#why the mind stone is convinced everyone is dating is never explained | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jean-kayak · 3 years

Note

As a Greek mythology nerd, can I request hc’s of Dabi, Mirio, Kirishima, and Todoroki reacting to their black crush having a Gorgon quirk? She has locs that can turn into snakes, her quirk works when she glares at someone to turn em to stone but if she glares too long; she temporarily blinds herself so her snakes help with her senses, and she has slit eyes and a snake tongue that she jokingly hisses with at times. Sis is a bit self conscious of her quirk since people fear/discriminate mutant quirk types so she’s worried about being an embarrassment to her partner

A/N: Here you go anon, I hope you like it! Also, I made Todoroki's so long lmfao

🔵He doesn't even care about how you look

🔵And I mean like, your appearance literally doesn't bother him at all

🔵When you first met, it was late at night, and he scared you

🔵Your back was to him, so your first instinct was to activate your quirk, the snakes looking his way as you froze

🔵"Holy shit, that's pretty cool."

🔵"Who are you?" you ask defensively, keeping your back towards him

🔵"Someone who's not gonna hurt you."

🔵You scoff. "Yeah, right. One look at you and I can turn you to stone," you declare, your threat responded with a chuckle

🔵"No shit." You debate in your head if you should turn around, but if you run it could be worse for you

🔵But from his words and his demeanor, it doesn't really seem like his goal is to cause you harm

🔵You slowly turn around, your snakes turning back into hair, your eyes finally landing on him. "What do you want?"

🔵"For starters? Your number."

🔵And that's how your relationship started, mostly Dabi convincing you that there's nothing wrong with your quirk

🔵And there's nothing wrong with you, and that he will be the last person to ever judge anything about you

🔵His crush on you is pretty obvious considering the fact that he keeps popping out of nowhere, asking you different questions about your quirk and what you can do

🔵One day, he makes a joke wondering if you could make only his dick turn to stone

🔵And you give him a crazy look as you shake your head before you hiss at him softly

🔵"Did you just hiss at me?" You didn't even realize it, quickly recoiling into yourself, and he scoffs at you fondly, grabbing your hand loosely to turn your attention back towards him

🔵"Babe, I told you. I don't care, and it doesn't bother me. I like you, okay? And your quirk is awesome. I mean that."

☀️He was on patrol one day when he first met you, seeing you surrounded by a group of people cornering you towards the wall

☀️"What's going on over here?"

☀️Everyone freezes, all of them slowly turning around, and his eyebrows raise when he sees someone standing in the middle

☀️Your back is against the wall, your head down. "Well?"

☀️They don't say anything, and within the next few seconds they're quickly walking away

☀️The whole interaction confuses him, but he's more focused on you, turning his attention towards you

☀️"Are you okay?" he asks gently, and you nod quickly, glancing up at him for a split second

☀️"Yes, yeah, I am. Thanks," you tell him, finally looking up at him

☀️He freezes for a second when your eyes finally meet his, and he's captivated immediately

☀️You blink at him, and it jumps him out of his temporary trance, realizing he was just staring at you and wasn't saying anything

☀️And he clears his throat. "Um, do you need me to walk you anywhere?"

☀️You give him a soft smile as you shake your head, pointing towards your left. "No, it's okay. The building I need to get to is right there. Thank you though."

☀️He's nodding his head, telling you to have a good day before you echo him and walk away

☀️For about the next few days, he purposefully patrols the area where he met you, hoping he can run into you again

☀️When he does spot you miraculously one day, he's quickly making his way over to you, calling out before he reaches you to not scare you

☀️A small smile forms on your face as he gets to you. "I just wanted to check--oh." Your face drops when he suddenly stops, and he cringes internally when he realizes he said that out loud

☀️"I'm sorry, it's just your eyes...are different." They don't look the same as when he first ran into you, and they look like average eyes

☀️You instantly curl into yourself as you huff softly. "They're contacts. My eyes kinda freaking people out cause they're weird-"

☀️"Unique." He cuts you off instantly, and you meet his gaze again. "I really like your eyes. They're beautiful."

☀️You can't help but smile as you feel your face grow warm. "And I would really like to take you out on a date if that's okay."

🔴Thinks your quirk is the coolest thing in the world

🔴He always saw that you would shy away slightly, and he asked you why

🔴Your response was that most people think you're a freak, explaining that you've been called worse names that you wouldn't like to repeat

🔴He's taken aback, anger stirring slightly in his chest at the thought of people being mean to you, and he makes it his mission to never make you feel that way again

🔴He's always asking you questions about your quirk, nearly gushing about what you can do and how awesome it is

🔴To the point where he doesn't even realize that he's got a massive crush on you

🔴He realizes when he compliments for probably the hundredth time that day, and you give him a fond look, your eyes making his heart flutter in his chest

🔴He suddenly starts to get really nervous around you and becomes very cautious about what questions he asked because he doesn't want to weird you out

🔴You notice this like immediately because you're so used to him throwing questions at you

🔴When you ask him about it, he chuckles softly as he rubs the back of his neck

🔴"Can, uh," he trails off, his face going warm, feeling dumb now, but he's already started so he might as well finish. "I touch your hair?"

🔴You raise your eyebrows in surprise, and he starts talking before you can answer

🔴"I know it's weird, and I probably just made you really uncomfortable. But I just think it's cool that you can just make it come alive, and now it's really awkward--"

🔴You cut off his rambling with a chuckle as you step closer to him. "It's okay, Eijirou."

🔴You hold out one of your locs, and he carefully runs his fingers over it, and he jumps slightly when it slowly turns into a snake, coming to life in front of his eyes

🔴"God, you are so amazing," he breathes in awe not even realizing what he said

🔴"It's crazy how much I like you." Now that is what makes both of you freeze, and his eyes widen his mouth falling open slightly as he wishes a hole would come in and swallow him

🔴"You what?" you chuckle slightly, turning your head to face him, the snake turning back into your hair

🔴His face is crazy red, but then he thinks, what does he have to lose? "I really, really like you."

🔴And he's practically through the roof when you confess the same thing, and when you agree to go on a date with him

❄You were a barista at the cafe he always went to before he went to work, and he was immediately drawn to your eyes, and he always caught himself staring for just a beat too long whenever you would hand him his drink

❄One day he happens to catch you sitting at one of the tables, so he decided to take a chance and sit with you, starting up a conversation, and he had checked the time on his phone, realizing he was going to be late for work, but for whatever reason, he couldn't find himself to care

❄The only reason why he left was because you had to get to work, but he started making it a priority to get there early so that he could talk to you for as long as he could, and Sero actually calls him out on it, tired of having to cover for him, and that's when Todoroki tells him about you

❄He nearly rambles on for thirty minutes, telling him about how cute it was whenever you would accidentally hiss when you talked really fast or if you were talking about something that was exciting to you

❄They're halfway through patrol when Sero cuts off his list with a chuckle, making Todoroki look at him in confusion. "What's so funny?" he genuinely asks, and Sero raises an eyebrow at him

❄"Because you have a crush, Shouto. It's like clear as day." He stops for a second before noticing that he was basically a broken dam the moment Sero asked him why he had been late for the past couple of weeks

❄He feels his ears go hot as he asks, "Well, what should I do?"

❄"Other than the obvious answer, which is ask her out?" Sero tells him, and he throws out multiple questions, still overwhelmed by the conclusion as he thinks about all of the things that he likes about you

❄Sero laughs softly before giving him some advice to help boost his confidence, and Shouto finds himself outside of the cafe right at closed, knowing that you're the one who closes

❄"Oh, Todoroki. What're you doing here?" He rubs his hands on his pants as before he answers

❄"I was just wondering if I could walk you home? If that's okay with you?"

❄You smile softly as you nod, locking the door before walking down the sidewalk. The walk isn't as awkward as he thought, the conversation flowing between the two of you easily before he notices something

❄"If you don't mind me asking, why're you wearing a sweatshirt?" Even though the sun is starting to set, the humid air is still lingering, and you have to be hot

❄The question immediately changes your demeanor, and he stops walking at your reaction. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if--"

❄"It's my quirk," you start. "It scares people so I cover my hair to prevent that," you admit, feeling at ease with telling him

❄You start to take off the hood, and you stop his protests, telling him that it's okay. He watches as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, and he's in a trance when he watches your locs transform into snakes right in front of his eyes

❄He doesn't respond, and you start to get worried, but then he blurts out, "Can I touch them?"

❄You almost open your eyes in surprise before you chuckle softly as you raise your hand

❄You take his hand and bring it up to the snakes, and he scoffs in amazement as one of them darts its tongue across his finger

❄"This doesn't scare you?" you ask hesitantly

❄"I wanted to ask you out," he responds bluntly, and you deactivate your quirk, opening your eyes to look at him in surprise

❄"Really?" And a soft smile appears on his face as he nods

❄"Yes," he states firmly.

❄And you smile widely. "I'd love to."

#dabi headcanons #mirio togata headcanons #kirishima eijiro headcanons #todoroki shouto headcanons #dabi x black!reader #mirio togata x black reader #kirishima eijirou x black reader #todoroki shouto x black reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader

221 notes · View notes

matildashoney · 3 years

Text

love on tour

hiiii. i haven't written anything in so long, i'm not really sure if i even know how to do it anymore.

since we last talked about me not writing anymore, i moved to a new state, started graduate school, have been spending a lot of time with friends, have started going to concerts again (safely, of course), have seen harry twice! and i'll be seeing him again this weekend with a bunch of friends, turned twenty two, started a new job and i'm starting a second one next week. things in my life are absolutely hectic but since tour has started it's made me miss writing.

a lot.

so, with that being said, i think i'm going to start back up again. i have a series in my head that i think i want to roll with, and i'm going to try this out one more time. please bear with me as i try to figure out what i'm doing, again, lol.

love you all very much. enjoy violet and harry.

Harry rushes through the curtains, adrenaline pulsing through his veins and sweat dripping down his forehead, his mask sticking tightly against his face. His eyes are searching for the one person he hasn’t seen since before he was wheeled away in the metal box to go underneath the stage, the person that he knew was dancing in the corner with her friends, unnoticed by anyone else in the room. His lips are pursed together in a straight line when he can’t find her, his ears perking at the sound of her laughter rushing through the hallways as she wipes her hands on her trousers and links arms with their mutual friend to walk back to where her boyfriend would be waiting for her, as he told her he would be before he left ninety-some minutes ago.

This is Violet’s first show since officially stepping out as Harry’s girlfriend. Harry Styles and Violet James are officially dating in the public eye, after navigating nearly two years beyond their initial split, the getting back together and taking it further than it’s ever been before, it’s astonishing to see that they’ve made it this far. Jeff and Lilah have been loving this so fondly with all the press about their relationship thus far, and it’s only made the transition that much more insane.

“V,” Harry calls from the end of the hallway, reaching his hand out and grabbing towards her, smiling when she whispers something to her friend and walks towards him, laying her hand in his and letting him bring her into his chest. “Mm, you smell good.”

“That’s because you smell like sweat,” Violet laughs, pulling her mask down slightly to kiss his cheek, smirking when he brings his own mask to his chin and meets her mouth in a quick kiss. “Taste like it, too.”

“Don’t like the sweat with the ‘stache, love?” he says, kissing her temple sweetly and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t see you in the crowd. Where’d you run off to?”

“Lilah and I were in the back dancing,” she explains, leaning into his chest and hearing the rush of the crowd begin to leave the building. “Curfew” as they called it – or when they had to leave the venue – was at eleven, and they were nearing their time to get kicked out. “I didn’t want to get in the way. Get distracted very easily, H.”

“I do not.”

“Do, too,” she argues, shaking her head and stepping out of his grasp around her body, wiggling her eyebrows as she begins to hurry towards the dressing room where he would be getting changed and showered for the evening.

“Not this, again,” Harry grunts, hurrying after her and following her into the dressing room, ignoring the shouts and hollers from his friends and bandmates as he hustles after her. He knows what’s in store for him behind the shut door, and he’s been waiting for it all night. Especially since she refused to do it in front of his friends and bandmates and crew before the show.

Violet was still getting used to all this. Violet, or V as Harry calls her fondly, is still getting used to all the ‘having everyone around all the time’, ‘everyone in your business always’ thing. Violet never had to deal with that, even as a young engineer in the industry. That was one of the many perks of being behind the scenes. Her name was always in the background. Until now.

“Violet, come here. It’s just us; we’re alone. Cross my heart.”

“What are we? In primary school?” she teases, walking out of the en-suite bathroom and peeling the mask off her face, tossing it on the spare couch in the corner and walking towards her boyfriend – who was insatiably pouting – standing near the door. “You make it so easy to tease you, H.”

“I know, I know,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly for the first time all night, a real embrace, one where their hearts are pounding against their chests and their mouths are mere inches from each other. “Thank you so much for coming. Know you’re busy working on some stages and all, but it means everything to me that you’re here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here? I’m your girlfriend. It’s not like I’m crashing the whole tour with you.” Harry pulls away and quirks his eyebrows, silently saying, but you could if you wanted to. “I’m not crashing the whole tour with you. We already talked about this.” Violet made it clear to Harry that she wouldn’t be staying for the entire tour from the very beginning – she wouldn’t be that type of girlfriend, as much as she wanted to be. “I’ll be here until Tuesday and then I’ll see you for Madison Square Garden and Halloween and the last stint in LA.”

Harry chuckles quietly to himself, “Can say it, love. Harryween.”

Violet shakes her head, “I refuse to feed your ego, like that, as much as I love you. It’s a Harry Styles show on Halloween.” Harry smirks and wraps his arms tighter around her waist, holding her as tightly to his chest as physically possible, soaking in the way she brushes through his hair sweetly and hums quietly to herself to the music playing in the background of the arena. “That was amazing, as always, you know. I love seeing you on the stage. It’s where you belong, baby.”

Harry’s eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile, the genuineness of the moment making his heart well with love and affection for the person he’s lucky enough to have a second chance with. Convincing her to go out with him again wasn’t easy, she isn’t very persuadable when it comes to things that she’s already made up her mind about. Harry considers himself lucky that she wasn’t so set in stone when it came to things with him.

Harry always thought of himself as very lucky, especially considering how things turned out with his career and his dream but having her with him, here, halfway across the country when she’s working with their label on about four other stages, at the minute, and not being the one that got away, made him feel especially so. “Thank you for being here.”

“Happy to be here,” she smiles, kissing his cheek and squeaking with a giggle when he lifts her onto his waist and walks her into the bathroom with him, settling her on the counter before stripping and stepping into the shower. “I could’ve waited outside, you know. Until you were, you know, at least a little bit decent.”

“Not anything you haven’t seen before, baby.”

“Is it anything I prefer to see?” she says, squinting her eyes playfully, as though she is trying to see through the steam beginning to surround the bathroom.

Harry smirks and pokes his head out of the shower, “Come in here and find out.”

“You know the rules, H.”

“They’re stupid rules, V,” he mumbles beneath his breath, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. His showers never last very long in the arenas, a quick in and out to rinse off the sweat from the stage and feel semi-clean; nothing like the showers he takes when he gets to the hotels, where he can take his time and really feel refreshed.

“They’re not stupid!”

��They’re a little stupid, my love.”

“Don’t add the ‘my love’ in there to break the insult!” she says, handing a towel towards him as he steps out of the shower and shakes his hair against her legs, dampening her thighs with a hearty laugh. He’s always a child at heart, but especially around Violet. “That’s rude, Harry.”

“I think you’re just making excuses, Violet.” Harry wraps the towel around his waist and walks to the counter, spreading her legs just enough to slide his body in between her thighs. “I’m happy I’ll be seeing you in two weeks. I don’t like being away from you for that long.”

“I know you don’t. You’re a little clingy, my love.”

“Don’t add the ‘my love’ in there to break the insult,” he mimics, shaking his head and laughing quietly. Harry knows he’s clingy; it’s just who he is. He’s always been this way, especially since they’ve barely spent any time together since getting back together at the wedding nearly two months ago. Violet and Harry decided to try again and then Harry was leaving for tour literally two weeks later. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

“Unfortunately, I’m sure,” she says regretfully, giving him his shirt and watching as the muscles on his back tense beneath his movements – she’ll take advantage of feeling them later – as he dresses himself. “I’m definitely going to miss you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry smirks, his sweatpants settling on his hips and his shirt hanging loosely from his torso. “I think I know why you’ll miss me, but we can pretend it’s ‘cause of other reasons.”

“You’re deranged,” Violet says, jumping off the counter and wrapping her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. “Absolutely deranged.”

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles smut

123 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 3 years

Text

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 02

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: After almost three months of no writing...I finished this chapter :) I hope you enjoy...please leave me feedback in the form of comments or an ask. The long break has made me worry about a bit about whether people will even read my stuff anymore lol

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

The next two months pass by with only a few growing pains in terms of teaching. You’d discovered pretty quickly that a group of twenty students could easily turn into pure and utter chaos. Particularly when one of them accidentally turns another into a turnip.

That had not been the best first-week experience if you were being honest.

There had been a few minutes when you’d been convinced

But you were certainly getting used to everything. It was odd being on the other side now, being the one who commanded attention from the students. You had an almost desperate need to be liked by them at first, but the other professors had quickly dissuaded you from that. They were not your friends, and you’d learnt that if you gave them an inch then they’d take a mile.

It had been pleasant though, and you were certainly enjoying everything. There was nothing better than the smile on a student’s face when they got a spell right, with the knowledge that you’d been the one to teach them that.

The comments you’d been told on your first note about the house stereotypes had also proven to be true. You’d never seen so many Slytherin’s chatting happily with Gryffindor’s and so forth. Whole friendship groups were made up of varying houses and none appeared to be left out. Nor had you seen any house related bullying as there had been in your day.

Once typical insults of a Slytherin being home to a Death Eater had vanished for the most part. The one time you had seen it, hurled by a Hufflepuff of all things, had resulted in complete outrage amongst all the students. It had warmed your heart to see the younger generations working in far better harmony than yours or your previous generations ever had.

Chaeyoung had become the equivalent of your work best friend, bringing her marking over to your office and spending time chatting happily with you. Seokjin had also become a close friend or at least as close as someone could get in only two months. The two of them were fascinating, coming from vastly different lifestyles.

Her family were practically magical royalty in France, though she’d moved to the UK whilst only a child to live with her grandparents after the deaths of her parents. As such, she’d ended up attending Hogwarts and had been in the year below Hoseok. Despite her initial French upbringing, she had no hint of an accent though she’d spouted fluent French to you when you’d queried her language abilities.

She also spoke Spanish, which had led to her initially getting a job as a translator at a magical exporting company. It had amused you thoroughly that it had been based in Devon, along the southern coast of England with France just over the narrow Channel Sea. Chaeyoung had laughed at the time, acknowledging that the mild weather was much nicer than the temperamental mistress you had to contend with here in northern Scotland.

It hadn’t proven to her liking though, and she’d soon ended up applying for the vacant History of Magic position. She’d been quick to explain that she’d taken up an extra qualification in her chosen area and that she wasn’t just randomly picked. You knew from Jisoo that muggles had a different way to education, but there were no real universities here in the wizarding world.

Chaeyoung studied hard enough and was very knowledgeable about her chosen area, so you didn’t see too much issue regarding it. And she was a popular teacher, helping to turn a subject that many would often find dull into something fun and interesting.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was older than you. He was 36, with a wife of ten years and two young sons. He’d trained in astronomy in the Ministry and had brought his skills to Hogwarts three years ago. You’d ended up bonding together over your dual experiences in the Ministry; both lamenting over the different departments and positions you’d had yet the same bureaucratic headaches.

He was a joyful sort with a smile always on his face for you and his students along with a genuine passion for the stars and the universe. You knew that he made it a goal to read much of what the muggles were doing, his fascination with the fact that they’d been to space bordering on an almost obsession.

It was no surprise to you that these have been the two that you had ended up so close with. Both had the experience of working outside of Hogwarts and that seemed to make you all different from the other professors. Everyone else had interned here immediately after finishing before taking on their chosen role.

Jimin came from a long line of auror wizards and witches that stretched back centuries. This meant that he had extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts inherited from their wise teachings. His mother and father still worked in the Ministry, which meant that he’d slipped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts position with ease.

Which was a good thing as it had remained an awkward position after the Second Wizarding War. It was a role that was often hard to fill as some many witches and wizards felt that it would be best to ignore that the Dark Arts even existed. If no one knew about the Dark Arts, and all the horrific violence and devastation that had occurred with them, then there wouldn’t be any need to defend it.

That was, of course, a most ridiculous idea and Hogwarts had firmly resisted any such attempts to whitewash both the history and the concept of the Dark Arts. By not acknowledging what happened, and teaching to both understand why it happened alongside how to protect against it, then it would just happen again.

But it remained an exceptionally unpopular position due to the intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts required. To know how best to protect against the Dark spells, you had to know what the Dark spells were.

You had experienced at least three professors during your tenure as a student.

That had all changed five years ago though when Park Jimin had finally taken over when his predecessor had packed it all in to go and study the famous dragons in Romania. The handsome silver-haired professor was young, but he had won over the staff of the prestigious school with his astonishingly good spellwork.

The fact that he had also made short work of their hearts was because he was also incredibly good looking, much to his benefit when it came to dating you were sure.

Jimin wasn’t just a pretty face though; he was the best dueller in the school. From what you’d been told, he had yet to be bested. Which honestly, was to be expected from someone with such a prestigious bloodline as his.

But not only that, he’d proven to be sweet and kind to his students with a backbone of steel as well. While there may be no true bad blood between houses now, Slytherin still garnered an air of suspicion from other houses even to this day.

Given the preponderance of dark witches and wizards that the house had produced over the years, it was a well-earnt suspicion, unfortunately. Still, you didn’t believe that the bad decisions and choices made by people long ago should have any bearing on your current students; all of them born long after those terrible events.

Jimin had proven to be an excellent example of why you should never stereotype people based on what others had done. In your opinion, he was an exceptional teacher and had taken on the helm of the Defence Against the Dark Arts role with the clear mindset of not only helping to protect his students but also to try and prevent them from making poor choices.

It was a tough subject to teach as it meant constantly walking a narrow line while also steering students true through narrow and murky waters. There were plenty of students who might find themselves a little too fascinated in the concept of the Dark Arts, after all.

According to Chaeyoung, Jimin tried to combat this by making sure to teach them about the history of the Dark Arts. From what you understood, he held no punches in making sure they all knew the horrific acts of murder and sacrifice that had been committed to preventing students from romanticising a dark part of wizarding history.

Not only that, but he made sure to teach about the most infamous dark wizards in history; the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all to ensure that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. He took his role seriously, whether it was through spellwork or simply enriching the minds.

Despite his relative youth, you’d come to know him as passionate and hard-working with a true love for his students. Whether they be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. It was just one of the many things that you had come to grow to love about Hogwarts in your short time here so far, the way the school had adapted and grown so quickly.

Hogwarts was a castle that had been built from stone carved centuries ago and housed ancient treasures of the wizarding world, but the Battle of Hogwarts had been a turning point for many. No longer did it constantly look at the past with pure pride, and to many - ignorance, but instead looked to the future as well.

It sought to teach well-rounded wizards and witches that would enrich the community. Which meant it had attempted to modernise itself as much as it could. Of course, it didn’t match the sparkling modernity of steel and technology that the muggle world had developed over the last two centuries but it was improving itself and working to develop new magics that would mirror some of the advancements that the muggles had made.

Perhaps the only thing you’d found a little awkward to embrace was teaching itself. You’d been eager to begin but had quickly realised that teaching was much more complicated than you’d imagined. For all of the good things that Hogwarts was doing lately, it seemed odd to you that they didn’t even bother teaching their professors to teach.

A few discussions with some of the others had revealed that they also had this issue when they’d started. It seemed to have been easier for those who hadn’t spent too much time away from the school after they’d graduated but it had been a long time since you’d been schooled here. Teaching methods had changed and you’d struggled to maintain a healthy balance of actually teaching, answering questions to help students, having open hours to encourage students who were struggling to have extra tuition and finding time to mark the essays that you handed out.

In short, it had been a very steep learning curve for yourself. Thankfully, your students had given you the benefit of the doubt, which meant they’d been very accepting of any mistakes you’d made. You’d also worked with the other professors to establish a good teaching plan for each of your lessons while also cross-referencing to ensure students weren’t loaded with too much homework.

It was more work than you’d expected, which made you understand how naive you’d been. But you found it to be satisfying work and the reward of seeing students learn and retain their knowledge throughout their lessons was better than anything you’d done in your previous job. And that was to say nothing about the pure wonder and joy on the faces of the first-year students when you had begun their education.

Underlying all of your experiences so far though was one Jung Hoseok. Whilst you’d become quick friends with Seokjin and Chaeyoung, Hoseok was a strange enigma to you. He was friendly and always willing to help you whenever you got confused over something or were feeling a little stressed.

His job as the Care of Magical Creatures professor meant that you rarely saw him during school hours. A large portion of his time was spent outside in the Forbidden Forest or in the custom-built buildings that housed many of the fantastical creatures that he cared for. You knew that he did have a classroom though. It wasn’t anywhere near yours but it held a lot of the smaller creatures that didn’t do so well in the Scottish climate.

Hoseok’s commitment to his job was commendable as he often spent a lot of hours outside. Which meant that as the months slowly shifted to winter, he was finding himself in the cold and rain a lot more often than not.

More than once, you’d spotted him outside when peeking through one of your classroom windows and noted him completely drenched as the rain poured down. It made you cringe each time you saw it, knowing that his robes would be heavy with water. But he never complained about it, even though he was the only professor who also had to work on the weekends.

On top of that, he was also busy with being the Head of Hufflepuff. From what you understood from your talks with Jimin, it meant always being available outside of learning hours for his House students. Whether they wanted to talk about a problem they had or simply needed advice, he was there to help them with whatever they needed.

It also meant that he had to attend every Quidditch game, and you wondered how he managed to cope with such a full schedule. You felt exhausted after a week of just your normal work but knowing how much extra he put in was mind-blowing.

Despite this though, you’d noticed over time that Hoseok always made sure to be present for every meal in the Great Hall. And much like the first meal you’d shared at the top table, he always sat next to you. You hadn’t thought anything of it until Seokjin had casually mentioned one day while you’d been at Hogsmeade with him and Chaeyoung that he’d never sat in that place before.

His old spot was actually on the other side of the table, next to Taehyung and Jimin. Seokjin hadn’t even thought anything of his comment but it had caused you to pause, wondering why Hoseok had felt the need to change his position. At the time, you’d simply shrugged and pointed out that you’d known him when he was younger and that his sister was your best friend.

It only made sense that he wanted to be there to help you out and make sure you were okay.

But that excuse started to falter when you thought about the fact that he never mentioned Jisoo to you. Hoseok didn’t mention anything of the past that you both shared. Instead, he would talk about Hogwarts now and your jobs or ask about what life was like at the Ministry when you’d been there. Those topics often led off onto little tangents and you’d both find yourselves chattering away with each other as the meals went on.

The others would get involved too when they could, but there was something...singular about Hoseok’s focus. And that was to say nothing of how he always made sure to walk you back to your quarters after dinner. There was never much talk that happened then, instead, the two of you simply enjoyed the architecture and decoration of Hogwarts as you found different ways to get back, the company exquisite in its silence.

A comfortable silence that you hadn’t found with many other people.

Chaeyoung was convinced that Hoseok liked you. You’d tried to debunk that theory by pointing out that he’d fancied you when he was younger and it was probably just the allure of an older girl who was more accessible to him than others. You were always around given your friendship with his sister and he’d probably just transferred his teenage hormones onto you at the time.

If anything, he was probably embarrassed about how obvious he was back then. Poor Hoseok had never been subtle in anything.

Despite your defence, Chaeyoung had simply given you a look that you hadn’t been able to interpret. Nor did you understand the subtle glances and smirks that she exchanged with Seokjin whenever Hoseok sat next to you at the dining table. It was like there was a silent conversation happening between the two of them about you, only you weren’t included in it.

Thankfully, you weren’t the type of person to be too influenced by other’s thoughts and opinions. So you didn’t let Chaeyoung’s opinion on the subject impact upon your burgeoning friendship with Hoseok. So even though there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you that there was something more, you ignored it and chose not to ruin the fledgeling friendship you had.

You’d felt a sense of relief though that Chaeyoung had been too busy with marking papers to attend dinner last night, which meant that she hadn’t been able to overhear your conversation with Hoseok last night. The two of you had been discussing his lesson plans for the next few weeks and what creatures his students were going to be studying.

He’d suddenly gotten an odd look on his face before grinning. If there was one thing you had learnt upon being back at Hogwarts, it was that Hoseok’s smile was perhaps one of the prettiest things you’d ever seen. Which was why you’d smiled back at him immediately, even though you had no idea what he was so happy about.

But he hadn’t made you wait and had instead asked if you were tonight. You’d acknowledged it and confusion had been written all over your face but he’d just given an enigmatic shrug. All he’d said after that was to meet him at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest an hour after dinner.

Which was why you were now standing in the dark. Your robes were wrapped tightly around you but it did nothing to stop the way you shivered, jaw tight as a cold wind rushed through the trunks of the trees before you. Part of you wanted to run back to the castle if only to grab your winter coat, but you didn’t want to look like you’d stood Hoseok up.

Though you did wish he’d turn up quicker rather than later.

Huddling under your cloak more, you clasped the edges together with your hands and pushed it up to cover your mouth and nose. It didn’t do a whole lot against the cold, but it was better than being exposed to it. Even though the wind wasn’t strong, it was still enough to cause your robes to flap, the sound loud against the quiet of the grounds.

The only other sound right now was the wind as it howled through the Forbidden Forest, making the already dark and ominous area look even scarier. Even though you were now an adult, there was an underlying fear of the forest before you. Perhaps it was because it had been firmly ingrained in you as a student that this area was off-limits or something.

Still, you wouldn’t want to go walking around in it on your own anytime soon.

The sight of the trees suddenly moving ahead of you made you gasp quietly, body freezing in position as you squinted to try and see what it had been. You knew that the forest was full of many magical creatures; not all of them gentle and kind.

Swallowing hard, you stayed in place to try and avoid attention, gaze skittering around as you tried to find that shape once more. A branch cracking caused you to flinch, your hands tightening into fists around the material of your cloak and you had to clench your jaw to stop any noise from escaping.

The black shape formed once more ahead of you and you almost shrieked in fright, getting ready to run away until you saw a sudden flash of brighter colour. Frowning, you let your hands unclasp themselves until you realised it was a yellow scarf and realisation flooded through your body.

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, the syllables being spat with indignation. Hoseok looked up in surprise, his own eyes widening in surprise before concern etched itself onto his face when he saw the dual outrage and fear on you. Striding forward, you met him just as he was about to cross over the boundary of the trees onto the grounds of the castle and poked at this chest, a scowl on your face.

“You didn’t think to warn me you were going to be coming from the forest! Merlin’s beard, I almost ran away because I was afraid it was something that was going to hurt me.” Hissing at him, you realised belatedly that you had to look up to him to do this. Damn him and his growth spurt.

Still, he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it might seem a little scary. I was just coming back from checking on the centaurs; I haven’t been able to meet them in a while and wanted to see if they were okay.” His explanation was logical but it still made you scowl.

“Why aren’t you carrying a light or something?! Do you always just gallivant around the Forbidden Forest in the dark? Aren’t there dangerous things here?” You pepper him with the questions quickly, each one causing his brow to rise higher incrementally. It’s a good job that it’s dark because you don’t notice the way the corner of his lips quirks up in amusement at your tirade.

“I don’t use one in there, not normally. I know my way around very well. I have worked in this forest for years now. But I do have lanterns dotted around in case I need one and I can always use a lumos spell, like now. I figured you wouldn’t want to journey in the dark.” At that, he pulls his wand out of a pocket in his robes and mutters the spell, the tip lighting up with bright white.

Narrowing your eyes at the sudden influx of light, you’re momentarily startled by just how handsome Hoseok looks in the light. It casts an almost blue glow to him, his normally sun-kissed skin looking paler than you’ve ever seen it before. The shadows on his face only serve to highlight the sharp angles of his features while his eyes almost glitter.

It’s only then that you realise you’re staring, quickly averting your gaze away and focusing them on your hands instead. At that moment, another harsh wind blows through and you shiver in response, your shoulders lifting as you try to curl in on yourself.

Gripping your cloak once more, you’re too distracted to notice what Hoseok is doing. The only sign is the light going a little wonky for a few moments before you’re startled by the sudden feeling of softness on your neck.

Letting out a small ‘eep’ of surprise, you jerk away only to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes, his scarf no longer wrapped around his neck and instead being held out to you. The Hufflepuff colours look washed out in the odd light and you pause, giving him a confused look as you glance between the scarf and him.

Brows raised, he lifts the item before giving you a slow smile. “You’re cold. You can wear this if you want. It’s not as chilly in the forest but I don’t want you to get poorly because of it. I should have warned you, sorry.”

It seems like all he’s done is apologise so far and it makes you feel bad, causing you to nod your head and take the scarf from him. Wrapping it around your neck, you immediately feel a little warmer and you can’t help but take a deep inhale of the scent woven into the soft fibres. It’s a more concentrated form of what you get to smell every meal time; citrus and something with a slight hint of spice.

For a second, you wonder if it’s a cologne it’s bought himself or if perhaps it’s something a woman bought for him. It suits him, either way.

“Are you ready? You don’t have to come if you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything…” Hoseok trails off, biting his lip in an almost nervous way that makes you feel a little odd. Pushing the thought away, you hum and glance behind him into the forest. Your curiosity was too much and so you nodded firmly, giving him a gentle smile before gesturing for him to start walking.

Without another word, he turns around and begins to walk once more. You notice casually that he’s following a path cut into the forest, the ground level and even compared to the wildness all around you. Alongside the sound of your boots on the dirt, you realise that there are a few other noises all around you.

The gentle hoot of an owl is overwhelmed by a shriek far away, causing a chill to run up your spine. Shuffling forward a little quicker, you almost reach out to Hoseok as a tinge of fear takes over. As if he can tell, he turns around and gives you a concerned look.

“What was that?” Whispering, you glance around and wonder if you should talk loudly. Hoseok looks in the same direction as you do before shrugging slightly.

“Could be anything. This forest is full of creatures, both magical and mundane. Might be a bat or could be something else. Don’t worry though, there’s not usually anything dangerous around this part of the forest. It’s too close to the edge and the creatures that can do the most harm prefer to remain deep within the forest.” It’s almost casual the way he slows to walk alongside you, giving you the safety of his presence but you notice it all the same.

Not that you comment on it, of course. But you appreciate it nonetheless.

Giving him a noncommittal sound, you continue until he takes a sudden turn off the path. The forest floor is dense with foliage and tree roots, causing you to trip a few times. Hoseok helps you along, reaching you to hold your arm to keep you upright when you trip over one too many roots and you get the sense he’s enjoying this.

Maybe it’s because he lets out a soft chuckle when you swear loudly, scowling down at the deeply embedded rock that you’d accidentally kicked. Despite the fact your best friend’s little brother is leading you deep into a scary, dark forest, you don’t feel any concern about him. What could be in the forest, sure, but not him.

He gives off a sense of security that surprises you. All those years ago, Hoseok had been the perfect example of an annoying little brother to Jisoo. Always irritating her and doing things with the sole purpose of being a pain, which in turn meant doing those things to you as well. But now he seemed dependable and you got the sense that you’d want him with you if anything bad happened.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Now, I need you to stay very calm and don’t make any large or sudden movements. You might scare her.” Staring at him in alarm, you suddenly realise that you’ve not even questioned what he’s wanting to show you. Not that he’d have told you, you’re positive of that, but his instructions make you feel a little uneasy.

Upon seeing your face in the light of his wand, he gives a small smile and rests his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I promise, you’re going to like this. You’ll understand what I mean.” Frowning at him, you watch as he starts forward once more and realise he’s heading into a little clearing. Sighing deeply, you realise that you don’t want to stand there on your own so you follow him slowly, almost hesitant to see whatever he’s bringing you to.

You swear, if it’s one of those obscenely large spiders that’s supposed to live in this forest then you’re going to jinx him with something he’ll still be suffering from in a year.

The clearing is small and almost circular, though the position of some trees makes it seem a little broken in places. Long grass that is almost bouncy cushions your feet and you wonder if flowers would grow in the daylight, the canopy of trees above broken and allowing more sky through than elsewhere.

During the day it would get a lot of sunlight, but at the moment you couldn’t help staring in awe at the moon as it glowed brightly, it’s full body visible against the black of the sky. A few stars twinkled serenely alongside it, looking peaceful and creating a beautiful image.

A pale, ghostly colour catches your attention from the corner of your eye and you find yourself pressing to Hoseok a little closer. His back is strong and solid against your hands as you tense in concern, peeking around him to try and catch what it was.

What you see causes you to gasp out loud, letting go of Hoseok’s robes abruptly as you take a wide step away from him to get a better view.

Long, sinewy legs move through the forest in an almost dainty manner, picking their way through the undergrowth with care and precision. There’s almost no sound as the creature moves towards the clearing, only the softest rustle of leaves that can’t be avoided. It’s fascinating how quietly it can move given its size and you wonder if it’s some magical ability that allows that.

Within moments, the shape coalesces into a clearer image as it passes through the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. A silver coat practically glows under the moonlight, giving the creature an ethereal feel that makes you feel that it’s not even real. That you’re just seeing an apparition instead of a real animal.

The horn on its head is long and spiralling, ending in a deadly point while the pale white mane and tail flow in elegant waves towards the ground. Golden hooves paw softly at the grass, glinting slightly.

A unicorn.

“Merlin’s beard…” You whisper, pressing a hand to your mouth before looking at Hoseok. “A unicorn...that’s a unicorn!”

They were rare creatures, even rarer now due to being hunted over the centuries by both muggles and wizards. Muggles thought them a myth now while you knew the rumour of the powerful properties that unicorn blood had. You hadn’t even known the Forbidden Forest had unicorns in them.

“It is. I haven’t named her, seems a little wrong to name her. They normally don’t really like men but I found her when she was injured two years ago. She was dying and I helped nurse her back to health. Unicorns have great memories and we’ve kind of become...friends? Or as much of a friend as you can be to one.” He finishes, smiling as he watches the unicorn snort almost in agreement.

Her eyes are a deep black in the moonlight but you note they look almost friendly and kind. Hoseok’s hand on your back pushes you forward slightly, causing you to start and look back at him with wide eyes.

“Move slowly...hold your hand out to her so she can see it and smell it. Be careful and like I said...no sudden moves. You’re a woman so she’s more likely to accept you anyway, but she’ll let you know if she’s not happy.” Gulping, you nod and take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, you try to stop the trembling in your limbs.

Whether it’s from excitement at finally getting to see your favourite magical creature in the flesh or fear of being gored to death by that dangerous horn, you don’t know. But you follow Hoseok’s words, trusting him to be right.

Slowly, you walk forwards with your hand out, palm side up. Each step you take, you stare intently at the body of the unicorn to try and catch any movement that might be viewed as hostile. Given she had four legs, there was no way you could outrun her but you’d at least like to say you had a head start.

Despite your worry, she makes no threatening moves. If anything, she seems cautiously curious; her ears pricked forwards towards you and her eyes remaining focused solely on you. Not a muscle in her body moves, only the chilly wind blowing through her mane and tail.

Finally, you’re almost within touching distance of her. But instead of carrying on, you stop. Something inside you tells you that it’s a good idea to do that, to let her come to you and accept you. So you remain standing there with your palm held out to her, watching her closely.

Nostrils slightly darker than the rest of her body flare wide a few times, likely taking in as much air as she can to smell you. It isn’t enough though and she slowly extends her neck out, her refined head stretching out until you can feel the hotness of her breath. Not moving, you let her investigate until finally, she takes one careful step forward and presses the velvety softness of her muzzle into your hand.

Smiling, you let her increase the pressure before turning your hand and gently stroking her. There’s a moment of almost curiosity in her eyes, not that you can tell what a unicorn is feeling, before she lets out a huff of air and leans her head into your touch, obviously enjoying the feeling.

Your smile turns into a wide grin as you run your hand along her face slowly, letting her get used to the feel of you before you gently scratch at her chin. Almost instantly her ears flatten and you feel a pang of panic, but she just lifts her head and lets out a nicker of contentment, giving you a better position.

“She likes you.” You hear from beside you, and you turn to see Hoseok patting the unicorn’s neck.

Turning away from you momentarily, the mare lets out a soft whinny as she looks behind her into the forest. Frowning, you crane your head to try to see what she’s looking at. Soft footfalls being and you look at Hoseok in confusion, tilting your head at the sight of his grin.

Before you can ask him what’s going on, there’s a high pitched neigh and the mare turns her head back to you, butting at your hand gently. Glancing to her side, your jaw drops once more and you can’t help but squeal lightly.

A foal is standing next to her, it’s coat fluffy with baby fur and a beautiful golden that contrasts completely from its mother. There’s no horn on its head, only a tiny nub that will one day grow long and tall. Gangly legs look too long for its body and the short, fuzzy tail make you coo in delight as it flicks it from side to side eagerly, those big eyes staring at you as it almost dances in place.

Looking at its mum, you almost ask for the permission with a hand raised in the foal's direction and you could swear the unicorn almost nods. Slowly, you move towards the foal and stroke along its short neck, marvelling at how soft and fluffy it is. The foal snorts, its entire body wobbling from the movement and you giggle in delight, completely awed by the sight of them both.

“She had this foal only a month ago, so he’s still pretty small. But he’s a sweetheart and so friendly. As you probably know, he’ll keep that gold coat for two years before paling out to silver.” Hoseok says casually, still stroking the mare and smiling at her fondly.

For a few minutes, you’re too busy playing with the foal to pay attention to his words but they finally sink in.

“What do you mean, as you probably know?” Neither of you had discussed unicorns so far during your mealtime talks, so you didn’t know why he’d think that. Sure, you’d been taught about unicorns in school but that had been so long ago and it hadn’t even been a full class on them.

Your love of them had meant you’d learnt much more about them, absorbing all the information you could find in books when you were a teenager. The fact that you were finally standing here, stroking not only a unicorn but also her foal was something that you’d always wished you could do. Given how rare they were though, you’d never expected it to happen.

“Well, they’re your favourite magical creature, right? Or they were, anyway.” He frowns slightly, unsure if he’s got something wrong and you simply stare at him for a moment.

Had he remembered that from when you’d been at Hogwarts? Given your love of them, it was only natural that he’d known about them back then given how often you’d spent time at his house to have sleepovers with Jisoo. But you’d have thought he’d have forgotten all about that by now.

Jisoo didn’t even remember this as you’d both grown over the years, the obsession of teenagers mellowing out. Unicorns remained your favourite magical creature, but you didn’t hold that deep passion that you did back then. The fact that Hoseok had remembered stunned you into silence for a moment though, causing you to frown down at the foal.

“Yeah...yeah, they are. I...I mean...thank you. For remembering and showing me this, this is amazing. I’ll never forget this, Hoseok.” You’re not entirely sure how to thank him properly, because you don’t know of anyone else who could show you a unicorn like this.

Before you can say anything else or Hoseok can respond, you’re both distracted by the way the foal lets out a squeal and butts his head into you lightly before jumping away. Taken aback, you watch him for a moment for he does it again, his impossibly slim legs wobbling slightly as he trips on a rock.

“He wants you to play,” Hoseok says softly, smiling as he watches you both. Glancing to him, you raise a brow before grinning back at the baby unicorn. Tilting your head at him, you purse your lips before jumping forward and raising your hands in claw motions. Almost immediately, the foal leaps forward before darting back to you and you giggle, already planning your next move.

Yeah, okay, you might be thirty-three years old...but you were going to play with the baby unicorn.

416 notes · View notes

thedistantdusk · 3 years

Text

Invisible Stranger

Written for @clarensjoy‘s Hinny Fic Fest! Prompt #28: “Just... talk to me. Please.” Thanks to Ina for the quick beta :D Summary: When Ginny Weasley is eleven years old, Tom Riddle changes the course of her life. But she’s only eleven, so she doesn’t see it at first. TW: Coded/implied assault. Mild smut (later excerpts). ________________________________________________________ When Ginny Weasley is eleven years old, Tom Riddle changes the course of her life.

But she’s only eleven, so she doesn’t see it at first.

All she knows is that Tom talks to her when she’s lonely, although to say they merely talk would be a staggering understatement. She hears his voice more than anyone else’s. She sees his face when she sleeps. She cries to him, bonds with him, pines with him. She thinks of him so often — regardless of if they’re actually talking — that it doesn’t even occur to her that some of these thoughts might not be her own.

She doesn’t even realize he’s entered her until it’s too late. Until he’s done it. Until he’s made her do things… shameful things. Things she’d been embarrassed to report to her parents. She knows full well she’d only be met with reprimands for making herself vulnerable in the first place.

When she tries to ask her brothers for help, a tiny part of her is happy they don’t. How can she possibly explain this without feeling a hot, aching brand of shame deep in her soul? She’d have to answer some ghastly questions, ones that would make the whole situation even harder to believe. The thought of taking Veritaserum makes her shudder; she’d have to admit — perhaps to a Ministry stranger — that she did enjoy parts of this.

She’d have to watch even more of her agency slip away, right in front of her eyes, as her body betrayed her yet again. The mere thought of the sort of mortifying confession that might slide off her tongue is enough to shut her up… enough to keep her from being even more persistent.

Ginny just lies awake at night and grasps at the straws in her spinning mind until her head pounds from the exertion of trying. She’s desperate to remember something — anything — from the swaths of time that just disappeared. She eventually reaches the conclusion that perhaps she’s forgetting on purpose; perhaps she’s protecting herself.

She just hopes and prays that the memories won’t slam into her sometime in the future with the force of a freight train.

She ultimately decides it’s a blessing, really, that she doesn’t get help. After all, she’s spent eleven years trying to convince everyone that she’s not a baby. It would be the worst kind of setback to ask for help now, just as she’s gained some independence.

When she chucks the diary in the toilet, she’s confident she’s handled it herself. Her mother wouldn’t be thrilled that her only daughter found herself in this situation, but Ginny likes to think she’d be proud of her resourcefulness. Proud of her only daughter, who’s finally taken control.

Still, Ginny keeps her head down, keeps her face impassive, keeps her cloak pulled tightly to hide the deepest blush of regret that crawls up her chest whenever she thinks of Tom.

Then the worst possible thing happens: Harry gets ahold of the diary. The second she sees it with his books, she can almost hear the entire world crumbling beneath her feet.

She only has a single thought: No. She can’t let him. She can’t let Harry, of all people, have open access to the thoughts that have plagued her for months. The thoughts (the lurid, inappropriate thoughts) that she’s had about him.

So she steals up to Harry’s room and snatches it back, her heart pounding in her throat. She’s long past the point of needing the diary itself to hear Tom’s voice, but seizing it again — letting him inside of her again — doesn’t exactly help.

Because right from the off, this time is different. The diary hums against her fingers, throbbing in her palm; Tom hasn’t said a word, but she knows he’s going to punish her. She lets out a strangled choke, her eyes rolling back in her head. He’s going to make her regret her little stunt of chucking him in the toilet, isn’t he? Yes. He’s going to make her rue the stupid, impulsive part of her that thought she’d find a way out.

Her last thought as she loses consciousness is that maybe death will end it. Maybe in death, she’ll truly be free.

Ginny doesn’t die, though — and to her surprise, she can’t even hear Tom when she wakes in the Chamber. All she knows is that Harry’s there. And Ron. And… Lockhart? Seriously?

Shit, maybe it would’ve been better if she died. Then she wouldn’t have to endure the remnants of this mortifying, twisted nightmare. Then maybe she wouldn’t have to sit there and sob as Dumbledore and McGonagall explain this to her parents.

She just lets the tears flow as her father yells, as her mother makes incredulous sounds. With every intonation and raised voice, a single word thumps against her skull: Weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

She’s weak.

But at least for now, she’s alone in her own mind. At least for now, it won’t happen again… not like it has. In retrospect, she reckons she should’ve known better to think he’d ever truly left. Because Tom Riddle has already become her past, present, and future. She just doesn’t know it yet. _______________

Tom takes a different form during her second and third years at Hogwarts. He isn’t entering her or forcing her to do things or beguiling her with his charm and feigned interest, but he’s there nonetheless. He’s dancing, taunting her in the edges of her periphery… crawling in when the weather changes and everything grows cold and dark. Whenever she does poorly on an exam — especially in the winter months, the anniversaries of when things went from Vaguely Bad to Horrifically Bad — she swears she can feel his sneering lips pressed to her neck as his high-pitched cackle resonates in her brain.

“You’re a baby,” he jeers, his face split into a predatory grin. “I can’t wait to see how else you fail.”

When Ginny catches a glimpse of the way Harry peers at Cho, Tom only reinforces how she’ll never compare. “Look at her,” he taunts, and Ginny can almost see the leer curling his lips. “She’s poised and beautiful and perfect. She looks like a woman. Why would Harry ever want a girl?”

And he says it so much — and Ginny thinks it so much — that she starts to believe it. He’ll never want her, will he? It’s clear Harry likes girls, women, who don’t need rescuing. Why would he want someone who’s been tainted with darkness?

So Ginny moves on… slowly. She finds strength in other ways. She uses quidditch to regain trust in her own body, the trust she had before Tom made her question her own muscles and movements.

She even dates, as she feels a normal teenager would. Not that she breathes a word about Tom to any of her potential suitors. She knows they couldn’t handle it; most boys couldn’t, not that she blames them. She knows untainted boys would respond like her friends have: by awkwardly clearing their throats through a whispered, “Oh” or a strangled, “I’m so sorry.” Then they’d treat her like she’s made of glass, and it would ruin things.

Because if there’s one thing she won’t tolerate, it’s someone making her feel weak. Weak gets you in trouble; weak ruins your life and makes you undesirable. No matter how much Tom loves to bother her in winter, she’ll never let anyone see the resulting weakness.

_______________

Ginny considers herself fortunate, really, that Tom doesn’t outwardly come up when she ends things with Dean. It’s an accomplishment that she escapes from that relationship relatively unscathed. Her darkness didn’t accidentally show itself or lay there, sprawling and naked, for him to pick apart.

It’s different with Harry, of course. She knows it will be from the second he kisses her in the common room. He’s the first one who doesn’t need to see her in a mask of normalcy and constant contentment. He’s the first one who understands that she’s not asking for an apology or reassurance when she accidentally drops a sad piece of her backstory into a casual conversation.

On the few occasions when she does say things like that (because, again, she doesn’t have to watch her words with him) Harry just holds her closer, her ear pressed to his beating heart, as he runs his calloused fingers through her hair.

And Ginny thinks, for once in her life, that perhaps there’s an unspoken value in sharing that sort of darkness.

_______________

She tells Harry the full details of Tom pretty soon after they start shagging. She knows the war’s over; she knows they’ve kind of won. She also knows a well-adjusted person would have left this bit behind… but she reckons neither of them will ever be well-adjusted, really. They’re the sort of couple who cries when they hear I love you but remains stone-faced at funerals of their friends. For Harry especially, she knows that love presents as something that makes him feel uncomfortably warm, almost smothered. It can be a prickly, painful, cloying sensation… one he doesn’t always know how to respond to. With everyone else, he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing. Of seeming either too flippant or too mindful.

But as their bodies connect, as they rock together in the dying sunlight, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulses inside her, he doesn’t have to pretend, either.

Harry’s angry when she tells him… but not with her. He’s angry Tom ever made her feel that way. He’s especially angry with the worst of what Tom said: that on the off-chance Harry did want her, he’d only want her for sex.

Harry brings it up several months after her initial admission.

“You know what I think about a lot?” he slurs, his finger tracing the curve of her breast as she lies naked beside him.

She quirks a brow; no, but it doesn’t seem like a rhetorical question.

Harry sighs, flopping over to his back. “I mean, I know it’s horrible and everything,” he allows, raising his hand in warning, “but seriously, I can’t help but be confused that Tom thought I’d be good enough at sex to use anyone for anything in the first place!”

There’s a moment of silence.

And then Ginny cackles, shaking her head against the threadbare pillow in her bedroom. Harry joins her, pressing her against his side.

“I’m glad we’re both fucked up,” she says, when the giggles subside. “I reckon normal people are boring.”

“Probably,” Harry agrees, his hand unconsciously toying with her hair. “Guess normal isn’t really my type, though.”

“Oh, so you prefer funny and traumatized?”

Harry smirks. “I prefer you.”

_______________

Tom doesn’t come back in full force until she falls pregnant the first time.

Maybe it’s because they hadn’t planned on this— and regardless of how misty-eyed and excited Harry is, they definitely hadn’t planned on it.

Maybe it’s because she’s certain it’s a boy, which carries certain burdens as the son of the Chosen One.

Maybe it’s because she’s feeling a similar loss of control, like her body isn’t her own.

But mostly, she reckons, it’s because she’s plagued with the near-constant thought that she’s doing something wrong.

She had a glass of wine before she found out (strike one, Bad Mum). She trips on her trainers and lands on her bum (very, very Bad Mum). She starts spotting at 12 weeks after she goes for the only jog of her entire pregnancy (horrifically Bad Mum; utterly unfit to raise a child).

And all of this spins around in her head, faster and faster and faster, until she sees Tom’s face again one night. “You’re fat now,” he mocks, his voice a cruel whisper that slithers into the space between slumber and consciousness. “The nerve of you, thinking you’d do something so selfish as staying in shape at a time like this. I can’t wait to see Harry’s face when you tell him you’ve lost the ba—“

She bolts upright in bed, her heart pounding, and throws the blankets off to peer between her thighs. A ragged chuckle of relief escapes her lips. Nothing. There’s nothing, the baby’s fine, and—

“Ginny?”

Shit.

She bites her lip and turns to Harry. He’s peering at her, his expression exhausted but alert. She hates that look, she really does; it reminds her too much of when he’d woken from his own dreams, right after the war.

“A nightmare,” she whispers, brushing his hair from his eyes. “Only a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

Harry sighs and grips her hand. He knows better. “Just... talk to me. Please. You don’t even have—“

“—It’s Tom,” she cut across, biting her lip. She feels guilty enough for waking Harry when he’s got work tomorrow; she’d better make it quick. “It’s just… stupid pregnancy shit, taking the form of Tom. Or maybe it just is Tom, somehow. I don’t really know.”

She throws her hands in the air before settling back against the headboard. And then, in a small voice: “He just… he’s so great at making me feel stupid.”

There’s a beat.

Harry reaches up to cup her cheek; she leans into the warmth, unsure if she’s finding more comfort in the familiarity or the gesture itself.

“Well,” he says slowly; she can tell from his tone that he’s biting his lip, even if she can’t see it in the darkness. “You’re not stupid. But it’s also not stupid that he still makes you feel like that sometimes. Does that… make any sense?”

Her lips twitch in a soft smile. “It does. It makes sense. I just... I hate feeling weak.”

Harry chuckles and pulls her against him. She sighs into the crook of his neck, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin.

“I could use a lot of words to describe you, darling.” His fingers dance on the gentle swell of her belly; he always sounds so pleased when he touches her, especially here, like he can’t help but feel chuffed that he’s actually knocked her up. “But I’m afraid that weak doesn’t make the cut.”

Ginny giggles. “I’ll just have to settle for mad, I reckon,” she manages through a yawn. What is it about his bloody heartbeat that always settles her?

“Mad it is,” he agrees, kissing her forehead.

_______________

“It’s him again, isn’t it.”

It’s not a question. But if it were, the answer would be obvious.

Ginny’s staring out the window, her whole body poised and anxious. Every fiber of her being is taut. If she had a bit more self-awareness, she might compare herself to a hunting dog who’s just sensed a pheasant.

But self-awareness is the furthest thing from her mind. Not when she’s worried about her babies. And she’s worried about all of her babies, yes — but there’s something especially triggering about the involvement of her little girl. Her only girl. Her girl, who’s exactly the same age as she was, right when—

“He’s here!”

Ginny scarcely hears the words leave her lips as Pig flies through the air and into their open window. Safe. She hasn’t even read the letter yet, but she can tell from Lily’s messy scrawl across the parchment, from the agreed upon symbol of a tiny dragon, printed in the corner, that she’s safe.

Ginny has to draw a deep breath to stop herself from bawling with relief.

“Told you she’d be fine,” Harry murmurs, wrapping an arm around her waist. He rests his chin on the crown of her head as Ginny rips the letter open, nonetheless desperate for the proof she knows she’ll flnd. Desperate for confirmation that her baby’s made it to school all right. Desperate to know another little girl — her little girl — won’t find herself violated and alone.

Ginny reads the letter through a veil of tears and presses it to her chest when she’s done. Safe. Her baby’s safe.

A few minutes later, she turns to Harry with an apologetic shrug, brushing the tears from her eyes. “Ready for dinner?” she asks, gesturing towards the door. “Or did you want to stay inside all day and mope about having an empty house for the first time in ages?”

Harry rolls his eyes, but a smile plays at his lips. He mutters something under his breath that distinctly sounds like not sure which of us was doing the moping, darling.

But Ginny’s happy to ignore that as she links her arm in his. She’s pleased to go to dinner and drink too much and laugh too loudly. It’s just another reminder of what she has… and how she almost didn’t have it, at all.

Because while Tom Riddle might be her past, present, and future, Ginny will do everything in her power to ensure he never defines another little girl’s life like that.

Ever again.

#HinnyFicFest2021 #harry/ginny fanfic #harry/ginny #invisible stranger #tom riddle

177 notes · View notes

bluemoon-writer · 3 years

Text

Childhood Friends AU: Marikim part 4

In which two dumbasses fall in love

AN: You don't have to read the previous parts to understand this one, but it might add a little context. parts 1-3 are only headcanons about their friendship though, there's nothing romantic included unlike in this part.

Read them here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-Kim catches feelings first

-he doesn’t realize it at first, but ever since Lila accused him of having feelings for Mari he started wondering what dating her would be like

-they would be doing something mundane like homework, or walking to school together, and he would start to wonder how different it would be if they were dating.

-he assumes they would hold hands, maybe give each other quick kisses when no was looking

-and he starts to think that he wouldn’t mind holding hands with Marinette or kissing her

-just as friends tho, because he totally does not have a crush on her

-but then, Ondine confesses to him

-and his first thought is ‘but I like Marinette’

-he says that out loud though

-“oh shit, I’m sorry Ondine. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t know why I said that, because I totally don’t have a crush on Marinette…”

-Kim is in denial

-Ondine is a little sad, but she’s also a total bro

-meaning if she can’t be with her crush then she’ll make sure her crush is at least happy

-Kim doesn’t make it easy though, because he’s also a bro

-once he accepts that he genuinely likes Marinette, he doesn’t even consider the possibility of them dating

-because Marinette likes Adrien

-Kim’s heart aches a little when he remembers that

-so there’s only one thing for him to do

-get Marinette and Adrien together

-Ondine agrees to help, but secretly has an ulterior motive

-which is: get Marinette to fall for Kim while Kim is trying to get her and Adrien to date

-it’s a mess

-but together they make a rough plan

-the first step is to get Marinette to actually hold a normal conversation with Adrian

-they’ll have her practice on Kim to start

-kim wanted to team up with Alya initially, but Ondine convinces him that it’s best if they work separately

-bc Ondine doesn’t want Marinette and Adrien to actually get together. Alya would take the planning seriously, while Ondine is not

-they rush over to Marinette’s house after swim practice

-Kim has a key to Marinette’s house so he doesn’t even knock

-he just pops into the bakery to hug Sabine, wave at Tom, and grab some snacks

-Ondine marvels at how close they have to be for Kim to be this comfortable with Marinette’s family

-they run up to Mari’s room

-again, Kim doesn’t knock, he just walks in and flops on her couch

-Ondine awkwardly walks in with a wave bc she doesn’t really know Marinette and doesn’t want to seem rude

-Marinette had been expecting Kim but is surprised to see Ondine

-her shipper brain starts wondering if she should help them get together?

- “We’re going to help you get together with Adrien!” Kim announces.

-Marinette collapses back in her chair with a groan

- “Ugh, not you too! Maybe I’m happy just watching him from afar.”

“No offence Mari, but that makes you sound like a creepy stalker,” Kim argues.

“I can’t even talk to Adrien properly! Much less get the courage to ask him out!”

“That’s what we’re going to help you with!” Ondine interjects. “With our help, you’ll be able to talk to Adrien without a problem!”

-Marinette’s curiosity is piqued

- “How?”

-Marinette reluctantly agrees with practice on Kim, not convinced that it’ll actually work

-they sit on the floor facing each other, with Ondine in the middle like a referee

-they tape a picture of Adrien to Kim’s face

-Kim does bad impressions of Adrien’s voice and Marinette can’t collect herself well enough to hold a conversation

-not because she’s nervous but bc she keeps laughing at Kim’s impressions

-Ondine is in serious coach mode tho

-she pretends to blow a whistle every time they mess up

“Come on team! I know you can get this right!”

-eye holes are cut in the picture of Adrien so that Kim can see

-but that just makes Marinette laugh harder

-a mouth hole is added so Kim can eat some snacks

-Kim tries to impersonate Adrien while eating

-does a dramatic hair flip and chokes on a cookie

-Marinette is sobbing from laughter and Ondine has given up on whistling

-eventually (after they run out of snacks) they calm down

-Ondine throws away the picture of Adrien

-Things are serious now

-Kim takes Marinette’s hands and gives her a gentle smile while leaning forward slightly

“Hey Marinette,” he says in a low voice

-and Marinette’s heart skips a beat. Just once.

-but there were no thoughts of Adrien in her head

-once she does think of Adrien doing this, then she turns beat red

“uh, h-hey A-A-Adrien! How’s you do? I-I mean, h-how do you? How are you!”

-Kim is starting to blush now because Marinette is just so cute

-He wants to bop her on the nose

-so he does

-Marinette blushes even harder, but it ruins the roleplay

“KIM! Adrien isn’t going to randomly bop me on the nose!

“He might! I’m trying to prepare you for all possible events!” Kim argues to save his ass

-Ondine lowkey feels like she’s third wheeling

-but on the upsides, the longer she watches Marinette and Kim interact, the more she ships them and the smaller her crush grows

-soon she’ll be a full-time Marikim shipper

-after that first instance, Marinette can’t imagine Kim as Adrien

-Kim insists that she just needs to “focus on the blonde part of his hair”

-but it doesn’t work

-their conversations turn into inside jokes about each other

-eventually hunger drives them downstairs for dinner

-Ondine is invited to stay and the conversation turns to swim practice

-eventually Ondine stops feeling like a third wheel

-the next step is to have Marinette interact with Adrien in a group setting

-so another study group is scheduled

-in the days leading up to the study group, Kim starts lowkey hyping Marinette up to Adrien

-when Marinette gets an A on a test Kim is holding it up to show Adrien how smart Marinette is

-when Marinette stumbles through a few lines in another language Kim shouts to Adrien, “Dude, did you hear that? Marinette is BILINGUAL”

-when Marinette makes it to class just before the bell rings, Kim nudges Adrien and goes, “Isn’t Marinette cute when she’s running late?”

-whenever someone compliments Kim on something he goes, “Psh, Marinette is twice as good as me. DID YOU KNOW THAT ADRIEN?”

-Adrien assumes this is Kim’s weird way on trying to become friends, by talking up one of their mutual friends

-so, he starts talking up Marinette to Kim

- “did you know Marinette is so talented that Jagged Stone asked her to design his album cover?!”

-this leads to full-blown conversations about Marinette in the hallway

-which actually leads to them becoming friends?

-through talking about Marinette, they realize they have a lot in common

-both like sports, video games, jagged stone, and Marinette

-Ondine overhears Kim hyping Marinette up to Adrien in the hallway and decides to copy him

-She starts coming over every day after practice under the guise of ‘helping Marinette learn to talk to Adrien’

-really it just devolves into the three of them joking around after an hour

-but during these ‘sessions’ she starts hyping Kim up

- “Kim nearly broke a world record at practice today! I swear he’s going to the Olympics!”

-Kim always returns the compliment tho

- “If I’m going to the Olympics then so are you! You’re just as good!”

-which further convinces Marinette that they like each other

-Finally, that Saturday is the study group

-its Max, Nino, Chloe, Adrien, Kim, and the newest addition of Ondine

-(if you want to know how the study group started read part 3)

-Marinette spends the morning nervously cooking snacks

-Kim and Ondine come over early to ‘help’

-Kim knows how to cook, but he spends most of the time stealing bits of batter

-Ondine doesn’t know how to cook, so Marinette shows her the ropes

-This helps Marinette calm down too

-Marinette is more nervous than the last time their study group met because this time she has the ulterior motive of trying to get closer to Adrien while last time she was focused on studying

-the study group gathers in the living room of Marinette’s house

-Kim and Adrien are next to each other and Marinette is strategically placed across from them

-this way if Marinette gets too nervous to look at Adrien, she can look at Kim instead and pretend she’s talking to him

-the first couple minutes of the study group are filled with laughter and snacks as everyone piles into the living room

-but eventually they quiet down to do some independent studying

-Adrien is great at science so Marinette figures she’ll ask him to explain one of the concepts listed on their science study guide

“Hey Adrien,” Marinette starts confidently, however, almost as soon as the words are out of her mouth she starts to get cold feet. She glances at Kim who gives her a subtle thumbs up and a wink. Marinette swears the blush that starts to cover her face is just from being nervous about talking to Adrien.

Adrien glances up from his book, “What’s up, Marinette?”

Marinette glances back and forth between Kim and Adrien before settling her gaze on Adrien.

“C-could you explain how the potato is used as an example of osmosis? I don’t understand it.”

-Adrien is happy to help, and launches into an explanation

-Marinette so is high of the rush of dopamine from successfully asking Adrien a question that she’s able to ask two follow up questions after Adrien is done speaking

-Nino pinches Max to keep him from intervening

-Kim is proud of Marinette, but he can’t help but also be a little sad because she’s never been that excited to simply talk to him

-however, what he doesn’t know is that after Marinette successfully talks to Adrien, she finds her thoughts not centered around Adrien, but around Kim

-She knows science isn’t Kim’s best subject and her thoughts keep drifting from questions to ask Adrien to how Kim is doing.

-she doesn’t realize it yet, but her feelings for Adrien have shrunken a little which is partly why she found it easier to talk to him

-the other reason is that she’s just become more confident in herself due to the ‘practice sessions’

-when the study group ends Kim and Ondine stay behind to help clean up

-Kim is hiding the fact that he’s bummed about Marinette and Adrien and Ondine realizes this so she tries to distract him

-she sticks two pretzel sticks in her mouth

“Guess what I am?”

“Uh, a walrus, duh.”

“No! I’m the giant spider from Harry Potter.”

Kim chokes on a laugh from surprise, “What the hell? How was I supposed to guess that?”

-Marinette watches them mess around and becomes certain that they like each other

-but now she feels…off about it.

-together the three clean up quickly

-the weekly Dupain cheng/Le family dinner is tonight, so Kim isn’t leaving after study group, but Ondine gets ready to leave

-Marinette invites her to stay for dinner though

-even though she feels weird about Ondine and Kim getting together she’s still gonna do what she can to help their relationship

-bc she’s also a bro

-also, Ondine has been around so much the past month that she’s practically a permanent fixture in Marinette’s life

-she also doesn’t knock anymore when entering Mari’s room and is on a first name basis with her parents

-Ondine is honestly glad to have become such good friends with Marinette

-After the success of the first study group, more are planned

-it becomes a biweekly event

-Ondine is worried at first that this might backfire and Marinette and Adrien will actually get together

-but she notices that while Marinette talks to Adrien more she also blushes less

-in their practice sessions Marinette has also stopped gushing over Adrien

-what convinced Ondine for sure that Marinette’s crush on Adrien was gone though was when a new exclusive photoshoot of Adrien came out and the first thing Marinette commented was the design of his outfit

-how did things get to this point?

-well, interacting as friends and focusing on becoming friends made Marinette see Adrien in a platonic light

-Marinette just doesn’t realize her crush is gone bc it was so ingrained in her that it became a facet of her identity

-she has black hair, blue eyes, and a crush on Adrien

-it’s when Marinette has zoned out while staring at Kim that Ondine decides they’re ready to move to the next step

-it’s time for Marinette and Kim to go on a fake date

-the official reason is so that Marinette gets practice before asking Adrien out

-the unofficial reason is that Ondine is 90% sure that Marinette is also crushing on Kim now, and she thinks that if they’re in a romantic setting then she’ll realize the reality of her feelings

-and so, after school, instead of going home like usual, Marinette and Kim go to the movies instead to see the newest romantic comedy

-Ondine secretly trails after them with binoculars, just to make sure everything goes well

-Kim pays and refuses to split the price, much to Marinette’s dismay

-as the trailers play, they get into a mini popcorn fight and waste half their popcorn

-a bunch of it ends up stuck in Marinette’s hair

-Kim, heart pounding, holds Marinette’s chin to keep her head still as he gently pulls popcorn out of her hair

-The darkness of the theater is the only thing hiding Marinette’s blush.

-Kim leans closer, focusing on getting all the little pieces of popcorn

-Marinette’s gaze is locked on Kim though. Their faces are only inches apart.

-Suddenly, Kim looks down and realizes the position they’re in

-He’s frozen, unsure of what to do.

-He wants to lean in and kiss her, but he thinks she still likes Adrien

-Adrien, however, is the last thing on Marinette’s mind. The only thing she can focus on at the moment is the warmth of Kim’s breath on her face.

-The moment is ruined however, by a group of people jostling past them to get to their seats

-The movie begins shortly after, but both teens are distracted by other thoughts

-They head for the park afterwards

-They’re hearts stopping each time their hands bump into each other.

-Ondine finally gets fed up and texts Kim to hold hands with Marinette

-Kim looks around in confusion, unsure where Ondine was watching them from

-But he does what she says

-Marinette looks up in surprise

-“We’re on a date, so we should hold hands, yeah?” Kim says with a blush.

“O-oh! Right, yes!”

-Both of them look away and blush

-Their conversation on the way to the park is a little awkward as neither of them are sure what to say until Kim blurts out, “By the way, I think Ondine is stalking us.”

-This launches them into a game of “spot Ondine without her noticing.”

-They fail miserably, completely unable to find her

-But they have an amazing time guessing where or who she might be

-Each time their guesses get more and more ridiculous

-Which has them laughing uproariously in the middle of the park

-This garners the attention of several people, in particular a blonde model who is in the middle of a photoshoot.

-Kim walks Marinette home, and, unable to stop himself, kisses her on the cheek before leaving

-Marinette can only stare at Kim’s back as he leaves

-Half an hour later, her mom opens the door to take out the trash, and scares Marinette out of her reverie

-Marinette is supposed to confess to Adrien the next day, but when she goes to bed the only person she can think of it Kim

-(she dreams about him too)

-The next day, Marinette asks Adrien to stay behind after class so she can ask him something

-Kim and Ondine wait anxiously outside the classroom

-Kim is torn between excitement for Marinette and heartbreak for himself

-in the classroom, Adrien gazes at Marinette expectantly

-He’s not sure what she needs from him, but he’s ready to help

-Marinette breathes in deeply, mentally preparing herself utter the three simple words.

-But they don’t come out.

-They can’t come out, and Marinette realizes with shock that it’s not because she’s nervous.

-In fact, she doesn’t feel anything at all except a sense of wrongness

-For some reason, the only person she can imagine confessing to is Kim

-her eyes widen as the realization sets in

-She doesn’t like Adrien anymore

-She likes Kim

----

AN: There we go! The long awaited Part 4 is finally up a year later. Don't worry, part 5 won't take as long. Though, it probably won't be up until after I finish finals and move home.

I didn't intend for Ondine to have such a big role, someone mentioned that I forgot about Ondine in the last part, and I slapped myself for forgetting her, so I made sure to start with her and then it just snowballed until she was part of the crew lol.

Also, I discontinued the taglist because it got too big and I got overwhelmed.

#marikim #mlb #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #kim le chien #marinette x kim #childhood friends au #mlb headcanon #kimette

176 notes · View notes

ask-the-clergy-bc · 3 years

Note

Headcanons for dew, rain, mountain and the papa’s s/o (feel free to leave out the ghoulies if you want <3) revealing that they have a glass eye after they’ve been dating for a while, but with a silly spontaneous taking out of the eye. (I recommend watching a video on how glass eyes work first though <3)

Thank you so much for recommending the videos, they really helped! I mostly went with your request of having the reveal be a silly prank and mixed it in with a few other scenarios, I hope that’s ok! And heck yeah, I’ll be happy to add the ghouls to it! Please enjoy! :)

Also feedback is always welcome!

Ember, Rain, Mountain, and the Papas React to their S/O removing their Glass Eye for the first time

Rain: Your ghoul lover had known about your eye since you first became an item. But it was becoming clear more and more often that he was very curious about your eye. He was a quiet and polite ghoul by nature despite his massive curiosity, so you knew it would take some time before he approached you on his own with questions. Not that you would have minded! Rain was respectful and you trusted him to be the same when it came to your eye. When one day you had taken it out to adjust after it had been bothering you for most of the morning you caught your lover watching, utterly fascinated. But Rain looked ashamed the moment you looked back at him. “It’s ok to be curious, Babe. It’s not a bad thing!” You assured him with a gentle smile and beckoned him over. Rain was happy you weren’t upset with him and did end up asking quite a bit! How to clean it, how does it stay, what is it made out of? You considered it a real bonding experience between you both!

Mountain: The drummer had been more blunt about your eye than anticipated, but it was obvious he meant no disrespect. During a conversation it eventually came up that your eye was fake. Mountain replied with a factual, “oh I noticed. It’s quite amazing.” You were taken aback by his genuine appreciation for the simple prosthesis, and you pressed to know why. Mountain took the time to explain that he found human medicines and inventions incredible. In Hell there were no such things as prosthetics or any medical machinery. When you lost a limb or a body part you just dealt with it. Mountain eventually told you the only time he has seen another eye like yours was one that belonged to a stone ghoul leader. It was an exquisitely carved and smoothed green gem! He ends up comparing the high quality of your eye to the gem and lamented that he would never be able to carve a rock to the degree of which your eye was made! It was a fascinating conversation, as you never considered what happened to ghouls in Hell before they came to Earth. It even made you blush when Mountain admitted he thought your eye was one of the most amazing things in the world.

Ember: The first time you removed your eye in front of the fire ghoul you had startled him! All you said was, “Hey babe, wanna see a trick?” and plucked your eye out. The lack of warning certainly caught him off guard as he jumped like a cat. You laughed HARD when his tail was stiffened straight and he garbled half sentences at you. When his brain finally processed what happened he threw his hands up, exasperated. “You could have just TOLD ME, I thought you were about to do something fucking TERRIFYING!” A few minutes after catching your breath you almost regretted showing him as his enthusiasm started to show. Ever since he found out your eye was fake he INSISTED that your next eye should be all white so you could pretend to be an Emeritus. Ember vehemently claimed it’d be hilarious to watch everyone shit their pants when you come out MARKED BY LUCIFER! Of course, you know how terrible of an idea that is! But hey, he’s got the right spirit!

Papa Nihil: Originally randomly removing your eye was going to be a small joke. It was a prank you liked to do from time to time, and you’d be lying if you said you DIDN’T enjoy the reactions you got. Some people looked confused and others jumped from shock. It always ended in huge peels of laughter from you and your friends. What you could have never anticipated was what would happen was Nihil cackling after the fact. You had expected shock or curiosity, but not the Grand Papa practically laughing in your face. When he saw your confused look he gestured for you to come over. It was your turn to laugh when he removed a bottom row of teeth from his mouth. When you sat down to exchange stories Nihil told you about a wild bar fight he got into back in the 70’s. It resulted in him having a banged up jaw and needing a small row of bottom teeth to be permanently replaced. When you shared your story he was just as happy to listen!

Papa I: You weren’t planning on taking out your eye in front of Papa, but necessity waits for no one. That day you were trying a new prosthesis from your doctor, but it just didn’t seem to work out for you. The eye was a slightly different fit and shape than you were used to and it had been irritating you all morning! Papa and you had taken to the sitting room to read together, but the eye made it impossible! you couldn't focus with the damn thing bothering you. You had enough and just popped to accursed thing out. Moments after your sigh of relief you realized Papa had stopped to watch you, a look of concern plastered on his face. He didn't seem alarmed that you were holding an eye in your hand, more so that you looked so uncomfortable. “Are you alright? Is your eye hurting you?” It took a moment to snap out of your stupor but you shook your head and explained everything. Papa nodded politely and smiled, happy to know you were ok. After you excused yourself you were quick to go back to your old eye. When you settled down next to him again you couldn’t help but quench your newfound curiosity. “It doesn’t bother you that my eye is fake?” Papa set down his book, confused as he removed the reading glasses from his face. “.... why should that bother me?” Honestly, that one question was all you needed to hear.

Papa II: When you first started dating you were immediately open about your eye. It wasn’t a terribly big deal for you, but you felt it fair to let him know. Papa only ‘hmm’d’ when you told him but thanked you for the information. If anything, unless it was bothering you it rarely came up in your day to day life! The only time you’ve ever seen him react to it was when he caught someone staring at your face at a clergy function. Your eye was incredibly realistic but there was always bound to be someone who noticed it was a prosthesis. You were used to it, as you knew people were often curious. Very few people ever made you uncomfortable. Papa on the other hand did not share your sentiment. One thing everyone knew about the second Emeritus is how he absolutely despised anything he considered, in his words, “boorish”. Before you could say anything to the person Papa’s voiced hissed out as his hand clasped your shoulder. “Do you mind, or are you going to stare like a gaping troglodyte.” The sibling didn’t need to be told twice and immediately scurried away. Papa cleared his throat as you shook your head, trying to hide your smile. He apologized for speaking over you, and even looked a little embarrassed at his sudden defensiveness. You, in turn, told him he could make up it up to you by getting you a drink!

Papa III: Your mischievous streaks were only matched by Papa’s. It’s what made you fall for each other, after all! So naturally you decided your big reveal would have to be a good one. You waited until the perfect opportunity arose one night. You both had a fun game of saying or doing the most over the top romantic clichés you could think of. It was like your own little game you only played with each other! Papa's favorite tactic was to bombard you with the cheesiest pick up lines he could think of! You loved to roll your eyes and pretend you didn't love every minute. The moment finally came one night when Papa had fallen into your lap, proclaiming how amazing your eyes were. Papa went over the top to make you laugh- saying how much they sparkled like the night sky and were like gems he wanted to keep like little treasures. You grinned and without missing a beat reached up to your face. “You like them that much? Here-” he gasped as you plucked it out, “you can have one!” It took Papa a few moments before he howled laughing, you joining him shortly. Papa praised you for your excellent comedic timing and it has been your inside joke ever since!!

Papa IV/Copia: The fact that Copia saw you taking out your eye at all had been a rather hilarious coincidence... to you at least! It often slipped your mind when you first started seeing each other to tell him of your eye. It wasn't a huge concern for you and every time you remembered you figured the right opportunity would come. One day when you woke up you decided it was as good a time as ever to clean it. You had been ready to start cleaning it and plucked it out as Copia wandered into your shared bathroom, half asleep. Copia hollered at first when he saw you remove it. He frantically shook his head and rubbed at his own eyes to make sure he was awake. When you both realized what had happened Copia had little time to blush as you doubled over laughing. Eventually, after your giggle fit, Copia apologized profusely for his crappy behavior. He explained that he was still waking up and thought you had just randomly pulled something out of your eye socket. You had to convince him a couple of times that you did not take offense to his reaction. As far as you were concerned, no harm no foul! You knew that Copia would NEVER purposely make someone feel bad. Eventually he came around and accepted that you weren’t mad at him!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #reader insert #ember #mountain #rain #papa nihil #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia

73 notes · View notes

wendimydarling · 3 years

Text

Cover the Mirrors

Summary: Amber is earning a masters degree in mythology and folklore; when a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet, she’s left wondering how, and struggles to keep up with his lifestyle.

Pairing: Vampire!August Walker x OFC (first person reader)

Word Count: 6826

Warnings: Alright, we ready to get into the menu of delights we will be reading today? Okay but seriously, if you are triggered by anything on this list, it is your responsibility to not read this work of fiction. The warnings are as follows: manipulation, subtle exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, mention of oral (male receiving), biting, clawing, choking, blood, male violence, gore, non-con, rape, spitting, fear play, primal play, breeding, mention of death, torture, and potentially cannibalism, if you squint.

A/N: Okay so this story is based off of this thread where @killjoy-assbutt-1112 gave me a fic title, but I added another twist to it that I’d been brewing for months; I was excited about it but now I’m not. Whatever, I’ll give it to you anyway. Sources for my vampire lore came from here and here. Cover art was made by me; August was drawn by the amazingly talented @cheyentjj and has been used with her permission. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed with me, and a special thanks to @agniavateira for betaing!

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death.

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.”

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already.

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet.

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me.

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls.

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

Read on AO3.

#august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fan fiction #august walker fanfiction #august walker fan fic #august walker smut #vampire!august #non-con tw

177 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years

Note

So I did the random word generator, and I got paper. And that made me think of paper airplanes. So, how about reader making a paper airplane and throwing it through the SDR2 Boys window, and inside the paper airplane is a love letter confessing reader’s feelings toward them.

T h a n k you for this bc I gotta practice writing the bois. I absolutely love writing these types of scenarios owo

..........

Teruteru

“Oh? What could this be~?” The chef noticed the paper airplane that appeared on the floor of his cottage, picking it up.

It was only then he noticed his partially opened window and chuckled. For him, it was easy to put two-and-two together.

“Ah, how cliche. Do I have a secret admirer on this island? Perhaps they wanna share all their secrets with me~?” The thoughts running through his mind almost made his nose bleed, though he managed to control himself as he unfolded the plane to read its contents.

And it turned out to be a simple love letter from you--short, sweet, and innocent. You even marked it with a heart at the bottom of the page.

Teruteru’s face became tomato-red as he clutched the letter to his chest, before hurrying out of his cottage and to the hotel restaurant, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

“I’m on my way, my new beloved~!!” He trilled, knowing you’d be waiting for him there.

...............

Gundham

“Huh..so this is what the mighty winds have carried into my domain.” Gundham mused as he looked at the paper airplane that somehow landed on his bed. He looked outside for a moment, wondering who could have sent it--but there was no one.

“A mysterious messenger, hm..what do you think, Cham-P?” He glanced at the large golden hamster on his shoulder, seeing his nod of approval. “Fuhaha! Then it’s decided! Now..let us see what this message entails.”

With a hum, he unfolded the note and read it thoroughly, gawking about halfway through it.

“...wh-what...this...is this...a-a proclamation of love?!” He tugged his scarf over his blushing face. “But..who could love such a....ah..” Then he reached the bottom of the note and saw it was none other than-

“[Y/n], but of course. There’s...a certain aura to them that..I can’t help but feel enchanted by,” he muttered to himself. “But I shall harden my heart until I know this proclamation is true, lest I turn out to be a blind fool..”

With that declaration, he got up and summoned the Dark Devas to his side, before venturing out of his cottage, clutching the note tightly.

............

Kazuichi

“AH!! I’VE BEEN AMBUSHED!!”

The scream made you stop in your tracks as you looked back, seeing the door fly open and a certain mechanic come rushing out.

“[Y/n]! Thank god you’re here!” His hands flew onto your shoulders. “I got hit by an object!! I-I think someone was tryna kill me!!”

‘Oh boy..’ You thought, realizing that your plan didn’t go accordingly. “Well, did you see what the object was?”

“N-No...but...what does it matter?!!”

“.....wouldn’t it help to find out what it was if you’re convinced it was attempted murder?”

“..that’s true. C’mon. I don’t wanna go back alone.” Kazuichi dragged you into his cottage, making sure he locked the door once inside. “It came through that window, hitting me in the back of the head....damn it. I just wanted fresh air and I can’t even get that!” Then he shut the window with a huff.

“Was it this?”

Looking back, he saw the paper airplane in your hand. “Yeah-!! Wait...a paper airplane? Seriously? That’s what attacked me?”

“I sent this.”

“...so YOU attacked me?!”

“I didn’t mean to!” You snapped, causing him to fall silent, before you unfolded it and handed it to him. “It’s a letter...for you. It’s got nothing to do with murder, I promise.”

He cautiously took the paper and read it, mumbling to himself. By the time he was done, his face became red. “[Y/n]...is this true?” He looked up at you with a toothy grin and stars in his eyes. “You like me??!!”

“Yeah..” You smiled back. “Though I was hesitant to send it since, y’know....you had eyes on Sonia-”

“Oh! Don’t worry, I only admire Miss Sonia from afar!” He explained. “As the princess she is, I only wanna respect and defend her. Nothing more! I-I’ve honestly...liked you for a while too. My bad for not reading this sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled. “At least I have my answer.”

...............

Fuyuhiko

“Sheesh, try not to poke my other eye out next time, okay?”

“Wh-Wha..” You spun around to see the Ultimate Yakuza, realizing he was clutching the note--that was once a paper airplane--in his hand. “Sorry, Fuyu..I had no idea where it would land so I uh...booked it. Kinda. How did you know-?”

“Saw you taking off before this even got into my room,” he explained. “I still got one good eye to keep a lookout for things.”

“..ah, I see..” You rubbed your neck awkwardly. “So um...you must’ve read it.”

“It’s laughably cliche, but...I...uh...d-do feel the same way as you..” Fuyuhiko mumbled the last part, but you could hear his confession clear as day, and your eyes lit up.

“R-Really? I mean...I...I wasn’t sure, since I know you’re still trying to move on from-”

“It’s okay.” He sighed, looking back at you. “It..hasn’t been easy, but..you were the first to forgive me after that trial. Even though...I acted like a total shithead to you when we first got here. Still feel kinda bad about it..”

Your racing heart eventually calmed itself, as you smiled gently and approached him. “It’s okay. If..you wanna make up for it, maybe we can..uh..hang out at the movie theater sometime today?”

“Tch, like a first date?” He chuckled. “Alright. I’m in.”

............

Nekomaru

“[Y/N]!!”

The booming voice made you nearly slam the mailbox door on your hand. You had a habit of checking it mornings and nights.

You whirled around to see Nekomaru rush over to you, a wide grin on his face as he clutched a certain note in his large hand. “I have received your confession letter and accept it wholeheartedly!!”

“R-Really?” You gawked. “Just like that..?”

“Of course!” He laughed. “Your method of delivery is unique! Very old-school. And clearly you’ve put all of your heart and soul into this letter. If I were to ever reject that hard work, my name wouldn’t be-!!”

“Nekomaru Nidai?” You chuckled, feeling calmer now that he was serious.

“See? You already know me better than I know myself!” The Ultimate Team Manager grinned as he hugged you to his chest. “Can you hear that? My heart is beating with great spirit and love!!”

“Yeah, I definitely hear it loud and clear.” Smiling, you hugged him back, happier than ever.

...............

Twogami

When Byakuya found a paper airplane on his desk, he didn’t know what to think at first.

This was childish at best--sneakily throwing it through the window and then taking off? If one of the others wanted to talk to him about something, then they should’ve just rang the doorbell.

Surely he wasn’t that intimidating of a leader...even if some didn’t like it.

But curiosity eventually won over everything else, and so he took the paper, realizing there was a message on it. “Hmm, very strange..” He hummed, opening it to read what it said.

And he swore his heart stopped, realizing this was a confession and the sender was....you?

Did you really think of him that way? Even though..he hasn’t fully told you the truth about his Ultimate?

And if he did, would you still send him something like this?

.............

Hajime

Hajime didn’t know why he woke up earlier before the morning announcement--until he noticed something right next to his face. “Huh..? What’s this?”

Sitting upright, he picked up the object. “Oh, a paper airplane. Haven’t seen one of these in forever.”

With a small chuckle, he unfolded it, having noticed letters on the inside of it--and also a red heart, oddly enough. He read the message written and...his heart began racing as he realized this was a love letter.

Even though he had his suspicions, he couldn’t believe someone on this island would love a talent-less person like himself.

Why?

As he read the sender’s name, Hajime jumped as he heard a knock on his door. He quickly stuffed the note under his pillow before going to answer it--seeing you on the other side.

“A-Ah..[y/n]..hi. Thank you for knocking..” He tried to play it cool, tugging on his shirt collar awkwardly, though you just smiled.

“I take it you read it already?”

“What? Oh! Uh..yeah..” The poor boy’s face grew redder by the second.

“I thought the paper airplane idea was too childish, so...I figured I’d come here and confess myself. But...seems I’m a little too late for that.” You chuckled nervously. “So....?”

“I-I don’t know what to say..” He admitted. “Why me? I’m the most ordinary out of everyone here.”

“Oh. Hajime.” With a small laugh, you took his hand into yours. “Because it’s you that I feel happiest around..all those times we’ve spent together..meant a lot. I had fun and I’d like to do more of them with you.”

“A-As..your boyfriend you mean?” Hajime gulped, smiling as he tried retaining his composure. “Sure. I’d..love to do that.”

............

Nagito

“Heh..I never would’ve guessed a nobody like me was at the center of someone’s heart..”

“Uh, I’m right here, Nagito.”

“Oh I know.” The white-haired male chuckled as he spun around on his heel, facing you. He looked down at the love letter you had cleverly disguised as a paper airplane. “But..come to think of it..Mikan’s words had me a bit...crushed..”

You tilted your head, remembering the third trial. “You mean, when she said-?”

“That I had nobody who loved me? Well, it seems she was wrong about that.” His smile seemed to stretch wider as he put the letter in his pocket. “I guess I can’t call myself a stepping stone anymore..now that I have a new purpose--one that fills me with a much greater hope!” He wheezed out a small laugh.

While his laughter usually unnerved the other students, you could only smile and feel your heart grow warmer whenever you heard it.

“Yes, yes..perhaps this was the love she was talking about.” Nagito put a hand to his chest. “But this love wasn’t born from despair.”

“Nah, that’s just a twisted sense of love.” You reached out to take his other hand into yours, bringing him slightly closer to you. “This is real, genuine love.”

His face became a bit flushed, though it wasn’t from the despair disease, but from the simple realization that..

He was lucky enough to be loved.

..........

Izuru

“So, instead of talking to me, you sent this.”

“Oh!” You turned around to see the “Ultimate Hope” standing before. There was an open note in his hand that you tried to deliver to his room in the form of a paper airplane.

The keyword is “tried”, as he was quick to call out to you before you had the chance to run away. So you felt embarrassed, especially as he skimmed over your letter.

After a long and awkward silence, Izuru finally looked up at you. His face remained blank, though you could tell he was curious about your message.

“Yep, that’s my uh..confession.” With a sigh, you approached him calmly. “I know..love is something foreign to you, but...I figured I’d take my chances. Even if the world’s gone to shit, I had to at least get this off my chest. And before you ask...no, it’s not because of your talents.”

“....I see.” He muttered, his gaze returning to the letter. “You understand what I am and what I’ve done, and yet...huh...?” Then he put a hand to his chest, stunned for a moment as he felt his heartbeat slightly quicken.

Wait..

His heart?

What was happening to him?

What is this?

“Huh, they might’ve suppressed your old feelings. But..not all of them, it seems.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that exactly.

This was something he definitely couldn’t have predicted.

#clanask #anonymous #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 #teruteru hanamura #gundham tanaka #kazuichi soda #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #nekomaru nidai #byakuya twogami #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #izuru kamukura #one word prompt #fluff

501 notes · View notes

dottie-wan-kenobi · 3 years

Text

shines so sincere; an ace!Lily fic

available on ao3 under the same name, warning for internalized acephobia. 3k.

---

Lily sat sideways on the bench, poised to stand, biting her lip. Her eyes were on James, who sat just down the table from her, his eternally messy hair made even worse from having just rolled out of bed, so late he nearly missed breakfast. He was getting better about being responsible in all walks of his life—she’d caught him studying, Merlin forbid, and knew from their work together as Head Boy and Girl that he took his job seriously—but apparently getting up on time was just too difficult.

Not that she could blame him. She hadn’t wanted to get out of bed this morning either. At least she had a reason, which was the same one she had for being nervous now.

She’d always known that James fancied her, couldn’t avoid the truth of it after all of his pathetic attempts back in fifth year to win her over. And while she no longer felt the embarrassed anger she did then, it was the same: there was no avoiding that James had feelings for her. She didn’t want to avoid it, really, not anymore. In fact, recently she’d started to reciprocate a tiny bit, her heartbeat fluttering when he smiled at her, her palms sweating when he asked her to accompany him places (as a friend, he always specified, a self-conscious little smile on his face). The conversations they had were too often aimless, bouncing from topic to topic, eliciting spirited debates that left her heart and mind in a tizzy.

It wasn’t an issue, fancying James. She found herself enjoying it more and more, the way he made her feel, the way he looked at her. At night, she found herself imagining dates with him, real ones, and sometimes there were torturous ideas of a future they could have together as adults, as partners. Her feelings for him were different from how they used to be, no longer annoyed or reluctantly amused, but uplifting and fulfilling, they were fun and bright and silly, they were—

Nerve-wracking. Because there was something Lily hadn’t told James—hadn’t told almost anyone—that, she knew, would throw a spanner in any possible relationship they might have.

She stood, then, knowing she needed to get it over with, to rip the plaster off and—and hope for the best. Last night, it wasn’t dreams of a future with him that kept her up, but the fear of his reaction. He wasn’t a bigot. He supported his friends, he never hurled slurs. Everyone knew his mother’s sister was married to another witch. Whatever happened, she knew—took comfort in the fact—that he would be kind about it, that she would probably (hopefully) not lose his friendship. But it was still terrifying, the unknown effect all of this could have.

He looked up as she approached, his smile widening, the lines around his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. He raised his glass as if in a toast, and asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Evans?”

Ignoring the curious looks of his friends, she said, “Actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about. In private.”

That didn’t sound too bad, did it? Not necessarily personal. It could’ve been about Head Student responsibilities. It could’ve been about anything.

But of course, he could tell it wasn’t. Taking one last bite, he studied her face. She didn’t dare look away, knowing he’d see the tell for what it was, but meeting his gaze wasn’t any better. James Potter could read people like books. He could read her like a book. Especially lately, as they became closer, he’d been able to tell all too easily when she was upset. Standing, he asked lowly, no joking in his voice, “You alright?”

Just peachy. Her stomach was twisting anxiously, heat lurking in the back of her eyes, and she was certain that he was going to end up saying, Thanks but no thanks. She said, “Yes, fine. Can we go?”

She hardly waited for him to reply, unable to stand the probing looks from all four of them anymore. Escaping the Great Hall, Lily found the nearest empty classroom she knew of, not speaking. Her breath shivered out of her lungs as she tried, once again, to tell herself everything would be fine.

The sound of James’s breathing and his shoes on the stone flooring was all she needed to know he was with her. Once they were both inside, she shut and locked the door, then cast a muffliato. It wouldn’t be enough to keep his sneaky friends out, but she immediately felt better with a barrier between her and James, and the rest of the school.

Turning, she found James leaning against a table, looking right at her. He had his concerned face on—his mouth was pulled down, his eyes sharp—and his shoulders were deceptively relaxed, his hands resting on the edge like he might launch himself off it at any moment.

She wasn’t sure if he was trying to seem harmless or not, but if he was, he was failing. Under his attentions, she felt utterly see-through. Clutching her arms against her stomach, she found there was nothing she could do to protect this vulnerable spot of herself.

He won’t hurt you, she reminded herself. His friends, his aunt, never saying any slurs. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Not on purpose, another part whispered. But he still could.

“Okay, I can tell something’s wrong,” he said, cutting through her thoughts. “Did something happen? Are you alright? Who do I need to go curse?”

All night long, she’d thought about what she would say. Nothing had felt right. She’d thought, stupidly, that the words would come to her in the moment, that looking at him and his soft melty gaze would be enough. There were no words magically popping into her head, no ideas of how to broach this with him. And of course he was getting all protective and jumping to conclusions.

Lily approached him, though she didn’t lean on any of the tables herself. She needed to move, she needed to have some space while she did this. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said finally, hoping it was the truth. “Nobody did anything, and I already said I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you something important. It’s, uh—I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all,” she said under her breath.

James didn’t look convinced. But still, faced with someone he cared about who was panicking, he softened. He didn’t reach out to her—he knew she should be the one to initiate right now—but leaned his head forward a little, trying to catch her eye. “Hey, that’s alright,” he said soothingly. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I promise you.”

For some reason, she said, “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Trust me, unless you’re about to say you’re secretly a Death Eater right now, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Lily scoffed, revolting against the very idea. But she didn’t linger on the indignation she felt—it was distracting, and too… passionate, she supposed. Too far in the opposite direction. She needed to focus, didn’t want to think about something else, not when this was so delicate. “I would never. It’s not that. It’s…” She didn’t know a better way to do this, and time was starting to run out. He wouldn’t sit there all day waiting for her to find the perfect way to— “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

His mouth dropped open, but otherwise, he was frozen, staring at her with wide eyes.

Not giving him a moment to let that settle in—no matter how much she wanted to—she plowed on ahead. “Except that there’s something… not wrong with me, it’s not a bad thing, it’s just—well. I don’t want to have sex with you. I don’t want to have sex with anyone. I don’t have… I’m not….”

She had no words for it. There was no easy way to explain that she liked to get herself off just fine, but when she and her ex-girlfriend had tried to have sex, she’d felt… bored and uncomfortable. There’d been cerebral sparks between them, and kissing had been great, but sex was a different story—there was nothing there. Every time they tried, she just felt lost and confused, unsure why anyone would want to experience it. And the more in her head she got about it, the worse it felt, her skin beginning to itch in an altogether unpleasant way. She’d wondered if she was the only person in the world who felt like that, if maybe she was trying with the wrong person, if she was even into girls at all.

The only answer she had was for that last one, and it was a resounding yes. But doubts still creeped in the back of her mind about all of it, anxious thoughts about what it meant that she didn’t like sex, questions about—was it just that she didn’t like sex, or that she didn’t want it, or something else? Was there even any difference there? What did it mean for her future—would she end up alone like Petunia always teased her about?

And what did it mean that she could enjoy her time alone, but once someone else touched her, the warmth in her stomach shriveled and disappeared?

She kept telling herself she wasn’t broken, but she wasn’t sure if she believed it or not. The old adage “fake it until you make it” wasn’t working as well as it usually did.

Stupid tears filled her eyes as he sat, still frozen, probably trying to figure out what the bloody hell she was even talking about enough to reject her. She was so good at hiding her emotions with everything but this. There was no one to talk to, no place to vent, and the few times she’d ever talked about it with anyone, she’d cried. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, but he wasn’t saying anything, he was just staring at her, and she didn’t know what it meant!

“I understand,” she said, voice thick with held back emotion, “if you don’t want to have to deal with that. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, and I hope we can still be friends.”

He blinked at her, and it was then she realized that—no, he probably didn’t want to be friends. He was probably still in love with her, and now she’d just gone and ruined it, maybe even broke his heart. She wouldn’t want to be friends with him either if the situation were reversed—wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him after a rejection like this. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to anyway. Their prefect patrols and Head Student meetings were going to be miserable, weren’t they? Both of them pretending their hearts weren’t shattered because she just couldn’t make herself—

Still, she tried to retain some dignity. Holding her head up, she nodded solemnly and didn’t say a word as she turned to the door.

She was going to leave, and she wasn’t going to cry until she was safely tucked in her bed in Gryffindor Tower, where James and his stupid brilliant everything couldn’t find her.

“Wha—Lily,” James suddenly said, startling out of his stupor and reaching for her arm. He turned her back around gently, his eyes searching her face. “Wait. Wait, please. You just dropped two bombardas on me, I need a second to—you’re falling in love with me? Really?”

His eyes shone happily, his smile reappearing. She nodded, unable to speak around the frog in her throat. Yes, she was falling for him. It felt inevitable, right down to the marrow of her bones, like sinking into a warm hug. But the issue about sex was holding her—them—back. She wished, not for the first time, that she could be more normal.

It wasn’t often she let herself entertain the idea, knowing it did nothing but hurt in the end. Maybe she would be different in the future, but what was important was now, and right now? There was no changing who she was. If that meant not being normal, then… well, it was just another way in which she was a freak.

Looking up into his smile, she hoped he realized that. If he was about to say he could fix her or change her, it would break her heart. But he wasn’t like that, or at least she really hoped not.

“Lily,” he said, a simple word carrying the weight of several years of emotion. “That’s—I’m so happy to—I love y—wait, I should talk about the other thing first, I think.”

Lily closed her eyes. This was awful. Maybe she should’ve just pretended, should’ve told him she’s falling for him and left out not-interested-in-sex part. How could she go on after hearing that cut off declaration? How could she go on hearing him say it to Sirius every day, or Merlin forbid, another girl?

“Hey,” he said, coaxing and soft. “Hey, listen. You don’t need to be sorry for that. Okay? You don’t ever need to be sorry for who you are.”

“Unless you’re a Death Eater,” she said, daring to peek at him. His nose was twitching slightly, the way it always did when he something shocked him. She’d seen it a lot, after several revenge pranks over the years. But more importantly, he didn’t look upset, or disgusted. That sappy, melty, sweet gleam shone in his eyes, and his smile was lopsided but gentle, no sharpness to it at all.

“Yeah,” he agreed solemnly. “Or a bigoted arsehole. But this? No. Not at all, not ever. I—“

Suddenly, a strong need to make it all clear to him gripped her, and though it was the last thing she wanted, to be rejected by him, she urged, “You understand, don’t you? If we date, if we become boyfriend and girlfriend, you won’t… I won’t… there will be no sex. I can’t promise you anything like that.”

Maybe it would have been easier to pretend, to lie. But she knew he would want to know. Flashes of what could’ve happened if she did hit her then—having sex with him, struggling to hide how it made her feel, and James eventually finding out, hurt and angry that she’d kept something so—so important from him.

It was best she laid all the cards down now, before they could get any more tangled together. So that he could extricate himself before it was too late.

He hummed thoughtfully. Though he was looking at her, he seemed lost in thought, and she hoped he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “Would—wait, can I ask questions? You can say no, it’s okay.”

Questions. The word made her stomach cramp with nerves, but still, she nodded.

“Thank you,” he smiled, coming back to her and shifting on his heels. “I’m mostly wondering what your limits are. Would you want to snog at all?”

“Snogging’s okay. I like that part. It’s just once it starts, uh… going beyond that,” she fumbled, “that’s uncomfortable for me.”

His hand twitched like he wanted to reach out, and she could picture the way he would comfort his friends, a soothing hand, a lifeline she sorely wanted in that moment. “Okay. Listen, Lily, I… I’m just gonna be honest, okay? I’m in love with you. And up until like, fifteen minutes ago, I thought you’d never return those feelings. I want to be with you, in any shape or form that might take. Friends, dating, whatever. As long as we’re together, I’m happy. I want you to be happy too.

“If we date, and we don’t shag, not even once, then that’s okay. I’m never going to pressure you, or expect anything from you that you don’t want to give, not like that. I am glad you want to kiss,” he said, giving an exaggeratedly relieved sigh, and she giggled despite herself. “But, really. I love you. I love all of you, Lily. I’m probably going to have to like, study this stuff so I don’t say anything stupid or do the wrong thing, but I can handle that just fi— “

“James,” she said, interrupting him finally. Her heart was racing. This all felt like a dream, some fantasy where he was perfect and she got everything she ever wanted. All of his words, the feelings and meaning behind them, were hitting her at once. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

All she could think, over and over again, was How is he real?

“Can I hug you?” He asked after a few moments. His hands were twitching again.

“Please,” Lily replied, opening her arms for him. They fell against each other within seconds, and he was warm and stable and still there, right there with her. He knew about her and he loved her—not despite it, not anyway, he just loved her. He loved every part of her. Heart beat in her throat now, tears pricking her eyes, she asked against his chest, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

His hand caressed her back, up and down, up and down over the fabric of her sweater. The touch soothed something inside of her, the terrified and vulnerable shivers clenching in her head and chest finally easing, and she melted into it. “Don’t be silly,” he said. She could hear the beam in his voice, his own racing heart under her ear. “Of course I will. Girlfriend.”

A little hesitantly, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That okay?” He murmured.

She pulled away enough to meet his eyes. Merlin. Somehow, in all her panic, she hadn’t let herself dream of this becoming a reality. He was beautiful and amazing and she knew it wouldn’t be long before there was no turning back. Not long at all. “Don’t be silly,” she repeated him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Of course it is. Boyfriend.”

---

Reblogs are much appreciated! <333

#jily #james x lily #lily x james #lily evans potter #james potter #hp #hp fanfic #hp fic #my writing #ace lily evans #ace lily evans potter #asexuality

30 notes · View notes

iworshipkeanureeves · 4 years

Text

Red Circle

John Wick x Reader

Summary: One week after meeting John at a night club Y/N shares a very unexpected first date with him.

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of shooting.

Words: 2K

Request: by @bvbwestfall

The reader first meets john at the red circle ( night club ), it’s her first time in New York and she first time going to a night club and she sees he’s hurt after the shooting and he's walking out and she tries to help him but he doesn't pay attention to her and later they meet and she asks how he is and he's confused and so she tells him that she tried to help him a few days, weeks ago or whatever?

It was her first night in New York, first time leaving her small hometown on her own; she finally felt freed. No one knew her, no one controlled her, Y/N was all by herself, ready to begin her new life.

Surrounded by the flashing lights, Y/N was downing her third cocktail in need of more confidence before hitting the dance floor. All she wanted tonight was to let go and dance until her feet could barely keep her up, to meet new people and just simply enjoy the night.

Grooving to the beat, Y/N was looking around, staring at neon faces and searching for someone she would fancy dancing with. Several men had tried getting with her, all of whom she had to push away grossed out by their overly nasty straightforwardness.

The night was beginning to get really disappointing, and Y/N felt lonelier with every song. Taking a look around, she noticed she had nothing in common with these people, the club began to feel atrocious, in fact. Maybe it was the alcohol wearing off, but the music was like knives piercing through her ears and she suddenly felt short of air.

Y/N was on her way to leave, pushing the crowd out of her way, when her eyes caught a mysterious tall guy leaning against the wall with his hand firmly pressed to his side. Y/N wasn’t sure maybe he had a little too much to drink, or maybe it was the lights messing up with his head, but as soon as she saw his white shirt getting drenched in deep red, she knew the man needed help.

She couldn’t see whether he was in pain. He didn’t seem like he was, but the stain getting more prominent on his shirt was telling else.

The man seemed dangerous and Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to get involved. Everyone had been warning her that New York could be vicious and she had to protect herself first. Her kind heart was suggesting otherwise.

When she saw the man moving rather fast, she figured he could be in shock. She thought he was probably disoriented, failing to understand what was going on.

Ignoring the burn in her feet, Y/N ran after, trying to catch the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you need help?” She inquired rather boldly, tapping on his shoulder, grabbing his wrist and trying to stall his steps.

The man was much stronger though, dragging Y/N behind him, wondering why she was so persistent and unwilling to let go.

“I’m fine.” Y/N heard a raspy voice, as the stranger stopped and turned around to face her. His words were stoic, but eyes however, seemed full of rage. They were dark, making Y/N feel as if she was staring into abyss; she could find no light escaping them. Those eyes were scary, but captivating too.

She was looking up, trying to read the man’s face, but he seemed stone cold, not a single sign of pain or concern. “Sir, I think we should get you an ambulance. You’re bleeding. Maybe you’re in shock, I don’t know but-“

“I said I’m fine.” He cut Y/N off rather strictly this time, moving her clenched palm away from around his wrist.

“But-“ She stuttered, feeling his hefty hands landing on her shoulders, as he was leaning closer to her.

“You have to leave this place. Now.” He commanded, staring into Y/N’s eyes, trying to make her understand. He was extremely convincing, and all Y/N gave him was a speechless nod before disappearing into the street.

---

Today it is exactly a week after Y/N’s encounter at the Red Circle club. Not a day has passed without her remembering the mysterious man, the one who actually saved her life that night.

Moments after leaving, Y/N heard horrible screams coming from inside the club, and soon the police sirens appeared. She was lucky enough to avoid a dreadful shooting that time, but she ended up with a foolish crush constantly nagging her mind.

For the whole week Y/N has been trying to keep herself busy decorating her new home, attending job interviews and reading books. Most of what she does these days is to steer her mind away from shooting at the club and the man that Y/N can’t forget. She has even taken up exercising, hoping it would help. Nonetheless, whatever she does, wherever she goes, all Y/N can think of is those fatal eyes staring at her and his tight grip lingering on her shoulders.

Now, like every evening for the past week Y/N is going for a quick jog in the park. It is later than usual for her, but the sun is still up, making her feel secure enough.

She is taking her favorite route today, which covers majority of the park and leads to a pond with swans swimming in pairs. Y/N has already reached her goal and is running home. Her steps are in sync with her favorite beat and she’s pushing herself hard today.

Her gaze casually lands on a man walking his dog, wearing jeans and a white top. She watches him from behind, something about him reminds Y/N of that one she met at the Red Circle club; it’s the hair, maybe his bulky frame.

She wishes it was him, but in no world a man like that would be casually walking his dog in a sunset, Y/N thinks. Still, she is running and she knows she can pass him quickly to take a peek at his face.

Y/N doesn’t want to appear creepy, so she keeps a safe distance as she runs past the man, slightly turning her head to make sure it is not the one from the club.

But it is.

And now, left with this information, Y/N has no idea what to do next.

She knows she’s all sweaty, her face is probably tomato red and her hair is messed up. Nonetheless, here walks a man she couldn’t get out of her head ever since she met him. The man she might never have a chance to meet again; it feels like now or never. Really, what does she have to lose?

“Good evening, sir.” She walks to him, all breathy, and God knows maybe even a little smelly too.

“Evening.” The man politely replies. There’s warmth in his eyes, they are amber now, reflecting the setting sun. But that is the same man. Y/N is sure of that.

“How is your-?“ She points to his stomach where his wound should be, causing a suspicious frown.

“Who hired you?” The stranger becomes dead serious; his muscles tense, and Y/N feels like the man is ready to fight her any second now.

“What do you mean?” She laughs.

Y/N is a little confused, failing to understand what his question meant. “I’m unemployed. I came to New York only a week ago.” She explains, managing to soften his stern face.

Even a slight shade of blush colors the stranger’s cheeks, as he realizes that Y/N is the girl, who tried to help him on the shooting night. She is not a threat; the man has to remind himself.

“You don’t seem too friendly,” she points out, giving him a teasing smile. Y/N believes the man didn’t mean to be rude with her, but she suspects he must be involved in some dangerous business and these are probably his trust issues that she is dealing with here.

“I’m careful.” The man confirms Y/N’s thoughts. He’s still serious, looking strong and tough, but Y/N finds it cute how he kneels down to praise the dog, taking the tennis ball away from the fangs.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” Y/N insists, watching the man making another throw.

“John.” He remains brief with his words.

“John? Doesn’t sound like your real name.” Y/N giggles, teasing him even more. She sees there is a true person hiding inside this rugged frame, and she takes on a challenge to get to him.

“Huh?”

“Too generic for a guy like you,” Y/N continues, adorably chuckling, walking side by side with him.

John doesn’t seem to oppose Y/N following him, but he remains silent. He still communicates, even if he uses no words; Y/N believes she hasn’t seen a frown or an arched brow to have as much expression as his does.

“So you really don’t remember me, huh?” She keeps playfully bothering him. “That’s a little hurtful…”

Suddenly John stops, taking a deep look into Y/N’s eyes. “You really don’t want a guy like me to remember you,” he says, and proceeds to walk faster than her.

“Wow so serious.” She teases again in a mocking tone. “What does it even mean ‘a guy like you’?”

“A guy like me is someone you should stay far away from. You’d be better off this way.” He’s direct and maybe even a little strict, but that doesn’t scare Y/N off. In fact, it only intrigues her more.

Y/N feels sort of strange going after a guy, as she is used to things being other way around, but she can’t resist; she is compelled by him, thinking of ways to entice the man.

“Maybe I should decide that myself? When you ask me on a date.” She chooses a slightly pushy approach, halting their promenade, and making John look at her with an extremely confused gaze.

“I don’t do dates.” He is concise again.

“Just one?” Y/N smirks, causing John to sigh. She sees she can break him, she just needs a little more time.

“I’m a busy man, I don’t have time for dates,” John explains kindly, preparing a leash to take the dog home.

“Okay…” They exchange apologetic smiles, which hold the meaning of a sad goodbye. Slowly, John turns around and begins to walk away

But Y/N can’t give up just yet. She decides to take one last try and starts rushing after them.

“What are you doing?” John smiles; he keeps walking, but his steps slow down.

“I’m squeezing our date into your tight schedule,” Y/N looks at him. She is waiting for any sign of affirmation, and surprisingly John smiles again. Two in a row, what an achievement, she is proud of herself. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” she shakes John’s hand. It’s huge, she notices; and very firm.

“Is it too late for coffee?” John asks.

“Yes, but for hot chocolate, it’s never too late!” Y/N gets excited. She can’t believe this is happening for real.

John hands her the leash and commands the dog to sit. Those puppy eyes are hard to resist, and Y/N kneels to scratch the dog behind the ears. She pets him for a while, while John is taking care of drinks.

“I think he likes me,” Y/N grins, welcoming John holding two cups in his sturdy hands.

“You’re easy to like,” he smirks.

They walk for a while, talking about random things, nothing too much. It’s mostly Y/N speaking, of course. But John is more than glad to listen to her. He enjoys getting to know Y/N, to learn how she has recently moved to New York, her ideas about decorating her new home, what pets she would love to have and galleries she would like to visit in town.

They wander around, Y/N is happily walking the dog, but the sun is almost down, and Y/N knows she should better be going home soon.

“So what is it that you do?” She finally asks before preparing to say her goodbye. She doesn’t really expect for John to give an honest answer, but she can suspect what he does. She thinks she has already seen him at work. It was that night at the Red Circle club.

“It’s not exactly the first date material,” John sighs, it’s like something heavy falls onto his chest.

“Then you can tell me on the second one. Same time next week?” Y/N knows it’s a bold move, but so far it has been working perfectly fine for her.

And it does again, as she sees John smiling, taking the leash back from her hand. “At the same coffee stand. I’ll see you then. Good night.”

Tag-list: @keandrews @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @greenmanalishi @lilywoood (message me to be added or removed)

>Masterlist<

#John Wick #John Wick fanfiction #John Wick oneshot #John Wick fic #John Wick imagine #John Wick fanfic #Request #John Wick x reader #John Wick x Y/N #tw:blood #tw: shooting

149 notes · View notes

doof-doofblog · 3 years

Text

"Another Time, Yeah?"

Tuesday 15th June 2021

(Part One & Part Two)

Hello again everyone, as promised I'm back with another post - 3 blog posts from me this week, that's more than I did last week!! But anyway I'm going to review everything from Tuesday's episodes in this post.

So without further ado, I'm going to begin with mentioning Ruby. The day after her second miscarriage, Martin is surprised to learn that once again she has every intention of going to work and forgetting about the events that have occurred. Martin tries his best to convince his wife to rest for the rest of the day but as Ruby tries to explain her reasons for wanting to go to work, she notices the screen on Martin's laptop, it shows that he's been looking up options for IVF.

Understandably, Martin is trying to help in any way he can to make sure he and his wife have they family they've been longing for. However Ruby makes the valid point that it's not the getting pregnant that's the problem, it's being able to stay pregnant. Martin tries to explain that if they really want to have a family they can consider other options available, but Ruby then drops the bombshell that after everything she's gone through she really can't bring herself to go through any more trauma and loss. She informs Martin that instead of trying to fight to have a family, she's going to embrace the family she already has.

However, later Ruby is seen alone, visiting the memorial that she and Martin created for their lost baby, she gently adds another stone to commemorate the second baby she has lost. As the camera spins we see that just across the patch of grass, Jean is sat on her own but as she turns around and notices Ruby, she joins her. Jean realises exactly what's happening and speaks softly to her. Informing Jean about the decision to not try for another baby and to accept the family she has, Jean makes a very touching statement - "You know what I see? I don't see a woman who's given up, I see a woman who's grieving, and I believe there's still a lot of fight in you!" - as beautiful as those words are, it completely hits Ruby to the core and she softly begins to cry, such a moving moment.

The next thing I'm going to mention is Tiffany and Keegan. It's the day of their photoshoot and Tiffany is completely excited about the press and media attention. Wanting to get her name out there also, she informs Keegan that she's come up with a name for their joint business - Something along the lines of "ButcherBakerBeauty-Baps?" ... (I'm sure they'll come up with a better name eventually!) Suddenly when Tiffany sees herself in the mirror she's horrified to see that the day of their photoshoot she been graced with a spot on her chin, frantically she begins to flap, claiming that she needs to look good for their photoshoot - I have to be honest the main thought that was entering my mind at this point was "The photoshoot isn't even meant to be hers so why is she making such a fuss?" - without meaning to be mean, but I don't know I guess it just didn't sit right with me, she shouldn't be focusing on her and should be supporting her husband instead.

As Tiffany calls her friend in desperate need of some assistance, it seems that her friend manages to get someone round to do Tiffany's make-up. However when Tiffany compliments the stylist's skin, the lady informs her that she does cheat by using injections such as Botox and fillers. Realising that injecting herself with something could change her appearance to the way she wants, Tiffany urges the beautician to use the injections on her for her photoshoot - even though the beautician warns her it can be very pricey! Again, I have to be honest - as soon as I realised that Tiffany was going to ask for injections my mind just went racing - how much do you want to bet that Tiffany is going to become addicted to beauty injections?! It could be a possible new storyline for her which could end with serious consequences?

Even though she is thrilled with the end results, Tiffany is shocked to see the price she has to pay for the treatment and asks whether she can pay half now and pay the rest within in the next couple of days. Later as Keegan and Tiffany are enjoying the photoshoot - the photographer is keen on focusing on Keegan and asking him questions about his business. But when Keegan tries to turn their attention to Tiffany so she can promote her business/brand - you can see that the photographer is the least bit interested.

The next day, as everyone is gushing about the article in the newspaper about Keegan, Tiffany buys herself a newspaper hoping to see a whole page spread of herself and her husband in the newspaper. But she is visibly devastated when she realises that she hasn't even been mentioned and the whole article is about Keegan and his business. She later voices her annoyance and devastation to her friend Chloe, claiming that she has spent a fortune on injections for nothing! But worse still, how is her husband going to react when he finds out she's spending money on things she doesn't need!

Chloe then suggests that in a way to make as much money as she can so Keegan won't suspect anything is for her to flog diet pills. She claims she doesn't know how they work and has never used them but manages to sell them and get decent enough money for doing so. For a split moment I had hoped that Tiffany would know better than to sell some dodgy diet pills, but it looks as though she is very tempted. Later when she meets up with Bernie, she confides in her friend about the money she has spent on fillers to make herself look good for the photoshoot.

Of course Bernie is sympathetic towards her friends, but then suddenly Tiffany starts rummaging in her bag for something and empties out the contents of her bag, quickly Bernie notices the tubs of diet pills she's in possession of and asks where she got them from and whether they work, it's then that Bernie drops the bombshell that she needs to lose weight quickly, and Tiffany is a bit surprised by her choice of words, asking why "Quickly". It's then that finally Bernie feel able to tell someone about her plans and informs Tiffany that she's agreed to be Rainie and Stuart's surrogate, much to her best friend's shock. Tiffany warns Bernie to be careful where Rainie and Stuart are concerned because when she offered to be their surrogate she recalled that they didn't leave her alone. But Bernie is adamant that she needs the money for her family and claims that her Mum believes that she'll be getting a bonus from the call centre. Eventually she practically begs Tiff to allow her to use the diet pills, she claims she can be her guinea pig in a way and will pay her once she's made her money from the surrogacy. Tiffany looks really reluctant to do so but makes Bernie promise that she'll read the instructions before taking them.

Honestly, I fear this is going to be a massive downward spiral for the both of them. Tiffany getting hooked on beauty injections and then Bernadette getting addicted to diet pills and both making themselves ill. What do you guys think?! I'm really intrigued to hear your thoughts on this one!

Elsewhere on the Square, Shirley is still reeling about the news of Linda's pregnancy, she still can't understand why she wasn't told much earlier on when she arrived back in Walford. She admits to Nancy and Frankie that she feels as though her family are shutting her out. I have to say though I loved the banter between the three of them in this scene. Nancy tries to swerve the conversation from her parents sex life to Shirley's own love life and happens to point out that she hasn't been with anyone since Buster!!!

Oh my goodness, do you guys remember Buster??? It was proven that he was in fact Mick's biological Dad, which makes him Nancy and Frankie's Grandad. Hearing that Frankie has a Grandad seemed to excite the girl, but she and Nancy still continue to make fun of Shirley - claiming that for her next birthday they're going to buy her a pair of slippers and a throw as they claim it's time for her to hang up her knee-high leather boots. I do love the jip that Shirley snaps back at them, it makes the whole scene much more comical and the dynamic between them all is just brilliant!

It's then they Frankie points to Terry sat on his own and urges Shirley to ask him for a drink, at first Shirley shows no interest but after being goaded by her Granddaughters, she eventually gets the courage to approach Terry and (in not so many words) informs him that he will be buying her a drink. The one thing that completely confused me though was that Terry called himself by the name "Rocky" as he introduced himself to Shirley, can anyone explain to me why? His name is Terry right? I don't understand where the "Rocky" came from? - Unless it's similar to Callum's name - Callum "Halfway" Highway?!

Meanwhile, as Terry agrees to have a quick drink with Shirley, Sonia is at home prepping a lovely roast dinner meal for herself and her Dad to celebrate and early Father's Day. But back in the pub, as Shirley and Terry begin to chat and get to know each other, Nancy and Frankie keep showering them with drinks. As the sisters notice that they appear to be getting on, Nancy places down another drink in front of them claiming it's on the house, while Frankie sneakily changes the time on the clock.

Terry is adamant he can only stay until 1pm as he has a lunch date with Sonia, but as he looks at clock to see he still has plenty of time, he continues to drink. Unfortunately though, both Frankie and Nancy reveal to each other that instead of giving them single vodka drinks, they've been serving them triple vodka's all shift. Eventually as things get a bit loud, Nancy and Frankie realise their mistake. Shirley and Terry are both drunkenly singing along to "Come On, Eileen!" and then eventually "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)".

I have to admit, even though it was hilarious watching drunk Shirley singing along to the music and having a laugh with Terry, you do feel sorry for Sonia as you realise that Terry has accidentally stood her up for her meal. Arriving at the Vic and seeing the drunken state her Dad is in, she demands Terry to leave Walford and to never come back. Over the next day or so, Terry is desperate to make it up to his daughter and he appears to think that the only way he can do it is to roll out the red carpet in her house for her and make her a meal of her own and instead of calling it "Father's Day" makes it a "Daughter's Day".

As Sonia agrees to give him one final chance, they make it up by taking a selfie together. But when Terry leaves his phone on the table and Sonia takes a look at the picture, she begins to scroll through his phone and sees that there are other photos of houses on his phone. What could these mean? Is he planning on moving to Albert Square for good? OR is he in some kind of business where some of the local properties are going to be knocked down? Who knows?!

The next thing I have to mention is Kat and Phil. Kat is completely excited to learn that things are on the move where her business with Phil is concerned. Phil has confirmed that he has bought the laundrette for their business opportunity and they're just waiting for the paperwork to go through. Only her happiness doesn't seem to last for long as when she enters the café and is confronted by Sharon, it seems that Sharon warns her that anything that Phil is involved in is never legit. Although Sharon's relationship with Phil was completely different compared to Kat's relationship with him, it seems that Sharon's words fill Kat's head with doubt. Eventually she takes it upon herself to confront Phil, claiming she wants to see the paperwork to make sure everything they're doing is legit. She claims that she has already been prison once and doesn't want to end up there again, she needs to be completely certain that going into business with Phil is the right thing to do. I think people are too easy to judge Phil, they should give him a break, he informs Kat that he shouldn't listen to a word that Sharon's said and to trust him, he wants to focus on their future and having something in place for both of their children, but more importantly if she is wanting this as much as he does, then she needs to learn to trust him. I still think that if all goes well for these two, Kat and Phil could potentially be the new power couple on the Square! What do you think?!

Lastly, Callum is still appearing to struggle with the trauma of what happened with his partner. The one person he's been able to confide in is Whitney. After anxiously waiting to hear news about his partner's condition, he was completely relieved when Ash informs him that Fitzy's operation was a success and he should make a full recovery.

As he excitedly informs Whitney about the good news, Whitney reminds him that he should tell Ben now, considering that Fitzy is going to be okay. Callum kind of shuts that comment down and asks Whitney whether she'll accompany him to the hospital to see his partner. However, without their knowledge, Ben sees them from across the Square getting into a cab together, I have to say Ben & Callum's married life hasn't really started off well has it? They've come back from their honeymoon, Phil is still reluctant to talk to either Callum or Ben as he stills holds a grudge against Callum for going behind his back, and Callum has had to deal with the trauma of witnessing his partner being stabbed on the job.

But even though Callum maybe wants to tell Ben about his, Ben did at the start find it hard to accept Callum in the police and had the cheek to ask him to quit, but realising that he loves Callum for who he is and not is job, changes his mind and just requests that Callum never speaks about work to him. So of course, with that in mind, Callum must feel that he has no one else to talk to about recent events, which is why he has leaned on Whitney over the past couple of days. But when Ben sees them getting into that car together, you can tell he's beginning to speculate what they could be up to.

Unfortunately, after returning from seeing Fitzy in the hospital, it looks like it hasn't really helped Callum cope with it, he begins to fret and lash out claiming it was his fault that he's in hospital with wires all attached to him. Almost hurting himself on the garden gate, Whitney acknowledges that she has seen Callum this way before, and it's all down to his PTSD - (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) - we know that he went through it when he was in the army, but now it appears to be resurfacing. The one thing that crossed my mind was, is Ben aware about Callum's PTSD? Has that always been a thing that Ben has known about, I'm a bit unsure?

However, it seems that Whitney is eager for Callum to inform his husband now more so than ever that what's been happening. But when Callum arrives home and Ben asks him how his day at work was, Callum lies to him once again claiming he's had a really busy day and just wants to have a shower alone. Now Ben knows that Callum is lying about being in work, so obviously he's going to be wondering what else he's lying about or not telling him. As Callum makes his way into the shower, Ben grabs his opportunity to search his rucksack and it seems he's completely stunned to find an engagement ring - of course he's going to be completely clueless and wondering why his husband has an engagement ring, but we know that before Fitzy was rushed to hospital, Fitzy gave it to Callum to give to his girlfriend.

I think Callum really needs to talk to Ben soon before he jumps to conclusions and lashes out, accusing Callum of something he's completely innocent of. Overall a good few episodes I have to say, I've really enjoyed being able to type up a couple of blogs this week, I was getting myself a little stressed out that I was so far behind and hadn't posted in a while, but again I want to thank you all for continuing to follow me and show your interest in my blog, it really means the world. Please feel free to send me any thoughts or opinions you may have on the current storylines. Enjoy the rest of your week and I'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

8 notes · View notes

libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Bring It On Home..

Summary: The battle against Thanos is over, and the Avengers are the winners. Those gone for the past five years have returned home, including Bucky. But what changes have taken place in the reader's life since she lost him, and can things go back to the way they were? Or do they have to find a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader is able to see bits and pieces of the future, can understand all languages, and process information at an abnormal pace, as well as being a super soldier)

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, maybe a hint of smut (blink and you'll miss it) mentions of the events of Avengers: Endgame, strong language

*************************************************

She knew it would happen before it did. Her damnable knack for seeing shards of the future let her know that Tony Stark would get the stones, and what’s more, sacrifice his life for both friends and people he had never met, but there were so many screams on the battlefield that day, when her agonized cry escaped her as she rammed her knee into the groin and her knife into the jugular of one of Thanos’s goons (the same one who nearly killed her five years ago, actually) no one heard.

She’ll carry that secret to her grave. Goodness knows Pepper doesn’t need the worry of wondering if it somehow could’ve been avoided (it couldn’t have), if she somehow could have saved him (it wasn’t possible). She briefly thinks about telling Steve once the dust settles, but then she catches sight of a familiar flash of silver, and what’s more, the man in black attached to it.

She’s not sure if he’s seen her before she takes off, running the fastest she ever has, but there’s no way he could miss the sound of her footfalls once she’s nearly on top of him, and he manages to catch her when she nearly topples over from stopping so abruptly in front of him. He looks the same as last time she saw him, her Bucky, but she’s sure she looks much different. Her mind rapidly runs through everything she could say to him, everything she should let him know, but what comes out is five simple words:

“You came back to me.”

He doesn’t get the chance to reply before heart-wrenching sobs echo from the woman in the Iron Man suit, who nearly keels over next to her dead husband. She’s not sure who reaches Pepper first, her, Steve, or Rhodey, but as Rhodes pulls her up to lean against him and Steve shields them from prying eyes, she’s the one to remove the helmet from Pepper’s head and dab at the tears.

She doesn’t see him again except for briefly passing in coridors for several days after that. Steve’s patching up holes in what’s left of their forces, explaining that they’ve been gone for five years, and here’s how they were brought back. Rhodey’s putting out publicity fires. Pepper doesn’t have the huge circle of friends she enjoyed in the days before she and Tony ran off together to start a family, and although they don’t know each other well, she stays with the grieving widow and along with Happy and Peter, entertains Morgan.

Since she hates to leave Pepper for more than an hour at a time, remembering her own grief years earlier, Steve has taken to dropping off fresh clothes for her every day and taking what needs to be washed home with him. That’s who she’s expecting when there’s a knock on the door of the room she’s been staying in for the past week and a half.

That is, until the door opens and her heart skips a beat. It’s him.

He offers her a smile, but it’s nervous.

“Hey. Steve said he was gonna stop by and drop these off for you, but I was in the neighborhood, so I thought-” Stopping short, he holds out the brown paper bag she assumes has the sweater she asked for and the workout wear.

There’s so many things she wants to say to him. So many things he needs to know. That she missed him so much she thought cutting out her heart would be less painful. That not a day has gone by when she hasn’t woken up, expecting to see a good morning text from “Barnes” as he’s still listed in her phone. That she hasn’t deleted any of the voicemails he sent her. That she’s kept moving forward because she had to, but it felt like she was hollow, just a shell of herself.

Instead, she ignores all logic and reserve, and goes with her gut instinct; wrapping one arm around his neck, grabbing a handful of hair to bring him down to her level, and kissing him the way she used to, like no time has passed and no changes have occurred. It’s only when a “thunk” from the bag hitting the floor reaches her ears that she realizes what she’s done or has a moment of doubt. But then, he’s pulled her closer, and she’s not the only one going for broke.

She manages to break away long enough to gasp out,

“Sorry. Is this-”

“This is okay. Yeah. This is good.”

That’s all she needs to hear before dragging him into the room with her and kicking the door closed.

___________________________________________________________________________________

This is stupid. It’s the thought at the forefront of Bucky’s mind. They dated for three years, and he even worked up the courage to ask her if she’d marry him before Thanos attacked. There’s absolutely no reason to be nervous over a simple dinner date. It’s stupid. But he is nervous. Sure, for him, it’s been a grand total of two weeks since the battle where he turned to dust, but for her, it’s been a long five years. Who knows what’s happened in that time?

All of those concerns are put on pause as he catches sigh of her stepping through the diner doors. At the time, when he changed into one of Steve’s nicer button downs, blazers, and a pair of slacks (he’s pretty sure all of his clothes are still in Wakanda… or possibly thrown out by now, since it is five years later), he felt stupid, but now… yeah, he’s still underdressed. Of course, that would be true if she turned up wearing a potato sack, because it’s her, and to his mind (which he can’t guarantee is objective, but dammit, he can’t be far off) she’s the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of this earth.

He’s barely stood up from the booth (no nicer places were available since literally everyone is trying to catch up with long-missing loved ones, and besides, he’s fairly certain they don’t take Wakandan currency in New York) before she catches sight of him, and that smile that could rival the sun peeks out again as she makes her way over. Does he hug her? Does he shake her hand? What’s the protocol when you’re meeting up with the woman who may or may not still be your fiancee for the first time in five years for her, and a few weeks for you? Who you’re sure as hell, absolutely, head over heels in love with, but who knows if she still feels the same way?

He doesn’t get to do either because she pecks his cheek, and before he can recover, slides into her side of the booth.

“You clean up just as nice as I remember.” He needs to say something in response. Words. He knows plenty of them. It’s just the using them that’s the problem.

“You too.” Did part of his brain disappear in the dusting and not come back properly? Is that why he’s completely tongue tied around her?

The situation definitely doesn’t improve when a waitress comes over to take their order and, as they fold up their menus and hand them over, he gets a good look at her left hand. Oh.

“Hey-” He doesn’t realize he’s been just staring until she reaches across the table and lightly grasps his arm. “-you alright there, Buck? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Maybe he has. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Or maybe-

“You kept it on.” She looks confused for a moment, and then a flush rises to her cheeks.

“Of course I did.” Her eyes lower to study the table, and her hand drops away. “Of course.”

“For five years.” Why is he saying this? Can’t he just accept anything at face value?

“Yes, um-” She clears her throat nervously. “-it wasn’t on my finger the entire time. I had a scare around four months in where I thought I’d lost it, and after that, I wore it on a chain around my neck, but yes. I kept it on.”

He wants to tell her how amazing that is, how he’s floored that it meant that much to her, he meant that much to her. But again, she’s the one to speak before he can.

“You can have it back. That is, if you’d rather…” She stumbles over her words, then sighs. “If you’d rather it not mean what it used to mean anymore.” Wait- “I know it’s only been a little while for you, but it’s been five years for me. I’ve gotten older, and I’m rough around the edges in places I didn’t used to be. Plus, I’ve changed a lot, and you might not to be tied down to who I am now-

“Keep it.” Her mouth falls open at the interruption, but she quickly snaps it shut. “That is, if you still want it to mean what it used to mean.”

She frowns slightly.

“I do. You wouldn’t believe how much… it’s only… are you sure?” Of course he’s sure. “If you wanted to take some time to think about it, or if you didn’t want to try at all, I’d understand. No hard feelings.” She laughs sadly. “I mean, who knows? You may not even like me anymore.”

That’s what finally pushes him past embarassment, past any worry about making her uncomfortable. Damn being eloquent. He just needs to say it.

“I don’t need time. I’d already thought about it when I gave the ring to you in the first place.” This time, he’s the one reaching across the table, taking her hand in his. “Doll, I knew we were both gonna change eventually. That’s just what happens as time passes. And my mind’s still made up that I’m gonna love each person you change into. I just wish…” Should he say this? Now or never. “… I wish I’d been there so we could’ve changed together.” She doesn’t look convinced. Alright, time to make things a little ridiculous.

“Are you still the girl who uses the humane mouse traps, has terrible taste in music, and drinks tea because coffee gives her the jitters?”

“Yes and no.” That’s not the answer he was expecting, but at least she’s smiling now. “I still use the no-kill traps, my taste in music was never terrible, excuse you, but coffee doesn’t give me the jitters since the super serum.”

“The what?!”

“Oh, right. You missed that part.”

It’s a long explanation, during which he has to almost completely shut down so he won’t show how much it’s affecting him, hearing how close she came to death that day, but by the end he’s even more certain of his decision.

“Then it’s just as I thought. You may have changed here and there, but at the core, you’re the same girl I fell for in Romania. And I’m still sure I want to marry her.”

Before she can stop it, a tear runs down her cheek. As she wipes it away, she asks,

“Really?”

“Really.” He nods. “But hey, from the sound of it, you’re a bad-ass now. You sure you want to marry an old man?” It works, and she laughs.

“Well, every bad-ass needs a sidekick, and you’ve got the credentials.”

He’s not sure why he asks, because it doesn’t matter, he wouldn’t blame her if there was someone else, but he needs to know just to put it to rest in his own mind.

“What, there weren’t any other applicants?”

“Nope. I held the position open for you.�� He’s never been more excited to start a job in his entire life.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Did you know it was going to happen?” They’re in the back of one of Stark’s (or rather, Pepper’s) SUVs on the way home from Tony’s memorial service. The only major difference from the trip down is that Steve’s gone. He’s gone. Traveled back in time. She doesn’t know for certain, but she’s pretty sure he went back to live his life with Peggy. And now Bucky’s asking her if she had a vision, saw it coming.

“No.” That’s not entirely true. “I saw…” She sighs. “Something confusing, and I still don’t think it’s happened.”

He doesn’t say anything, but she knows he’s waiting for her to explain. Still, she takes a few moments to arrange her thoughts in a way that’ll make sense to someone on the outside. Finally, she thinks she has it figured out.

“I saw you sitting on Steve’s bed, and you were upset. I saw myself sit down next to you to try and comfort you. I didn’t know it would be because of this, but-” she starts to take his hand, but stops herself. What if he’s angry? “-I knew it would be sometime today, because of what we’re wearing.”

It’s quiet, deadly quiet, then-

“When?” It’s one word, but she knows what he means.

“Right after Bruce pushed the button.” Maybe she should’ve mentioned it, but she was hoping she was wrong, that Steve wasn’t going to die going back to return the stones to their proper timelines. Turns out she was indeed wrong. He’s not dead. In fact, he got a life.

“Okay.” She frowns. Surely that can’t be it.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s not like we could’ve stopped him, and I can’t blame him, ‘cause if it were me, that’s what I’d do. But-” He sniffs hard, and that’s when she realizes she’s not the only one trying not to cry. “-I’m gonna miss the punk.”

This time, she gives into her instincts and entwines their fingers, metal against flesh.

“I know you will. I know.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Even if they’ve lost their leaders, the world doesn’t stop spinning, and work doesn’t stop for the Avengers. Sooner or later, they have to regroup, take up the mantle of protecting Earth again. Bucky is surprised when not just Sam, but Rhodey as well asks him to be part of the team. Not just him, he mentally adds. No, they want her too.

“Is this gonna be an issue? You two working together?” She turns in his direction, an eyebrow raised in response to Rhodey’s question. He thinks he knows the answer.

“No. The plan already was to work together until one or the other of us drops.”

Sam cackles.

“Thought that thing on her finger looked familiar. Man, you couldn’t come up with a diamond? Not even a little one?” He catches her rolling her eyes, and fights back a laugh.

“How dangerous do you want her left hook to be, Sam?”

“Good point.”

It’s easily decided that he’ll be part of the main force, and she’ll be in the reserves. That means she’ll keep her job at an upstate community college, teaching English to adults, and he’ll… be doing a lot of paperwork.

What’s not so easily decided is when and how they’re going to make things official. His suggestion is they wait a year for the dust to settle and then do things the old fashioned way, white dress, church, and tux included. Hers is that they walk down to city hall and sign papers. In the end, it’s Pepper who makes the decision.

“Of course you’re having a real wedding. Don’t be silly. And you’ve already waited five years. Why would you want to wait one more?”

She makes polite protests on both their behalves that courthouse weddings are quick and easy, or if they waited a year, they could save up, sort more things out, but Pepper’s not having it, and in the end, they’ve set a date six months in the future, and the widowed Ms. Potts as elected herself the wedding planner. Bucky’s not at all sure about this (Pepper’s a multi-billionare after all, her tastes are probably a little on the extravagant side, and their idea of a “fancy” date has for the most part consisted of “not wearing sweats or pajamas and going somewhere that’s not the sofa in your appartment or mine” y’know, since they’re broke and have been in hiding), but then she pulls out the,

“Please. I need a project to concentrate on that doesn’t have anything to do with… you know. And, I’m paying.”

So of course, neither of them can say no. And really, if the options are wait a year or wait six months, he’ll take the shorter option any day.

He’s been staying in Steve’s apartment (knowing that he’s the one who killed Stark’s parents, he couldn’t bring himself to stay in Avengers H.Q.) since his best friend payed through the next month, but eventually, he has to figure out something else. He may be working for the good guys now, but the price on Brooklyn apartments has just gone through the roof since most people want their old places back, and it’s more than he makes.

He tries not to let on that he’s starting to get a little worried about things (is there anywhere even remotely nearby available at a price he can afford), but eventually it does come up that he’s apartment searching. She has an immediate, rational response:

“Then just move in with me.”

His poker face really must’ve gone to shit (at least around her), because she laughs and, catching a piece of popcorn on the edge of her tongue, asks,

“Come on, Buck. You’ve signed up for the rest of your life. Do you really think we’ll be sick of each other in five months?”

That’s not it, not by a long shot. It’s just that back in his day, moving in together without a trip to church and the exchange of both vows and rings was a way to guarantee whoever the unlucky girl was would be painted as a scarlet woman. It’s archaic, and logically he knows no one bats and eye now, but he still has to ask,

“You sure, Doll?”

She nods.

“Yeah, I have a couch that pulls out into a mattress. Or, if you promise to be a gentleman and keep your hands to yourself, you can have the empty side of my bed.” It’s a joke, and he knows it.

“Sorry. Can’t promise that.” His own smirk matches hers.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just be charitable and offer it to you anyway.”

#marvel #avengers #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x oc #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #captain america #fluff #angst #series #standalone

29 notes · View notes

graceslavenderhaze · 3 years

Text

dance denial {connor stevens}

you have a flirty and playful relationship, when the week of the glow dance rolls around she gets the courage to ask him but is sidelined by a supernatural disturbance.

also the gif belongs the @lovethephantoms idk why it doesn’t say it doesn’t have their handle under this. ( if they see this, omg hi i love you.)

requested fem!reader but it's not a main focus of the imagine.

trigger warnings: talks of bad crushes and boyfriends but nothing explicit, cursing ( not safe for Ramadan.)

It took a lot for you to come to terms with your feelings about Connor. You knew you had feelings for him, you just hadn't decided if those feelings were positive or negative in the long term. Your friends were tired of you dancing around your feelings, they just wanted you both to be happy. They didn't care if that meant you two dating or just having a friendship with flirtatious tension.

You had made up your mind on asking him to the dance on Monday night. After having a two hour long facetime with Gabby and Hanna they'd convinced you their was literally no reason as to why he would say no. So when Tuesday morning rolled around you were dead set on asking him. But he wasn't there. Then possibly one of the weirdest and scariest weeks of your life started taking place, so asking Connor to the dance was sidelined ultimately.

Then everything was reset. The shadowman was gone. Connor was back, and it was Friday night again. You had another opportunity to ask him but pushed it away. You'd already asked him, or his possessed state? It wasn't worth the possible humiliation.

"He rejected me once, I can't deal with that confrontation again." You said to Hanna as you got ready together. Gabby on facetime getting ready with you guys in spirit but her mom promised her she could drive so she opted to get ready at home. "Ok in the past twenty four you've battled a shadow demon." Gabby said as she stopped applying her highlighter to give you a dead stare over the phone for dramatic flare before continuing. " You can ask him to the glow dance."

"Seriously, you saved his life. He owes you a dance date at least." Hanna said as she began doing her hair. You shook your head, "He doesn't owe me anything. I would've done it for any of you." You said as you applied eyeliner.

"Yeah but for Connor just a smidge more." Gabby giggled over the phone, you rolled your eyes. "It's okay, you have a crush." Hanna said turning her attention to you, "Not the end of the world, literally everyone on the face of the earth has had them."

"It's not a crush!" You exclaimed, you hadn't had the best track record with crushes. Therefore you refused to even put Connor in that category. It seemed like every time you'd get close to someone, they'd hurt you and leave. You didn't want that with Connor. Even if you denied your own feelings, your walls were so high that you didn't notice them start to crack and grow flowers around your best friend.

"Is this about hewhoshallnotbenamed?" Gabby didn't have to ask that, it was a dead give away. Your ex had hurt you really bad. He was the first boy you dated in freshman year and slowly but surely he broke your heart with a sledge hammer.

"We all know my track record is shit, Connors just." You didn't even know how to explain it. "I chase people away. I don't know if feelings are worth losing him." You'd put your eyeliner down at this point. "Fuck that!" Gabby said before covering her mouth and checking to see if her mom was home yet. "Sorry but, you almost lost him this week isn't that more the reason to tell him?"

"When I first showed up in the dark the first thing he asked about was if you were okay." Hanna added, "If he didn't like you why would he have gone through such lengths to protect you this whole time?" It was true, since he got out of the light house he hadn't taken his sight off of you or let you get out of arms reach. Was the only thing stopping you, your own paranoia?

You'd finished getting ready with Hanna about half an hour ago. She went home so her moms could take pictures before she showed up at the dance and Gabby hung up not so much before hand. You stayed cleaning in your room so when you got home it wasn't a total disaster.

Your parents weren't back from work yet so you were enjoying blasting your music before going to the generic recycled playlists the school constantly played at the dances. Then your doorbell being rung distracted you. "Got it!" You yelled rushing towards the door incase it was a mail carrier or something like that.

Opening the door you saw Connor, his usual dark and distressed clothing tossed aside wearing something more fitting for the glow dance. "Hey!" He said walking in as you closed the door behind him. "Hey, I thought we were all meeting at the dance?" You asked, it had been mutually decided in the group chat. After Gabby's mom agreed she could drive there, Hanna's moms wanted pictures, and other personal conflicts that had presented that meeting up individually would be the best idea.

"We still are, I just thought that I should pick you up." He said as the two of you made your way back to your bedroom. "Why would you pick me up?" You asked as continued to clean your room while Connor jumped onto your bed. "Cause we're us, y'know." He said taking sudden interests in your squishmallows.

You stopped in your tracks. If there was a nobel peace prize or some societal outstanding award for stubbornness, you win beating every nomee in a landslide. "There isn't an us, there just is just our flirty friendship that has a suffocating amount of romantic tension which sucks!" You declared turning around. Taken aback he sat up, "I thought that you liked this flirty friendship."

"Not if it's only going to be a fucking friendship." You said lowly leaning against your desk. Realizing what you'd said you spit out whatever would save your ass, "Let's just pretend like this never happened." Standing up and walking in front of you. "I'm not okay with pretending, especially when I've waited so long." You try to push away but you're already in a corner, both literally and metaphorically.

" I'm bad luck, trust me. You deserve a girlfriend who can actually tell you how she feels, Con." It was like a lightbulb flashed in his head. Turning around and grabbing a reversible octopus off of your bed. "Tell me how you feel then." He said placing it into your hands. It was on green, green would be playing it safe. Your friendship would stay the same and you wouldn't have to risk ruining it. No deep end.

You flipped it to purple before handing it to Connor. He smiled, "You deserve to be loved." You looked up at him, deep end bound. He placed his hands on either side of your face. "So let me through those walls." You breathed in. "Only if you promise you won't hurt me."

"Never. I could never hurt you." You felt the moss and ivy that had grown upright on those walls slowly retracted. You moved to place your head in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you. "Shit, there goes my stone cold bitch reputation." You joked.

Loosening his grip he curled one of fingers and placed it under your chin. "You were never stone cold to me." Pressing his lips to yours. "But my girlfriend is a bitch and I like her very much." He joked causing you to giggle.

"So, are we going to the dance? Because I like this." You said, He stepped back. "Yes and we can do more of this later." He said as you grabbed your shoes. "Didn't take you for a clinger, Con." You said sitting down to tie them. "Really?" He said jumping onto your bed and crashing into you, "Cause I can get clingy-er." He said pulling himself into you as you finished to tie your shoes. You looked over and smiled.

"M'lady." He said holding his hand out with a dorky british accent. "Why thank you kind sire." You said taking it and walking out of your room.

#are you afraid of the dark #are you afraid of the dark imagine #are you afraid of the dark x reader #ayaotd imagine #ayaotd x reader #connor stevens #connor stevens imagine #luke mccoy #hanna romero #gabby lewis #jai malyas #grace writes

13 notes · View notes

ad1thi · 4 years

Text

no place like home | AU-gust Day 7: Childhood Friends AU

AU-gust masterlist

“We were childhood friends but since you moved, we haven’t been in contact in years. And my family keeps bugging me about dating, so I lied and said I was in a relationship with you. But all of a sudden you come back to visit and I don’t know how to tell you, that everyone thinks we’re dating.” AU (x)

for @iam93percentstardust, this is compliant to s2.12 Profiler, Profiled. so please watch out for the content of this episode.

Derek Morgan would like it to be noted, penned down in ink, carved into stone, that he loves his family. It's important that there's a record of a point of his life when he adored his sisters, because right now, all he feels is annoyance and rage, and is weirdly sympathising with the UnSub they're investigating, a man who kills younger sisters.

"Desiree," he says for what feels like the tenth time, "I'm fine. I'm happy. I don't need to meet your friend Savannah. Matter of fact, I don't need to meet anyone, because I'm not on the market for anyone. Why can't you trust me when I'm telling you I'm happy?"

"Derek," Desiree's voice seems significantly more whiney over the phone, "You forget that I know you. That job of yours is killing you, and I just want you to be happy. Why are you against meeting her? I'm not asking you to knock her up, just meet her for dinner."

Her voice takes a suspicious tone, "Are you seeing someone Derek Morgan? Is that why you're so against this?"

Derek opens his mouth to explain that no, he isn't seeing anyone, he's just content with his life as it is right now, but a commotion in the bullpen distracts him. He looks over to see Hotch opening the door to someone, must be the new recruits. He squints, trying to get a feel for the flesh blood, and what comes out is, "Spencer?"

In his ear, Desiree squeals, and he remembers with rapidly growing horror that his sister is still on the phone. "You're getting Spencer?" her voice gets progressively higher pitched, "I had no idea you guys reconnected! When did that happen?"

Derek means to explain, but he's so tired of trying to convince his sisters that he's better off single - which is how he ends up coming up with his half-cocked story about how he met Spence in D.C a couple months and they'd been seeing each other. He keeps the details purposely vague because his mind is wrapping itself around the fact that tiny Spencer Reid is in his office at Quantico.

(and that he's no longer tiny anymore)

"I always thought you guys would end up together," Desiree says speculatively, "but then Spence moved to Nevada. Did you know that Ma and Mrs Reid had bets about when you guys were going to get your heads out of your asses. Oh, she's going to be so happy that you guys reconnected."

"No!" Derek says loudly, causing Elle and Gideon and look up, "Desiree, listen to me very carefully - you cannot tell Ma." Lying to his sister was one thing, Derek was not about to lie to his Ma.

"Why not?" Desiree asks plaintively, "she'll be so happy about this Derek you know it. Plus, she already knows Spencer, so it's not going to be a huge shock for her."

"I just," Derek fumbles for words, "I want to be the one to tell her okay? And I want to do it proper, bring him back to Chicago, the whole nine yards. This isn't something that I want to do over the phone. Can you respect that?"

"Okay," Desiree huffs, "but you owe me."

The knot inside his stomach loosens. In the bullpen, Hotch is waving him over, "Desiree I have to go, I think there's been an update in our case. I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay, but I expect details!" she says, but he's already stepping outside Gideon's office and climbing down the stairs.

"Hey," he says when he gets closer, tapping Gideon's shoulder, "Thanks for letting me use your office. My sister does not like to be ignored. I appreciate it man."

"Not a problem," Gideon gestures for Spencer to come over, and Derek notices the minute Spencer recognises him, "Derek Morgan this is -"

" - Spencer Reid," Derek finishes, unsure of whether he could open his arms for a hug or settle for a single handshake, "As I live and breathe."

"Actually," Spencer ducks his head, "It's Doctor Spencer Reid now. I got my PhDs a couple years back. Derek Morgan? As in..?" he trails off, and its soothing that Spencer is just as unsure of how to approach this as he feels.

Gideon gestures between them, "Do you guys know each other?"

Derek decides to take the first step, and throws his hand around Spencer's shoulder, the way he used to when they were kids, "We grew up together. I've known Spencer since he was a kid in diapers."

"I thought you were from Nevada," Elle pipes up from next to them, and Spencer answers, "We moved when I was 15. But I was from Chicago before that."

He looks up at Derek with warm fondness, "Derek was there when I graduated from highschool. He was there for most of it."

"Hell, yeah I was. So, PhDs huh? Plural? Wanna tell me about that?" Derek asks, but before the conversation can go anywhere, Hotch interrupts them. "I hate to break this up, but we've got an update on the case."

The shift in the group is remarkable, even amongst the newest members. Derek shifts everything out of his mind, including his conversation with Desiree.

Looking back, that was probably where the trouble started.

Holding cells are not unfamiliar territory for Derek. He's been inside more than he can count, all over the country. They're all the same, four drab walls and a window or two shackled with bars, and a one-way mirror so that you can look at yourself. Ostensibly, it's so that interrogations can be witnessed by other officers, but Derek thinks they have a more important purpose - they force the perp to face themselves, to look themselves in the eyes with the knowledge of what they've done.

He's seen hundreds of holding cells. He's just never been the person they're trying to keep in a holding cell.

(Actually, that’s a lie, but Derek lies to forget that part of his life. There's nothing about that period of his life worth remembering)

"Derek Morgan," the doors open to reveal Gordinski, and Derek fights the urge to introduce Gordinski's face to his fist. What was the man thinking, arresting him outside his Ma's place? How was he going to explain this to her?

"Did you get any sleep?" he asks, carrying a beefy file with him. "Slept like a baby, myself. Didn't even want to get out of bed."

"Really?" Derek cocks an eyebrow, "So that wasn't your donut-eating ass on the other side of the glass all night?"

Gordinski ignores him, which is expected, because he's a shit cop, and barrels on with the witch-hunt that he's concocted in his head.

"Whose grave is this?" he asks, shoving a photo in front of Derek's face.

"Have you been following me?"

Gordinski presses like he hasn't heard Derek, "Whose?"

"I don't know his name," it was the truth. Nobody had known the kid's name. But Derek had looked down at his still body and seen his own face staring back - and it never sat right with him.

"But you led the collection," Gordinski switches out the photo for more of him at the grave, "And you visit him a lot."

"Everytime I come home," Derek isn't ashamed of that, but he has no idea where Gordinski's going with this, "What, you got a crush on me all of a sudden?"

Gordinski's face twitches, and mentally Derek tallies it. Derek:1, Gordinski: 0, he thinks to himself, but is careful to keep his face blank. There's no need to give Gordinski more ammo than he already has.

There's a new photo in front of him, and Derek's brow furrows, "Okay that's me at the youth centre, tossing a ball around with a couple of kids."

"You did a little more than that," Gordinski's alluding to something, but for the life of him, Derek can't figure out what, "This is about you giving one of them a ride home, one of the boys."

Terror creeps into Derek, surely? - "Yeah I did. This kid named, um, Damien. His place was on the way to my mother's."

Gordinski puts down a final photo in front of him, and when Derek sees what it is, he thinks that there should be some sort of law against Gordinski being this smug about a crime scene photo. "Damien Walters," he jabs at the photo, "D O A."

Oh fuck.

"Fuck," Derek says out-loud, "someone killed him."

"Not somebody Derek," and with sudden clarity, Derek understands what Gordinski's getting at. "You think I did this?"

Gordinski opens his mouth to reply, probably to read him his rights, but there's a knock on the door - and he excuses himself, radiating smugness.

"Fuck," Derek says again, out into the empty cell, listening to it echo against the walls.

The door swings open again, and Derek stands up, fully expecting it to be Hotch. When Spencer steps in however, he loses all of his steam, sagging back down against the desk.

"Spence," he says in a long huff, "What're you doing here? I thought they weren't letting anyone see me?"

"They weren't," Spencer confirms, "but Hotch and Gideon are busy, and I can be convincing. Occasionally. I think I might've talked so much that Gordinski let me in just so that I would stop talking, but it worked right?"

"Yeah it did," he says with relief, and moves to hug Spencer before the metal around his wrists dig into his skin, "It's good to see you man. How's everything going on out there?"

Spencer's face turns solemn, "It's not great. You were right, Gordinski is convinced that you did this, and he won't listen to any of us when we say you didn't. I really missed out on some crazy years huh?"

"Yeah you did," he chuckles despite the situation he's in, and reaches out to grasp at Spencer's fingers, "Gordinski's had it in for me for ages. It's a good thing you left before that shitstorm hit me."

"Yeah Desiree filled me in when I went to see your family earlier," Spencer's face turns sly, "Speaking of, when were you going to tell me that we were dating?"

Derek's eyes widen. Fuck, that conversation felt like it was an age away. "I'm not saying I'm against it," Spencer continues, "but I do like to be consulted about this stuff."

"Oh you do Pretty boy?" Derek says, just to watch his cheeks heat, "I'm sorry man. It completely slipped my mind, what with the murder charge I'm facing and all."

"I know what you're doing," Spencer hums, "but I'm not letting you off that easy. Desiree thinks that we've been dating for close to a year. Says you talk about me all the time. Somehow, I feel like I would've noticed if I was sleeping with the Derek Morgan for a year, but it never came up."

Derek ignores the twitch in his pants at the thought of sleeping with Spencer, and instead says, "Your observational skills clearly need work pretty boy," he jangles the cuffs, "I'll help you out once I'm out of these."

Spencer huffs, but lets the subject be, "Are you sure you don't know who's got it out for you Derek? I'm not saying that Gordinski is right, but you have to admit - it's a hell of a coincidence that bodies drop every single time you're in town. It's almost a statistical impossibility. The only logical explanation is that someone's setting you up."

Carl Buford, Derek thinks instantly, almost unbidden. He dismisses the thought almost instantly though, even though it ruminates in his mind. "Rodney Harris, he's a local gangbanger in town. He's had it out for me ever since we were kids. It’s gotta be him Spence."

"I think Hotch is running down some leads now," Spencer says with a nod, "I'll tell the team though. Get all of us on it. Are you sure there's nobody else Derek?"

Carl Buford, he thinks again, but he shakes his head. He's not ready for the team to know that about him yet. He's not ready for anybody to know that about him yet, least of all Spencer.

He knows that Spencer has sense he's lying, but thankfully, he drops it. He's almost at the door when Spencer turns back to him and says, "I didn't hate it. Being your boyfriend. Wished you'd actually asked me, but - I didn't hate it."

He's out of the holding cell before Derek can formulate a response.

Despite his loud, emphatic protests otherwise, all roads lead back to Carl Buford. Derek is still smarting about the fact that Hotch dug into his past, when he specifically told him to leave it the fuck alone, but he takes small comfort in the fact that the rest of the team seems any the wiser.

He can't escape his Ma and sisters though, and there's a lot of tears and hugs in the Morgan household that night.

"I never knew," his Ma says desperately, cheeks wet, "you have to believe me Derek. I never knew what he was capable of. I wouldn't have pushed you to reconnect with him if I'd known."

"I know Ma," he soothes, and brings the her palm to his lips to press a dry kiss to the back of it, " 'Course I know that."

"Were there others?" Desiree asks bravely, even though Ma turns to her with a sharp look, "Did he have, others?"

"I don't know," Derek says honestly. "I'm sure he did. Abusers," his voice cracks over the word abuser, but he pushes ahead, "generally have multiple victims. It's why I made it a point to keep up with kids like James, just in case he ever did something - I wanted them to think they had someone to tell."

"Shit load of good it did, since Buford still fucked him up anyway. But at least now," he takes a steading breath, "At least now he's behind bars. James has still got time. Time to get over it, to make a new life for himself. I just hope it's enough." His Ma starts crying again then, collapsing in his arms, and Derek just holds up. He feels Desiree wraps her arms around his neck and lean against his back.

He's loath to leave them the next day, but his leave is up, and JJ got wind of a new case that demands their attention. Still, it's not easy walking out of his Ma's house and onto the plane, especially not with everything that's ever come out.

There are a few advantages of being back with the BAU though.

"You didn't hate it huh?" he knocks at Spencer's shoulder, grinning when he blushes, "I believe those were your exact words?"

"I'm the one with the eidetic memory," Spencer replied wryly, "your shtick is muscles. Stop taking my stuff."

"Oh is that how it is?" Derek raises an eyebrow, "I'm not gonna let you skirt past this pretty boy, we're having this conversation. There's nowhere to run anymore."

Spencer looks around the plane like he's looking for an exit anyway, and Derek softens, "Hey. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But there's a reason I never came clean with Desiree." He moves to get out of his seat, give Spencer some space, but a hand on his bicep stops him.

"Did you know," Spencer says, apropos of nothing, "that our mothers had a bet going about whether we were going to get together. She told me during one of her more lucid moments. Said the thing she regretted most about leaving Chicago was separating us."

"I did," Derek says gamely, "Desiree told me about it when I first told her that we were dating."

"I had the biggest crush on you," Spencer says, admitting it like it's a secret, which - given how long it's been since they were kids in Chicago, Derek supposes it is, "Still do, if I'm being honest."

Derek's heart is pumping so loudly in his chest, he can hear his blood roaring. "As long we're being honest," he says with a lilt, but reaches down and intertwines their fingers.

Spencer looks down at where their fingers are joined, and back up at him, and Derek knows that he gets it from the way his face splits into a wide smile. Before either of them can say anything though, Derek's phone buzzes, and he fishes it out of his pocket with this free hand.

>> Hotch: I expect the paperwork on my desk by the end of the week. Congratulations.

Spencer and Derek look up at Hotch simultaneously, but he's looking down at his book. There's a smile playing on his lips though, and despite himself, Derek smiles too.

Fin

this ficlet exists as a spiritual sequel to this fic

#my writing #moreid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer x derek #spencer/derek #criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #s2.12 #profiler profiled #adi does AU-gust #AU-gust #friends to lovers #fake/pretend relationship #referenced/implied child abuse #its been a minute since ive watched the show #so im sorry if Spencer is a bit OOC!!

66 notes · View notes

avatarstories · 4 years

Text

izumi’s birthday part three: sources of wisdom

The next morning, breakfast with the family is awkward. Izumi was a few moments late, having had to stop by the royal seamstress to have the last adjustments fitted for party outfit finished. By the time she arrived at breakfast, everyone was seated, and the only empty chair was between her father and Bumi. Bumi’s stony expression made her want to just be swallowed up by the floor. Maybe she could go find Druk and convince him to eat her. She gives Bumi a sad smile, and he rolls his eyes with a noticeable exhale. Izumi takes her seat quietly trying her hardest to give him as much space as possible.

“Are we going to talk about how Izumi and Bumi are making the air in the room extremely uncomfortable?” Kya says. “Lover’s quarrel?” she jokes.

“Fuck off, Kya” Bumi mutters, looking down at the table in front of him. Kya is across from him and leans in trying to get his attention.

“Excuse me?” she says with a joking lilt in her voice.

Bumi doesn’t say anything. Instead, he throws his tea at Kya and storms out of the dining room. Everyone is silent but all eyes are on Izumi. Having managed to stop the tea from hitting her, Kya bends it back into a cup.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Izumi! What an exciting way to start the day,” Kya deadpans. Zuko looks at Izumi with a concerned expression. Azula looks ready to go to murder. Toph and Lin have their eyebrows raised and are taking a big sips of their mango juices. Tenzin hangs his head and focuses intently at his rice. Izumi notices Katara giving Aang a look that says go after him and when he doesn’t move she shakes her head.

“This looks like a job for a wise old man like me,” Iroh says, pushing his chair back so that he can stand up.

“General Iroh, it’s really ok, Aang can take care of it,” Katara says.

“Uh, I kinda agree with General Iroh,” Aang replies sheepishly.

If looks could kill, the ice in Katara’s eyes would have Aang pinned to the wall. “You are unbelievable,” she says quietly, though the anger and disappointment in her tone are unmistakable. She follows Bumi out the door

“Looks like Twinkletoes is in the polar bear doghouse,” Toph says. Aang groans and then goes after Katara and Bumi.

“Care to enlighten us, Izumi?” Azula asks.

“Not really,” she mutters. “I’m going to the training yard,” she announces quietly, and she walks out the door.

Azula looks between Zuko and Iroh “I would go after her, but I was planning to go boss some staff around to make sure her party is perfect, which I think now needs to be even more perfect,” she says.

“I will see what is bothering our dear Izumi,” Iroh says pushing out his chair once again. He and Azula leave the room.

“Man,” Lin says “I thought mom and I would be the ones to start drama.” At that, Sokka laughs so hard he snorts, and Suki punches him in the side for it. —————————————————————————————————

Izumi is moving through advanced katas when Iroh finds her.

“I have told you before, forms practiced in anger are like tea steeped in unclean water, dear Izumi.”

She finishes the form sending an arc of a flame towards the stone wall with an audibly annoyed exhale.

“Now, are you going to tell me what is wrong or should I guess? Kya suggested a -”

“IM NOT DATING BUMI! CAN EVERYONE STOP THINKING THAT!”

Iroh chuckles. “Everyone used to think the same of your father and Katara when they were yours and Bumi’s ages. When people share a special bond others cannot help but wonder. But of course I did not come here to talk about your father’s youthful affections. It appears you and Bumi are experiencing a strain. Care to inform your old grandfather so he can help you?”

“We had a misunderstanding.”

“I know that I am old, Izumi, but I am not blind.”

“Bumi was telling me about some issues in their family between him and his dad, and I basically told him that he should be lucky not to have the weight of a legacy on his shoulders.”

“So your problem stems from your fear of your future,” Iroh affirms. “Rightfully so on an occasion as momentous as your 17th birthday, but Izumi, you are a kind, gentle, and fair minded young woman, and your father is a picture of health, what has brought about this anxiety?”

Izumi crosses her arms and says nothing.

“Izumi?”

“I overheard some of the noblewomen talking about a curse on the Fire Ladies.”

“And what is this curse?”

“That Fire Ladies who die in childbirth give rise to evil Fire Lords. The spirits make them pay the ultimate price for what they bring into the world.”

Iroh takes in her words. “And so you have applied this to your own birth?” Izumi nods.

“You’re young yet Izumi, but I think you will find that destiny is what you make of it,” he says. “You and your father are the descendants of Sozin and Azulon, but you’re also the descendants of Avatar Roku on your grandmother’s side. There’s light and dark in you, and you will have to chose what nature you will allow to flourish. But knowing you, I would largely place my bets on the light side. And,” he takes a pause, “you can always seek to redeem yourself for your faults. I tried to break through the walls of Ba Sing Se, and then I took it back from the Fire Nation. Your father chased Aang halfway across the world, and now they are best friends. Azula was one of the most terrifying people in existence -”

“She still is.”

He chuckles. “Yes, she still is. But the original fire bending masters deemed her worthy of regaining her power when she lost it and repented, and they even gifted her a dragon egg as they did to your father,” he explains.

“Your father’s legacy was to end a war. Yours will be the equally important one of maintaining peace,” Iroh says. “Now, maybe you should go practice that and make your amends with Master Bumi. I am off to make some tea.”

“What if he won’t speak to me,” she asks.

“Well then your partner dance in front of the court later on at your party will be terribly uncomfortable!” he says walking back inside. ——————————————————————————————————— Bumi does not really know where he is walking to, and he just follows the direction that instinct takes him. He can hear his parents behind him, but he does not stop.

“Bumi please,” Katara calls.

He groans and walks faster. In this instance, he was incredibly pleased with himself because he still remembers some of the secret passageways in the palace that Izumi had showed him as children when they would play hide and explode with Izumi’s Aunt Kiyi and Aunt Azula, so he ducked into one that he knew was coming and hears his parents run right passed. It was slightly dark inside, which made perfect sense considering that usually only firebenders used these hallways and had no need for any other light.

Bumi went off memory and kept his right hand on the wall. If he had to figure this out like a maze in order to get out, that’s what he would do. After about ten minutes in the dark, he feels a variation in the stone that tells him he’s found a door. If he remembers correctly, this one will let him out by the portrait gallery. However, when he opens the door, he’s stopped by a piece of furniture.

“Huh?” he hears someone ask, and soon the furniture is being shoved out of the way and the door opens and bright light blinds him, and Azula is standing in front of him.

She stares him up and down. “I would offer to help you but I will warn you first that if you ruin Izumi’s birthday, not even the fact that your father is the Avatar will save you from me.”

Bumi remains frozen, unsure what to do.

“Well don’t just sit there,” she says, raising a brow. He stumbles into what he realizes to be Azula’s office.

“If you are avoiding your parents who ran after you when you caused quite the commotion at breakfast, then my office would definitely be the best place to hide. Push that back into place,” she commands gesturing to the small table she had just moved.

Bumi has not spent much time alone with Azula. Whenever he would visit the Fire Nation, he and Izumi were attached at the hip. Every summer when Kya would go to the Southern Water Tribe and his dad and Tenzin would go to an Air Temple, Bumi would get dropped off in the Fire Nation for a few months of sword training with Master Piandao. After Piandao passed away, Zuko offered to continue training him since Sokka was busy trying to get Republic City up and running. In all that time, he’d never really gotten to know Azula. From what Izumi had told him, Azula was Zuko’s right hand. She lead his small council and sat in on meetings when he was away on diplomatic trips, which made her an extremely powerful person.

He looks around her office. It’s clean and tidy. There is a small ink portrait of Izumi on the wall to the right of Azula's desk, and vases of Fire Lilies around the room.

Azula studies him while he looks around the room. “Should I ask what’s bothering you or should we pretend this exchange never happened?”

“Whatever you prefer,” he replies.

“I prefer to be well informed.”

“Izumi and I had a fight.”

“I gleaned that,” she says flatly. There’s a pause. “Izumi hates celebrating her birthday. She tells us every year it makes her feel guilty, but the 17th birthday of the Heir Apparent is a rite of passage in the Fire Nation.”

“Why’s that?”

“Traditionally, it’s when the Crown Prince, or in Izumi’s case, Princess, starts sitting on the small council and has to take up a stronger political role than just kissing babies and doing well in school… it’s seen as the last day of childhood.”

Oh Bumi thinks. “That’s why she’s so stressed.”

“Most likely a factor.”

“She never mentioned it.”

“Well, you know Izumi. Unless it’s Zuko, getting her to tell you what’s wrong is like pulling teeth. She is like you in that regard.” Bumi looks puzzled. “I read people very well,” she says in reply to his reaction. There’s a pause as she regards him. “I do not imagine it is easy to be a non-bender in a family like yours.”

“Man, you really don’t hold back.”

She offers him a half smile. “I understand the fear of being a disappointment too. When I was 12 I was so scared of failure and what would happen if I disappointed my father. It was not even two years by the time I self destructed.”

“I’m not going to self destruct,” he mutters.

“Then you might need some help carrying that weight on your shoulders around.”

He is quiet for a minute. “What if there’s no one to help me?”

She glances down at a small ink drawing of her mother, Zuko, and herself that sits on her desk. “From my experience, you can often find help in very unexpected places, but you have to be open to being helped.”

AN: you cannot convince me Azula didn’t get a redemption arc and a lot of healing and become a strange source of wisdom. you just can’t. azula redemptions are a peak of feminist literature.

I imagine redeemed Azula serves Zuko in a position similar to the hand of the king from GoT.

#avatarstories #izumi #bumi #azula #zuko #aang #katara #toph #lin #kya #iroh

58 notes · View notes