#we have passed the torch and now you guys are writing the fics for them it's great

[sugarsfics]

Crushing On The Babysitter

Summary: Eddie finally has the courage to ask out his crush. What happens when she is babysitting? Not just babysitting anyone, he little sheep. Those same sheep he just told that having a crush is force conformity.  

A/N: Hiiii I'm Sugar this is my first fic and so many more to come so enjoy;)

Warnings: Use of Y/N, fluff, horrible writing.

Word count: 1.0k

Eddie fake gags as he watches Lucas stare at Max with the biggest heart eyes ever. As he looks around the table, he sees that almost all the boys have their eyes on someone, except for Mike and Dustin who are arguing on who's girlfriends are better. “Boys!” he says as he slams his lunch box on the table. “ Have you all been taken in my the dark side of the female gaze” he continues “Yes they are nice to look at but would they really want to be with us, us freaks it is all just force conformity” Dustin pipes in “Well Mike and I do have girlfriends” “ Still not believing till I see them, but as I was saying before they want you to look to fall in love for you to buy them stupid crap and that money that you are spending to make your “lover” happy goes straight to the big man’s pocket, that is way I never had or never will have a crush” oh boy was that a lie. 

Eddie has been hung up on the same girl since 8th grade. Y/N L/N. Just like him you were an outcast, a nerd. Your older brother was the founder of Hellfire and was very welcoming to Eddie. Sophomore year, your brother graduated and passed on the torch to you. Eddie was head over heels for you but was too scared that you did not like him. Oh boy was he wrong. After having many talks with Uncle Wayne, he was ready to ask you out. He asks you to meet him in the Hellfire room but then he got the worst news of his life, he failed senior year. He spent the rest of the day in his van smoking and fell asleep. When he woke up it was 5 pm and ran out and the parking lot was empty, your car was nowhere to been found. He apologized the next day and asked to talk to you again tonight, but you were busy. He never got the courage again then you graduated leaving him behind.  

He got home we you on his mind, as if Uncle Wayne were reading his mind “You would never believe who I saw at the store today” “Who” “Y/N L/N” Eddie’s heart skipped a beat hearing your name “Really?” “Yeah, she said she has been in town for about a month-” “Do you know how long she is staying” “Boy I did not ask her 21 questions” Eddie got a ran to his room “What are you doing” Eddie comes out with a nicer shirt on, his wallet, and a letter “Doing something I should have done a long time ago.  

You have watched the boys every Friday and Saturday since they were 5. It was always Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will and you at your house or the wheeler’s basement playing D&D and watching movies. Even though you would have thought that you would stop watching the boys since they were now in high school but nope here there are. You plated the food for Mike, Dustin, and Lucas you almost grabbed a four plate out of habit for will, oh how you missed Will. Then the doorbell rang followed by rapid knocking. “Boys come eat” the three boys ran to the dining room. You open the door not excepting the person who was on the other side 

“Eddie?” he was frozen, how could you get more beautiful he thought. “Earth to Eddie” as you wave your hand in front of him. “Oh, sorry hi hey how are you” “I am doing great you?” “I am doing good oh oh these are for you” he brings beautiful boutique of red roses to your face. “Oh, wow thank you Eddie” “No problem I heard that they are the symbol of love so-” “EDDIE?” You both look behind you to see the boys staring at you guys. “Eddie what are you doing here with roses?" says mike Eddie’s face flushed a bright red “I- um – I – Well you see- I was-” “Boys go eat your dinner” “But-” “Now” they walk into the dining room but stay near the wall to hear you guys. “ I didn’t know you knew the freshman” “Yes those are my boys remember the littles one I used to babysit” “ Oh my god those are them” “Yeah isn't it crazy, but why did you stop by” “Oh yea well um listen so the night I stood you up I wanted to tell you something but then something happened, you the whole not graduating thing, then you got busy so um-” he spins and fishes something out of his pocket “ Here!” He gave you a letter. “What is this” “Read it, it will they you everything that I was going to tell you and so much more” he starts walking away until you pull his jacket “Stay, let me read it with you here with me” “Oh um yeah sure” he nervously laughs.

Dear Y/N I haven't got you out of my mind since the first day we met. I have been wanting to tell you this for so long but scared that your brother will banish me, or you just plain out would like me so here I goes. I really really really I could write so many really and it still would express how much I like you. You are funny, smart, beautiful, and so many more things and I really like you so much so will you give me a chance and go on a date with me? -Eddie M 

“Wow Eddie why didn’t you tell me this before” “I was too scared really” “Well that suck” “Sucks?” “Yeah because if you would have told me before you would have had yourself a girlfriend maybe now if you ask so kindly” “Wait really you like me too” “Duh” “Oh wow in that case Y/N L/N will you please let me, Eddie Munson, take you on a date and have the best night of your night” “ Yes” You make arrangements then kiss him on the cheek. The boys run to their seats as they are here the door closed “What” you look that the boys “Nothing” they say in unison. Oh boy were they going to tease Eddie Monday at school.  

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x babysitter!reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #sugarsfics #new writing blog #first fic #eddie my beloved

[pebblysand]

Helloo

So i just finished reading that ask about Harry as a wizard-cop, and i totally needed to read that. Like two days ago a friend told me she stopped reading HP when she found out that Harry wanted to be a cop (yeah she's dramatic like that, i love her). We talked about it a bit, and, like i always say to my friends "Yeah, JKR sucks, but fanfiction is awesome!" . And i remember mentioning castles to her, and one part that i can't find right now, it was very short, and it was harry working as part of the crowd-control team of people manifesting (is that how you say it?), he was in disguise i think (was that in castles? man! i read a lot of things at the same time and get confused ). And THAT was when the "WOW he's a cop" really sunk in, because, well i've been on the other side of that hittin-stick when i was a teenager (what's the name of that stick? you know, the stick that cops use to hit people) and well, i sort of wanted to burn all of my HP books after that (i didn't of course🫣).

Anyway i don't think i've ever read a canon compliant fic that adressed Harry's carreer choice the way you do, which i find sooo interesting and necessary. I have (i hope) grown up a bit since a was 16, and talked to a few cops (yeah teenage me is 😲), and some of them really start working in the police because they genuinely want to help. I didn't know what to say, because that's the same person who hits teenagers manifesting for more founds to public schooling, but also rescued a friend's mom from a violent relationship, which is, you know, a really good thing. I devoured those parts, when you describe this internal moral fight Harry has and the way he also grows up, from wanting to be an auror to "catch the bad guys", like a videogame, to facing all these dilemmas with it being a part of a goverment, with laws, regulations and obligations. Pffffff can you imagine dear Harry James following all those RULESSS?

ok so i've talked enough, love all your work!! i hope some of this makes sense lol. Have a great week!!

oh, i'm so glad you resonated with that! obviously, i have a lot of thoughts!

so, yes, that is in castles! it's chapter 11 after Kingsley's Ministry grants are handed out, thanks to the Blair loan:

Officially (and, for what it’s worth, even knowing his own feelings towards Kingsley, Harry honestly believes him on that one), most of the recovery grants were distributed to a selection of wizarding businesses deemed to have suffered the largest losses during the war. Applications were submitted in the month that followed the passing of the bill and the list of successful applications was compiled by Ministry staff on the basis of a complex matrix including the difference between pre-war and post-war turnovers, expenses incurred to repair the sometimes extensive damages suffered within the premises, the viability of their recovery plans, etc. It all sounded good - at least on paper. In actual fact, this thorough assessment led to an overwhelming number of grants being awarded to businesses owned by people generally known to have been on Kingsley and the Order’s so-called “side,” during the war. 

The moment the allocation decisions were made public, a wave of disgruntled Knockturn Alley shop owners found their way into the many offices of different press outlets across the country, soon expressing their innumerable grievances, and less-than-favourable opinions of the current government which, according to them, was operating under unconscionable biases. At the Burrow, this strategy enraged George (and, in her correspondence, Ginny, who’d spent hours with he and Ron going over Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’ accounting and writing their application) who slammed The Prophet against the kitchen table and expressed what sounded like a rather fair point: ‘Their bloody shops weren’t torched, were they?’ 

In response to this latest wave of criticism, the Head of Kingsley’s new Money Matters Department, Bernardus Dee-Poquets, gave a rather unfortunate interview on Radio 5, attempting to ‘give more context’ on the decisions made. Instead of smoothing things over, this position only further enraged the opposition, prompting a spontaneous protest to take place in Knockturn Alley with placards that read: WE DON’T NEED CONTEXT WE NEED GALLEONS! (which, frankly, Harry also couldn’t help but think was a fair point). 

He and the other Aurors were soon called in for ‘crowd control,’ an idea that began sounding terrible as soon as they were asked to put on their riot gear. On the way there, Robards added fuel to the fire by making it abundantly clear to whoever was willing to listen that this ‘peacekeeping’ operation had been forced upon him by the Head of the DMLE and was neither his choice, nor his idea, which in turn meant that no one in the Auror ranks actually wanted to go in. That day, Harry’s afternoon began with their unit chief whispering in his ear to make his hair blond and hide his scar with make-up again, ‘just-in-case,’ and ended with incapacitating shots being fired from all sides, fumigation potions thrown at a mob they’d kettled in on Burke Street, and a spell that sliced Harry’s arm open, landing him in the mediwizards’ tent for the second time in less than six months. Until he regained the full use of his fingers a couple days later, the letters he wrote to Ginny looked like they had been drafted by a six year old child. 

Since then, most of the office has been reluctant to do - well - anything beyond the bare minimum, doing nothing to help Robards’ staffing problems. Half the Aurors on Harry’s floor have now repeatedly called in sick for a few days at a time with increasingly more outrageous excuses ranging from ‘sleepiness,’ to ‘dragon pox,’ and even once: ‘wandrot’ - a wizarding disease that Harry unfortunately decided to ask about at lunchtime in the middle of the trainees’ table. Katie Bell almost choked on a piece of broccoli and Ron’s whole face turned scarlet. The resulting explanation made Harry feel irrationally protective of the most intimate parts of his body for the rest of the afternoon. 

---

and, like, yeah, it's funny, but it's also - not, you know? i think i want this moment to sound like a "fun" anecdote but i think it also feeds into what i was saying in the original post, about the post-war low-level "crime" that feels somewhat endemic and unsolvable. here, of course, it's knockturn alley shop owners, which i suppose we all don't have much sympathy for, but perhaps, we should? the thing about the post-war wizarding economy is that it's full of petty crime and black market stuff and disgruntled demonstrations - because these people have spent years trying to survive and make a living under the hold of an authoritative government, and now not only is democracy not really bringing in money, but it's also preventing them from operating the way they used to. and even if it's nothing at scale, i think the endlessness of it kind of wears down your morale, as a ministry employee.

as you very rightly say, i think most people who join police forces aren't horrible people. like, sure, a percentage of them just wants to beat people up and get paid to do it, but that's not the majority. i think for the most part, there's a lot of big-eyed kids like harry who just want to "save" people. and then, you get called in to these ops and you start realising that "crowd control" is a scam and that putting people in jail is a bit pointless when what is being held against them is just trying to survive and feeding their families. and, of course, there's also multiple aspects to this, because they also sometimes do intervene in stuff that is useful like domestics and stuff (although, there's this whole thing about how police often doesn't believe women, but that's a whole different debate). so, i think, with harry's "early" time at the ministry, i wanted to show the different layers to that.

and, it's funny cause i expected to get a lot of angry comments about harry becoming a hit wizard because of the sort of violence that is associated with those kinds of departments, but i actually didn't. i think the above is sort of the reason why he joins though. it's like: he wants to save people, and that's what they do. their operations are big enough, it's never petty crime, they have a lead (hawk) who knows what he's doing and who can make difficult decisions, and they get in, intervene, and get out. it's not about fighting disgruntled shop owners, you know? or pointless trafficking of magical objects. and, it’s also not detective-like investigative work which, frankly, i don’t think he has much patience or focus for. especially, feeling kind of like a nameless cog in the investigative machine. to me, the hit wizards was the only way to make auror!harry work within the "reality" of what the police force is.

(i think that stick is called a "baton?" i know the term to "baton charge". english speakers - please confirm 😆. in french, it's a matraque.)

but anyway, thank you so much for your kind words, i'm so glad you enjoyed those parts. i have a lot more in store for harry-as-an-auror throughout the fic, so it's lovely to see people enjoy it!

#castles #asked and answered

[wlxn-hkr9hejqgq]

Chapter 1

Word Count:

4642

Warning:

This is a Fanfic Rewrite and low key fix it fic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfea, the College of Fairies, the stepping stone of Teenage Fairies.It has turned Girls into Women and created Heroes out of them, the Prime Example would be the Winx Club, who now Teach at the very School that taught them so much and now passing the torch to those younger than them.

A Knee-length Red-Orange haired woman re-adjusted her parted Bangs, as she carried a small luggage which contained anything from Test Assignments to Clothes, she got out of the Magix Bus, the Girl took a deep breath and exhaled, as muttered under her Breath,

"Can't believe I'm finally here...time to get to Work"

She looked down and as she got into the School Gate, she soon got confronted by Freshman Students, they crowded around her asking for Selfies, Autographs and wanting to know if they would get taught by her in School,

"There she is!"

"Bloom! Will you teaching my Class?"

"Bloom could you sign my Book about Earth?!"

"Would you take a Picture with us?"

At this point, Bloom is pretty used to the Crowds of Students and was about to move on her own excuse herself, but she didn't expect Stella to come and pull her out of there, she asked in a Hushed tone,

"Do you have a Pen this time?"

"Uh yeah I uh didn't think about that"

Stella sighed as Bloom laughed abit nervously, took out her pen, and enchanted it to write her Autograph, it zoomed and went to people's notebooks and Sketchbooks as Stella and Bloom quietly get out of the crowd and went into the Entrance Hall where the Rest of the Winx Club were.

They were Breathless, sweating even and Aisha spoke up in a concerned tone as she raised her Eyebrows a little bit,

"Jeez what happened to you guys?"

Stella responded back in quick but tired and sassy tone,

"Oh nothing just crowds, being unnecessarily Famous, same old same old, the Typical Monday Morning"

Aisha sighed and replied back to them, she understands immediately ever since the defeat of Tritannus, studying the New Syllabus and returning to Teaching Position, Freshman Students ought to be excited, Musa and Tecna added some of their thoughts too,

"Ah I feel you, I got asked by countless Students whether I'll be teaching Gym and Combat classes"

"Some asked whether I could make a Robotics Club"

"Freshman Students just asked me whether we could have Jazz Club"

"I understood the Combat Class part but Gym? Since when did Alfea have a Gym?"

Bloom asked and Flora was about to reply then Faragonda came down the steps along with the rest of the staff,

"Winx! It's so good to see you all again, I hope you all have rested well"

"Miss Faragonda! And yes we're doing just fine, you wanted to meet us why is that?"

Flora asked curiously, that's why they were in the Entrance Hall, they were waiting for them,

"Well as you may know, Alfea is going through a partial Renovation, we are going to have a state of the Art Gymnasium, Technology Sector and a simple Music Cafe, this would probably be disturbance to your Classes so we would like you all to attend an Opening Ceremony"

The Winx Club looked at each other a bit confused this was recent news to them, not even Tecna knew of it, Faragonda replied to them,

"It is the Re-opening ceremony of the New and Improved Linphea College of Fairies, since we can't be there ourselves due to the amount of Freshman Students this month's intake, we would like you all to represent Alfea over there"

Flora's eyes went wide when she heard Linphea,

"My Sister Miele just enrolled there! We have to go there"

The Winx hadn't seen Miele since the Valtor incident of their Senior Year, Roxy never met her before and only heard though Mentions by Flora, it was decided they would be going to Linphea College.Faragonda also added,

"The Specialists will be there too, they are holding a Open Arena Training and Performance for the School against their Paladins"

"Wait the Paladins? Like Professor Avalon?"

Stella asked and Professor Avalon nodded and replied,

"Yes but these Paladins are still in Training it will take years to even get to my Level especially in the usage of Wings, now get Ready, you all, don't keep the Specialists waiting"

The Winx Club quickly went to their Rooms, Bloom lagged behind, she placed her hand on her chest and breathed in and out before Griselda tapped her shoulder, her tone Less strict than usual,

"Bloom are you alright?"

She looked up and a small smile plastered onto her face,

"I'm fine Griselda thank you for asking"

Bloom quickly ran off and Griselda sighed looking at Faragonda and telling her,

"Faragonda I worry that Bloom is not adjusting, she seems more off than usual"

"Give her some Time Griselda, Bloom has faced Adversity before, this one is no different, it's harsher but everyone needs to grow up and leave the nest eventually"

They leave the Entrance Hall to Greet the students, Bloom told herself,

"It's not going to be awkward, It's not going to be awkward, he's King of Eraklyon now, It's not going to be awkward, It's not going to be awkward-"

She says that until she got into her Room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the Linphea College Arena, the Specialists were preparing Combat performances and doing training with the Paladins, among the Crowd, the man with Ashen Brown hair blend into it seamlessly, his Weapon hidden as a Ring on his Rough fingers, he was dressed in Paladin Trainee Uniforms, those of Red and in the middle of their chests contains a yellow colored gem.It in a way tracks the Trainees around the Campus, but it was easy to fool in this situation.

The Man felt his Companion's words pops into his head, 'Found it yet?' The Man Telepathically responded, 'No I just got there, security was tighter than I thought but no one has found me'The Man was walking around, pretending to do something, than soon saw the Arena training happening in front of him.

The Specialists were Teachers, Interns to be exact, they were dressed in Blue versions of the Paladin Trained Armor, they looked brand new, 'Hmm they seem to be Prototype Armour pieces and not the standard hmm alright then'The Man said to himself in his Head before hearing the Specialists greet them,

"For Today's Training, we will be Trying out the Prototype Phantoweapons that will be used by Linphea College Solely"

"None of us know what these Weapons can do either"

Sitting on a small Golden Table with a Wood covering, there sits a Hilts of Blades, Wooden Sticks and Firearms, the man was little impressed with the Selection,

"We'll demonstrate the Usage of the weapons and we will select one of you to attack us...if you can"

One of the Teachers and Specialists, Riven, replied as he picked out his Weapon, a Khukuri with Glowing Purple Energy around 18 inches long, he looked around and soon points to the man,

"You there! What's your name?"

The Man looked up, he was trying to leave but he was called and so he introduced himself,

"The Name's Thoren"

Thoren walked to the Center of the Arena and asked,

"So just to be Clear, I could use any weapon right?"

"Yeah dude come on Im itching for a fight"

"Oh then I'll just have to use my fists"

The Specialists looked at the match, they were abit worried for the Outcome for using Fists against blades were not good and they were teachers, but Riven does not care, he likes the attitude,

"Bring it then!"

Riven drew his blade and lunged forward, he slashed left and right in which Thoren dodged, he jumped off the blade and backflip kick before landing in his Stance, it drew an open fist, one facing up and another facing down, his leg at the front was standing up at the ball of his feet while keeping parallel with his other foot which was on the ground.

The Paladins and The Specialists looked intrigued at the battle before them, Thoren was holding back, he had to anyway besides this was simply a Sparring Session to him, there was an awkward silence between them before striking, Riven went in for Slash with his Moon Khukuri and a wave of Magical Energy came out from the Weapon from each slash, Thoren dodged the first Wave and slice of Energy hitting just near his cheek then jumped over the second one, Thoren sighed to himself and whispered to himself,

"Time to end this"

He launched himself forward and punched his solar plexus, Riven lost his footing, Thoren took advantage of that and quickly disarmed his Sword and let him fall to the ground as he held the Moon Khukuri almost like a Dagger but pointing it directly at him.

Thoren and Riven looked at each other, Riven hadn't seen someone that fought so daringly, unarmed even, he smirked as Thoren stretched out his hand and he took as he stood up, they complimented each other,

"That was some good movement but I can tell you were holding back"

"Yes I was and but you too was also doing that, so we can call it even"

Thoren went back to the crowd, but separated from it besides he was here to get his Companion, Selina, something, Brandon nervously smiled, he cleared his throat before saying,

"Alright that was a good demonstration! Who's Next?"

Meanwhile with the Winx Club, which was about 2 hours later, they reached Linphea with Stella's Ring, Flora looked around the Nature of her Realm,

"Oh Linphea how I miss you!"

"Flora! Winx!"

They turned her head around and saw a Pre teenage girl with a Light Tan and had Ginger Orange coloured high ponytail and decorated with some flowers on her hairband, she wore a Pink and Yellow flowery dress and her shoes are green and pink.Flora hadn't lived in Linphea for awhile ever since her mission to Earth and the Tritannus Incident, but it did not take her a second to not recognise the Person running towards them.

It was Miele, but of course siblings being Siblings, Flora pretended to not know her,

"Oh who are you strange person?"

"Flora I'm trying to have a moment with you can you please not?"

"Gasp! How do you know my name little one"

"I'm not Littl- Flora...Winx is Flora Broken?"

Initially the Winx Club didn't want to participate in this Chaotic Banter but the opportunity was too good to pass up, starting with Bloom and ending with Aisha, except Roxy...she didn't know what's going on.

"Oh I have no idea who you are"

(Bloom)

"Winx Club what Winx Club?, we are the Stellar Club"

(Stella)

"I'm not with them I was simply passing by with my band Musa and the Muses"

(Musa)

"I think we are missing the point but who is this girl?"

(Tecna)

"What was your name?... Petals? Gypso?"

(Aisha)

"What is going on here?"

Miele and Roxy said at the same time before everyone started laughing and Flora replied saying,

"Oh hahaha you should've seen your face!"

Miele was so done and just rolled her eyes and whistled, the Sound of Giant Insect wings were heard and landing to the ground were the Giant Ladybugs, Miele hopped onto one of them and said to them in a sarcastic tone,

"Oh I can just leave right now since you're not the Winx Club~"

"Okay okay We're sorry Miele and yes I remember you....still very little"

"IM NOT"

"Yes you are cause you're still my Little Sister"

"You're such a bother sometimes"

The Winx got onto the Ladybugs, Stella has lost her fear of Ladybugs just LADYBUGS, Flora sat on a Ladybug and pet one of them and said to Miele teasingly,

"Don't say that, you love me too much"

Miele rolled his eyes and soon the Ladybugs took off, flying through the Sky, looking down they saw the City of Trees, Flower Village, across the Shimmering Flowers Valley and it's Roots living in the Ocean of Flowers and the Water Stairway to the Black Willow.Memories from their adventures flood back to them then up and flying over the Lush greenery and Woods of Linphea, they soon reached Linphea College or rather the New and Improved name is Linphea High.

It was no longer a College, it was a High School for Fairies.It consists of waterfalls with Large green Canyon with Plants of all kinds, the School took a Circular sort of Shape with a Large and Open Area.The High School looks guarded by Large Trees and last but not least the Arena was at the Center display almost like a Colosseum.

Tecna pointed out to the Arena,

"Look! It's the Specialists"

They saw the Arena filled with the Specialists training the Paladins for one last demonstration of tactics and Combat, and of the new weapons that they hold.While Landing, Aisha frowned and saw Roy going up against a light navy blue haired Paladin with side burns, fair skin, and light hazel-colored eyes. He usually wears a pair of piercings on his left ear, he was beating Roy, who was using a Sword made of Yellow Green Thunder energy, and Nex holding a War Scythe in which the blade was almost Invisible, you could see a shimmer of it if you're perceptive enough.

Aisha shouted to Roy and to motivate him,

"Go Roy! Give him Hell!"

Roy turned to Aisha a little before concentrating on the Battle as he was briefly knocked to the ground but he stabbed his Sword to the ground to cause Friction to be in his favour, he dodged a thrust of Nex's Scythe and a blunt hit from the blunt end of the Weapon.

Roy noticed the shimmering invisible blade and frowned as he threw his Sword at Nex which almost as if it turned into a Lightning Bolt and barely graze Nex's cheek but Roy quickly jumped and kicked him to the ground and grabbed his Sword mid-air and pin Nex to the ground with his Foot and placed his sword on his neck,

"Yield"

"Tch fine I yield"

Roy sighed and placed his foot off him and stretched his hand out,

"That was good combat skills though nearly had me"

"Yeah nearly...HAH!"

Roy caught off guard saw a Phantoblade Dagger nearly reached his neck but then Pink goo came and rescued him, sealing off Nex hand with a blast of Morphix and disarming his dagger, Aisha cast that spell and picked Roy up,

"Roy are you alright?!"

"Yeah...Yeah I'm fine...I just didn't expect that"

Aisha looked at Roy passionately before giving that same amount of Passion to Nex but in a completely different way, Aisha calmed herself down and replied to Nex,

"This is a Civilized Training Session, it's a chance to learn from each other and perfect each other's Skills, but the only Skill you perfected so far is how to get a big head"

Aisha walked off with Roy, who did not expect to be Defended like that but he's not against it, Nex wiped the dirt off his face and looked away, standing up and Walking off.

The Winx Girls went to greet their Boyfriends, the Party to set up for the Opening of Linphea High, all except Bloom, she wandered around the Campus, Sky wasn't present in this event so she wasn't as tensed...until she felt it.

"Huh?...What the"

A wave of Energy almost like the Wind flowed past her, she looked around in confusion but ignored the Feeling, 'Its probably nothing, new place, new shivers' She thought to herself, she saw Flora and Miele stood Infront of 8 Massive Trees, and went towards them.

"Hey Flora, Hey Miele what are these?"

"Oh Bloom! These are called the Tree Ents, not much is known about them but what we do know is that they were here before the construction of the School and now acts as the School's Natural Defense System"

Miele explained and Flora touched one of the Tree Ents's massive Roots, she exclaimed in delight,

"There is so much life in single touch! It's incredible"

Bloom smiled, perhaps that Bad Feeling she was feeling isn't going to happen at all.

Meanwhile, Thoren went to the Second Floor of Linphea High, he looked around and found the Library, it was Rock cut design room with Books of all kinds, from History of the Linphea, Theories of the Magical Dimension and a mere Book about Botany, there wasn't anyone in but the Librarian was present.

"Tch"

He went in and the Librarian greeted him,

"Excuse me, no one else is supposed to be up here until the Opening of the Campus, please leave"

"Understood"

Thoren replied, then he put out his Weapon and knocked the Librarian unconscious and entering the Restricted Section of the Library, looking through the Scroll section and soon found a Dusty,tattered and torn leather scroll with a Lapis Lazuli gem embeded in it, Thoren Smirked.

He connected his mind to his Partner in Crime, 'I found the Scroll, you got a base for us?' Words appeared in his head, 'Yes Cloud's Tower will soon be ours...get back here...but take your time' Thoren exited the Restriction Section, but the sudden ring of the Alarm flared and soon the stomping of the Guards was heard nearby, Thoren covered his mouth and Concealed his Identity, he said to his partner in his head, 'I need a Distraction, Powerful Fairies down there especially that Dragon Flame Holder'

Words Sprung in his head once more, 'Noted, I got the Perfect tale' Thoren got his Weapon out, a an old looking Phantoblade Halberd with Red Wood surrounding it and a portion of it looks like a gun, he faced the Experienced Paladin before him as the Room goes dark, only the Red flares of Alarm remains, Thoren gets ready for Combat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silena thought it would be Hard, she honestly thought it would be Hard to infiltrate the School of Witches, like minded individuals that deal with the darkness of Magic, the Ironic thing about this is that the Shield was a Magic Spell on the side of Good and it just bamboozled her completely,

"Well this is just sad, relying on Positive Energy solely on the spell"

Silena entered the Building, she was still being cautious, she is Adult looking and infiltrating the school as a College student... however no one questioned her, Silena was so confused, the two teachers, Professor Ediltrude and Zarathustra, did not question her and immediately let her in as one of the Freshman, Silena is Evil yes but even she has standards as a professional, 'They didn't even check, I just could've strolled in? Who made this system?' Silena is freaking out internally but her tough exterior says otherwise.

She joined in line with the rest of the Freshman with Auditorium, seeing the Senior Witches, she could only be disgusted these Witches didn't learn Jackshit, Silena thought once more in her head, 'Okay I'm just going to take over, all of these people here are meat suits and shields let's go' She waited for the Headmistress to come, a tall lady with pale greenish white skin, and has a hooked nose, her purple hair that is pulled up into a shape similar to that of pointy hats worn by Ancient witches, with two lighter purple strands on either side. She also wears heavy make-up around her eyes.

The Headmistress introduced herself and began her small speech,

"Welcome Back Everyone! To the Freshman, my name is Headmistress Griffin, the current Principal of Cloud's Tower, it will also be my final year as Headmistress!"

Mutters of disbelief was among the Crowd of Senior and Junior Witches as Headmistress Griffin has been teaching for so long even before their time, as soon as the Mutters stop via a thousand yard stare of Headmistress Griffin, she continued,

"With each new Harvest of the Year, a young crop will always survive the Reaping, you all are the young Crops, young Witches that shall fine-tune and sharpen their Craft to the fullest extent"

As she walked the Center she continued and concluded her speech,

"Here in Cloud's Tower you will become Modern Witches, ones that will help those Pixies in aspect of Darkness, but you all shall prove your worth first"

She referred the Fairies as Pixies, Silena frowned as she heard Modern Witches are to help the aspect of Good, she held that thought in disdain as Griffin invited the freshman to show off their craft, Silena stepped forward and Griffin noticed her,

"You there, what's your Name? And where did you come from?"

"My name is Silena, I come from no realm, but a Nomadic Tribe from Dyamond"

"Dyamond? The Council of Magic lost contact with that Realm for a long time"

"I've never been there myself, I just know my tribe came from there"

This was a Lie, Silena has a connection to Dyamond but never familial, it was something different almost contractual,

"Your Craft? What is it?"

Silena summoned a Grimoire of great Power, the roots of a tree was seen on the Cover, Silena smiles as she opened the Grimoire and says,

"This is the Legendarium, I hold the power to bring Storybook characters from all of the Magic Dimension's Folklore to life, and twist them to my will"

"Oh my...go on"

Looking down at the pages of the Grimoire, was the page dedicated to the Gloomywood Trolls, Silena gave small smirk and read out,

"This is the Story of Gloomywood Trolls, Creatures that once walked the forests of the Magic Dimension exerting their Dominance over the realms, had it not been the Ancient Pixies of all the Realms, the trolls would've kept spreading"

"Ah yes that used to be my favourite bedtime story while growing up, if I recall, most of the Trolls are Chained underneath the grounds of Pixie village"

"That's right and now let's wreck some havoc"

Silena held the book up and she heard her partner, Thoren, in Linphea had found the Scroll of Astraea and just in time for a need for a distraction.The Winds Howled and the Windows burst open as Silena lift her hand, the Legendarium glowed Purple and Green, Dark Shadows swirled and formed around her legs and up into the Air,

"Legendarium, Bring me Storybook Monsters to Life!"

Griffin couldn't believe it, all of her senses was telling her to run at the sight of this magic, it wasn't Negative nor Positive, Good nor Evil, but it was certainly powerful, the Whole school of Young Witches were Blinded by sheer Power of the Legendarium, some turn away or even put up Shields.

"Gloomywood Trolls unchained once more, claim the Vengeance you sought after!"

The Spirits of Trolls were seen coming out of the Book, it's Cage, it's Confines and it was finally Free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Party was being set up, Bloom helped out along the Girls to distract herself from the Thoughts in her head, Stella was fixing up Dresses for the Staff Members, Musa and Tecna was handling Sound Production with Linphea College's Local Club, Flora was with her Sister and Helia, Aisha was patching up Nex's Wounds and Roxy was tending to the Animals of the Tree Ents.

Bloom was focusing so much on distracting herself that she didn't notice this part of Campus, it was only when caught a glimpse of a Paladin with Ashen Brown hair with a face mask zoom past her, their eyes met for a passing moment before hearing a School Siren play,

"CODE WOOD, CODE WOOD, ALL SENIOR PALADINS AND FAIRIES INTO POSITIONS!"

"HOSTILE IN SIGHT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT THIS IS NOT-"

The Siren sound fizzled out Aburptly and Bloom was about to act but seven rings were heard from their Phones and all came from the Winx Club, the Winx came together and opened the message, Faragonda's holographic image came out,

"Girls get back to Magix! We're under attack!"

The Winx gasped and Stella asked,

"By what? Miss Faragonda we can deal with it!"

Faragonda shakes her head and replied, her mouth shaky, her face was covered in sweat, on closer inspection there bruises on her face,

"It's a Legendary Creature I can't explain it to you at the moment!"

Stella looked at Bloom in confusion then Roxy asked,

"Just a brief description please Miss Faragonda tell us!"

As Roxy asked, Faragonda stood up from her office chair, the Headmistress burst into Action and she erratically fired spells at Supposed Beast, the Roar was deafening even through the Tele communication, the Winx Girls were unsure what to make of the Situation but we're deeply disturbed when the communication started to fade, Aisha asked Tecna,

"Tecna can you-"

"On it!"

Tecna raised her hand, her technology powers tried to maintain stability of the devices connecting to Communication between them but it backfired, a blast from their devices threw Tecna to the ground,

"Tecna!"

Musa, Flora and Roxy gathered around her and helped her up the Ground, before the communication and Holographic Image faded, the Winx Saw the Creatures appear behind Faragonda and Roxy gasped.

Transmission was lost.

Roxy said out,

"Those were Gloomywood Trolls, I heard of them in a Myth and Monsters Course! I thought they were just a Myth"

Tecna shook her head and said,

"That's a bold reason but illogical it could be something else"

Musa clenched her Fist and said,

"Whatever it is, it was strong and we need to do something!"

The Girls turned to Bloom, as Bloom gathered the strength to speak out as the Leader of the club, she felt something tugging at heart but shook off the feeling as something inconvenient and said to her friends,

"Musa and Tecna are right, we don't know what those things are but the people at Magix are going to get hurt"

"What about the Sirens?"

Flora asked in concern and Bloom thought hard, as much as she dislikes the thought was spiltting up but considering the severity of Magix and Linphea she was put into a Standstill but Miele had other plans as she said to them,

"Magix is the Central Control of the Magic Dimension, it's where most of the Council of Magic live and sit, if Magix falls then we all fall"

"Miele..."

"Don't Worry me and My school can handle this, I'm sure of it!"

The Naivety of a Child was painful to Watch but the Winx had always believed in the Positive scenarios but yet the Worry was still there,

"Miele be careful okay? We don't know who or what this Hostile is at Linphea, fight well and fight Smart, just like what Dad said"

"Just like what Dad said..."

Miele looked at her big sister and nodded before heading to help her friends, the Winx club ran passed the guests and other students, Bloom briefly saw Sky but that's not important right now, lives were in Danger.

Brandon, Riven and Nex joined up with the Girls and headed to the Red Fountain Aircraft, soon they flew over the Realm of Magix, Bloom got her Girls together,

"Girls are you Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Here we go!"

The girls had fought so many battles, maybe this would be Regular fight, nothing Special and that's a good thing, but this was Different.Bloom felt the tugging in Heart, she doesn't know what this feeling but once again shook it away as she focused on the most Important thing right now.

To Save Lives

"Magic Winx! Enchantix!"

#fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfiction #winx #winx club #winx fanfic #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #winx rewrite #winx aisha #winx blood and bone au #winx bloom #winx layla #winx flora #winx musa #winx tecna #winx roxy #winx thoren #winx selina #winx season 6 #winx enchantix #Youtube

[rabbit-exe]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

SO UH

I, rowan, have written many things in my life. this is a true fact about me. I have only posted ONE of those things on ao3 BUT I have google docs! about characters no-one knows about except the people I play dnd with! as such I shall compile some into ao3 format for your viewing pleasure

the one on ao3 is called shame, and it's about a guy having the Worst Times Of His Life surrounded by two absolutely insane people. fallen london is a lovely setting because it lets you get nasty get weird

NEXT ONE! for your convenience it is now on archive of our own: murder be thy name. just a little jaunt through the life and times of, well. murder. the person. person edition.

now we also have the sun in your eyes, the devil in your shadow, about a feral young gunslinger and the cat that won't leave her alone. yes I have DND brainrot ok I love these characters and I am rotating them in the microwave of my mind

THAT'S IT! you shall get no more from me! (bloodborne yharnamite voice, shaking a torch) away! away! run in the direction of these weirdos (affectionate) as I am about to send them this game!

@cloudmancy their stuff gave me brainworms. what can I say. @humanbeanisnotamused once again: brain. worms. wurrums.

@onearthbrieflygorgeous my beloved noah, who writes things and is So Normal I promise

@crisis-response-specialist my beloved nat, who also writes things and is the DM of our Badlands DnD game, in which some Characters Did Things

#ask game #fic writing #hare.txt

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

update: I broke down and went on FF to see if I could find old eclare fic and y’all won’t believe it.

THERE ARE PEOPLE STILL WRITING FOR THEM!!! ON FANFICTION DOT NET!!! IN 2021!!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES HONEST TO GOD!!

THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY GOD FUCKIN BLESS YOU ALL

#degrassi #eclare #I am DELIGHTED #I'm shocked it's still going #not only is ff.net kind of dying out #but like eli and clare aren't even ON the show anymore #GUESS IT DOESN'T MATTER FANDOM NEVER DIES #so you guys still have eli call clare 'blue eyes'? #that's a fucking Staple #we have passed the torch and now you guys are writing the fics for them it's great #bold of me though to assume it's new people and now some old ones who're still hanging on #y'all are great too #however this does mean that if ppl are making fic of them then there's still interest #which then means ppl might be snooping around ff for fic of eclare #which THEN could mean ppl could still be finding my horrific old fanfics of them which should never see the light of day

[satoruswifeyyy]

FOREVER MINE

Type: one-shot

Fic: Kuroo Tetsuro x gn!reader

Warnings: ANGST, major character death, mentions of blood, fluff

Note: I wanted to write something hella angsty and I also found out the haikyuu fandom LOVES angst like me so enjoy!!!!

☆☆☆☆☆

“It’s not funny anymore guys!” Kuroo chuckled as he entered into an abandoned tunnel. He adjusted his eyes to the dingy dark tunnel to see one candle burning and near it a person sitting and reading a book. “What’s a beautiful person like you doing here at a time like this?” he walked towards you, tipsy. Maybe having too many shots wasn’t the way to go. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing here?” you asked gently as you closed the book with your pointer finger in it as a bookmark. “My friends are playing a prank on me,” he said looking around “It’s not funny anymore and we really have to head home now!’’ he said loud enough for anyone around the tunnel to hear. You and him looked around anticipating for someone to jump out but he got silence back as a reply.

“I guess your friends have left you behind by mistake…” You said going back to reading your book. “You still didn’t answer me.” He said sitting near you and leaning his back on the mossy wall. “Just reading.” You said flipping to the page. “That’s a good book you got there.” He said glancing at the cover. “I’m surprised people read this. It’s a masterpiece but everyone hates it…” “I know right?” you said closing the book once more.

“What’s your favorite part?” he asked with excitement brushing his words. “It’s cheezy,” you said smiling slightly “But the part when he confesses his undying love for her.” You said looking at him. “That’s my favorite part of the book too!” Kuroo said looking at you “But it’s a shame he dies a year later.” Kuroo’s eyes that had so much light had dimmed a little. “He broke his promise though.” You said equally dull “You are my forever and I will always be with you.” He quoted the book and closed his eyes.

“How do you think she would’ve felt after his passing?” you asked him as you leaned back on the wall as well. “I don’t think the author described it properly…” He said and immediately shaked his head “forget talking about that! I feel I’ll go on and on until I get sober.” He said laughing. “Who told you to read this book?” He asked looking at you. You looked back at him this time with eyes that bore so much pain and sadness and said softly “You did.” Kuroo’s eyes widened. Before he could react, he heard sirens.

“Sir, wake up!” Kuroo opened his eyes and looked around to see a medic holding a torch to his face on his right and his friends all concerned to his left. “I didn’t get their name.” He tried sitting up “Who are you talking about sir? Was somebody here with you?” Kuroo turned and pointed to the place near him shocked “I-I- They were right here!” He said frantically looking around for you.

A while later, Kuroo was in the hospital bed, opposite to him were his parents and to his left were two police officers “I’m telling you, mum! There was a person and they were reading the book! Believe me, please!” Kuroo was losing his mind. He swore he saw you and you weren’t a figment of his imagination. “What did that person look like?” The dad finally spoke for the first time. Kuroo went ahead and described every little detail he knew of you to one of the police officers that drew you. “Is this the person you saw?” Kuroo nodded quickly and saw his mum break down in tears while his dad looked at him blankly. “Sir, this was your ex-girlfriend Y/n L/n.”

Almost as if Kuroo had unlocked a set of memories, it all came flooding to him. He remembered everything!

-flashback-

“You should totally read this book.” Kuroo said giving his favorite book to you in the library. “And why would I take something like a book from a stranger?” you asked as you took the book “Because this stranger looked at this beautiful person and wants to get to know them more.” he said with a wink. You didn’t know whether you wanted to cringe or laugh “Kuroo Tetsuro.” he said stretching out his hand. “Y/n L/n.” You shook his hand with a smile. That day you sat near him and read the book in one sitting “Are you crying?” He asked trying to hold in his laughter “Shut up!” you said as you covered your face and sniffled. You both would meet up at the library every day until you said “I like you, Tetsu. Let’s go on a date.” Kuroo fell madly in love with you, not because you asked him out first but because you were brave and kind hearted.

“You are my forever and I will always be with you.” You said looking at him. You were laying on his lap on your bed. “That’s supposed to be my line since I’m the knight in shining armor.” He said as he ran his fingers through your hair. “No, I’m the knight in shining armor and you’re my princess.” You said with a small smile. Kuroo nodded and kissed you gently on your lips “And I will be yours and you mine.” He said, quoting the princess. Days became weeks and week became months. “I’m leaving now, Love.” You said grabbing the toast on his plate and kissing his cheek. “I love you!” he said waving you good bye “I Love you more” you said as you shut the door and left.

Kuroo stood in shock as he saw your body still on the floor surrounded by a pool of blood. “N-no.” Kuroo said under his breath moving towards your body even though every part of him trembled at the sight of what was in front of him. He knelt down and made you lie on your back. A huge cut on cut stomach and Kuroo lost it. “Wake up! You promised! WE PROMISED!” tears ran down his face as he held you close “You should’ve let me be the knight in shining armor.” He said crying into your lifeless body. “Please come back…” His voice desperate for his wish to come true.

-end of flashback-

“3 weeks after that you got into an accident chasing the guy that murdered. ” Kuroo’s dad said. “You lost your memories and we had kept it that way because we didn’t want to lose you too.” His mum added. Kuroo was worse than devastated at that point. He got out of his bed and went to the grave searching for your stone and there it was staring at him “You are my forever and I will always be with you.” – Y/n L/n. ���And I will be yours and you mine.” He said to you one last time.

☆☆☆☆☆

That's it! I hope you liked it!

#haikyuu kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x you #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #nekoma #haikyuu oneshot #kuroo tetsuro x you #anime angst #kuroo angst

[amintyworld]

Child of The Dome (SBI Rust Server)

Platonic Wilbur Soot x Reader and Tommyinnit x Reader. We got Dadbur and Big Broinnit... It’s all about the found family, folks!

A/N: *Gets a SBI Rust fic idea* *Looks up to see its not written and no one is interested in writing it* *Realizing YOU’RE the one who can write it into existence* As a reminder, this is all RP - THE RUST SERVER HAS LORE, GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS! Also, reader is gender neutral. Enjoy! - Minty

TW: Murder, Major Character Death (Kind of, they can respawn?), Religious Themes, Cult-like behavior, Kidnapping, Cannibalism, Cursing, child abuse (?), shooting/gun violence, sickness. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

Thunder and lightning roared outside of the Dome Church as Wilbur and Tommy sat inside, continuing their sermon to a few others despite the weather conditions. Just a few hours earlier, Sofa had objected when the rain began to leak through the roof, and was promptly locked outside as punishment, which seemed to quickly quiet a few complaints from the others. “Now, my people, you shall not live in fear of the storm for the Dome will protect all who preach and live its word!” Wilbur said, standing at the podium. “Persevere and the Dome will reward you!”

Murmurs of agreement seemed to sweep through the crowd as their feet shivered - bare, wet and cold. They rose to their feet slowly as Iamty began to play the piano and they hummed along with the tune, their spirits beginning to be lifted. Water seeped into their clothes and chills ran down their spine but nonetheless they stood as Seepeekay, the known Minister, began his prepared speech over the music. Tommy walked through the aisle, holding out a basket for donations as the churchgoers threw whatever they could think to offer inside. 

Suddenly a loud knock came from the door - panicked and urgent.

Wilbur grumbled at the interruption, weaving his way through the crowd and opening the door. “Sofa, you have to relearn the Dome’s ways before you can-'' Words died on his lips as Sophie looked to Wilbur worried, a small bundle in her arms. The baby’s cries blended with the thunder and lightning from above, and Wilbur’s eyes scanned the child’s in curiosity.

“Wilbur, I found them outside near the Dome, they’re freezing cold I dunno what to-!” Wilbur’s mind whirred as it began to put the pieces together, frozen in place and not knowing exactly what to do next. Tommy rushed up next to Wilbur, asking what was going on until his gaze landed on the baby as well. “...Wilbur?”

At this, Wilbur’s body quickly snapped to attention, taking the child from Sophie and turning, closing the door shut behind him and keeping Sophie outside. The baby’s eyes glimmered in the light of the torches, their hair a matted and muddy mess padded flat in a circular shape - a dome like shape, if you will. Slowly, he raised his hand to caress the child’s cheek, a fondness beginning to grow in his heart as their cries slowed to a stop, looking up to him in wonder. A loving smile stretched across his face as he booped their nose, sending them into a fit of laughter. Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but begin to melt at the baby’s smile. He held them close, his own body warmth beginning to warm their small freezing body.

“The storm! It’s stopping!” Pebble shouted as he looked outside, noticing the sun begin to poke through the clouds as the raindrops began to slow.

“Messiah, I believe I have witnessed a miracle today.” Wilbur called as everyone turned to look at him. “This child… this child has stopped the storm, they have stopped the storm for they are a child of the Dome itself. The Dome has spared us for helping one of its own.” Wilbur held up the baby for the congregation to see. “This baby is a miracle and a blessing, a gift of the Dome to us, a gift we must not take lightly.”

“What are we going to do with it?” Scott asked. “Can we- should we just... take them back to the Dome?”

Wilbur couldn’t help the pang of selfishness that came over him at the suggestion. “Take the child back? Slop, the great Dome does not make a mistake. It has given us great gifts and now it’s given us this baby, and you want to rid yourself of them? Shameful! We shall embrace this opportunity, this gift. We’ll make them part of our great family.” Wilbur said, going back to the podium and cradling the child close in his arms. “Since I found them, I’ll look after them.” He moved to press his forehead against the baby’s as the rest of the church looked on in interest. “I dub thee… Dirt.” Wilbur smiled as the congregation erupted in applause.

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

Tommy at first objected to adding another person in their already cramped house, but eventually, though he wouldn’t admit it, he became attached to the kid as the months passed. On a particular cold winter day, your crib was stationed by the fireplace, Wilbur out gathering food and supplies. Tommy had one mission and one mission only - to teach you your first swear.

“Come on, it’s not hard. Just say ‘fuck’. You can do it.” Tommy encouraged as you sat in your crib and looked at him, head tilted slightly in confusion. Your small hands reached out toward him.

“Twoh-towh!” You babbled with a smile, and Tommy’s heart melted at the nickname as he sighed fondly.

“Yeah, Tom-Tom.” He agreed, as you reached toward him, wanting to be let out as he carefully picked you up and held you in his arms. Your hands found their way into his hair as they pulled and played with it, squealing happily. “You really like my hair, don’t you?” He asked, amused until you pulled a bit too hard, making the teenager wince in pain, quickly bringing you back down to sit in his lap. “Okay, you played with my hair for a little while, can you say ‘fuck’ now?” You looked confused, moving to pick up a small pebble on the ground instead. “Dirt, I know you can do it, okay?” He moved you so you sat facing him again, and you huffed slightly at the loss of your pebble. “Say ‘fuck’. Like this: ‘ffff-uck’.” He said slower, as if that could possibly do anything to help. Your head tilted again, confused at why Tommy looked so disgruntled at his wasted efforts. He sighed in defeat, moving to put you back in your crib again.

Anger bubbled inside your chest - you didn’t want to be put back in the crib, you wanted to play. “F...FWOA!” You shouted, making Tommy’s eyes glimmer with hope.

“That’s closer, come on, you can do it, Dirt-!” He said, pausing and holding you in mid-air.

Beginning to put the pieces together, you realized that saying the word will keep you from being put back in the crib. Determined, your mind whirred as it looked to Tommy in curiosity. “Fwok…?”

“Almost there, you almost got it…” Tommy encouraged. “Say ‘fuck’.”

“Fffwok, Fuok… fuck!” You managed after a few tries, and Tommy’s eyes brightened with glee.

“Yes, Dirt. Fuck.”

“Fuck!” You repeated, smiling as Tommy once again smiled, bringing you back to the floor. “Fuck.”

The excitement of the exchange slowly made you grow tired as Tommy shifted, leaning against the wall as you began to drift off against his chest, a tiny fistful of his shirt in your hand. Snow began to fall outside, quickly turning into a snowstorm. Feeling tired and not wanting to disturb the sleeping being on his stomach, Tommy slowly began to drift off, leaning against the wall. Only an hour later Wilbur burst into the scene, firmly closing the door behind himself and carrying three large bundles of wood. He looked around, pulling off the scarf around his face and internally awwing at the sight - Big Brother Tommy, who would have thought? Tommy’s hands never moved from supporting you against his chest, worried about you falling over. Not wanting to disturb the siblings, he quietly shed his snow-covered gear, grabbing a blanket and pulling it up around Tommy’s sleeping form, ruffling his hair slightly and carefully talking you from Tommy’s grasp. Your Dad quickly settled you back in your crib, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

“Goodnight, you two.”

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

You slowly awoke in the warm arms of someone, outside in the snow, and your three-year-old body shivered. Where was Dad? Dad always was there, if not Tommy, so where was he? You looked up to see a hooded figure with jet black hair and blue eyes. Whoever it was, that was not Dad or Tom-Tom, and you began to cry, getting scared and wanting to see them again. Tears ran down your cheeks as the hooded teenager looked panicked. “Shh, shh… please, you’ve gotta be quiet-”

“WA-BA!” You cried, failing your body as you wailed, crying more. 

“Uh, I…” He said, not exactly knowing how to handle the situation. “It’s okay, it’s okay! I know Wilbur, I know your Dad, okay? I’m… I’m taking you right to him, just please stop crying…” He begged. Your body shivered as you sniffled, and let out a sneeze. “Dammit, I told you to stop crying…” He cursed, pulling you closer to his cloak to keep you warm. “Just hold tight, we’re almost there.”

“Wa-ba... “ You sniffed, and the teen’s face shifted into one of… guilt?

“Fucking christ Wilbur what are you doing with a kid-?!” He mumbled to himself, frustrated. “All I wanted to do was check inside and leave, but no.. of fucking course you have a kid-!” You quickly approached a large house of sorts as your captor took a deep breath in front of the door, looking down at you. “Hey, it’s okay. If it goes well, you won’t feel any pain.” He nervously smiled, before looking into your eyes as the smile quickly fell. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? It’s not exactly like I have much of a choice here. If I didn’t return with you, they’d…” He trailed off, before slightly shaking his head of thoughts, pushing the door open and stepping inside. After a few tries, he firmly pulled the door shut, carrying you closer inside and next to a small fireplace that dimly lit the room. “Guys, I’m back. I got the kid.”

Your eyes filled with fear as two figures seemingly appeared from the shadows, smiling and wide-eyed. You quickly drove your face to hide in your captor’s cloak. One with blonde hair and brown eyes reached out toward you slowly, making you retreat further into your captor’s cloaked embrace. “I can’t believe the rumors are true.” The other spoke - much shorter than the other two members, with brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, sporting a green poncho. “The famous ‘Child of the Dome’.” He turned to your cloaked captor. “Much trouble with the wall, Krinios?”

“No, that special ax you gave me worked like a charm,” Krinios replied. Your eyes were fixated on the shorter man’s, noticing how similar to Tommy he looked - they were probably the same age - but something wasn’t right with his eyes. They looked cold and inviting, the light went from where it once had brought warmth and life to the teen - different from the curious scheming brightness of Tommy’s, or how your Dad’s eyes seemed to fill with laughter and love all the time. You didn’t like any of this one bit, you wanted to be back home in Wilbur’s embrace as he’d hum a lullaby, rocking you back and forth to get you to sleep. Not in this room filled with hungry stares and eyes locked onto your body like a wolf’s.

“Come on, little one… I just want to play a game.” The blond one ushered, and you shook your head ‘no’ violently, clinging onto Krinios’s arm tightly, not daring to let go.

“What’s… what’s going on here?” The shorter one asked, gesturing to the scene. “Did they imprint on you or something?”

“Look - I dunno Tubbo,” Krinios admitted, holding up his hands in a sort of surrender. “Maybe they got sick in the cold, they were crying a lot.”

“And you didn’t stuff a sock in their mouth?” The blonde one’s eyes stared down at Krinios’s intently. “I told you we needed the little shit quiet, what if someone heard you?!”

“It’s a baby, Hycei!” Krinios snapped, and Hycei’s mouth turned into a thin line.

“Good god, you feel sympathetic for it…” The blonde groaned before snatching you up forcefully as you let out a wail, grabbing for Krinios desperately. “This is the only way to send a clear message to that freak of a cult that calls itself a church, not to mention Wilbur. We show them what happens when they decide to fuck with us. If we don’t get even now they’ll just keep thinking they can get away with doing whatever they want to us because we won’t fight back.”

“It’s an eye for an eye, Krinios - for all the times they’ve killed us, taken our stuff… they’re bullies, Krinios. Bullies that won’t stop unless we fight back, and Fort Kickass isn’t cowards. Sometimes when you’re the bad guy, Krinios, the only way to fight fire is with fire. Besides,” Tubbo asked, his lips curling in a smile as he unsheathed his knife. “You wanted to try flesh right off the bone, right?” As Tubbo came toward you, you squirmed and tried to wail before Hycei clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your sound.

“Wait… wait wait wait!” Krinios snapped to action as he thickly swallowed, getting between you and the knife. “What if the kid’s so sick, it affects the flesh? What if we get sick from it?” Tubbo’s cold eyes shifted from his friend’s to the knife in his hand. “I think we should just give it a day or two, you know… maybe this one isn’t the one to try out the new style of flesh thing. Maybe we shouldn’t change perfection, you know what I’m saying?”

“We’ve eaten rotten flesh, I think we’ll be immune to whatever they might have.” Tubbo responded, rolling his eyes. “Don’t forget that those Dome People killed you in cold blood.”

“Aren’t we doing the same thing?” He asked, as the other two’s faces filled with irritation, getting annoyed.

“We’re surviving, Krinios. If you haven’t noticed because of our ‘reputation’ on this server I haven’t eaten in days. I’m hungry.” Hycei said coldly. “Now isn’t the time to be taking the moral high road - do you want to not starve to death?!”

As Krinios hesitated, Tubbo shoved him aside as he approached. “We don’t have time for this.” He huffed, pulling your arm roughly and looking to Hycei. “Hold ‘em still.” You became hysterical, tears flowing freely down your face in panic and wanting to be as far away from that sharp object as possible. As it pressed down and began to cut you let out a shriek in agony as blood and pain overwhelmed your senses, and you bit down on Hycei’s hand, making them retract it and nearly drop you in the process.

He looked pissed. “Why you little-!” Within seconds, pain once again blossomed in your head, your vision swimming with tears. You wanted Dad, you wanted Tom-Tom, you wanted the pain to go away… Whimpering in pain, you curled in on yourself. Your prayers seemed to be quickly answered as the door burst open with two very ticked-off family members you recognized instantly. Wilbur pointed his gun directly at Tubbo’s head as the room began to build with tension, the two leaders just staring at each other. 

“Wilbur.” Tubbo said cooly, putting his bloodied knife back in its sheath.

“Tubbo.” Wilbur growled through his teeth. “Where are they? Where’s Dirt?!”

“Oh, is that what you decided to call them?” Tubbo asked, crossing his arms. “Or did your Dome God decide on it?”

“You’ve crossed the fucking line, Tubbo.” Tommy growled, his ax at the ready. “Dirt didn’t do jack shit to you.”

“Oh, I disagree.” Tubbo spat. “Being a part of your sick cult is enough for me. Even so, you can’t blame a leader trying to feed his people, can you? That’s all this is - survival of the fittest. Getting revenge on both of you, well… that’s just a bonus.”

“You’re a sick freak.” 

“You’re a scamming cultist.” Tubbo retorted, moving to take you from Hycei’s arms. “Question is, who’s worse?”

“Wa-Ba…” You sniffled as Wilbur moved closer, before Tubbo quickly pressed his knife up against your throat.

“Not another step.” Seeing this, Tubbo pointed his gun at Tubbo’s head, though the cannibal leader seemed unphased. “Kill me and I’ll kill them as soon as the bullet leaves the muzzle.”

“Bulllshit.” Tommy angrily shouted, moving forward next to Wil.

“Do you really want to take that risk?”

Wilbur breathed as his mind whirred to try to think of some kind of solution, his gun trained on Tubbo. “Tommy, get ready.”

“What’s it gonna be, Wilbur Soot?”

Quickly, he shot Tubbo in the leg, making him fall and lose his grip on you as Tommy rushed forward, snatching you up and kicking Tubbo in the face as he tried to grab you back. Hycei, on the other hand, rushed toward Wilbur, as the two fought and eventually Wilbur shot him in the arm, then quickly turned to train his gun at Krinios who held up his hands in surrender. When Tommy saw your injuries it broke his heart as he ripped off a bit of cloth and wrapped it around your arm wound temporarily, wrapping your body in warm blankets. He dried your tears as he rushed back towards Wilbur. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“You got what you wanted, just leave.” Krinios begged as Wilbur’s gun stayed trained on him. Wilbur, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him, handed the gun to Tommy as Tommy handed you off to your Dad, who carefully ran his hand through your hair, bringing you close and not planning on letting you out of his arms any time soon. 

“You scared me, oh god I thought I lost you…” Wilbur whispered. “It’s okay, it’s all okay now, I’m right here, I’m right here. Shh…” Your hands gripped his shirt and you buried your face in it, feeling comforted by his familiar scent of pine and burnt oak. Your body shook with fear as Wilbur ran his hand along your back in comfort as he turned toward the door. His gentle voice turned cold as he looked toward Tommy, his gun still trained on Krinios. Anger and sadness overwhelmed his heart as he looked upon the one who took you away from him, who tried to take you to your death. Vengeance never tasted so sweet. “Kill him.”

Krinios’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait wait let’s talk about this-!”

Tommy didn’t hesitate as Krinios’s body slumped to the floor as the two made their way back toward the entrance of Fort Kickass. Tubbo sat against the wall, breathing heavily from the pain, glaring at both of them. “This isn’t over.”

“You said you wanted to feed your people, I believe I just provided you with food.” Wilbur shot behind him as he walked toward the entrance. “As for Dirt, if you so much as lay a finger on them I won’t hesitate to take all of you out for good. I wonder who will revive you then.” His eyes glanced over the cannibal leader, making sure Tubbo knew he wasn’t bluffing. “Goodbye, Tubbo.”

#sbi rust #sbi rust server #wilbur soot #dadbur #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic wilbur soot x reader #platonic tommyinnit x reader #church of dome #the dome #the dome cult #seepeekay #minister seepeekay #sophietexas #quig #scott smajor #smajor1995 #iamty #messiah iamty #tommyinnit #fort kickass #hycei #krinios #tubbolive #villain tubbo #villain hycei #big broinnit #krinios deserved better #my writing

[katnissmellarkkk]

General #7

Hiiii! Okay, well I bet you thought I forgot about this! Or, more than likely, you forgot you even requested this back in Decemeber. But never fear, my child. I remembered and have been thinking of this fic and what to write for months. 

And so I’m so sorry, I’m a total perfectionist and I started and discared like 3 ideas for this before deciding on this oneshot sooo if this sucks, I’m at least comforted by the fact that I accomplished something in writing this itself? That sentence made zero sense but... I’m tired 🤷🏼‍♀️😅.

Prompt : General # 7 :

“Is that blood?” 

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” 

“You are literally bleeding.”

Anyways, thank you for the prompt and here we go! 

Whispers Of Light

I don't know exactly how I got roped into this. How exactly Delly Cartwright, Peeta's best friend—and alright, my friend now too—managed to convince me to help her and Leevy and about three dozen other members of the community with sorting boxes.

Sorting boxes. Organizing contents. Decorating with "found treasures".

The type of activities Prim loved doing with our mother. The type of activities I refused to do after my father died, to punish my mother for her depression.

The type of activities I now kick myself for walking out on, that I'll never be able to take back. I'll never be able to get those moments back with my sister. I'll never know what those hours between her and our mother entailed, because I chose to exclude myself, just so I could hold onto my petty anger for something that was out of all our control.

Maybe that's why I agreed to help Delly and the others with sorting through boxes upon boxes of debrief, of the items that scarcely survived Twelve's bombing almost two years ago. Maybe I only agreed out of guilt, both for never doing this type of endeavor with my sister and for being the direct cause of the bombing itself.

But whatever my reasons were, I agreed to help nonetheless, and I always follow through my promises. If there was one part of me forged in the war, if only one minor aspect of me was amplified in the smoke and haze and blood of revolution, it was the importance of keeping your promises, against all odds.

The dire consequences of a broken promise has long lasting aftereffects, beyond anything either Haymitch or I wish to dwell on.

"Katniss!" Delly calls, holding up an old, half-ripped paper book that is completely void of a front cover. "Look! I think this book is from the old Apothecary Shop!"

I squint at the dusty, decimated item, not entirely convinced. "I don't think so?" I murmur, unable to even decipher the words on the now melted, conjoined pages. "I'm pretty sure my mother kept the only apothecary book in her family?"

Kanon Bagley turns to inspect the battered item in his girlfriend's hands as well. "I don't think this is a medicinal plant book, Dells," he says sheepishly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

She gives him an incredulous look. "What do you mean medicinal?"

I peer up at him too, not comprehending his meaning any more than Delly. "What kind of plants do you think are in here?" I ask, taking the nearly destroyed object myself and flipping through the worn pages again, seeing odd herbs that neither of my parents ever mentioned or had on hand. "These don't look like the poisonous ones my father told me about?"

Kanon bites back a laugh now and I can't help feeling a little perturbed. As kind and soft-spoken as he usually is, I'm foreign to the feeling of him laughing at me. "What?" Delly snaps at him before I even can.

He still chuckles though, in spite of both our nasty glares. "You guys, it's a book of plants that'll get you high."

It takes a full minute for the meaning to dawn on me. Long enough that Leevy and a couple guys I used to go to school with come over to inspect the book as well. Long enough that they confirm Kanon's assessment just as I realize we're talking about plants that'll make you feel akin to how the morphling made me feel while confined for I killing Coin.

While everyone else snickers—and Delly full on chortles—I pass the book back to Kanon, sliding out of the crowd and moving towards a brand new box of savaged items.

It's not that the mention of plant-based drugs is a trigger for me. It's not something I ever truly gave any thought to before, to be honest. My father likely knew of them but it's not like he was about to bestow that kind of knowledge on his eleven-year-old and my mother perhaps felt it was inappropriate to mention.

No, it wasn't the subject in itself that hit a sore spot for me. But like so many times before, it's where the subject led my mind. It's where the topic took me back to.

Snow's Execution Day. The day I chose to kill President Coin instead. Being thrown back into my old tribute room. Getting high on the morphling.

Trying to forget all that I'd lost. Trying to forget my little sister becoming a human torch before my very eyes. My district engulfed in flames. The ambiguous loss of my best friend.

The connection between me and Peeta that I believed then would be permanently severed. That I believed then to be irreparable.

I suppose I believed then I was irreparable too.

And I miss Peeta suddenly, even more than I already did. Because he always knows what to say when my thoughts turn dark, when I'm suddenly triggered out of the happy, every day events and suctioned backwards to a war torn bird with her wings clipped.

But he's not here to talk me down or scare away the ghosts haunting my mind. He's not here to comfort me or even shoot me a supportive glance. No, he's at his very busy business today.

Peeta's bakery—the Mellark Bakery—has only proven to withstand the test of time these past few months. Since someone accidentally burned down the place, with nothing more than a croissant and a fancy Capitol toaster, the rebuilt bakery has been nothing but a success.

And also extremely time-consuming, I grumble internally, as I begin to pull out stuffed toys that once belonged to dead children.

"If any of those are still intact, we can donate them to the community home," Leaf John says as he opens the box across from me.

"And what exactly are we supposed to be use as decorations from these boxes?" I murmur, peering into another cardboard container, full of half-charred papers and cloths.

The general idea of today, as Delly had pitched it to me last week, was to help the community of Twelve finally sort through these boxes, donate what we could to those in need and decorate the new Justice Building with the leftover contents inside.

Somehow though I can't imagine pinning up terrible drawings of plants that'll inebriate you or headless teddy bears is going to bode well with the district.

Delly rolls her eyes in my direction—a whole new kind of response that I never thought I'd be receiving from the girl who skipped through the town square until she was fourteen years old—before nodding towards boxes on top of the ladder. "We're decorating the Justice Building with the surviving photos from those boxes, Katniss."

"Oh." Then why am I sorting these grimy, dirt-covered playthings? Why didn't anyone give me more clear instructions on today?

And why has it taken almost two years for Twelve to get a group of people together to organize the surviving items from the bombing?

I have no idea how Peeta's managed to get two bakeries built in the time it's taken for thirty-eight of us to come to the Justice Building and look through fifty cardboard boxes. And if I'm being honest, I have no idea why I'm even still here helping. I'm clearly not contributing much to the event. There's definitely more than enough volunteers without me.

And, of course, I could be at the bakery right now. Without a doubt, I'd be of more service there than I am here, digging through dusty knickknacks. I could be helping Peeta and Thom and the other part-time employees, exerting more knowledge and authority than I have here.

After all, Peeta did say the bakery was partially mine. In his mind, at least.

The ulterior motive of getting small, fleeting moments with my boyfriend, of basking in the feeling of safety with him beside me, of the occasional stolen kiss or hand squeeze when no one is looking, runs through the back of my mind.

And sways my decision immensely.

I open my mouth to tell Delly and the others that I'm about to head out, that they clearly have it covered here and I'm just in the way, when at the worst possible second, Leevy kindly murmurs, "Katniss, do you mind starting on the box on the ladder? Seeing if any of the pictures are in decent enough shape?"

I hesitate for a long moment, realizing immediately my predicament. It'd be rude to leave right after someone just essentially assigned me a task. I did agree to be here today, to help out with this tedious project. Leaving right now would only come off as rude and inconsiderate.

This is the reason I never did enjoy group assignments in school. The longer I'm here, the more I'm rediscovering this fact about myself. The division of the workload, the bore of the standing around, not knowing if you're doing the right or wrong thing, the lack of total control.

But I still nod after waiting a beat too long and agree with the nicest flare in my tone I can manage.

I'll go through the one box at the top of the ladder and then subtly make my exit afterwards. The image I unintentionally conjured up of Peeta and the bakery is still pulling at me, making me anxious to get back to him, to see him again even though we were together only three hours ago.

Since we officially became a couple a few months back—though Haymitch scoffs at that notion, claiming we've been together since Peeta first started sleeping over in my bed—I've found myself growing far more clingy to him than I ever could have anticipated. I hate when he leaves for the bakery in the mornings now, even as I still revel in the solace I find inside the woods. I look forward to his return home every night. More than even look forward to it, I'm usually at the bakery around the closing hours, helping him clean and inventory, asking him when he's coming home. Maybe looking somewhat unconsciously flirtatious as I say it.

I grab the box sitting on the ladder's top stair and pull it open, easily maintaining my balance one rung down, the same way I maintain my balance on a tree branch while hunting.

Inside pours out a plethora of photographs, mostly of Twelve's now past citizens. Near the top of the pile I see images of Greasy Sae's daughter, Dolly. The mother of her granddaughter. The daughter who died of croup a few years before the war.

Those photos must belong to Sae, I realize. Which means more of her items are probably scattered throughout the boxes here. And despite the fact that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'll tell me not of be impractical, that if she's made it two years without these things she doesn't need them now, I still make a mental note to return her lost items. If nothing else, I make a mental promise to give back to her the photos of her daughter.

I know better than anyone what kind of comfort photographs of the deceased can provide.

As if in line with my thoughts, as if I alone manifested it somehow, the next image that catches my eye is one I entirely do not anticipate.

It's a shiny photo, on the kind of glossy paper my family could never afford. In the image is a blonde man with broad shoulders and a tall build. Wrapped in his embrace stands a petite girl, with long blonde curls and mascara accentuating her already long lashes. The couple both have eyes that match the color of the sky and are dressed up in some of the nicest clothes in all of Twelve. A white dress with lace. A gray suit with a black vest. The pretty girl wears jewelry and lipstick and there's a familiar glint in the male's eyes and I find myself mesmerized.

And I can't pretend I don't see my boyfriend in both of their faces. I can't pretend Peeta isn't the spitting image of both his parents.

He has his mother's smile, I realize with startling assurance. I never saw the witch smile personally, at any point in my life so I suppose I wouldn't know where he got his charming, sweet grin from.

The mannerism looks so out of place on his mother. The kind smile Peeta has, the one that could light up a blackened sky, doesn't bode with the woman in the picture, even on her wedding day. The charming smile doesn't fit with what I know of the woman's character. With what little about her Peeta chooses to share.

But I'm even more surprised to find how much Peeta has come to resemble his father. How much Peeta has grown to favor the now deceased man.

The last time I saw the baker—the original baker, that is. Haidon Mellark—before the Quarter Quell, I resented the fact that Peeta wasn't as tall or as broad as his father. I privately believed if he'd inherited those traits, he'd be even more likely to win the games again and I could worry about him less.

Peeta was always taller than me and was always remarkably strong, after working in the bakery since childhood. But his father was a whole different level. Haidon Mellark, I'd forgotten until now, had a body that could only rival my own father's.

And as it turns out, Peeta did inherit Haidon's physicality. He just also happened to be a late bloomer. Like his mother, I imagine, staring at her tiny frame in the picture.

The change in Peeta's form occurred so gradually I barely even noticed until a couple months ago, when I woke up with my head against his heart and abruptly realized just how broad he had become. Until I couldn't even reach to kiss his jaw on my tip toe. Until he started laughing at me and had to lift me up in order to properly embrace the way I like.

"Katniss?" I hear Delly beckon, trying to bring me back to reality. Trying and failing, that is. I hear her but only in a vague, distant sense. My mind is still stuck on the image in my grasp. Still stuck on the novelty that I managed to find a remembrance for the boy who still at times questions if his memory is full of lies.

"I still cry about my family and somedays I can't even remember their faces."

I never even considered the possibility of finding a token of Peeta's departed family here. It never occurred to me, the potential finds in this box at my fingertips, that I could take home to my boyfriend. I never imagined finding him something to hold onto when the inevitable dark day came again like a storm cloud, full of thunder.

I'm so entranced what this could mean for Peeta, so lost in my own little world, that I'm barely even hanging onto the ladder. I'm definitely not as steady as I should be, standing near the top rung.

And I'm definitely not steady enough to hang on when Delly gives it a rough shake, trying to catch my attention.

/

The boxes break my fall. Sort of. Kanon and Leaf John had taken the liberty of placing the empty cardboard, already looked through and emptied, beneath the ladder.

Falling headfirst into a large, void box is better than falling plainly onto the filthy, concrete tile floor. But not ideal. Not as helpful as falling into a box of surviving clothes or toys would have been.

Delly apologized profusely for shaking the ladder. She'd even begun to cry when she noticed the blood seeping from my forehead.

Thankfully Kanon was there, as I didn't have the energy to console her much. I don't even know how I managed to cut my head at all, but it stung a fair amount and it provided me the excuse I wanted minutes prior, to escape the group project and head for the bakery.

Even after the fall, my mind still was cemented on the newfound treasure. My first instinct was still to show this memento to Peeta as soon as possible.

Kanon though, like a good friend, insisted on walking me home, despite my many protests that it was unnecessary, that I was just fine, that I could walk home blind if I had to. He insisted, foiling my intention to walk directly to the bakery and not wait for Peeta's return home, which still remained hours away.

Kanon was surprisingly stubborn when he felt strongly about something and I chose to relent, to give in and allow him to accompany me back to what used to be Victor's Village—where he now resided with Delly, inside Peeta's old home—without much fight.

Fighting for your independence and autonomy doesn't exactly present you as rational when there's a bloody gash in your forehead.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Kanon asks as we make out way up my porch.

I look up, maybe a little startled, from Mr. and Mrs. Mellark's wedding photo. "My head?"

"Yeah," he says carefully, looking at the blood like it's a mutt in an arena.

I shrug, doing my best not to indicate how dizzy I actually feel. Either from the fall or the blood still dripping out despite my attempt to plug the wound up with old cotton rags someone sorted into the trash box. "I've had worse."

He chuckles, a little sardonically. "Yeah, so have I."

I thank him for walking me home—for it was as inconvenient as it was sweet—and close the door slowly behind me, before leaning my ear against the wooden frame, waiting. Waiting for him to climb the steps down from my porch and make his way back to the Justice Building. Waiting for him to be far enough out of sight that I can sneak back out without him also trying to accompany me to the bakery.

It's not that I don't appreciate Kanon and Delly and all of my other friends' concerns. It's the fact that I wish to bestow a likely loaded item upon my boyfriend and I really don't need an audience to do it.

It's not the easiest feat, to slyly time it so Kanon won't hear me opening and shutting my front door again. And it's probably not my smartest plan, to walk alone along the rocky cobblestones and the uneven concrete, with a less than level head and body.

But I make it to the back door of the bakery still, just as I knew I would. It takes three times as long, but I make it there nonetheless.

Still clutching the photograph of his parents between my fingers too. Still with the same primary focus on my mind. To give him a token of remembrance, a token of the imperfect family he lost so tragically, that he still greatly missed, even when he can't say their names. Even when he can't conjure up their faces.

"You don't remember your family?"

"Sometimes I do... I'm not so sure other days. My memory isn't exactly top notch, if you know what I mean."

I push open the heavy-weighted back door, using all the energy my body can muster up. To my relief, Thom is already in the back room, sweeping flour off the floor.

"Hi, boss," he greets slyly as I walk in, barely glancing up at me. I shoot him an over-the-top eye roll, though I can't help smirking myself at the stupid nickname, when he beckons Peeta. "Hey, your girl is here!" He yells loudly. Too loudly to be packed with customers at the counter.

I take that to mean the daily rush has come and gone. Which would be very convenient, as it means I can present Peeta with my finding that much faster, without having to worry about his business—or our business, as he teasingly calls it—being held up.

I hear the sound of my boyfriend's quiet laughter from the front. The sound that I akin to my father's singing or my sister's squeal of delight. The last sound still alive that can make my heart do a flip.

But it dies out the second he peaks his blonde head into the back room. The moment his baby blues, the same color as both his parents', meet my silver ones and then trail upwards.

Almost as if remembering the gash in my head, I reach to my forehead, to ensure the makeshift cloth bandage is still in place.

"Katniss?" Peeta says, his eyes looking far more nervous than I anticipated. Which I can only take to mean the red liquid has seeped through the plain fabric. "Is that blood?"

I don't want him to focus too heavily on that fact though. Like I told Kanon, I've had much worse injuries in my life. Me and Peeta both have.

Just look at his prosthetic leg.

"Yes," I reply easily, before moving closer to him, pushing the glossy photograph towards him. "But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is-"

"You are literally bleeding."

I sigh, feeling slightly perturbed now. "Peeta, look," I insist, thrusting the image of his parents towards him, waiting for it to take anchor.

And it does. It takes a beat longer than I expect, but it happens nonetheless. I watch silently as the image captives him, as the shiny photograph takes him back to a time when this exact location was the only home he'd ever known and this business was run by the two people inside the picture.

He touches the photo, as if to test it's realism, before looking up at me in disbelief. "Where did you find this?"

"The Justice Building today. Inside the boxes, with all the things lost in the bombing."

There's a long pause as Peeta process this. The silence makes me antsy, finding myself abruptly uncertain of what could be going through his mind.

Finally, he whispers softly, "I never thought I'd see this picture again."

And the awed, tender smile that spreads across his face swiftly encompasses me in its warmth.

And I suddenly don't even feel the gash in my head anymore.

/

Read The Rest On AO3

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #everlark fics #fanfic #everlark fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #play with me 🥰

[thunder-at-dawn]

Old Memories

Word count: 2,474

Summary: Late in the night, the king receives an unexpected visitor, who attempts to help him remember his past.

I spent way too much time writing this goodbye

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

OH also if you tag as ship i will block you <3

Why couldn’t he remember?

It was a simple question that burned in his mind.

Why. Couldn’t. He. Remember.

Eret sighed, sitting on his throne as he reflected on past events. It was late at night, he should probably be sleeping right now. However, his mind was racing with thoughts of Foolish, the peculiar totem-shark hybrid that he had previously befriended. He was kind and comedic, but his talk of a “wither cult” in a previous conversation had swarmed Eret’s mind.

It was incredibly frustrating. He had asked other people on the server, and none of them have heard of a wither cult. Even Phil had no clue what Eret was asking him about.

Maybe there were books that had the information that the king was looking for. Maybe there was something in his castle. There was no way that this was just...erased from history. There had to be something.

With a yawn, Eret stood up from the throne and equipped a torch in his left hand, as the castle could be quite dark in some areas at night. The king wandered through the halls until he approached an area of the castle that acted as a small library.

This room had bookshelves that were lined along the walls, as well as a table with chairs in the center of the room. There were also some bookshelves that started at the walls and then expanded out into the center of the room. Everything was lit by one hanging lantern in the middle of the ceiling.

While it was a small library, there had to be something on the history of withers. Eret believed that this wouldn’t be something that would disappear without warning. He scanned through the bookshelves, looking for anything that could be useful, when something caught his eye.

“The History Of Withers: An Analysis.”

The black hardcover book sat on a bookshelf next to the table. It had a fairly large spine, and Eret knew it would be packed with research. He set the torch on a nearby wall, then reached towards the book. However, what the king didn’t expect to see behind the book’s place on the shelf was two emerald eyes greeting him.

“AH!” Eret yelled in surprise, dropping the book and covering his mouth.

A soft chuckle was heard as a familiar friend emerged from the other side of the bookshelf. “Haha, sorry about that! Did I spook ya?”

A small groan left Eret’s mouth as he checked the clock momentarily. He wasn’t exactly mad or annoyed, just shaken up. “Foolish...it’s nearly one in the morning! What are you doing here?”

“Just passing through the area!” The totem nodded. “I was wondering if you could have any spare lapis that you weren’t using? I need some for my summer home.”

“...Yeah, I should have some in a chest on the second floor in the tower left to the entrance of the castle.” The king said after a moment of thinking. “Grab as much as you need.”

“Got it! Thanks, old pal!” Foolish said before turning to leave the room.

“Old pal.”

Every time that nickname was brung up, Eret felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach.

Why. Couldn’t. He. Remember.

“...Foolish, wait.”

The other turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Can you...” Eret paused, struggling to find the right words. “Can you come back in here with me when you’re done? I wanted to talk with you about some stuff.”

“Oh, sure! No problem, buddy!” Foolish nodded with a grin before walking out the door and out of sight.

Once Foolish had left, Eret let out another long sigh, leaning down to pick up the book that he had been scared into dropping. The king mustered his strength to lift the book onto the table, as it was heavier than it looked. After taking off his crown and setting it on the table, Eret sat down, starting by looking through the table of contents.

Behavior of Withers. Wither Powers. Myths and Legends. Nothing about a wither cult. Damnit! Why was this so hard to find?

Myths and legends...maybe a cult would fall under that category? He flipped to the page where the section started, skimming through the first few paragraphs.

“I’m back!” Eret looked up to see Foolish making an entrance. The totem pulled out a chair and sat next to Eret. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Um, yeah. That, and I want you to stay here and take a break from building.” Eret nodded.

Foolish groaned, slouching in the chair. “But Eret, I want to build! I have so much energy, I could build so much right now.”

“You’ve been building almost daily ever since you got here, you need to take time to rest.” The king rolled his eyes with a smile.

“...Fine.” He sighs, playing it up and not actually upset. Well, he was a little bummed, but Eret was right, he needed to rest. His eyes averted to look at the book on the table. “What’cha looking at?”

Eret looks up as his friend, then back at the book. “Well, I wanted to do some research on what you mentioned to me a while ago. About...a wither cult.”

Foolish blinked in surprise, before leaning over and examining the book. “...Myths and Legends? No, that’s not right.” Without hesitation, he stood up and started quickly flipping through the pages. Eret let out a small gasp of surprise, but didn’t question anything. After about a minute, Foolish sat back down. The book was now open to a page with some gibberish writing as a chapter title.

“I...What?!” Eret examined the page, unsure of what information it had to offer. “Foolish? How did you-“

“Eret. I’ve been alive for years, I’ve had plenty of time to do some light reading.” The totem interrupted, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” Eret mumbled, starting to read the first paragraph. Despite the title, this section of the book was in english, and started with talk about an ancient being named Ronan. Foolish looked over his shoulder as Eret repeated the words from the book into his head.

“Anything of memory coming to you, old pal?” Foolish asked out of curiosity.

“Old pal.”

Damnit, that stab was there again.

“...No. I can’t recall any of this at all.” Eret said calmly, trying to hide his frustration. “So, apparently we fought against this...this Ronan guy and his army of cultists?”

“Yep! That’s the guy! Leader of the Wither Cult. Never liked him, still don’t like him.” Foolish nodded. “...You’re sure you don’t remember anything?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm...that sucks.” Foolish’s eyes averted to the lantern on the ceiling. “We had some epic battles. Definitely worth remembering, I’d say.”

Eret raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah! You were pretty good with a sword back in the day.” He nodded, then sighed. “I just wish you could remember it all.”

“You and me both.” The king agreed, looking back at the pages of the book.

“Back then, it was awesome. On the battlefield, we were a force to be reckoned with! With your sword and my lightning, we were unstoppable.” Foolish spoke, reminiscing about the past. “And even when we weren’t taking down a cult, we were still pals! We would practice sparing together, go on adventures, scale mountains, and...”

Eret looked up, taking notice of his friend trailing off. “...And? And what?”

Foolish paused, looking around at the castle walls. “Eret...are these walls soundproof?”

“What?” That was quite the peculiar question to ask. However, Foolish was a peculiar character, this was nothing new. “I don’t believe they are, why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Foolish shrugged, before standing up from his chair. “Alright, I need you to stand up for a second.”

Eret obeyed, standing up and pushing his chair in. “Are you...taking me somewhere?” He asked.

“Good guess, but no. I’m gonna bring up some old memories, but you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Eret?” The king nodded, and a small smirk grew on Foolish’s face. “Okay, now I need you to lift up your arms, above your head, and close your eyes.”

“I need to what?” Eret asked, intrigued, but clearly confused.

“I promise you, just trust me on this one.”

Eret hesitated, then closed his eyes while slowly moving his arms upwards. “What are you going to do, arrest me?” He asked sarcastically, letting out a chuckle.

“Hmm, no.” Foolish shrugged, stepping closer towards Eret. “Instead, I’m gonna do...THIS!”

Eret’s eyes shot right open after Foolish’s plan was put into motion. His arms shot straight down as he could feel the hallows of his armpits being scribbled upon. “W-WAIT! Fohoholihish what are you dOHOHING?!” He asked, his voice filled with small snickers and giggles.

“We used to have tickle fights all the time back in the day! Don’t you remember?” The totem asked.

“Nohoho, I dohohohon’t!” Eret said back as the other once again shrugged.

“Really? Aw man, I guess I’ll just have to help you remember!” He grinned, moving his hands down to Eret’s sides, causing him to double over laughing. Eret tried to get away by slithering out of his grasp and moving closer to the floor, but Foolish was quick to lightly tackle him onto the ground, scribbling at his sides and stomach.

“The old “sneak onto the ground” strategy, eh? Nice try, but you’ve already used that against me tons of times back in the day! Don’t think I don’t know your hidden plans!” Foolish grinned, teasing the other.

“DAHAHAMIHIT!” Eret shouted, the laughter spewing out of his mouth and filling the library. He wanted to be quiet and not risk anyone waking up, but it was just too hard with Foolish absolutely destroying him at the moment.

“Remembering anything now?”

“Mahahaybehe I could thihihink and fohohohocuhuhus wihihithohout youou TIHIHICKLIHING MEHEHEHE!” Eret’s laughter pitched upwards when Foolish started to stretch and knead at the kings hips. Who knew some tickling could reduce a powerful ruler into a squealing mess on the floor? Foolish knew, and he had been waiting for the perfect time to use this information to his advantage. He didn’t even want anything like a confession of some sorts, or something like that. He just wanted to see his friend smiling again!

“Wait, I know just what will jog your memory!” Keeping one hand on Eret’s hip, Foolish hovered the other one over the king’s ribcage. Eret, who’s laughter had died down a little bit, immediately noticed this.

“Fohoholish. Foolish.” Eret tried to sound intimidating, but the giggles escaping from his mouth made it hard take him seriously. “Foolish, no.”

“Foolish, YES.” He now hovered both hands over Eret’s ribs, anticipating him for what was next to happen.

“Foolish, I swear. Do not.” Eret repeated. “Foolish. Wait, we can talk this out. You don’t need to do this. You don’t- Foolish wait. Foolish- Foolish wAIAIAIHAIT!”

Wheezy cackling filled the air as Eret’s worst spot was targeted. Foolish skittered his fingers all over Eret’s ribs, playing them like a piano to see what spots were the worst. Anytime Foolish spot found a good spot, he would zone in on it and drill his fingers into the spot, making Eret’s laughter even louder, higher-pitched, and wheezier than before. After switching to scribbling at his stomach once again for a couple extra moments, Foolish stopped, giving his friend the time that he needed to breathe.

“You doin’ okay, old pal?” He asked with a grin, laying down next to Eret on the castle floor. “Hopefully I didn’t overdo anything.”

“No...yohohou’re fihine.” The other looked at the ceiling, still a bit giggly.

“Old pal.”

That stabbing feeling. It wasn’t there anymore.

Foolish frowned, just a bit. “So...nothing came to you during that? No memories?”

“No memories.” Eret repeated with a breathy sigh. A silence formed between them for a moment until Foolish spoke up again.

“Y’know, honestly? Who cares about old memories?”

“...What?”

“I mean, sure, we can dwell on the past. Or, we can look forward to the present and future.” Foolish continued. “Obviously, I want you to remember stuff as much as you want to, but maybe, for now, we should focus on making new memories instead of focusing on old ones. We could have our adventures again, and you hopefully won’t forget about them this time!”

“I...I suppose you’re right.” Eret nodded, sitting up after taking enough time to catch his breath. “It would be nice to know more about what happened back in the old days, but...it would also be nice to focus on what’s happening in the world now.”

“See? Exactly!” Foolish agreed, standing up and reaching a hand out to help Eret off of the floor. “We can make a ton of new memories, like how I just wrecked you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll definitely remember that, so you should watch your back.” Eret chuckled, playfully sending a jab into Foolish’s side. The totem yelped in surprise, instinctively backing away. Another silence formed between them, both registering what had just happened into their minds.

“...Oh! Well, would you look at the time! I have to get back to building, it was very lovely talking to you Eret!” Foolish sputtered out, turning around and heading towards the door.

“You shouldn’t be building this late at night! You can stay here and rest more!”

“Nope! Nope Nope Nope. I’ve already rested enough.”

“Are you sure about that?” Eret playfully raised and eyebrow and started to follow the other.

“Yes, I’m very sure. Bye Eret!” Before the king could get a chance to speak again, Foolish closed the door on him. Eret let out a small laugh under his breath, waiting for a moment until he opened the door.

“Foolish, wait, relax.” He said, watching the totem hybrid turn around as he was leaving. “In all seriousness...thank you for stopping by. It really means a lot, even if it was at one in the morning and I may have waken someone up.”

“It’s no problem, Eret. Anytime, I’m happy to help.” The other nodded. “Just call me over if you need anything in the future.”

“Of course...” Eret paused before finishing his goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, old pal.”

Foolish paused, a soft grin forming on his face. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since Eret had called him that.

“Right back at ya, buddy.” He said to the other before waving goodbye.

And with that, Eret closed the door and headed back into the library. He had no idea what time it was. What he did know was that he had more knowledge about the wither cult than he previously did earlier that night, a stronger bond with his old friend, and the knowledge that in the morning, someone might tell him about hearing strange laughter in the middle of the night.

#dawn writes #lee!eret #ler!foolish #c!eret #c!foolish #dsmp tickle #they’re old pals your honor #this took so long goodbye #👑 eret: eyeless monarchy #🦈 foolish: totem of undying

[kaeyastopmakingicepuns]

Hey, I suck at writing fics that have a plot, so here's a little Diluc x Reader prompt, for anyone who wants it.

It occurred to me that Diluc's character had been MADE for a fake!married trope, and this scene popped into my head, but I didn't know how to go further with it, so if anyone wants to continue it, or use it for inspiration, please be my guest! :)

Diluc x Reader Fake!Married AU

"There you are," you said, paying no mind to your fancy clothes as you plopped yourself down on the dusty floor to lean against the cold, stone wall of the wine cellar. You had found Diluc right where you had expected to whenever the winery held these public festivals.

Diluc, seated on the ground next to you, merely grunted in response, taking a swig from the glass bottle he held before he nestled it back into its place in the crook of his arm.

"People are looking for you, ya know," you commented idly.

Another grunt. Honestly, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth at times. It was a good thing that you had known him long enough to have learned that once you did get him talking, Mondstadt’s grumpiest bartender was actually a huge softie with a droll sense of humor that never failed to have you clutching your sides with laughter at least once or twice before he inevitably clammed up again.

“There’s a new bard in town.” You tried again. “Goes by the name ‘Dandelion.’ Wants to woo you with a special poem he wrote just for you.”

And yet another grunt punctuated by a long swig from the bottle. Time for drastic measures.

“Hey!” Diluc cried, uttering the first word you’d heard from him all evening as you snatched the bottle from his hand and helped yourself to its contents. You lowered the bottle as soon as the drink hit your tongue and spat the sip you had taken to the side.

“This is just stale grape juice,” you said in disgust. Honestly, you should have known, but the way he was nursing the drink had you convinced it was something stronger.

Diluc rolled his eyes as a plucked the bottle out of your grip. “Wait ‘til you find out what wine is,” he remarked drily.

You laughed. There was the Diluc whose company you had sought out. “Connor would cry in shame if he ever heard you say that.”

Diluc winced. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.

“Of course not,” you agreed. “No way I could break his heart like that.” You grabbed the bottle again and took a proper drink this time. Now that you were expecting the sweeter beverage, it was actually quite good. Dawn winery didn’t get its reputation for nothing, its grape juice was just as good as its wine.

“How much longer do you suppose I have?” Diluc asked with a grimace as you passed the bottle back to him.

“What, before they come bursting down here trying to marry you off to their sons or daughters? Oh, not long at all,” you teased, accepting the bottle as he passed it back to you.

Diluc groaned. “Archons, I hate this. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

You gesture in his direction, using the neck of the bottle to point at him, ignoring the way the juice sloshed around dangerously inside, threatening to spill on Diluc, who leaned away from your waving arms with a frown. “You know what you need to do?” you asked playfully. “You need to get fake married.”

Instead of laughing at your joke, Diluc’s brow scrunched up in puzzlement. “I need to get what?”

You sighed. Leave it to Diluc to not be aware of classic story clichés. “You know, disappear for a week or two, then return with some pretty thing on your arm and just tell everybody that you’ve eloped.”

Diluc scowled. “But I don’t want to get eloped.”

Archons, but he was lucky he was pretty. Diluc was generally an incredibly smart guy, but sometimes the way he failed to employ common sense baffled you. Like when he had used slime bait near his own vineyard and had to fight off a few curious slimes every few hours for a week.  Still, being (secretly) big of heart and dumb of ass was what made Diluc, well, Diluc, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

“You wouldn’t actually get eloped,” you explained slowly. “You would just pretend to. You and whatever idiot you persuaded to be your fake spouse would know, but no one else would. That way, you get to be free from all the hassle of being a bachelor, and some lucky sucker gets to, I dunno, live in the manor rent free, or something. I’m not really sure what you would offer them to make it equitable, but I’m sure you can think of something, you’re rich, after all.”

It seemed Diluc still wasn’t getting the joke as, judging from the contemplative look on his face, he was actually giving the idea some serious thought. “That... might actually work,” he said thoughtfully.

Of course he would think this was a good plan, this was the same guy who thought it would be better if the city of Mondstadt was attacked from two fronts at the same time, rather than him revealing himself as the city’s so-called ‘Dark Knight Hero.’

“There is something you do have to be very careful of, though,” you said gravely, schooling your expression into something serious.

Diluc looked at you with concern. “What?”

“You have to make sure you pick someone whom you will absolutely not fall in love with, and will not fall in love with you under any circumstances,” You said. finally passing the grape juice back to him as you realized you were still holding it. Diluc took it and set it on the floor between you. “That’s how these things always go, someone falls in love with the other one and suddenly bam!” You punched your hand into your fist for emphasis, pleased to see that Diluc had been listening to you intently enough that he started a little. “The whole scheme goes up in smoke,” you said dramatically.

Diluc rolled his eyes. “Someone I won’t fall in love with?” he repeated. “How about you?”

“Ouch!” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense. That was clearly payback for making him jump.

Something flickered behind Diluc’s eyes and you hurried to make a teasing remark, knowing that if Diluc thought he had actually hurt your feelings his social awkwardness would instantly turn him back into Mr. Tall, Dark, Silent, and Brooding.

“And you call yourself a gentleman,” you said, lightly shoving his arm.

Diluc smirked back at you, visibly relaxing as soon as he was reassured you weren’t actually insulted. “I can be a gentleman,” he said, “when the situation calls for it.”

“I’ve never seen it,” you scoffed.

“Do you want to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You did, weirdly enough. At least a little. But rather than say that you snorted and said, “Archons, no.”

“I thought as much,” Diluc said confidently. He picked up the bottle again and finished it off, before giving you a sidelong glance. “You didn’t say ‘no.’“

“I didn’t,” you admitted. But that didn’t mean you were saying yes. After all, there had to be a reason this stuff only happened in stories, right? It’s not like this kind of game could work if attempted in real life.

“How would it even work?” you asked. “I mean, this kind of thing can only stay a secret for so long. It just takes one person learning the truth, and suddenly everyone knows. And it’s not like you can just explain away the fact that we have separate bedrooms to your staff, so that right there is where it all starts to fall apart.”

“No, it’s not.,” Diluc insisted. “It’s not at all uncommon for a husband and wife to have separate rooms. Royals do it all the time.”

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re royalty now? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you took that ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ thing so seriously. And all this time I’ve been calling you by your first name. Is ‘your majesty’ too informal when we’re alone? Is it to be ‘His Esteemed Royal Highness, Diluc Ragnvindr of the Grape-Growing-Greats’ at all times?”

Diluc sighed. “Stop that, I just meant it’s not without precedent. My parents had separate rooms here when I was a kid, it’s not unthinkable.”

You blinked. You hadn’t known that. “They did?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They rarely made use of both of them, but they did. It’s expected of nobility, somewhat.”

Huh. There might be something to this plan, after all.

“And you still haven’t said ‘no,’“ Diluc said.

You hadn’t. Were you actually considering this?

“If you lived at the winery, you wouldn’t have to walk down here from Mondstadt every day,” he pointed out casually. Damn him for knowing your one weak point-- your hatred for your daily commute.

You were saved from having to answer by the torch on the wall going out with a pop, plunging the two of you into darkness. You squeaked and instinctively grabbed onto Diluc’s arm.

“Sorry,” Diluc said. “It must be a faulty torch. That’s the third time it’s gone out this week. I’ll get it.”

You felt Diluc wave his hand, and the torch flared back to life, illuminating the small corner of the cellar once again.

“Thanks,” you said, letting go of Diluc’s arm, wondering at the way Diluc’s face seemed to flare blight red in the glow of the firelight.

Suddenly, your eyes widened. “Archons, Diluc, you’re on fire again!” Was there a single pyro vision wielder in all of Teyvat that had mastered the art of not setting themselves on fire whenever they used their vision?

Diluc swore under his breath and began frantically patting his arm in an attempt to smother the flames. You helped, and, between the two of you, managed to get the small flame put out in a matter of seconds. Just another day at Dawn Winery.

Diluc stood, making sure there were no other embers lying around that could burn the whole manor down. “I should get back to the party,” he grumbled, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.

You followed him up the stairs, your earlier conversation seemingly forgotten. You were confidant that once the pressure from the party was gone the next morning, Diluc would never bring up the thought again, and you would both carry on with your lives.

But, still, neither of you had said ‘no.’

#genshin impact #gi diluc #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr

[downywrites]

if you're willing, i have a prompt i'd like to see you write maybe, if you want!

bench trio focused fic, with lee!tommy and ler!tubbo and ranboo! tommy's just feeling a mixture of bored and sad, and he keeps getting lost in his thoughts, which never turns out well. so he goes to tubbo and ranboo to hang out with them, which they're fine with. but they suggest like, doing something simple, and while tommy would usually be fine with that, it gives him too much time to think.

so he starts harassing tubbo and ranboo, trying to get them to distract him without saying that At All. and one (or both) of them gets fed up with tommy and tickles him a Little Bit to get him to stop. and tommy realizes that like... while he's being tickled, he's not Thinking! and it's always been comforting and nice and everything but he really just wants to stop thinking and lose himself to tickling.

so he keeps provoking, trying to get what he wants. but his friends keep stopping just as he starts to reach the point without thinking, and it's infuriating to tommy. so after they back off like the fifth time, tommy groans loudly, like. visibly frustrated. maybe crying a little. and tubbo and ranboo are worried, because they didn't think they went too far, but he's upset, but they thought he liked gentle tickles, but --

and tommy just forces himself to explain. poorly, because he can't say the t-word, and doesn't want to actually fully ask for it, but he's like "i don't want to think! i don't want to be thinking!!" and tubbo and ranboo are like ;-; and agree to just annihilate him. like "oh, tommy, don't worry... we'll tickle you until you forget your own name~" and decimate him. and tommy just loses himself to the tickly haze and teasing and eventually after a while he taps out, and they cuddle and he feels safe and head foggy and it's. soft.

fhsjjd that's a lot and i'm very sorry, but i am just. feeling so much. these guys make me so soft i am... yes.... fjsjjf your writing is so good thank u for my life!! ~🍄

I simplified this prompt quite a bit, haha. Bird tried their best. Hope you like it. (Bird is very tired. If this doesn’t make sense, please blame the monster energy.)

Bench trio focused fic- tommy is sad-bored and wants a distraction ft clueless!beeduo

Tick. Tock. The sound of Tommy’s clock pierced the silence of his house. The noise of the old redstone contraption chafed at his already waning sanity, making the boy growl lowly under his breath. The soft screeching of the rusty mechanical parts made him feel as if his entire body was on edge, tense like a bowstring pulled taut before a duel. He sighed in frustration, throwing his bedcovers to the side and pulling himself out of the warm bedsheets. He snatched a torch from the outside of his house and walked outside, wobbling a little on his feet from the speed at which he moved. He yawned loudly, searching for his two closest friends through his bleary eyes.

“Tubbo? Ranboo? I’m bored, come on!” He grumbled to himself, walking slowly on the wooden walkways as to not make his head swim anymore. His mind filled with traitorous thoughts again, unintentional consequences of being a big man like him. ‘They’ve probably left you. Tubbo loves Ranboo more than you. They are platonically married. You are an outsider. Outsider. Outsider. Outsider…’ He shook his head, dirty blonde locks flopping from side to side and sticking to his face a little as he did so. ‘I can’t think like this. They like me a lot, I know it! They’re probably working on the mansion-’ ‘Yeah, working on the mansion. Without you. Can’t you see it, Tommy? They’re doing it without you. You’re worthless to them. Worthless.’ “Shut up, shut up!” He clutched at his head. His fingers dug deep into his hair, scraping roughly at his scalp. “Shut the fuck up!”

He sunk to one knee, struggling to ignore the whispers and hisses of ‘liar’ and ‘traitor’ in a familiar, mocking voice. He focused on the sound of the birds chirping in the background. The birdsong sounded lyrical, beautiful. Like the sound of his discs. The discs….Did he remember what they sounded like? What did they sound like? The gap in memory made his head hurt even more. ‘I need to find out what they sound like again, I want to know. I need to get to Big T. He knows.’ He put his hands on the ground, wincing at the feeling of small splinters digging into the palms of his hands. He pushed. He felt the air on his back as he got up, shaky on his feet again.

Swears filled the air as he forced his body to move faster than he normally would on a lazy Sunday. His legs ached. Everything ached. Why did it ache again? He didn’t know. He wanted Tubbo. The feelings of melancholy boredom spread to the whole of the server. The bees buzzed quietly, lazing about on the branches of the trees. The plants swayed as if molasses had covered their leaves, dripping smoothly down onto the dirt and made patterns as the cold winds blew them around. The autumn sky, gold and rose and yellow from the rays of the sun that beamed directly overhead, seemed to be an endless canvas that Tommy could not reach, could not touch with his small, battered hands. He exhaled shakily as he ran, footsteps thudding solidly as old, weather shoes made contact with the wood. He ran through fields and flora, looking for familiar ram horns, for familiar black and white skin with the glimmer of a tarnished crown.

Time went by, and he slowed back down to a jog, searching as well as he could through the dense forests he wandered into. “Tubbo? Big T?” He called through his quiet wheezing. “Where are you guys?” The forest did not answer. The trees closed in on him. He curled up on the floor, pulling his bandana over his eyes a little. The fabric became damp. Soft grass hugged him slightly, clinging on to his damp skin as he shivered. He whimpered, curling in on himself more as a chilling wind howled by his face through the trees. “Ranboo….Tubbo..anyone?” His voice was nothing but a whisper now, barely audible through the rustling of the trees. Trembling violently, he cried softly.

“Tommy? Tommy!”

And there was light. He shot upright, gasping for breath. His hair stayed plastered to his face, mussed up and stringy from sweat. He looked through the tangle to see a familiar concerned face. “Tubbo.” “Big T, you were shaking all around! It was so scary! Are you okay?” He nodded, sighing in relief. He pushed his hair aside, sky blue eyes piercingly bright for someone who just woke up. “What happened?” Tubbo tapped his hoof on the ground nervously. He looked at the floor sheepishly, muttering a little under his breath. A moment passed. “Well, you see...we- um…” The glint of a crown caught Tommy’s eye at the doorway.

“We found you passed out in one of the dark oak forests. We weren’t sure what you were doing, but we didn’t think it was safe to leave you out there.” His breath caught. His voice squeaked a little when he spoke. “O-oh.” Much to his comfort, Ranboo said nothing, deciding to arrange some of the books on the shelf. Tommy scanned the room a little, taking in his surroundings a little more. The room looked empty, for the most parts. Things were scattered throughout the area, save for the bed underneath him, which seemed to be..seemed..to..be… “Is this your guys’s bed?!?”

Tubbo and Ranboo burst into raucous laughter. Tubbo sank to the floor, hiccuping slightly and wagging his little tail a mile a minute. Ranboo held it together a little better, hiding his chuckles behind a half-gloved hand. “Pff..yeah. Want to help me organize these books? We need some help putting them in order. And after this, we may need some help furnishing the place.” Tommy nodded. After all, he did end up intruding on them. It would be rude not to return the favor. He carefully extracted himself from the bed, slipping on his shoes haphazardly in a bid to follow him out the door. He hopped on one foot, cursing, as one of the shoes slipped off, obviously requiring some form of lace tying. Ranboo snorted quietly at the boy’s struggle, tails whisking elegantly in his wake. He stepped carefully down the stairs, avoiding the rougher parts of the unpolished stones and wood. He traced the railings with his hand, claws scraping lightly over the waxy coating. As he turned to look at the carvings and smooth wood, Tommy saw a glint of gold on his pitch-colored horn.

A feeling of slight jealousy twinged gently in his chest. He sneered internally at it, batting at it like a younger sibling. ‘Tubbo had his reasons to marry him. It’s not my business.’ His inner voice said otherwise. It whispered hauntingly into his ear. ‘But it is! Tubbo’s your best friend, is he not? Why did he marry someone else other than you? Did he really like you in the first place? Or was it the discs all-’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘No.’ Ranboo paid him no heed. He was busy, after all. So very busy, cleaning up dust carefully from the corners of the bookshelves further below him. He swiped off a speck of dust off his clothing quickly. “You coming or what?” Tommy nodded, hoping that he saw from their perspective down below. He ran down the stairs quickly, cursing a little when he missed a step or two as he went down. Ranboo watched in amusement, tails sweeping the floor as he waited. All the while, Dream’s voice hissed in his ears. ‘Worthless. Liar. He’s not worth it. Kill him.’

Thankfully for Tommy, he was used to phantoms whispering in his ears. Blatantly ignoring the annoying noise, he glared daggers at the tuxedo-covered back in front of him. ‘How do I get rid of this annoying fuck?’ Ranboo failed to notice his heated gaze. “Help us with these books, will you? Tubbo has been arguing with me about the placement for weeks now.” He kneeled down, coaxing his friend to sit down next to him in the pile of scattered books. Tommy’s mind whirled as he sorted them into differing piles. Tubbo and Ranboo’s voices faded in and out. The only voice he could hear the whole time was Dream. And Dream’s voice said things he really didn’t want to hear. He growled lowly under his breath, hoping that his inner voice would shut itself off.

Tubbo bleated in surprise at the small noise. “Big man, you okay? You haven’t been saying anything.” He poked at his side tentatively with a single finger. He yelped, bolt blue eyes widening in shock at the sudden contact. Tubbo grinned, mischief glimmering deep in his eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, pulling his fingers close to himself and forming claws with them. “Oh, Tommy~ I think we could make a little more noise together if I messed with you a wee bit..” Ranboo looked at his platonic husband, then back at the blond-haired boy. “What are we-” And there was the click of recognition. Tommy could recognize that lightbulb moment anywhere. “Oh.” His ears drooped a little, some sort of enderman thing Tommy failed to remember how to translate. He flicked his gaze towards his eyes for the smallest of moments, before looking back down sheepishly. “I-uh, sorry, Ranboo.” The words felt foreign in his mouth. His apology tasted like sawdust, like the breath of a life once forgotten.

He turned away, starting to push himself up. “I’ll see myself out.” A hand grabbed at his shoulder, dulled claws digging in slightly and revealing its owner. “You’re feeling bad.” With a crane of his neck, he saw red-green eyes boring into his soul. “We’re going to help with it, alright?” Ranboo’s voice softened with his grip, waiting for the other’s response. His eyelids fluttered shut without his volition, letting him bask in the blessed darkness for a moment. “If you can.” He was gently brought back down to the ground. He felt himself get draped over someone’s lap, someone gently carding their hands through his hair.

As they did, the strap of Dream’s mask wrapped around his throat. It tightened slowly, stealing his breath, his words. His voice grew near, rough and harsh and tasting like rocks in his mouth when he takes a tumble. He choked on air a little. “Please.” Soft, quiet voices wrapped around him. “Can we start, Toms?” A nod. What else can he say? The pain of speaking was too much. Dream’s wheeze filled his thoughts. He was sinking, sinking...the gentle tracing of a shape on his tummy snapped him back to reality. He opened his eyes blearily, giggling softly. “Hehey…”

“Yes, Toms?” And there he was. Tubbo traced the shape on his tum again, ear twitching as his laughter shifted in intensity and pitch. “Does this make it feel better? I know the voices aren’t making this any easier for you.” He scribbled his fingers over his stomach with the care of a nurse, avoiding the myriad axe scars left from battles with a tyrant he could never win against, not without the rest of the server on his side. “It’s okay, Tommy. Let it out.” He giggled freely, hands coming up to the goat hybrid’s wrists before he could stop them. The young president let them be, choosing to move to his sides and spider his fingers gently over the sensitive skin there.

Tommy bucked softly, trying his best not to dislodge his hands. The feeling helped keep him grounded, just barely. He felt like he was floating, but at least this time he wasn’t floating away. He hung there, frozen in time. The voice had stopped, but he still felt its presence. It sat patiently, waiting for him to fill the holes in his heart with his inventory of memories, tnt in hand. He tensed up, feeling even more helpless than before. Tubbo slowed down, confused. “Do you not want-” “I want- I-I need- “ He stumbled over his words like a child. Frustrated, he tried again. His tongue felt heavy, as if he had swallowed cotton. “I need rougher. Not thinking. Please.” His grip tightened on Tubbo’s wrists. He could feel his friend’s heartbeat, a solid, stable drumming like the march of a thousand men. It sang, like a burbling brook. ‘What do I want?’ His mind felt..wrong. “Please.”

Tubbo complied. “Rougher. Alright. Ranboo?” The enderman vwooped quietly. “Yes?”

“Pin his arms. We need him to be immobilized, he’s a bit of a kicker.” Tommy flushed a little at the statement, mouth opening to retort. Tubbo took the moment to dig into his sides, earning a strangled bark of laughter from his throat. “eHAHA! Tuhubbo!” The hybrid merely flicked his ear at his friend’s words. “Yeah, big man? What do you want, hmm?” Ranboo grabbed at his wrists, pinning them together with one smooth grab. His face burned quietly from the way his claws scratched at his palms unintentionally as he shifted his grip. He turned his head away from the duo, giggles bubbling up from his chest at the embarrassing position. “You ready, Tommlee?”

“Shut the fuHUHUCK UHUP! TUHUHUBBS!” Tubbo wasted no time, pinning him down to the floor with his weight and scribbling his nails over his lower ribs. “Isn’t his tickle laugh so cute, Ranni? It’s so mellow when he’s giggling, but it’s so rough when we’re wrecking his shit!” Ranboo snorted over the din, flicking one of his tails ever so slightly over one of his sides in a low-effort attempt to help his husband. “I mean, that seems pretty normal to me. Imagine having a gentle laugh when you’re being absolutely destroyed.” His deadpan voice hid the faintest trace of a smile in its depths.

Looking at the squirming boy in his hands, he put both of his arms in one hand, using the other to claw at his underarm. Much to his surprise, Tommy squealed loudly, shaking his head vigorously at the sensation. “RAHAHANBOHOO!” He bucked wildly, trying his best to escape the almost torturous feeling in his hollows. Tubbo moved from his lower ribs to his upper ribs, poking and prodding each one to find, as he called it, the ‘scream-button’. Ranboo, emboldened by the blonde’s reaction, rubbed his claws gently over his friend’s neck and ears. He swiped his tail over his exposed tummy and hips, making Tommy squeak through his laughter. “Guhuhuhuhuys- EEE! TUHUBBO, NOHAHAHA!”

Tubbo’s tail wagged happily behind him, shaggy and obviously ungroomed from his incessant cleaning duties in the household. “Found it!” He prodded a spot right beside Tommy’s second and third ribs, scratching lightly at the spot right where the rib bone met the sternum. Tommy all but shrieked in Ranboo’s grasp. The enderman folded back his ears as much as he could, grateful that endermen have the ability to muffle the screams of their own kind (and in turn, other rather loud things that go EEEE in the night).

“So, Tommy, you still hearing them voices?” The blonde shook his head. “NohoHO?!? WAHAHAIT, NAHAHA!” “Tickle tickle! Man, Tommy, you look so cute when you laugh!” His laughter echoed through the mansion, filling each corner and crevice with unbounded joy. Finally, Tommy could take it no longer. He tapped on his arm 3 times, making Tubbo and Ranboo freeze.

Ranboo released his hands as quickly as he could, apologizing when Tommy rubbed at his wrists to get rid of the slight burning sensation deep in the muscles. Sitting up slowly, the blonde panted, smile painted almost permanently on his face. His eyes, dazed but somehow still sharp enough to recognize his two best friend’s equally wide smiles, wandered over the couple’s kneeling forms. Tubbo moved closer to his side, bonking his shoulder playfully with his horns. “So, how’s the voices?”

Tommy looked back at him in blurry-eyed confusion. He tilted his head slightly, matted locks succumbing to gravity ever so slightly. “What voices?” Ranboo chuckled lowly on his other side. “That’s my man.” He slung an arm around his shoulder, purring softly. They sat there in comfortable silence. The sound of wind chimes outside and the gentle crackle of the fireplaces all over the place made the blonde’s eyes close by themselves. He sighed, a noise of contentment in a field of green and blue and yellow and red. “I hope I never wake up from this dream.” And he smiled just a little more when he heard a familiar voice answer, “Me too, Big T.”

“Me too.”

#downywrites #dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #my writing #lee!tommyinnit #ler!ranboo #ler!tubbo #sfw tickling

[pemfrost]

For the bingo what about spideydevil hogwarts AU . Good luck on your bingo!!

Thank you if you do it.

Thanks for the prompt :D

So, this is like 3 times longer than I wanted to make these bingo fics lmao. Oops 🤷‍♀️. It still could use some polishing, but I'm terrified that Peter will find another plot thread if I poke at it anymore.

Bingo fic 1/?

As much as he devoted himself to studying, Peter could not bring himself to care about Divination. The whole class reminded him of cringe inducing hacks he'd seen on t.v. growing up. Except, no one was jumping out with hidden footage to debunk it. Everything appeared hollow: randomness assigned meaning. And, while Peter didn't often procrastinate, he found it harder and harder to work on his Divination homework the more weeks that passed. 

There was one silver lining, though. Another student, one he'd held a torch for from afar, was in the class with him. That too, turned out to be hollow and meaningless until today. Despite having a class together, Peter still had no real reason to approach Matt. However, he stumbled into the opportunity in his usual Parker way: completely on accident. 

His procrastination on his Divination assignments reached a plateau, and, despite his ability to work quickly under pressure, Peter was late to class. When he'd finally made it -ten minutes late and scribbling the last lines on his essay- he'd thought the repercussion would be a lecture. Or detention. The usual stuff Hogwarts professors liked to through his way.

Instead, the professor welcomed him to class in her airy way and quietly assigned him a partner for the project she was currently guiding the class through. "Ah, Mr. Murdock, please join Peter for the remainder of class." 

By stoke of luck, Matthew Murdock had been an unlucky third wheel in another group, and made no fuss about changing seats. His usual partner was in the infirmary; the exact cause was the subject of many rumors. Peter was rather fond of the theory that Foggy was involved in a fight with the group of slytherins who often tired to bully Matt, but anyone involved was keeping their lips zipped tight. 

It wasn't a glamorous impression, but Peter was thankful for the opportunity. 

"Do you know what you're doing?" Matt crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back in the cozy chair across from Peter. He nodded to the steaming cup of tea in front of him, raising an eyebrow. 

Peter nodded, then mentally kicked himself and verbally answered, "Yeah. I read over the basics last night." 

It was a basic tea leaf reading, and the set up was quite straightforward. The professor was kind enough to provide hot water and a selection of tea leaves at each table. Though, she did note they would have a better reading with their own supplies. 

"Good. I started my tea already, so you can read mine while yours-"

"Mr. Murdock." The professor tapped the cup in front of him with her wand. "You must start over. The leaves are easier for your partner to interpret when they are brewed just for them." With a flick of her wand, his cup was replaced with an empty one and she glided off towards another set of students. 

Matt sighed and reached for the tea selection, deftly selected Earl Grey and pinched a healthy amount of leaves into his cup. Peter followed suit, choosing one at random without reading the labels.

"Don't you care for tea?" Matt's gaze was slightly to the left of where Peter sat, his face not giving away his thoughts. 

"I do, I'm just not picky." His pulse quickened. This was the most they'd spoken in years. He watched Matt's hands as he poured the hot water into their cups, tracing the calluses earned from long hours in the greenhouse. 

"Now we wait." Matt sat the pot back to the side of the table and leaned back in his chair. 

The tea would need to steep for at least three minutes. There were many things to do during that time to ensure a good reading, or so the professor said. Holding the cup and thinking about what you wanted the leaves to tell you seemed like a good option, but Peter really didn't believe in fortune telling enough to meditate over his tea. Another method was to talk to the person who was going to do your reading. And the third, and one Matt seemed keen on, was to silently wait and let what happens happen. 

In Peter's opinion, silence was something to be broken

"Uh," Peter shifted nervously as watched the steam rise from his cup, "how is Foggy? That was a hell of a match last night, shame he missed it."

"He's fine." Matt's voice was flat. "He should be discharged in time for dinner."

"That's… good to hear." Peter eyed him nervously. Matt was a year ahead of him and in a different house, meaning they had very few direct interactions. Yet, Peter knew a good amount about him. Or, rather, he knew what the Daily Prophet said and what he'd observed with his own eyes didn't always match and had drawn his own conclusions. 

Coming from a muggle family meant Peter had very little frame of reference for most things, and he could only try to compare having an Auror as a father to having one who was a cop. Matt was a third year when his father was targeted by a group of dark wizards and Matt was caught in the crossfire. 

Peter, always in search of knowledge, desperately wanted to know which curse caused Matt to lose his vision, and which spells gave him a sense of the world around him. As far as he could tell there was no braille equivalent in the Wizarding World. He didn't ask, of course. He had more sense than that, even in the pursuit of knowledge. He wanted to know Matt first, because he seemed like a cool -and handsome- guy.

Even if he was callous enough to just ask, it wasn't like he had many opportunities to do so. This was actually their first class together in Peter's six years at Hogwarts- and would be the only one since Matt would be graduating in a few months. 

Despite having no real social interactions, Peter was well aware of Matt, and would have been even if his story wasn't in the papers for months. The very first time Peter stepped foot into Hogwarts, he was so enthralled with the majesty and magic of the castle -- until he spotted Matt. It was silly, and, even though Peter couldn't name the sensation back then, that moment stuck with him. 

Peter had read everything he could prior to entering Hogwarts, dreading being behind his peers who grew up in the Wizarding World. His heart was set on Ravenclaw, drawn in by the lure of knowledge and like-minded students. That was until he locked eyes with Matt from across the hall and, for a brief moment, yearned to be adorned in red and gold. Reason won, and he was proud to be sorted into Ravenclaw. But, part of him always wondered. 

"Thank you." Matt's voice jolted him from his reminiscing. 

Peter wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve thanks, so he deflected with a joke. "Hey, I'd be thankful too if someone rescued me from the 'Dream Couple'. More like 'Most Annoying Couple'." He tapped his index finger on the table towards students Matt was originally teamed with, rolling his eyes at how closely they sat together.

A small chuckle escaped Matt and Peter's chest puffed with pride. Matt was such a serious person, he hardly ever smiled or laughed, and then it was almost exclusively with Foggy. 

"For that, too, I suppose. I meant to thank you for being the only person in this class… probably the school… who hasn't ask me… about… it."

Oh. Peter looked away, embarrassed by how many questions he truly wanted to ask while simultaneously reeling from the fact Matt apparently paid enough attention to notice. "It's not my business. Besides, there's way more things I'd like to pick your brain about."

Matt raised an eyebrow, "Like?"

Peter opened his mouth to list off a litany of botany questions, but was cut off before he managed a single syllable. The professor stared down at them, "It's been long enough, time to drink your tea, be sure to do your rotations. Read the leaves immediately, take notes on your findings before looking up their meanings. Then, give your reading to your partner. Ideally, you will know each common symbol by heart by the end of the term, but for now use your books."

They dropped the conversation, following her instructions and downing their tea. Peter was pleased with his random choice, noting hints of citrus. 

"Here," he pushed his empty cup towards Matt. As he took Matt's cup, he wondered how Matt would read his leaves, but didn't ask. 

Peter peered into Matt’s cup, trying to find patterns in the chaos of leaves. Eventually, his eyes focused on the task and he could make out what he thought were symbols. He wrote down his list and set the cup and notebook on the table. 

Across from him, Matt was focused on Peter's cup. He ran his wand over it, then his hand, then with a flick of his wand his quill automatically made a note. 

"You'll have to teach me that sometime," Peter said before he could stop himself. 

Matt paused, lips pursed.

Peter continued, "If I could direct my quill to write, it would save a lot of time when I'm trying new potion ingredient substitutes. The constant starting and stopping to note every step and change I make is such a juggle."

"That's pretty dangerous," Matt said with an amused lilt to his voice. "Though, I suppose teaching you that would make it slightly more safe."

"Yea, it would be negligent for you not to," Peter's heart raced as he teased the handsome student across from him. 

"We should probably do the readings." Matt shifted, "But we'll figure out a time that we're both free, yeah?"

Peter nodded, "Yeah."

"I'll start, if that's okay."

"Uh, yeah. Did you need to look up your symbols? 'Cuz I have no idea what some of these mean."

Matt heaved a large reference book into his lap, "I'm doing it on the fly. Let's see…" He waved his wand over the pages and ran his index finger over the text. 

Peter didn't put much stock into fortune telling, but he was curious what Matt would read in the leaves. 

"So, your leaves are interesting. There is a small ring or letter 'O' at the top, so either a love interest is close or you have something important with someone with an 'O' name." He continued on without waiting for Peter's reaction or input, "There is a spider that spans both the present and future, which could mean you have a choice to make soon which will have a huge impact on your life. But, there is a smaller thing that could be a spider, too? So maybe you have a lot of choices to make?"

Peter shrugged. The close love interest piqued his interest, though he was more curious what Matt would say about it. Maybe he would be given a beacon of hope, a sign that Matt noticed him too. 

"Ah, and this at the bottom! It's a very clear anchor, meaning a stable future." Matt tilted his head towards Peter, "You do not seem impressed with your reading."

"Nothing personal, I just don't think these things are more than carnival tricks and fun games."

"Fair enough," Matt chuckled and set his notes to the side, folded his arms on the table and leaned in. "Now mine."

Right, Peter had to figure out Matt's. He pulled out his own book and looked over the page of symbols. "Well, let's start with what I know without reading paragraphs of contradictory symbology. So, there is a ring -or 'O'- at the bottom and it's pretty big. Future relationship? Or someone with an 'O' name? And there is a smaller one of the same in the present."

He paused to look at his notes. "Uh… I think this is a ladder? Which means travel in your future. And a Knife in the future meaning a fight. Umm, I wrote down a snake, but it could be a worm? Which… is a bad omen or a secret enemy."

Peter glanced up at Matt, and was about to apologize for accidentally reading a bad future for him when the Professor approached their table. 

"Ah, let's take a look, then, shall we?" She gently plucked Peter's tea cup up from in front of Matt and swept her eyes over the leaves. "Oh, my. You have a small romantic notion towards someone that has lasted a while but hasn't grown into anything more. You have several challenges which will appear in the near future and your decision to take them on or ignore them will drastically shape your life. Those choices are why a lot of your future is fuzzy, but if you remain true to yourself there is great prosperity and even greater love waiting for you."

She looked over Matt's notes and pointed out the symbols he missed. Peter sighed, he was ready for the class to end. At least he had his study not-date with Matt to look forward to. 

"Let's have a look at the other one," She said as she lifted Matt's cup from where Peter set it. "You have a recent romantic notion, it is small and very new, but you will have a journey before it can grow. There are a lot of small victories in your future, but they can be overshadowed by betrayal. I see a powerful romance in the future, but it could be lost if you're not careful."

Matt seemed to hang on every word, but quickly folded his arms when the Professor finished her own reading. Was he taking it seriously? Peter made a note to ask later. There were some interesting parallels between their readings, giving Peter a sliver of hope of his feelings being returned despite the absurdity of fortune telling. 

"Overall, not bad for your first times. Keep studying, there will be a practical component to the final." With that, she drifted towards another group, leaving Peter and Matt to clean up. 

"You're a muggleborn, aren't you?" Matt wasn't looking at him, but Peter could feel the weight of his attention pinning him to his chair. "Foggy is too," Matt added quickly, "and has the same opinions on this," he waved his hand generally. 

"Ah, yea. It's a bit… "

"I get it. Don't worry, no judgment here. Still, the reading was a bit uncanny."

Peter huffed. "It's easy to assign meaning to a vague set of events."

"Is that so?" Matt tilted his head. 

"We're teens, so it's not uncommon to have a crush. And everyone has a journey at some point, or choices to make. That's life. And it's not unusual to get married later in your life."

"True." He calmly began to clean the table. A swish of his wand and his cup was clean. "So, you do not deny liking someone."

Well, that was unexpected. Peter sputtered, searching for a string of words to put together as his pulse raced. "I- well- that's- I-"

Matt had the audacity to laugh at him, and the sound alone was almost enough to make Peter's embarrassment worth it. Almost. "Why so embarrassed, I thought it wasn't uncommon?"

Peter busied himself with clearing his side of the table. "So, you're not denying it yourself?" He leaned into the hope the conversation sparked, imagining his feelings being returned. Tea leaves be damned, Peter made his own fate, and if he was given the chance there was no amount of future-telling that could ruin what he felt for Matt.

Their conversation dropped when the professor requested everyone's attention for a short lecture before the end of class. It was important information they would need for their test, but Peter's attention drifted to Matt. By the upward tilt of Matt’s lips, he was well aware of Peter's distraction. 

There was a flurry of activity after class, and Peter didn't have any chance to speak with him further. However, Matt was true to his word and sought Peter out over the weekend. The weather was fair, creating the perfect opportunity to study together outside and away from the prying eyes of their classmates. They found a shaded area and set up their makeshift study session under the shade of a tree.

"I think I got it." Peter waved his wand over a fresh piece of parchment, whispering the spell Matt taught him. The tree bark dug into his back, and Matt’s cologne was distracting, but he could feel the tingle of the spell working. His quill sprung to work, jotting down a few lines of potion ingredients before sputtering out and falling to the page. As it rolled to the side, he sighed and leaned his head against the tree. 

"It takes practice to keep it writing longer, but you've done more than I expected for your first lesson. You really are every bit the genius they say."

"People talk about me?" Peter was top of his class, but he didn't think his grades warranted discussion with the 7th years. 

Matt shrugged and knocked his shoulder into Peter's. "I may have asked around."

Peter's heart somersaulted. "Oh? What, uh, else did 'they' say?"

"That you're a smart ass."

Peter nodded and leaned towards Matt, "Go on."

"Peter…" Matt's breath ghosted over his cheek sending a thrill up his spine. 

"Matt…" Peter continued forward, gently pressing his lips against Matt's. For a brief moment, Matt pressed back; then suddenly there was a large distance between them. 

Peter's lips felt cold. 

"Sorry. I-"

"Don't be, I-I kissed you." Peter fumbled to put his quill and notebook into his bag. "I thought-"

"Peter." Matt's voice was soft, unsure. "It wouldn't be fair to you."

Peter stared down at his notes, trying to make sense of what Matt was saying. 

"I graduate in a few months." He held up a hand when Peter started to protest, "and I've just been accepted into a school in Germany. I leave right after graduation to get a head start with their summer law program."

"But-"

"We would have an expiration date, Peter." Matt's eyes were closed. There was a rigidness to his posture which made Peter suspect there was more he wasn't saying. 

"Ok. Then just friends."

Matt inhaled sharply, like he hadn't expected Peter's reaction. "Friends. Yea, I'd like that."

With that, they settled into a rhythm for the rest of the school year. Studying together when time allowed, ignoring the tension between them whenever they accidentally touched. Whenever the tightness in his chest returned, Peter reminded himself of their tea readings and imagined a future where they shared a happy ending.

----

Woo, thanks for reading!

There is a part two I'm working on where they reunite as professors several years later. I actually started that first then switched gears when Peter made a reference to their past. Hopefully I'll finish it soon so it's not so much of a cliffhanger lol. 

#spideydevil #peter parker #matt murdock #Hogwarts au #spiderdevil #pem writes

[earlgreytea68]

Hi! Some time ago a link to the fandom fic archives in LJ was shared, and omg, what a treasure chest it is for the new members like me! It’s very interesting to look at what people wrote about in the past, themes generally didn’t change that much, the approach did, not only because this was written pre.h. and now is now, but also because the world around us changed and a lot of things we view differently now. All of the stuff I managed to consume is amazing, it only confirmed for me, that there’s a ton of wonderfully talented people in the fandom at all times, it really warms my heart. I think someone who knows those things from the inside could describe all of this better and there’s a lot of little details, that you can compare and analyse. But one of the first things, that catches my eye, when I open a fic is the disclaimer, they were so colourful and creative at the time! It’s like genre on itself )) and in the “Pete is a genius” post you mentioned about his close involvement with the fandom, so let me tell you, the amount of variations of “Pete, if you reading this...” is endless!! It makes me smile every time ))

hahahaha I love the old school disclaimers warning Pete away! I honestly almost added one to my “Pete Wentz is a genius” post yesterday because I feel pretty sure Pete Wentz has a Tumblr lol. Look, on one of the episodes of Loud and Sad Radio Pete is shipping Rihanna and Drake, when I say Pete is fannish, I very much mean it in the shipping characters way. He’s on this podcast analyzing a Hallmark Christmas movie and there’s this part where he’s like, “What’s the deal with the guy’s manager, like, I thought *he* was in love with the guy,” and I was just like, “Yeah, Pete, because you think in Fanfiction.”

ANYWAY, I agree about how interesting it is to read the older LJ-native fics and contrast them with the newer AO3-style fics. If I ever went to school to get my Ph.D., I think my dissertation would be on the differences between the two, because I am so fascinated by them. Like, you can just *tell* when you’re reading an LJ fic, there are all these little differences to them, the pacing seems a little bit different to me, and I feel like the narration is slightly different, somehow, like an LJ fic has the narrator keep even closer to the character than even on AO3 (and AO3 generally has very close narration, especially when compared to non-fic styles of writing, it always startles me, the gap between narrator and character, when I read non-fic).

I’ve thought a lot about these differences, like, are those just the LJ fics that have survived to get passed around? Surely there is a much wider variety of LJ fic that got written, in the same way that AO3 fics cover a vast array of styles and it’s foolish of me to generalize. But nevertheless I do generalize lol. I feel like the AO3 style of tagging necessarily brought changes to both how you write and how you read a story. I feel that maybe it’s tagging, the idea of the categories you slot in, the leads to AO3 fics more often having more of a recognizable shape to them, a subgenre to slot in, whereas LJ stories will more often peter out into ambiguity.

But my favorite thing about stories of the LJ era -- my very favorite thing -- the thing that kills me every time I read an LJ-era fic -- THE DIALOGUE. REMEMBER THAT WAY OF WRITING DIALOGUE?!?!!?! Okay, this is not to say no one on AO3 can write dialogue, that is absolutely not true, there is lots of great dialogue on AO3. But there is this very specific style of dialogue that was in vogue during the heyday of LJ fic. I know this because this is when I was learning how to write dialogue, and so I recognize my quirks in there. We all kind of came of age steeped in Sorkin and Gilmore Girls when Sorkinese was briefly considered wildly new and different rather than a self-parody and I just feel like LJ dialogue pulses with this influence of what people were doing with dialogue in this period, how they were playing with it. Maybe tonight I’ll do an LJ reading binge and paste some examples of what I mean, but there was all this unconventional punctuation going on that I see less of these days. Like, it would mimic the starts and stops of speech, but not with ellipsis or dashes, with flat-out periods. Something like this:

“But that’s. Would you. Okay, look. This is what I’m saying.”

And I’m kind of obsessed with this style, there’s like this thing that gets conveyed by “Would you.” that doesn’t get conveyed by either “Would you...” or “Would you--” Those three are all very different things, and the “Would you.” resonates with me and it’s something that is ALL OVER LJ-era fic and then seemed to kind of fall out (heh) of fashion or something. Idk, there was a night I spent doing what you did and reading old LJ-era bandom fic and I was reading the dialogue and just being like OH MY GOD REMEMBER WHEN WE ALL DID THIS, THIS IS SO LJ, OMG.

The other thing I noticed specific to FOB LJ fic is that at least once a fic Pete says, “Yeah, no.” Haha I have tried to remember to carry that over into my fic, just a little private passing of the torch in my own head.

#peterick #fall out boy #fob #bandom #long post

[stopeatingwhales]

about a girl (pt.2) x kurt cobain

hi guys :) so sorry for my inactivity, but i’m here finally lmaoo, this is a part two to my kurt fic that i wrote about a month ago, due to school its been much harder for me to keep up writing as usual, but i will absolutely try my best to finish your guys’ requests soon! anyways, hope you enjoy this <3 Pairing: pre-bleach era kurt x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.167

Requested by anon (the second part was my idea, but i felt like i should still credit the anon for giving me the idea for this x) 

༉‧₊˚✧

The wind exhales short, breezy waves as you lay there, engulfed in your dreams. From the night succeeding to your outstanding performance, you were requited to a favourable hibernation which by admiring you, was needed for not only the sum of a few hours. Your solemn features are painted still, the only movement stimulating from your body is heavy breaths accompanied by a light snore from time to time. I question whether it's righteous of me to allow my eyes to adorn themselves in your serene features, yet I simply cannot stop myself. I find it surreal to witness you in such fragility; for all the pain and sorrow you’ve had to experience in your life, it’s almost like you shouldn’t be sleeping in such a tranquillic state. I wonder if you prefer sleeping than being awake, I wonder if you think it’s a chore to get out of bed. Does the world haunt you? Every click, flash, snap of a camera, does it devastate you? The image you portray to the world is magnificent, yet flawed. It’s almost as if you’re hiding something, yet you don’t care what others think of you, so you do whatever you please. My heart skips a beat every time you shift slightly, cradling your body in the duvet. I advert my stare to your arms, sculpted perfectly in God’s chamber, the lankiness of your bones withering an appearance of discrepancy. You’re not like the rest of them. Your steady breaths softly ease in and out of your flawless torso, your hair so impeccable it looks untouched even when you’re shifting around in your slumber - the hair you willingly dyed and strained with a flavoured drink mix. As I admire you, sleeping beauty, it reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life - regardless of where we stand. When you’re awake, you’re the only thing keeping me sane during the day; spending even just a day without you would feel as if I had lost my legs, lost what’s kept me steady for all these draining years. In all my time of knowing and understanding you, have you never not known what to say, for you have such a way with words, it's unfathomable. You carry a sort of intelligence that no one can seem to obtain; you speak words out of a bible and it’s ironic I say that, Mr ‘God is gay’, but it’s true. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. You’re like a hard candy, sweet and delicate, although the texture is very hard making it a burden to get through to you. I want to taste you on my tongue every morning, if you would like me to be honest. I crave for things as little as your scent even before I’ve risen from the cushion. Your grace must be envied by the heavens; there is and will never be anyone as alluring as you, not that I’m surprised. 

As my eyes continue to wander on him, a sudden stretch of his arms and a small groan echoing out of his vocal chords results in my body almost instantaneously sitting up. I watch him as he blinks his eyes a few times, his vision still not clear enough. “Good morning,” he whispers, his arms thrown to the skies; he’s like a baby, reaching out for their mother in the early hours of daylight, moaning and whining for affection, warming my heart with soreful ease. Quickly taking note of the small clock situated beside him that I was aware of for the many hours I had been trapped in thought, it read a bright and early 11am. My stare continues to linger onto him as I watch him shifting around, the heart situated in my upper chest now beating as fast as drum solos in heavy metal songs. A short silence stood in between both presences; I assume that he hadn’t taken note of my pondering state adjacent to him, though was that idea contradicted by his light greeting. “Did you sleep well?” he chirps, now using both palms to rub his what-seemed-like itchy eyes.

Now what is humorous from this scenario is that he asks this as if it means nothing; a simple conversation starter it may be, though, to me it means so much more hearing those light words roll off his tongue, compared to if someone else had said it, even if it was in the exact same moment living right now. A whiff of bad breath hits my face as I laugh lightly, shaking my head in a sort of admiration towards the man lying down ahead of me. He again blinks a few times, now in attempt to adjust the bright scenery to his view. For a couple seconds the room is frozen, Kurt’s alteration in position to sitting up becoming the only sound ringing through both our ears. As I find my gaze glued onto him once again, I subconsciously repeat the question he asked me, this time directed for him. However, from what I’ve seen, I’m certain he slept wonderfully.

A tired chuckle escaped his mouth. “I asked you first,” he mutters, the morning rasp still prominent in his vocal chords. This makes me smile. The raw, genuinity forwards the idea of realism that this moment was actually happening, coming like a pinch snapping someone out of their daydream, though my thoughts will never be known to understand how I was able to spend time with such a man. “I slept well, though.” he adds, a warm smile playing on his lips. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” I answered, my face now being cradled by my palms. 

I now feel the stare of Kurt burn onto my face. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, a hint of annoyance laced in his words. “We could’ve stayed up together,” 

A small chuckle breezes out of my nose. How considerate, how caring must you be to, even when you have performed such an exasperating gig, stay awake with me because of one night of my mind’s continuous ambles? For all I know, Kurt wouldn’t sleep for days if it meant I would be in absolute glee. It’s those sorts of traits in those who are lost which draw you towards them becoming the significant other to stay with for life. It’s that sense of attachment, connection you hold with someone, so strong that you would give up the roof over your head if it meant a smile to be drawn on their face. ”You looked so peaceful in your sleep,” I replied, staring directly into his loveable eyes, the shade of blue brightening as the sunlight melted onto his face. His hair was now a little more messier compared to how it was less than ten minutes ago, and the urge of me running my fingers through his golden locks only seemed to grow even more as time passed on. For a moment I decided to hold back my words, inhaling sharply to gain composure to my fatigued state. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” 

Kurt sighed - knowing that he needed sleep more than anything, though a hint of sadness dwindled in his stomach, his mind conflicted from the idea of me drowning in worry as I tended to do when I couldn’t sleep. Reaching his arm towards the table sat beside him, his fingers got lost in between the opened packet of cigarettes that slept reverently on the white wood, grabbing a random one at choice before placing it in a loose grip between his lips. With the known information that you need a torch to light a cigarette, I threw the one I had on his lap, a small laugh escaping my lips for no apparent reason. Actually no, there was a reason. “Who the fuck smokes first thing in the morning?”

Before he torched the lighter, he stopped, his piercing blue eyes locking in contact with mine. “Me, I do,” 

Another laugh tempted to flee itself from my throat, yet I held it back. If you would’ve said that to me the first night I met you, in that small, cramped room, littered with amps that Krist had dragged me into going in to listen to your material, I would’ve scoffed at your blown attitude towards such a random question. Watching you now as you’re admiring the cancer stick with pure attachment, my mind begins to wander over such a topic. I look at you and see a troubled, young kid who just wants love and affection because he seemingly never got enough from the people who designed his childhood; for you haven’t grown up since then. Perhaps in size and features, yes (and definitely the fact that children do not smoke), but hidden inside you is the same boy that was hidden away all those years ago - following onto your parents’ divorce. You say you’ve never been happy since then, you’ve never been able to think optimistically, and maybe you haven’t. Maybe the smile you give to me isn’t genuine; with continuous assurance I’ll consider it to be. Maybe I’ll never heal those bruises that were once your only source of living, and that’s okay, if you’re able to cope with the imprints. If you’re the Kurt Cobain that prefers smoking than having a normal breakfast, so be it; I’d give up my heart for you, and if anything, you’ve already stolen it. Words merely brush the surface of my adoration for you, and sometimes I believe that I’m just lying to myself, that nothing I’m saying in my head is true. Yet, as every minute, every second passes throughout the day, even in silent, contented situations with ceilings bright as yellow from the smoke like these, everything I say to myself simply strengthens in morality. My sweet, you deserve more than one could wish for. You deserve things that this world cannot give you, yet all you believe is that you are worthless. If only you saw yourself in my eyes, maybe then you’d realise, realise the impact you’ve sincerely doused onto me and my mind, you’ve got the moves to empower a generation and perhaps hundreds more - even if you don’t see that yet. 

“Give me one,” He hands me one, the strong gusts of cloud escaping his mouth creating a want for the rough substance to coat my throat in brutal ways; even if it’s slowly murdering me. It was a murderous addiction, nicotine, yet it kills us all, our addictions; and we are too blinded by the goodness it seemingly overshadows what we force to neglect in our minds - the bad in it all. We become so unbelievably enthralled by the pain we choose to accept it; we believe it is favourable, not disastrous and catastrophic. Drugs are frowned upon dearly, as they should be, but once you’re stuck, it takes more than simple courage to escape out of the deadly grip it chokes you in. Placing the cigarette in between my lips, identical to how he had just done, I reached my arm out to obtain the lighter that was in my clutch merely seconds ago, swiftly lighting it with one hand. As I breathed out the first tar-filled cloud from my cigar, I fixed my gaze onto him once again, sucking in my top lip as I allowed the droplets of ash fall onto my shirt. “I know I always say this,” I began as I studied his features, trying to identify any solemn, unpleasant emotions, noticing that there was none at all for the time being. “You’re going to make it big one day, I’m now for certain you’re going to take over the world,”

His eyes now locked into mine, a short chuckle leaving his throat as he blew out an even bigger gust of smoke. “I don’t want that,” 

Smiling, I took hold of my cigarette and inhaled deeply, holding it in my mouth until my body was unable to carry on without oxygen for longer - not that the air in the room was even oxygen; it was more corrosive chemicals than anything else, yet we’ve become so dependant on a small roll of tobacco to guide us to a path of slow death, its unnoticable. I watched as Kurt’s eyes drifted on to admire the elusive sunlight gleaming through the window, the whiffs of grey contrasting the happiness that was attempting to journey itself into the silent room. No matter how many times I may tell, his belief that he will never be as big as acts like the Sex Pistols will empower over anything I endevour on to phrase. It was inevitable though, whether he dreamt of it or not, that they will be big, bigger than anything they’ve ever seen. The path bridging onto it may cause destruction, heartbreak, and even more addiction, but the future is never in our hands - only until it is close enough for the present to capture it. Time is simply a mantelpiece, the light eventually burns out when there’s not enough coal to keep it going. You continue to refill it as the days go by until you simply cannot any longer, which is what all youths fear and avoid. Surprisingly enough, Kurt wasn’t one of the many crowds in devastating apprehension; he wanted to burn out more than anything else, for there were only small things keeping him going, or perhaps he was waiting for a longer, more agonizing death, hence the many packets of cigarettes vanished in a day.

There was nothing left to say in the room; there was no need for a response - it was only going to result in the same bicker as it resulted in many a time. The room, now physically undergoing a change in colour from the smoke, held a significant ambience, one so serene it left you more relaxed than the aftermath of a crazy high in drug use, though sometimes the relaxation is more pain than anything else. Even when my mind was so consumed in ideation earlier in the morning, my thoughts were louder than ever in this given moment. My mind was mulled over the concept of Kurt and stardom. He would never like it, nor does he even want it. It’s humorous to an extent; how much authenticity can one acclaim, to not even look up to the sugar-coated concept called ‘fame’? You’re not like the others. You don’t want fame, you want to create music. And in all honesty, I wish I lie through my teeth whenever I mumble those encouraging words of how you’re going to make it big; I can’t stand the idea of losing you, but like I said, it's inevitable, one day simple moments like these will just be memories to look back on when you’re old and laughing about your previous attachment to drugs. Maybe you won’t look back on times like these however, maybe you’ll remember the more vivid, buzzing moments like your first gig as Nirvana, and maybe I won’t remember this either, maybe these moments aren’t to be remembered, to be lived in instead. If only you knew how much I loved you, would you be surprised that I haven’t ruined my life because of it. You mean more to me than the stars mean to the night sky, more than a memory means to a person’s mind. It hurts my heart knowing I can’t heal you, though I dream that one day, you’ll wake up, just like you did today, turn to me and say, ‘I’m happy,’ because that’s all I ever dream of you to be.

#kurt cobain x reader #nirvana #dave grohl #krist novoselic #kurt cobain #band imagines #my writing #smut #fluff #angst #grunge #90s #music #imagines

[deepperplexity]

That’s Your Patronus?! [Pt.2]

Title: That’s your Patronus?! [Pt.2] [PART 1 HERE]

Pairing: Lucius x Female!Reader

Setting: Hogwarts, Seventh Year

A/N: Since some wanted a part two of this fic I figured I should get going with it xD So, here is part two and let me tell you, THIS WAS HARD TO WRITE… I hadn’t planned for a second part of this fic as I was leaving it open for you to decide (and I lowkey just wanted to write about the patronus O.O). But, but but but, since you guys wanted more I had to do my best to give you a continuation ofc ;) <3 

+A/N: This one is especially for @lainphotography​ , @marvelschriss  and @elizabeth-baelish​ for wanting a part 2 of this fic. I hope you will like this dearies! ^^ <3  

ABBR.: | Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name | 

Word Count: 4537

Warnings: Angst, Feels, Hurt/Comfort(kinda), Physical Injury, Bullying, Kissing

Ending Recap: When the kiss was broken and you both panted while you looked at each other he reached up and wiped away your tears. “I don’t understand,” you murmured as you worried your lip. He tilted your head with a finger under your chin. “You do not need to understand.” “But-” “Always smiling and yet when I kiss you, you cry,” he said to cut you off and you felt a smile tug at your lips. You couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry,” you apologized and he raised his brows in a harsh way. You wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Do not apologies, I feel rather special,” he admitted and you could have sworn that his cheeks were taking on a tinge of red for a moment. It made your heart flutter again and somehow you found your courage and pulled him in for another kiss with absolutely no clue as to what was happening or how it would be after you left the secret room. But if this was your moment with him, you would make the most of it...

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

He had ignored you for several weeks. Even at times when he should have usually thrown some slur or derogatory words at you he had simply ignored you. As if you did not exist, weren’t even worthy of bullying any longer. You kept on smiling, kept on studying, kept on going to class and reading in the library to keep away from as many of your bullies as possible. Had it really meant absolutely nothing to Lucius that you had kissed? Then why had he even bothered to do so at all? You didn’t know, but what you did know was that his indifference hurt worse than the angry attention he had shot your way before. 

You sighed and kept scribbling notes as you poured over book after book about charms. You did your best to ignore the ache in your chest and the rumbling of your tummy. You had missed lunch as you were hiding from the group of Gryffindors who had beaten you all those weeks ago and it was still an hour left until dinner would begin. You bit your bottom lip in concentration and kept on scribbling until you could no longer sit still. I need some air, you thought as it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. So you cleaned up the mess you had made and headed out. 

You didn’t make it far though. As you rounded a corner you stiffened. The Gryffindor boys were loitering about while joking about some poor girl they had apparently covered in slime a moment ago. You shivered and were just about to turn around when the leader of the gang spotted you. Toby Prodington was a horrible boy with sandy brown hair and a nose that had at some point been broken. He glared at you and then a wicked smile crossed his lips. You shivered again and started to walk away at a brisk pace to take another route to get out of the castle. But the gang caught up to you in no time, all four of them against little you.  

Your heart hammered as your body remembered the pain you had endured last time. “Where you going?” Prodington asked on a menacing chuckle as he grabbed your arm and spun you around, “can’t just walk away from us like that you little snake,” he snarled and you tugged to get lose from his harsh grip. “Let me be,” you said in a low voice as fear crawled through you. You didn’t want to make them angry but at the same time, it didn’t matter what you did. You were a prime target. No Slytherin friends to back you up, no Gryffindors to be brave and step in, no Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws to fetch a teacher or even walk with you through the echoing hallways. You were alone, always alone. 

The boys laughed as Prodington tugged you closer. “Nobody’s gonna save you, little snake,” he whispered in your ear as his grip around your arm tightened to the point it would leave bruises. “Please,” you pleaded, “leave me alone,” you continued but you had no time to do anything else as the boy’s knee came up and jabbed itself into your stomach with force. The air left your lungs from the impact and your knees buckled. Prodington’s hand was the one thing that kept you halfway up as you gasped for air and felt tears that stung your eyes. You couldn’t understand why you were being bullied in such a horrible way. You had never done anything to garner their hate, apart from being a Slytherin they had no reason. No reason at all to hurt and harm you. 

You coughed and tried to hold back the tears that stung and threatened to leak. “Fucking snake,” Prodington growled with hate as he let go of your arm in such a harsh manner it forced you to the ground. Your knees and hands took the brunt of the fall but that pain was nothing to what came after. Your ribs were slammed harshly with the sole of a shoe as Prodington stepped down harshly on you. “Fucking Slytherin bitch, even hated by your own peers. Disgusting,” he growled with more hate in his voice before he kicked you even harder in the stomach. You cried out as the tears gushed and you curled up in a little ball. 

“PRODINGTON!” The roar that echoed through the corridor came from Lucius and in the next moment, a flashing light came and was followed by the sound of a thudding body. “Malfoy! Fucking hell-” you heard one of the other boys shout in anger. “Want a taste?” Lucius asked with a steely voice that dripped with venom. “Let’s go,” another of the boys said hesitantly and you heard them walk away as the steps of Lucius came towards you. You curled up more as your stomach and ribs ached something terribly. 

His hand landed on your shoulder and you jolted a little bit at the touch. “Go away,” you whimpered as his avoidance from the past weeks filled your mind. The hurt and the pain came more swiftly than the warmth you felt as you remembered his hand around yours, his lips against yours. “(Y/n),” he said, “Are you alright?” There was worry in his voice and it confused you to no end. He didn’t care about you, that had been made painfully clear, so why the worry in his beautifully strong voice? “Come, we need to get you to the hospital wing,” he continued and you found yourself in his arms a moment later. 

You hissed as he carried you up the stairs towards the hospital wing. The bouncing steps made your ribs ache something fiercely. His arms tensed around you and his steps smoothed out a bit. It eased the pain but did nothing against the burning you felt where he held you. Did nothing against your pounding heart or the tears that now leaked because if his closeness that you knew you could not keep. He would drop you off in the care of the madam and then you would be mere dust on the wind for him yet again. 

He gently placed you on one of the beds, without saying a word, as the madam asked questions about your state and what had happened. As soon as his arms had left you he straightened, you looked at him through your tear-filled eyes and the blond hair shined in the light of the torches and candles about the room. As beautiful as ever, you thought as you watched him through your blurred vision. Right as you were going to thank him for helping you to the hospital wing he simply turned and left. Without another word. That ripped you open all over again. 

“Miss (y/l/n), tell me, what has happened this time?” Your eyes turned to the madam. She had that strange look across her face, the look that told you she expected yet another lie about your injuries. You had not received the help needed before, it had only made the bullying worse as you had been labelled a snitch when they started to torment you years ago. 

“I fell off a broom, landed on the stands,” you mumbled and the madam seemed resigned to not dig any further as you never changed your stories. Once you add said something you stuck to it. “Very well, I will examine you and see what the damage is. Clothes off.” You nodded but felt oddly numb. Your eyes kept wandering towards the door, the door Lucius had left through. Usually, you hated the undressing and the examining but you felt disconnected from it as there was pain much worse inside your chest. That of a broken heart. 

“Well, we will have to keep you overnight. Your rib is fractured, some internal bruising as well. You really should not be walking around in this state. Good of Mr Malfoy to help you get here.” You nodded at the madam’s words. You couldn’t really say anything to the woman and you definitely didn’t want to say anything. “I will get a houself to bring you dinner, now stay put.” You nodded again and tried to ignore the aching in your body that was slowly softening with the help of a potion. It warmed and eased the pain ever so slowly. After a moment, you drifted off to sleep. A dreamless kind that was not good or bad. 

It was dark when you woke up, disoriented at first. But then you remembered the events that had landed you in the hospital wing, again. You sighed and was just about to turn to try and grab a few more hours of rest when a noise grabbed your attention. Or, more correctly, a voice. “It’s Prodington, and a few other boys from Gryffindor.” “Well, let’s go then.” you knew both voices. The first had been that of Professor Slughorn and the second had been the madam who was in charge of the hospital wing. Prodington? What’s he up to now? 

A few minutes passed and then the doors opened again, you had been to awake to go back to sleep and how lucky was that. Several feet were heard as the madam directed what appeared to be several people to varying beds. The unmistakable sound of unconscious bodies landing in beds was heard and then the madam thanked the other people who swiftly left. “What a night,” the madam sighed out and you could picture her annoyed face with a wrinkled nose, “better get to work, sorry lot this is.” 

You laid awake, listened and waited for the woman to be done with whatever she was doing so you could take a look at what was going on and who had been added to the hospital wing. It took nearly half an hour before the door closed and you could sit up. You slipped your feet in your slippers before you left the bed and pulled away the sheet that separated your little nook from the rest of the wing. You gasped. 

Four bed were occupied by the Gryffindor boys who had tormented you, bullied you, tortured you both physically and mentally. You sneaked up to Prodington’s bed first. His face was swollen and bruised - by physical assault or a jinx you couldn’t say. He was unconscious and breathed heavily. But you were still afraid in his presence. So you took a step back and glanced towards the others, they were all in bad shape. Not as bad as Prodington but still in bad shape. Could- did- no he wouldn’t, why would he? I’m nothing to him, but… 

Your thoughts swirled as a ridiculous part of you hoped and dreamed that Lucius had avenged you, retaliated for what the boys had done to you. It was a bad thought, that you were cause for harm but at the same time, you smiled. Not the regular smile you always carried but an actual smile, a warm smile, a conscious smile. A smile that perhaps, just perhaps, were a tad vicious. Perhaps it was rightfully so. It felt good and bad to be happy about someone else’s misery and that was not you, not in the slightest but your pain was too palpable, too raw, to be ignored. Whatever the reason, it serves them right. 

“Happy?” You jolted and gasped as you spun around on the spot. Just a step in front of the closed door stood Lucius. His face was harsh yet there was a definite smile across his lips. A twinkle in his grey eyes and a small cut across one of his eyebrows. You had not heard him come in so his presence shocked you for a split second. “Did you-” He nodded slightly, casually, as if it were nothing. But to you, it was everything. 

Except, you did not understand at all. He had done nothing but ignored you since you last kissed. He had seen the torment you endured verbally from your housemates, from other students, from most really. He had done nothing. Yet now, he harmed four people for your sake? It didn’t make sense. But sense and apparently left you as your body churned with warmth from his gaze and proximity. Your heart pounded when you looked at him and your pulse rushed from the sound of his voice uttering a single word. 

“Why?” you asked as you turned fully towards him. He looked confused for a moment. But then he walked over towards you in measured steps. He placed his finger under your chin and tilted your head so he could gaze down on you. “Why? I thought that to be quite obvious?” “Not to me,” you whispered as his skin against yours made you burn and ache. Your mind scrambled as memories of the kisses you had shared weeks ago bubbled up. Your face warmed, a blush crept across your chest and throat, all the way up to your cheeks. 

His arm came around you, tugged you closer gently. His thumb stroked your bottom lip gently and your breath hitched. You tried to remember how he had treated you but the only thing your brain screamed at you were hormonal acts of indecency and your body simple reacted to his touch by melding with his hold.  “(Y/n),” he said in a low tone, “I do believe I made it quite obvious how I felt about you. Last time, did I not?” “You did, and then you changed.” 

Where you found the courage to say such a thing you could not understand, but you did. He raised his brows ever so slightly. “I did tell you, I need to make you stay away from me. I can’t stay away from you. You drive me insane, I’m going mad as you just keep on smiling through everything.” “Except when you kiss me,” you whispered. “Except when I kiss you, then you cry.” You lowered your gaze at those words, he pressed a bit harder with his arm around your waist and made you look back up. “If I remember correctly, it made me feel rather special.” “You mentioned that,” you answered as your heart hammered harder. You wanted to smash your lips against his but something held you back from doing so. 

“Why did you do this?” you asked. “Retaliate for you?” You shook your head, that was not what you had meant. “Why kiss me and make my dreams come true only to crush me, shatter me, by ignoring me. Why?” His face hardened, his cold grey eyes softened. “You would be broken in my world.” “I do believe you’re the peacock and I’m the tyrannosaurus rex. No?” You surprised yourself with yet another surge of courage despite the situation you were in and he smiled. It was a panty-ripping, heart-shattering, will-crushing smile that was pure perfection in your eyes. “True, that thing is quite astonishing.” “Your peacock is beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you, sweets.” Your heart tugged at the pet name he adorned you with as well as his thought about your appearance. 

“You’re smiling, always smiling.” his voice was harsh and condescending, but it sounded more as if it were because it was so ingrained rather than anything else. And he was right. You were smiling, like always. Always smiling. “I know the world won’t be a better place for it-” “My world is.” Your eyes widened at his words, even if you wanted your head to remind you of how he had acted and what he had done by doing nothing, you could only think about kissing him again. But before you had time to consider it, his lips were firmly pressed against yours. 

He tasted wonderfully good. The warmth of him against you was welcome in all ways. You pressed yourself into him, his arm around your waist tightened as his hand moved from your chin to cup your neck firmly. He commanded your attention and he decided how the kiss went. You were merely there for the ride, a passenger as he was the driver. You felt blissfully secure in that role. 

Your hands landed at his hips and you grabbed fists full of fabric harshly to tug him even closer. He responded by kissing you more deeply and a slight hum escaped him. Your knees were weak and tears slid down your cheeks as your love for him were so overwhelming it had to leak out of you in that salty liquid. He held you more firmly and you ignored the protest of your aching ribs. Desperate to be as close to him as possible despite it all. 

You were breathing heavily as you parted after a few moments. Slightly dizzy, slightly disoriented, but heavenly warm and happy. “Crying, again,” he muttered before his warm thumb stroked away your tears. “I can’t help it,” you whispered as your lips turned into a smile once more. “Is that so?” You nodded. “How come?” The question made you hesitate for a moment but you had not spent years pining after him to simply give up the chance of telling him. He obviously liked you too, he had said so last time and now he had retaliated against your bullies and kissed you passionately - again. 

“Lucius, I’m-, I love you.” He stiffened at your honest words and you could barely force down any air in your tight lungs. His fingers stroked gently from your eyebrow and down along your cheek to your chin before he cupped it. His lips were smashed against your in the next instant. As if he were starving and you were a buffet. You clung to him as he embraced you. “As I do you,” he whispered between breaths while his lips were still against yours, “your smile, your way to be in the world. You, just as you are.” “Be with me,” you whispered back as you were desperately clinging to the hope he would be yours and you would be his. “I will ruin you,” he whispered and his voice was laced with hatred, anger. New tears leaked from your eyes as you quelled a sob as he kept on kissing you. “I don’t care,” you whispered, “I love you, I want to be with you. No matter what.” “And how will I live with myself when you are broken and ruined, destroyed?” 

After those words, he broke the kiss. You looked into his cold grey eyes that seemed to shimmer and shine. His handsome face, framed by his beautiful hair, was in a league of its own for you. He was not comparable to anyone else. You had, time and time again, told yourself you did not know him and could not love him for only his looks. But you knew more about him than you cared to admit. Front eh way he held his fork to the distinct sound his steps made, from the way he tied his hair up to how he spoke depending on the person he addressed or spoke about. You knew his favourite food, colour, tie - all of it - simply because you cared enough to notice. What you had failed to notice was his feelings for you. You had failed to see the façade. 

“I think you are managing just fine,” you whisper as you force yourself to take a step back from him and in doing so you forced him to release his arm from around your waist. “It doesn’t seem like it is that difficult for you. Just ignore me and I am not a problem, right?” Your voice was low and the smile had faded as you felt yourself shatter all over again. “Wrong,” he stated harshly, “wrong in all ways. I’m going mad, look at what I did for you.” 

His hand swept over the Gryffindor boys that were laying in beds around you. You shivered. “That’s different,” you breathed out. “How?” “You punished others for what they did towards me, without owning up to the fact that you have hurt me more than anybody, ever.” He hissed at your words and recoiled a step. You looked at him and for once, just once, you allowed your mask to fade. 

Your smile completely vanished, your shoulders lowered, your hands relaxed and hung without purpose by your sides, you allowed your face to release the forced muscles that portrayed happiness and the entirety of you turned into the sad, lonely, hurt and pained girl that you were. Broken, shattered. 

Lucius took a deep breath as you literally transformed right then and there, in front of him, for him to see you as you were. Not who you portrayed daily. “(Y/n),” he breathed out and just as you thought he would leave you and let go of the possibility that there could be something between eh two of you his body was smashed against yours. So harshly you nearly lost your breath. He held you, firmly, with a small tremble to him that vibrated into you. “I had no idea,” he whispered in your ear with a cracked voice, “I’m so sorry, sweets. So sorry.” Your arms came around him and for a moment it felt as if you were home; like you were where you were meant to be. In his arms. 

“I didn’t know, I didn’t see, I’m so sorry,” he repeated a few times as you melded with his body and breathed him in. Something inside of you healed at that moment, as something else grew and a third thing broke. It was complicated, messy, hard. But you loved him and wanted him, desperately, to love you back. He had nearly said as much, but not completely. 

For a little while, it felt as if time stood still and all other things simply stopped existing. The hopeless feeling inside of you was drowned out by his warmth. The ache in your chest from deep within your heart lessened and then went quiet. The thoughts that screamed at you to pretend, to be happy, to smile and forced you to live as if you were in paradise went silent. It was bliss, for a moment. 

The embrace was eventually broken and both of you leaned back. You stood utterly still in the middle of the hospital wing, surrounded by boys who had been bruised and battered by your love's hand in retaliation for what they had done to you. But when the light of day still shined outside it had been nothing like that. You had been alone, lost and broken. Shattered. More by his doing than anything else. That did not just simply go away because of a few words, a kiss or an embrace. Not even for an apology. But you wanted to forgive him and be with him, if he would be with you. 

You wanted to leave it all behind and move on, with him by your side. You’d rather walk in rain by his side than in sunshine on your own. You would rather die than feel so shattered and be all broken inside. If he knew or not, he held your heart in his hands and you were prepared to never see it again. For better or for worse. If you could not give it to him, you did not want it. Even if you had tried to protect it, mend it, heal it. It belonged to him, irrevocably. For all time to come. And, really, who could live without a heart? 

His hand came to your face. You were silently crying without even realising it. You were close to just letting it all go but his gentle touch brought you back to reality, back to him. “(Y/n), sweets, please. Forgive me for it, please.” You leaned into his touch while you closed your eyes and took a shaky breath before you could look at him again. “It’s not that simple, even if I love you. There, there needs to be more than a forgive and forget. I, I think I deserve more than that, Lucius…” The words pained you to say but they were true. “You are worth everything. If you’ll have me, I’d like to give you everything.” 

Epilogue

Everything was different. Everything had changed. With Lucius by your side you were no longer alone or unsafe. You had love, friendship, safety and a place where you belonged. Right by his side. A place you planned to remain forever as Lucius made sure to make good on his word. He gave you everything he could, even if there wasn't much you wanted beside him and his love.  

It had taken quite some time for him to realise that you just wanted him, to be with him and love him. Be loved by him. That had eventually changed something within him. As if he had not known love before. True love, love beyond the surface and the physical. Your heart had ached when you realised he was unfamiliar with such emotions, such experiences. It had only made you love him more. 

It hadn’t been easy in the beginning. People talked, stared, took jabs at you and at first nothing really changed. Until realisation hit everyone, you belonged to Lucius Malfoy and he belonged to you. There was nothing more to it. You were a couple and if you were mistreated, he made sure the culprits paid a hefty price for it. You didn’t really like that but at the same time, you did not want to change him. It was who he was and a tiny, hidden, selfish part of you felt cherished when he reacted in such strong ways. When he took to violence and dark magic to protect you and keep you safe. 

After a while, nobody bothered you anymore. You were still just ‘Lucius Malfoy’s girlfriend’ but that was all you wanted to be, for now. In the future, you wanted more. If that were possible or not was left to discover. You were a muggleborn and would never be accepted by his family. You were never to be fully accepted as you were among the purebloods. Maybe, in the future, things would change but you dared not believe that. It was more of a fantasy than anything. But you understood what Lucius had meant by breaking you. Sure, the problems were different, smaller even, but they meant more than the bullying at school. It was about who you were and what you wanted to become in a future that seemed so uncertain that you feared it. 

But he loved you. He cared for you. He was with you, just because you were you. Even if he received hate and spiteful words about it. Even if some of his friends abandoned him and turned silent towards him. Even if his family berated him and threatened to disown him. He stood with you, held your hand, kissed you and loved you. He was, quite frankly, your everything and not a day went by without him showing you that you meant just as much to him. 

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[Mar:2021]

I’m still working on saving up for a new laptop since my little champ went to technology heaven a while ago. If you happen to have 2 bucks for  cup of coffee and feel like supporting my writing please consider caffeinating me on Ko-Fi! ^^ Every little bit helps and I am so, so, so darn grateful for every donation! Thank you dearies and please stay safe and healthy during these crazy times we’re living in! <3

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[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3. 

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 

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By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

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

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.  

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.  

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’  

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’  

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland