as you watch him in utter confusion. “It was heat of the moment,” he tells you as your smile fades. “There’s nothing between us, (Y/N). And there never will be,” he simply states as fact rather than a question. You look at him in disbelief and scoff, shaking your head. He sighs and turns towards you, a little annoyed. “You know nothing can happen between us. The ball was a fluke! What happened just then,” he points to the stairs where you had just kissed, “was a stupid mistake. We both got caught up and it was a slip on both our parts.”

You take a few steps down from the stairs and challenge him. “So you mean to tell me that you feel nothing towards me? Not ever?” you fold your arms across your chest in defense. There was no way he could stand there and deny everything that happened between you two. The progression of events and the things Draco were saying were not lining up. He was trying to protect himself at the expense of your integrity. Draco sighs and turns away from you, not bearing to look at you anymore. “Well, now that makes you something I never thought you were, Draco. A liar.”

Draco takes a step towards you, “You know it to be true, (Y/N). We are getting our feelings for each other confused after that night. We need to go our separate ways and go back to how things used to be. That’s what’s best for us.”

In pure fury now, without even registering it, you push his chest. “You do not get to decide what is best for me,” you point at him. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do and what I can and can’t feel.” Draco looks at you, almost apologetically, but wipes it off quickly to replace it with a disgruntled look. “But you know what,” you sigh. “Maybe you’re right.” Draco furrows his brows. “Better to keep someone as self-absorbed and righteous as you at an arm’s distance,” you speak, surrendering yourself to the reality of the situation. The illusion that you conjured up of you and Draco maybe being together after the history you’ve had was childish and foolish. “Best for us to do what we do best. Compete against each other,” you speak softly as he gulps. “Best of luck, Malfoy. It’s a race to the top now. More than ever.”

And with that, you push past him and back to the party. A part of you wishes that Draco called out for your name like they did in those romantic movies, but this wasn't a romantic movie. This was real for you. This was a horrifying truth that you had to get past and move on with. It was showtime now and you weren’t going to miss your shot.

Putting the stairwell incident behind you, you make your way back to the party and walk directly to the drinks table and pour yourself a cup full of fire whiskey, drinking it in a few goes, the sensation burning your throat, warming your chest, and making your stomach churn. You’d come to regret it in the morning, but now you needed something to distract you.

You watch as people still happily mind their own business, dancing and chatting away, smiles on everyone’s faces. You wished that you were carefree as that, but it wasn’t in your nature to let go so easily. Letting go was hard. Especially when it is linked to your past and how you were raised. You were taught letting go meant putting your guard down and that was a sign of weakness. You needed to protect yourself because if you didn’t, who else will?

Shaking your head, you push aside your thoughts. You have no motivation to go dance and pretend like nothing was wrong. But you didn’t want to be alone in your dormitory after what happened.

Walking over to Daphne who chats to a few people in the corner of the party, you place a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” you quietly interject. “Would you mind getting some fresh air with me?” you ask her.

Daphne immediately notices the look in your eyes. “Absolutely,” she tells you as she excuses herself. The two of you link arms and walk out of the common room. “Be careful, prefects are monitoring the halls since it’s past curfew.”

You give her a smile, “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to.” As a prefect yourself, other prefects weren’t going to question your motives. “Besides, if they give me shit for it, we can just cast an enchantment on them and poof, it’s like it never happened.”

Daphne shakes her head as you walk through the halls and eventually find yourself outside. The air is cold against your hot face, but it’s refreshing and revitalizing. You sigh as the wind blows against your cheeks as you across your arms for warmth. You remain quiet with just your thoughts, silently analyzing what just happened. It all happened so quickly, giving you little to no time to process any of what just happened.

Placing a hand on yours, Daphne gives you a sad smile. “Is everything alright?” she asks, genuinely concerned for you. If there was one thing she hated, it was seeing someone she loved in pain.

You turn to Daphne with tears in your eyes that threaten to fall out, but before they can, you wipe them away. “It won’t ever work between us. And I was silly for thinking it could,” you confess. You didn’t need to give context. Daph knew exactly what this was about. “I was right in the first place. It’s illogical. We’re oil and water. Fire and ice. When one of us prevails, the other gets hurt.”

“You weren’t silly for thinking that, (Y/N),” Daphne stands in front of you to look you in the eyes, focusing on you. “In fact, you were brave for trying. You know I love Draco, but that boy is a coward. You are quite the opposite,” she says as you let out a light chuckle. “Consider it a bullet dodged.”

Shaking your head, you sigh, “You’re right. Thank you.” She nods and squeezes your hands. “I just wanna stand here for a little while before going back in. Is that okay?”

Daphne smiles, “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

The two of you stand outside the castle, enjoying the cool winter breeze on your skin, the light of the moon illuminating your faces as Daphne rubs your back comfortingly. You rest your head on her shoulder as you exhale a shaky breath. Things just got a lot more complicated.

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

Avoiding Draco was virtually impossible. The two of you had the same duties, same study schedule, same classes. So instead of trying to meander your way around seeing him, you approached the situation like you did for years. With vitriol and no compassion. You didn’t talk to him, you didn’t make eye contact with him, you just pretended he didn’t exist. And him the same to you.

It made for awkward encounters that people definitely picked up on, but no one wanted to ask you the reason why and you didn’t want to explain the reason why.

Prefect duties with Draco became something you dreaded. Before any of this mess happened, the two of you would make a competition out of it. Who helped more first years? Who finished patrolling first? Who completed all tasks first? Who got the the prefect bathroom first? But now, you remained silent and minded your own business, but still snuck glances at each other, making sure that the other was still on task.

Tonight’s prefect duties were almost all complete. You had finished patrolling your hallways and rotated your shift with a Ravenclaw prefect. You loosened the Slytherin tie around your neck and let your hair down from the ponytail it was being held up in. Letting out a sigh of relief, you fluff your hair and rub your face. Today was exhausting and all you wanted to do was go into your room and go to bed.

You walked into the Slytherin common room, fully prepared to do so, but you stop in your tracks when you see a first year student sat on the couch, sniffing to themselves. “Hello,” you gently greet the student. “Why are you up at this hour? It’s quite late,” you slowly approach the small boy who looks up at you, tear stained cheeks and red eyes signifying he’s been crying for a while. “Can I sit down next to you?” you ask.

He nods gently and scoots over for you to sit next to him. Carefully, you sit next to him and give him a soft smile. “What’s your name?” you ask him.

“Phillip,” he gently replies, wiping his eyes on the cuffs of his pajamas.

You give him a friendly smile and extend a hand to him. “Hi Phillip, I’m (Y/N). I’m the Slytherin prefect,” you tell him, letting him know that you were here to help him. He could trust you. He gives you a small smile and shakes your hand delicately, still hesitant. “Would you like to talk about what is making you upset? Or would you prefer me to sit here and listen? Or we don’t have to talk at all,” you offer him options, letting him chose what will make him the most comfortable.

Phillip sniffles. “I had a bad dream. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

You nod your head, “We don’t have to talk about it. That’s alright.” Phillip nods his head and plays with the hem of his pajamas, kicking his feet back and forth. “Bad dreams happen sometimes. But that’s all they are. Dreams. It’s not real,” you tell him. “You know what makes me feel better?” you tell him as he looks up at you, wondering what you were going to say. “I think about all of the exciting things I’m going to do in the morning. Do you have any fun things planned?”

A small smile forms on the small boy’s face which is soon replaced with tiny giggles. “Professor McGonagall is taking us all to Hogsmeade tomorrow morning,” he beams.

You give him an excited gasp. “You see! That sounds like loads of fun!” He laughs at your excitement for him. “There’s going to be so much to do! You can buy sweets, browse shoppes, play with your friends in the snow! That’s going to be a lot of fun, Phillip. Man, I wish I was you!”

Phillip giggles, “I guess you’re right.”

“’Course I am!” you tease him as he smiles. “But in order to have the most fun you possibly can, you need to get a good night’s rest,” you tell him as he nods his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to do that, Phillip?”

He takes a deep breath in and sighs with a smile, “I think so.”

Giving him a smile, you speak, “Sounds like a plan.” You offer him a high five that he gladly accepts. “Alright, my friend, go run off and have the sweetest dreams,” you tell him.

Phillip springs to his feet and runs off to his dormitory with a smile. “Goodnight, (Y/N)!” he calls as he disappears up the stairs.

You smile to yourself, looking off in his direction. Your heart swells. You loved helping out others when you could. It made you feel like you were destined to do this.

“I didn't realize how good you were with kids,” a voice speaks.

Letting out a gentle squeal, you place a hand over your heart and turn around, surprised by the sudden voice. Your eyes land on Draco who stands before you, hands tucked into his pockets. He stood and looked at you with kind eyes. You just stared at him blankly, not giving into him this time. Not again. You couldn’t bare it. “You scared me,” you simply state as you rise from the couch, ready to leave.

Draco speaks as you walk in the opposite direction towards the girls’ dormitories, “You would make a great Healer.”

You stop in your tracks. He remembered? From that conversation you had in the gardens. You tell your heart to stop fluttering in your chest as you close your eyes. Now was not the time for flattery. You were exhausted and you needed to go back to sleep. Turning towards him, you look at him, “What are you trying to do?”

This was a genuine question. Was he trying to make amends? Nights before he told you to stick to doing what you both did best. Hating each other. And now he wanted to put that one pause? That’s not how things worked.

Draco sighed, “I’m just trying to have a conversation rather than ignoring each other. Merlin, (Y/N), before the ball even happened we would talk to each other during prefect duties.”

You laughed, “We didn’t talk, we argued.” Which was true. The two of you arguing or challenging each other during prefect duties, taking turns taking a stab at the other’s pride or ego. “You wanted the relationship we had before the ball and I’m trying to do that. You on the other hand are standing in my way, Malfoy. So get out of my way and move on.”

But neither of you move. Again, you just stand there completely enraged at him, and he just staring at you with guilt in his eyes. A sight you’ve never seen before, but you don’t show any sympathy for him. He did this. He did this to you. You couldn’t bother feeling sorry for him.

“I didn’t mean for things to end up like this,” he says quietly. You scoff. “Genuinely, I mean it.”

“You should have said that a long time ago, Malfoy. You’re seven years too late. The damage is done,” you spit at him. “The ball was stupid and us coming together over it was stupid. The ball was my chance to find someone who I could have a partnership with. We ruined it for each other and now we’ll have to wait another year until it rolls around again. And next year, I will be actively avoiding you.”

Draco opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He tries again, but this time is interrupted. The common room door opens and in the doorway stands Tracy Davis. “Draco, are we still meeting in the astronomy tower?” she asks with a stupid girlish grin on her face.

Draco looks at her and then back at you and then back at Tracy. He gulps. “I’ll be there soon, darling. Go on without me and I’ll meet you up there,” he smiles as she giggles and closes the door. “I have to go,” he looks at the floor, too embarrassed to look at you.

With a scoff, you speak, “You work quickly, Malfoy.” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, still embarrassed. “It’s fine. No need to wait up for me. If this date of yours goes well, maybe you won’t need to be in attendance to next year’s ball. Enjoy yourself,” you speak before walking up to the girl’s dormitory.

“(Y/N)!” he calls after you, like in those romantic movies you would watch with your mother, but you don’t turn around. You continue to walk away from him. And you don’t let yourself cry this time. Instead, you walk away faster.

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

Weeks have past since you and Draco last spoke in the common room. You had made it very clear to him that you had no intention of wanting to even talk to him, even if it was competitive banter like you used to. Things were different now and there was no going back to the way things once were. And you had to be okay with that.

You had spent more time surrounding yourself with your studies and your friends, maintaining your good grades and good standing with your friends. Daphne knew that this drastic change was affecting you and she tried her best to be as supportive as she possibly could. Pansy on the other hand, clueless to your situation, simply kept to herself about your change in behavior around Draco, focusing on you and your friendship, which you always thanked her for.

Like always, you found yourself in the library again, returning books that you were finished studying from and reading, walking through the stacks and returning them to their rightful shelves. As you walked through the library, you thought to yourself of your upcoming assignments. Potions exam coming up which you needed to receive an excellent grade on in order for your average to rise another point so you could surpass Draco in Potions. Defense Against the Dark Arts exam coming up which meant you needed to maintain your average, seeing that you and Draco had the same average. Divinations class you knew you had to participate more in in order to get in Trelawney’s good graces so you could gently ask her to bump up your previous exam grade two points to beat Draco’s average.

As you walked around returning your books, you can’t help but have your ears perk up when you hear a certain girlish giggle coming from the back of the library. You told yourself to ignore it, but when you heard the words, “Stop it, Draco, I’m trying to concentrate!” your curiosity got the best of you.

Not to draw attention to yourself, you slithered through the stacks quietly, pretending to put away books, when in reality, you peaked through the cracks of the stacks in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on at that back table.

You knew it was wrong of you to be eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t yours, but honestly, after everything Draco had put you through, you didn’t give a damn at this point.

Peaking through the stacks, you see Tracy Davis hovered over her notebook, scribbling away as Draco teasingly plucked the book from underneath her. She squealed with glee and clawed back for her notebook. “Give it back, Draco!” she whined at him with a smirk on her cherry red lips as you rolled your eyes. Her voice rippled through you like nails on a chalkboard. So shrill, so...annoying.

Draco held the notebook over his head like he once did with you that time in the stacks, making sure it was just out of her reach. “Make me, Davis,” he teased her as she giggled throwing her head back in exaggerated laughter.

“Oh, please,” you whispered to yourself as you hastily threw a book back in the stacks.

Their banter loudly continued on, making surrounding students roll their eyes and groan in frustration. This whole act that they were putting on was so childish. You knew that Draco was not like this around girls; this was simple an act. A facade. A ploy to make you jealous. And even though you hated to admit it, it was working.

With another shrill laugh, Tracy squealed, “Stop it, Draco!” as he tickled her sides.

You groaned, “That’s it.” Walking out of the stacks and right up to their table with confidence, you spoke, “Last time I checked, this was a library. People are working. This isn’t a place to squeal and giggle and have a tickle fight,” you say with disgust laced in every word. “So, pipe down or leave.”

Tracy’s cheeks flash bright red as she looks away from you and slowly turns back to her work. Draco on the other hand just stares at you, eyes raking you up and down, tongue pressed against his cheek. “Last time I checked you weren’t the librarian,” he hissed.

Your blood was boiling with fury as you snapped back at him, “Shouldn’t you be ass-kissing Professor Snape right now? Or is that appointment in another hour?” You could see the utter anger in Draco’s clenched jaw as you smirked in contentment. “That’s what I thought. So on behalf of the rest of the entire library, shut it.” You flash them both a sarcastic smile and walk away, rolling your eyes.

People watch you walk away in awe of your little fit of rage, but you don’t care. You just let the smirk on your face do all the talking as you walk through the library to the back towards the restricted area. You had a note from your professor to return the book you had took from there as you slid past the rope and through the stacks.

Your eyes scanned over the spines of the books as you looked to place the book you had borrowed in its proper place.

As you place the book back, you hear a voice speak, “Could you leave your fits of rage for somewhere private rather than doing them in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts library?”

A smile comes onto your lips as you turn your head to see Draco standing beside you, hands buried in his pockets and icy eyes freezing you. “You’re not supposed to be here without a note from a professor,” you simply state.

He scoffs, “Oh, fuck off. Since when have you followed any rules.”

“Since I got to this damned school. At least I know I can win fair and square without cheating my way through or without the help of my father,” you mimic him as he takes a daring step near you. “Since when have you cared about people seeing us argue? We’ve done it for seven years and just now you have a problem with it?” you spit at him as you walk away from him, deeper to the back of the restricted section.

Draco follows you deeper into the restricted section, walking and talking, “I would rather keep our conversations private from now on rather than making them public. Especially when I’m in front of a girl that I’m interested in.”

Your mouth goes dry when he says that. Tracy Davis and Draco Malfoy? Yeah, right. That would never work out. For starters, Tracy wasn’t even a pureblood, so if any relationship developed out of that, Lucius Malfoy would stop it from going any further. Not to mention, Tracy Davis was a stage nine clinger, something Draco couldn’t stand. For Merlin’s sake, when Pansy fancied Draco and she merely looked at him, he would get sick to his stomach.

Without looking at him, you speak plainly, “Poor Tracy. Stuck with a foul fool like you.”

You disappear behind a stack of books as Draco follows, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. “Just because you’re jealous of Tracy doesn’t mean you have to take it out on either of us. Surely, you’re more mature than that or is that another thing I am mistaken of?” he sneers.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins was unlike anything else. You wanted to rip his head off. Draco’s words were cruel and hurtful and you were so close to hexing him and getting it over with. “For Merlin’s sake, can you just leave me be!” you pull at your roots. “You simply cannot just leave me the fuck alone ever! You can’t just let sleeping dogs lie. No. You have to have the last word, you have to be right, you have to always pour salt in the wound. And it’s always my wound. So how about this, Malfoy? I fucking hate you. I really do. Nothing excites me more than the thought of you never being in my life again after we leave this school. I can’t wait to live a life when I never have to look upon your fucking face again and feel the way I do about you!”

Draco stands there, arms across and a shit eating grin on his face. He was loving this meltdown that you were having. It was a performance for him. “Yeah? And how do you feel about me?” he eggs you on.

“I just told you! I fucking hate you,” you yell. “I hate that way you look at me with your blue eyes that stare into mine, I hate the way you smile after every nasty thing you say, I hate the way you touch me and pretend that nothing happened, I hate the way you simply brush me off and pretend like I mean nothing to you when I fucking know I do, Draco! I know I mean something to you, but you are just too pathetic to admit it!” you confess, your voice cracking.

You never meant for all of those words to come out of your mouth, but they just spilled out and couldn’t stop. You are breathing heavy as you feel a lump in your throat, but you don’t dare cry in front of him.

Draco on the other hand was just standing there, taking it all in. He didn’t realize how much you observed him. How you carefully analyzed his every move. How brilliant you were when you spoke. It was like poetry the way you talked, even if it was talking down to him. “What do you mean....that you mean something to me?” he asks for clarification.

With a deep inhalation, you take a step closer to him, with each step a warning. “I know that you are just too egotistical and prideful to admit that I mean something more to than just a school rival. Because you are scared to admit that you felt something at the ball. You are scared to admit that you wanted me at that stupid party. You are too scared to admit that even though we’re just eighteen you feel something for me. You are too scared to confess that you are falling in love with me like I am with you,” you reveal and as you say it your eyes widen and your mouth falls agape. Draco’s eyes widen and he stares at you in complete and utter shock.

A confession. A declaration of love. In the most warped sense of the phrase. But it was a declaration nonetheless.

You stutter, trying to find the right words to defend yourself, back peddling now. Mouth agape, “I-I-I didn’t mean that, um, I, uh,” you stutter. “I don’t know what I just said, I-I blurted out something I don’t know.”

Draco speaks, “You’re falling in love with me?” His eyes search yours, but you refuse to look at him. He gently grabs your face in his hands and forces your gaze up to his. His blue eyes melt under your fiery ones. “Do you truly mean that?”

You are panicking. What were you supposed to say? Tell a lie? Tell him that all of it meant nothing to you when on the contrary, what happened at the ball was everything you could have wanted? “Draco, I...” you trail off.

“I need to know, (Y/N),” he states, eyes digging into yours, prying the truth from you. “I need to know if you’re falling in love with me, now more than ever.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart stops. “Do you love me, Draco?” you retort, hoping he would say something, anything. “Please.”

Without wasting another moment, Draco’s lips crash onto yours and you immediately kiss him back. His hands cup your face as your hands rest on his forearms, pulling him in closer. The kiss is gentle, but desperate and passionate. It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but in a way it was better. His lips were warm and soft, tasting of peppermint as he pulled you close. Mumbling against his lips, you speak, “Draco, I-”

He shakes his head, “Don’t say another word.”

His lips find yours again, this time more desperate than the last. You wrap your arms around his neck as his slither around your waist. Your lips are pressed firmly against each others before his hands squeeze your bottom, making you gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth. His tongue massages yours as you moan softly into his mouth, your fingers tangling themselves into his white blonde hair. His lips press hot kisses down your jawline and neck as you lean back, allowing your flesh to be exposed to his lips.

Frustratedly, he undoes the first few buttons of your shirt before groaning and ripping the last four buttons off. Too distracted to care, you chuckle at his eagerness. Draco stares at your chest, looking at how your breasts spill out of your bra. He places a kiss to either one of them before pushing your shirt off of you and onto the floor, your bra following shortly after.

Mimicking his previous actions, you peel Draco’s shirt off his body to reveal his surprisingly chiseled abdomen. Quidditch really worked wonders on him, huh? Your painted fingernails trace his torso as he smirks before he starts unbuckling his belt as you hastily peel off your underwear. The two of you understood that you didn’t have much time before someone would wonder where you two went or what you were doing. This needed to be quick.

Draco pulls you close to him as you breathily giggle, him smirking. “Jump,” he commands as you do so, him hoisting you up as you wrap your legs around his torso. He grabs a condom from his pants pocket as rips it open before pulling his boxers down and rolling the latex onto his hard member. “You’re going to have to be quiet for me, darling. Can you do that for me?” he huskily whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod your head eagerly. Draco presses you up against the bookcase as you hold onto his shoulders. “Good. Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, looking you in your eyes deeply, making sure that you really wanted this.

You nod again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life,” you pant as he smiles. He lines himself up to your entrance, but before he can push himself in you grab his chin and force his gaze up to yours. “Before you do,” you tease. “I don’t want you calling me darling,” you demand as he furrows his brows. “You called her darling. I want a nickname that’s just for me and me only.”

Draco smirks and leans over into your ear. He hums, “Alright then. How’s princess?” he slowly pushes himself into you as you sigh in pleasure, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Slowly, Draco rocks in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size before picking up his speed. His hard cock rolling in and out of your wetness makes your eyes screw shut and lean your head against the bookcase. You were in complete euphoria as you feel him move in and out. You wanted to moan out his name in pleasure, but at risk of getting caught you bite down on your bottom lip and whimper. “Shit,” you whisper as Draco breathes heavily as he pumps in and out of you. “Fucking hell.”

Draco holds onto your hips tightly as he fucks you, hips rolling against yours as he fucks you against the bookcase. The books around you shake from his thrusting motions, but neither of you could care less. “Fuck, princess, you feel fucking incredible,” he breathes out as he presses kisses into your collarbones.

You hold onto his shoulders as he continues to rock in and out, his speed increasing with each thrust, driving you mad. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles into it, sending you over the edge. “Right there, baby,” you encourage him. He continues at that speed, rubbing your clit and fucking you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Draco buries his face in your neck as you tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling gently. “You’re gonna make me come, princess,” he whispers in your ear as you whimper underneath him. “I want you to finish all over me.”

With a few more strokes, you feel a familiar sensation of a knot in the pit of your stomach and your walls tighten around his throbbing dick. “I’m close, Draco,” you whisper.

“Come, princess,” he nibbles on your delicate flesh. “Come all over my dick.”

And there you were, a writhing mess against the bookcase in the library, holding onto his shoulder for dear life as your head rolls back and mouth falls agape. Draco’s hand flies over your mouth to prevent moans from escaping your mouth, even though he wished he could hear you scream out his name in euphoria. He watches your eyes flutter close as you finish, the sight unlike anything he has ever seen before. Moments later, Draco finishes, still pumping in and out of you, riding out both of your highs as you let out muffled moans.

The two of you are panting, breathless messes as you come down from your climaxes. Draco gently puts you down, holding onto your waist as you try to stand, legs still shaking. He chuckles and pecks your lips gently. “Merlin, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathes as you look up at him with a soft smile. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize those eyes when I first saw you at the ball. You have the most captivating eyes.”

You peck his lips gently before the two of you quickly toss your clothes on again and fix your appearances to look somewhat normal, even though both of your faces were flushed.

The two of you stay in silence for a little while before you speak up. “You didn’t answer my question, Malfoy,” you nudge him as he fixes his tie. He furrows his brows, confused. “I asked you if you were falling in love with me.” Draco looks into your eyes and he breathes out an uncomfortable laugh before buckling his belt. You look at him, searching his face for an answer. “Draco...” you trail off, your worries starting to bubble in your chest. “Draco, I need to know if you do.”

You didn’t want to force him into saying yes, but Merlin, you need to know if you just had sex with a man that you confessed your love to but didn’t feel the same. Draco refuses to make eye contact with you as he runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it as anxiety pools in your stomach and chest. “I told you that I was falling in love with you...and you haven’t told me how you feel yet. All you did was have sex with me,” you speak. “Look at me.”

Draco looks at you with anxiety and guilt in his eyes as your heart sinks. “Please tell me the truth,” you say.

He sighs, “Was what we did not an answer?”

“You’re avoiding the question, Malfoy,” you speak now growing frustrated.

Draco notices the name change and he gulps. “(Y/N)...I don’t know.” You inhale a shaky breath. “I really don’t know.”

You are in disbelief. In shock, you start laughing a little bit, unable to fathom the series of events that just unfolded. “But you know enough to have sex with me, no if, ands, or buts.”

“It’s not like that-”

“No, it’s exactly like that,” you hold your place. Draco lets out a defeated sigh and looks at you sadly. “So, that’s it? You...you wanted to get a confession out of me, that’s it? You wanted me to admit my feelings, fuck me, and then leave me high and dry. This whole charade...this was a part of your grand plan, wasn’t it?” you start to work yourself up.

Draco shakes his head, “Not at all, (Y/N). It’s not like that at all.”

“Well, it seems like it, Draco!” you exclaim, tossing your hands in the air, surrendering. “This whole facade you put on. That’s all it was. A facade. It was a whole lie. And I’m a fool for thinking that it was real.” Draco’s face drops and he reaches out for you as you take a step back. “Well, you know what. You win, Draco. I accept defeat. You win. Congratulations, Draco Malfoy. You’ve beat me at your own game. I hope you’re happy,” you tell him.

“(Y/N), stop please.”

“This is the last time you get to hurt me, Malfoy. But now I see you for who you truly are. Your mask has finally come off and now I see you for the coward you truly are.”

Without staying any longer, you run out of the restricted section, abandoning everything. Tears pool in your eyes as you leave, walking out of the library. You don’t even given him the chance to call out your name. You didn’t want to know that there was hope for the two of you. You shook your head, shame on you for not knowing better. He won. Game over.

But this time, you had ripped off his mask and saw his true colors. The masquerade was over.

------

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headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

JEALOUS | Luke Patterson

Requested by anon: “5 times Luke gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have too. Luke x reader?”

PAIRING(s): Mercer!fem reader x Luke Patterson WARNING(s): angst, fluff WORDS: 2.3k SUMMARY: Five times Luke Patterson gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have to.

A/N: hi! sorry this took so long, lol. school sucks. :/ i promise im gonna be posting more frequently from now onwards! anyway, decided to make y/n alex’ sister, bc i’ve been wanting to try it for a while. hope u like it!! <3 also, song used is carry me by kygo ft. julia michaels.

The first time that Luke Patterson feels that scorching, smoldering rage in the pit of his stomach is when he notices Y/N Mercer stare at his bandmate, Bobby Wilson, for the entirety of their hour-long Literature class.

At first, he doesn’t understand why he feels this way: Y/N’s just as much Bobby’s friend as she is his. Well, not really – Luke likes to believe that he is the one that she is closest to in the band, other than her brother, Alex, of course. Sure, Bobby and Y/N are friends – they say ‘hi’ when they pass by each other in the hallway, she helps him out with his Physics homework when he asks, and he asks her how her day’s been – that sort of friends. They’ve never really interacted more than it was required, and Luke knows that if Bobby wasn’t a part of their band, Sunset Curve, or if Y/N wasn’t their drummer’s sister, those two wouldn’t be friends.

Anyway, he thinks that maybe it’s because they are supposed to be partners, working on their assignment together – and instead, she is choosing to abandon him and stare at one of his best mates, instead. He thinks that maybe he’s mad because she promised him that she would help him out with this assignment, which is particularly hard, and now, it feels like he’s ditching her.

Instead of thinking about why he is so bothered at the fact that Y/N is staring at Bobby, Luke chooses to elbow her instead.

“What?” She whispers, a blush covering her cheeks.

“Can you focus?” He snaps as she rolls her eyes and opens their textbook.

“You’re annoying.”

“Alex, Alex, Alex!”

“Luke, I’m sitting right beside you – you don’t need to yell.”

“There’s something that you should know.” Luke whispers, conspiratorially. Alex, who’s sitting beside him on the couch in the garage where they rehearse, leans forward, intrigued. “What?”

He points at Y/N, who’s sitting in front of Reggie in the opposite side of the room, strumming a guitar – Reggie’s teaching her how to play. Unlike her twin brother, she’s not naturally gifted in music, which is pretty evident from her occasional frustrated huffs, and the obviously off-key tune. Rather, science is her talent, and has always been. The top spot in their class has been permanently occupied by her ever since their first exam as freshmen.

“She!” Luke whispers. Alex furrows his brows. “Yes, I know that she has no musical talent whatsoever –”

“No, no, no. I mean, yes, she doesn’t have that – but you wanna know what she does?”

“I have a feeling that you’re gonna tell me even if I don’t wanna know.” Alex mutters.

“She has a crush on Bobby!” Luke scrunches his face, a disgusted look taking over.

The drummer raises his brows and bursts out laughing. “Really, dude?”

“No, no, no, I’m not lying, okay! I’ve seen her stare at him!”

He raises his brows. “So? She stares at a lot of people.”

“It wasn’t that way, okay? Last week, in class, she was ignoring me and staring at him. Plus, yesterday, when you were god knows where, she and Bobby were having a conversation. An actual conversation! I’ve never seen them talk that much. They were nerding out over Star Wars!”

“Dude, are you…” Alex pauses, looking around, “… jealous?” A smile spreads over his features.

Luke’s eyes widen, and he looks horrified. “What? Me? Jealous? Huh? Me? How?”

Inside, he is panicking. He hadn’t considered this possibility. Is he jealous? No, that can’t be. Y/N – he’s known her forever, and he is supposed to think of her as his sister. He does think so. He’s sure. He can’t – he doesn’t like her. She’s just… Y/N. Sure, he’s always thought that she’s beautiful. And smart. And so, so kind. He’s always admired her. OK, he might have had a little crush on her. But, in a totally harmless, admiring way! (In the way everyone seems to like Winona Ryder these days. Nothing more than that. Absolutely.)

She’s just Y/N.

Y/N, who’s always there for him after he has a bad day. Y/N, who’s the first person he hugs after playing an intense show. Y/N, who’s the only person who can understand his silence. Y/N, who makes sure that he knows that she appreciates him. Y/N, who he knows like the back of his hand.

Before Luke can panic any further, Bobby enters the garage, and Luke notices her attention immediately shift toward him. They exchange a smile, and Luke feels that rage, yet again.

He falls back on the couch, locking eyes with Alex, who is silently watching with a soft smile on his face.

“I’m not jealous.” He says weakly, and Alex nods – but he knows that it doesn’t convince either of them. His friend lays a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “It’s okay.”

By the time the next month rolls around, Luke is positive that he’s jealous: so, he’s resorted to not thinking about it, her or even interacting with her – which is hard considering that she’s always around.

Now, he feels like shit. For their junior year, they are supposed to do a report on a Victorian era novel of their choice, with a partner. He and Y/N were supposed to partners – they had decided months ago and have also done previous assignments together. But now, since he hasn’t even dared to look at her in a month, she’s now doing the report with Bobby, of all people.

As he watches Bobby and Y/N sit next to each other with their arms brushing, he feels that rage again, and curses himself. Could he not have behaved like a normal person? He knows that she is confused as to why he’s suddenly ignoring and avoiding her – she has even asked her brother about it. But Luke had threatened Alex that he would tell everyone about his crush on Reggie if he even said a single syllable.

(Although Luke knows that he would never.)

He sighs, dramatically, and searches for someone else to pair up with, ignoring the way his heart clenches at the realization that he may be losing her.

“Luke?”

He looks up and feels a rush in his veins.

“Are you… mad at me?” Y/N asks tentatively, standing at the door to his bedroom. Her eyes keep flitting between his face and around his bedroom, and he hates the fact that there seems to be an ocean between them.

“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, not knowing what to respond. She looks down at her feet, biting her lip and Luke feels a tug on his heartstrings at that. It’s been so, so long and he has so, so much to tell her, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap that he created.

He builds up his courage and says, “Yeah. I was kinda mad at you.”

Her eyebrows furrow, and panic flows into her e/c eyes. “What – what’d I do?”

Luke inhales sharply and wonders what he’s gonna say. It’s not like he can say that he was jealous of the fact that she liked Bobby, nor could he say that in the past month he has realized the fact that he may have a tiny, little crush on her and had to avoid her at all costs because she will never like him back and it’s too embarrassing?

He clears his throat. “Uh. It’s because you promised that you would do the English project with me but you’re doing it with Bobby.”

“But I’m only doing it with him because you won’t even look at me! Why won’t you?”

“I… You also ignored me for Bobby the other day?”

She throws her hands up. “What other day?”

“When we were working on the Shakespeare thingy!”

“I was not – now you’re making –”

“Forget it. Just go home, Y/N.”

A look of hurt flashes over her eyes, but she quickly clenches her jaw, and stands straighter, masking her emotions. “Asshole.”

She walks out his door, slamming the door shut behind her.

For the rest of the day, Luke lies on his bed and stares at his ceiling, and when Reggie comes over, he tells him that he’s ruined everything. Reggie lies beside him and asks softly, “You okay?”

“I think I like Y/N.” He whispers.

“We know.”

His lips part and he says in disbelief, “Alex told you?!”

Reggie shrugs. “He didn’t need to. Everyone can see the way that you look at her.”

Luke sighs, too tired to argue.

“Hey. It’s just a date, alright? It’s not like they’re getting married.”

Luke props himself on his elbow. “What?”

“Y’know, Y/N’s really picky –”

“What date?”

Reggie’s eyes widen. “Y-You didn’t know?”

Luke raises his brows, urging his friend to continue. He purses his lips and says, “Y/N and Bobby are on a date right now.”

Instantly, Luke feels as if his world has drained of every colour. Reggie looks uncomfortable, and whispers, “I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I didn’t. Obviously.” He whispers, falling back on the bed again. His heart physically hurts, and he can feel tears prick at the back of his eyes. Mostly, he feels anger – at himself, and regret.

As jealousy claws its way to the surface, Luke mutters, “I hate Bobby.”

Luke sits cross legged on the floor of the garage, with a Spanish guitar perched on his lap. His hands dance over the strings, trying to find the perfect melody for the song he just wrote.

Writing songs has always been his way of dealing with his emotions, especially when they got too intense. Right now, the situation with Y/N is exactly that.

His eyes dance over the notebook in front of him, and he closes his eyes, trying to forget everything that’s happened in the past couple of days.

“Cause I don't know how we How we got so far, you and me Almost like there's oceans between us, us So I need to know Could you carry me? Back into your heart again Could you carry me? Right into your distant hands Could you carry me? Right back to where we started from Could you carry me?”

“That’s beautiful.”

Luke’s head turns sharply to the side, and of course, it’s her. He clenches his jaws, and says, “What are you doing here?” He hates the fact that she looks so pretty, wearing a beautiful red sundress.

She bites her lower lip, and says, “We should talk, Luke.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

She giggles. “You’ve always been the jealous type.”

He raises his brows, opening his mouth to deny whatever she was about to say next, but she raises a hand to stop him. “Alex and Reg told me. They said that they’re tired of seeing you mope every day.”

“I –”

“Hold on. So, for the past month, you’ve been mad at me because you thought I like Bobby?”

Luke lowers his head, choosing to stare at his open palm instead.

“You ignored one of your best friends for more than a month because you were jealous, and you were too much of an idiot to tell her the truth?”

“Well, you don’t gotta be so mean about it.”

She laughs. “Luke. Bobby and I – we’re just friends, okay? I was staring at him because I really liked his hair. And you have to admit it – it’s nice. I actually asked him for his shampoo, too. But, well, you and him both thought that I liked him. That’s why he asked me out to the movies last day. But... uh, well, it didn’t work out.”

His heart races at the last sentence. “Why?”

“Because I like you, Luke. I always have. I thought I could like Bobby, I really did – but all I could think about last night was you.” She shrugs, and Luke feels like he’s falling. He thinks that the universe is playing a prank on him, but when he sees her crimson tinged face, the vulnerability in her eyes and her fiddling with her hands, he allows himself to feel the slightest amount of hope.

She looks down, continuing, “I, uh, I always thought that you only saw me as your best friend’s little sister. I didn’t ever think that, you know, that there could be something more. So, I kept it to myself and only Alex knew. But, last night, Reg came over and they were screaming for a while, about you and me, so I went to find out what happened, and they told me that you, uh, liked me too.”

Reggie. He must have told Alex that Luke was ugly crying on his shoulder.

“Please say something, Luke.”

He releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I – I feel like you’re pranking me.”

She grins. “No. No, definitely not.”

“Y/N, god, you have no idea how difficult this past month has been for me. I mean, I never realized that I liked you that much until I saw you with him, you know? I always thought that I had a tiny, little crush on you but I never… and I thought that Alex would kill me if I did anything, but he’s been oddly… nice about all this.”

“He’s just tired of hearing me talk about you.”

“Probably. But yeah. I think you’re brilliant, Mercer. And I really, really, really like you.”

She jumps a little, and whispers, “I really, really, really like you too.”

“Do you maybe wanna go to the movies with me?” His wide grin matches hers.

“Only if we watch part two of Father of The Bride.”

“Deal.”

+1.

Luke watches Bobby smile at Y/N, looking at her as if she’s put the moon in the sky. Although, this time, he doesn’t feel the rage. He doesn’t need to, really, with Y/N’s hand wrapped in his, and the ghost of her lips still lingering on his.

requests open! as always, feedback is highly appreciated <33

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licuadora-nasir · 3 years

Text

Could it be?: Episode 6 fic.

I made my own version of Eldarya ANE's last talk with Lance since I felt that some things were... Missing. Or not completly clear regarding Lance and Erika's past.

The reason why I put my gardienne's name instead of "Erika"? During TO you can decide if you empathize with Lance or not, if you want to understand him or just go with it and try to kill him, and my OC had a bit of hope towards him until the very last moment.

Therefore, whether you liked Lance or not in season one, I thought that it would be more proper to do not use "Erika" this time and give each gardienne more free will.

Any feedback or suggestion is appreciated ❤️ Also, if anyone wants to request anything be my guest lmao, college doesn't start until September and I don't have much to do.

I want to thank the kind @rina-nanashiro that has assisted carefully reading it and pointing my grammar mistakes (English is not my mother tongue woah what a suprise).

I certainly screwed up this time. I was feeling awful. How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I prevent it?

I couldn’t stop thinking about Edgard’s death. The image of the knife in his neck, his blood a wild contrast to the white pristine snow behind him. The only thing I could do before rushing to the ship was stupidly staring at his corpse. Tenjin and his men hurried out and I just let them. I did nothing, again.

I was on the ship’s rail, staring at the ocean like it was the most intriguing and interesting thing I had ever seen. Even the waves seemed to mock me that day. They were calm and peaceful, not like in our first journey when they almost destroyed our ship. Despite it, I would prefer troubled waters that match my mood.

What would I tell Huang Hua, Chrome, Karenn and the rest of the people who expected great things out of me? Am I worthy of a statue when I’m not even capable of saving someone who’s right in front of my eyes? Did I honestly deserve all the praise at the title of “Eldarya’s saviour”? The truth will out and soon all the Eldaryans will realise that I’m nothing but a human with small wings and sparkling powers.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my train of thought. Lance came towards me with a slightly worried expression.

— Are you alright, Kali? You seem pensive.

— Well, we could say so, yes. — I guess he would prefer to say that I seemed pensive instead of a complete failure. Lance sighed and his mien turned serious.

— Actually, you look quite miserable. You’ve barely started these long monologues of yours talking about anything that crosses your mind. — I let a sad chuckle escape my lips. This man could read me like an open book.

— Look, I’m truly sorry we weren’t able to protect Edgard. Really. — I tightened my grip against the rail and turned myself towards the ocean.

— I swore to protect him. To keep him safe, to take him to the HQ. I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. And now he’s dead.

I didn’t dare to turn my head to face him. I didn’t want to see the look in his eyes; pity or annoyance, I just didn’t want to see it. If he pitied me I would feel worse, but if he was angry, I wouldn’t hesitate to argue with him.

— Kali…

— It could have been me! It could have been Mathieu! I was there, I could have helped him.

— Accidents always happen, Kalissandra. This mission turned out to be much more complicated than we initially expected. You weren’t supposed to save his life, you were supposed to assist in the examination of the earth construction.

— But wouldn’t you try to protect one of your kind? — I regretted that the moment I said it. I could feel his jaw tightening even without looking at it. Great Kali, you just have reminded him about the extinction of his whole race.

— I’m sorry I… I didn’t want… I just.... — I couldn’t swallow the lump in my throat, and my eyes already began to burn.

— How’s that I’m supposed to be the saviour of Eldarya when I can’t even help someone that’s in front of my eyes? How can I deserve all that admiration when I can’t even do that! I could have been Edgard, Lance, I could have ended up there just like him and DIE the way he did. He was scared, he didn’t deserve it, he just wanted to try and make a living! And The Oracle knows how many people are still out there! And I’m here, doing ABSOLUTELY nothing!— I could not help but let some sobs run free. It was impossible to remove Edgard’s presence from my mind.

It would not matter how many years have passed nor the many deaths I have witnessed. The cruel truth about life would not ever stop being impressive to me.

Oh dammit, how was I even supposed to be a mighty warrior when I struggled to face death?

I felt a soft grasp on my shoulder, and Lance turned me gently to face him.

— Kali, look at me. — Without any hesitation left, I raised my head to face his deep, ice stare. I was expecting some kind of annoyance, pity or maybe even indifference, but what I found was… Determination.

— You are not him. You were truly lucky you landed right in the HQ, and I know you tend to empathize with anyone, even with the ones who don’t precisely deserve it, — He left my eyes for a brief moment. Was he talking about himself? — but right now, there’s no use in thinking about the “what if”. It has happened, and there’s no chance of going back.

— You have to learn to accept that you can’t save everyone. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, how fast you run or the prowess you have upon your powers, you will never control everything that happens around you.

— The fact that you saved Eldarya doesn’t mean that you’re supposed to be perfect. And as I told you, It’s important to be aware of our capacities, but no one is invincible, not the dragons or the aengels. — His hand came to rest on my face, his thumb brushing away a tear running down my face. Determination never left his eyes, still locked with mine. — You may have become a legend, but you are still a person. — His hand was to leave my face, but I gingerly held his wrist to keep it in place.

— I see how willing you are to help everyone in need and improve every day, even though you have skipped the training of the obsidian guard for three weeks. — I genuinely laughed at that. When I learned that he was my boss I was completely horrified.

— Fine, I promise you’ll see me there in the next one. — I gave the dragon a small smile that he returned eagerly. After a satisfied nod, he spoke to me again.

— Listen… I still wanted to tell you that you were impressive, back there. — His hand began to stroke my cheek with his fingertip. I could feel the warmth gathering in my face. — I already knew you were a precious asset for The Guard, of course…

— But I realise now that you are… More than that. — More than that? More than that in which way?!?! At this point, I’m sure my cheeks were flushed with a crimson red, and he must have noticed too, cause he seemed pretty satisfied with it.

— Well, the last time we were together, we didn’t take much time to talk. — He smiled awkwardly and withdrew his hand.

We stayed in silence, side by side, facing the ocean, for several long minutes. There was something intimate about that moment. Strangely, being beside him was… Calming. After this conversation, I felt great. Much better than these past days.

I believed we finally recognized each other. Of course, not everything was forgiven nor forgotten, I hoped we had a chance to discuss our past but right now… I could finally breathe in peace beside him. I didn’t have to keep my guard up around the dragon anymore.

I mean, he could have let me drown in the depth of the ocean and say that it was an accident. Wait, what am I even saying? That wouldn’t work. He’s not incompetent enough to let anyone drown under his gaze. Fine, I won’t thank him for any of that.

But… He did seem truly concerned about my well-being. He has given me a helping hand several times when no one was looking, and even though that’s not enough to neglect his stubborn personality, and yet…

Suddenly, I was seized with doubt. Something strange was happening between us… My heart was racing like crazy, and a small wave of panic rushed through me. His piercing blue gaze was lost in the horizon, and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his eyes…

I recognized this feeling. It was very similar to the one I had when we were in memoria, at the forgotten cliff. That time, I still had a small hope that there was something good left in him, and maybe, just maybe, I was right, and this was what I was expecting.

Was it possible..? That he really… That he actually had changed? I couldn’t find the Lance that sunk his claws in his brother’s chest in the Lance that was standing beside me.

I was conflicted. I couldn’t forget the man who inspired my fear, the one I hated and hurt me several times, and at the same time, a new growing feeling was overflowing me.

I shouldn’t, I… It’s Lance! We never got along, and I don’t even think he even wants to, but I was hoping… What was I even hoping for?

I have to get a hold of myself and stop overthinking. I have experienced too many emotions in a few days, and I could always ponder about this with my head over my shoulders.

In the meantime, we were getting close to the HQ, and we would have to face the consequences of our actions in Genkaku.

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya ane #eldarya ne #eldarya lance #lance #lance eldarya #eldarya fanfic #eldarya fic #fic #fanfic #lance fic #Lance fanfic #Lance fanfiction #eldarya fanfiction #my writing #eldarya episode 6 #eldarya ANE episode 6 #eldarya 6×2

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