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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 56: Phone Call

Harry's mobile rang and he couldn't help but smile as he reached for his back pocket. It had taken a while but Draco had finally come around on mobiles, he called him almost every day on his lunch and it was one of Harry's favorite parts of his day.

"Hey you," he greeted. "I was thinking pot roast for dinner, would you pick up some carrots on your way?"

"Harry," he gasped and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end, his entire body tingling like he was about to fall off a cliff.

"Where are you?" he asked. "I'm coming for you."

"Too late," the other man rasped.

Harry shook his head, and grabbed his wand, "No-"

"Please," Draco begged, breath rattling in his chest, "Listen," he gasped, "to me."

"I'm listening," Harry whispered, he couldn't get his voice to come out any louder, it felt like he'd swallowed glass.

"I love you," he said. "So much. You," he broke of, a cough rattling around in his chest. "Are the best thing that ever happened to me."

Harry's breath caught on a panicked sob, "Draco-"

"You," he gasped, crying out in pain, "you saved me. Love yo-"

The phone call ended abruptly and without a thought, Harry immediately apparated, through the wards into the Ministry and straight into Ron's office. "Where is he?" he said the moment his feet touched the floor.

"Circe's tits!" Ron exclaimed and Harry was vaguely aware of something shattering as Ron startled. "How the bloody hell-"

"Where is he?!" Harry shouted.

"Draco?" Ron shook his head, "You know I can't tell you that, mate. You're not-"

"I don't care. He's dying! Tell me where he is or I will bring this building to the ground."

(Read more below the cut)

"What-"

"Tell me!"

"Alright," he said, looking down at the file on his file, "Here-" he said thrusting the file at Harry.

He looked at the coordinates and apparated into the warehouse they'd sent Draco to. The moment his feet touched the ground spells were being fired of at him, but Harry was so desperate, so terrified, that his magic exploded from his body, knocking down every person standing in the room.

Without thinking, he started to move. "Draco!" he shouted as he started to jog through the rows of cases, "Draco," he begged, his heart thundering so loudly in his ears that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hear a response.

He was almost to the end of the warehouse, about to turn back, when he glanced down a row and saw him, crumpled on the ground, blood pooling absolutely everywhere.

"Draco," he gasped, running to him and lifting him into his arms.

Draco's eyes fluttered weakly and that was all the hope that Harry needed. He apparated with the other man in his arms, taking him to St. Mungos, and screaming "Help!" as soon as they landed.

Healers seemed to rush from every side, a fact that Harry would be profoundly grateful for later, and Draco was laid out on a stretcher to be moved into a room.

A healer caught Harry as he tried to follow, "Let us work," she said.

"But-"

"No," she told him firmly, "I know you are terrified, but we need to be able to work and having you in there will only distract us."

"He's my life," Harry whispered.

She nodded, "I will do everything I can. Please. Stay here and we'll update you as soon as we can."

He stumbled when she let go, collapsing onto the floor by the door. Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed as he sat on the floor with his head down between his knees, shaking and trying to breathe before Ron and Hermione found him.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured.

"Did you find him?" Ron asked, "Did you get to him in time?"

Harry looked up to see Ron's face ashen, Hermione's eyes wide with concern and he cracked, splintered into a thousand pieces that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to put together again.

His best friends were at his sides in an instant, Hermione wrapped her arms around him from the left and Ron around both of them from the right. And Harry cried. He wept, heaving, ugly sobs that he could hardly breathe around.

When he finally managed to calm himself down enough to take a deep shuddering breath, he whispered, "I don't know."

"What?" Ron asked, rubbing his hand in soothing circles along Harry's back.

"I found him and he was alive, but just barely."

"Okay," Hermione said, "Okay. We'll wait with you, alright?" she asked.

He nodded and rested his head against her shoulder, still ensconced in their embraces. Time seemed to be hardly moving at all but eventually the same healer who'd stopped Harry from going along with Draco came out of the room.

Harry looked up at her, his heart lodged so completely in his throat that he couldn't get any words out.

"He's alive," she said and Harry had to fight not to start sobbing all over again. "He's still unconscious and we won't know the complete extent of the damage until he's awake-"

"Can I see him?" Harry begged.

She nodded, "Yes. It might be some time before he wakes up, though. And like I was saying, we won't know the extent-"

"I don't care," Harry said, "I don't care one bit, whatever happens we'll work through it. I'll do anything."

"Okay," she said softly, "Okay. Go ahead inside."

Ron and Hermione helped him up and followed him into the room but stayed near the doorway as Harry approached the bed. Hermione conjured a chair for him near the bed and he gave her a grateful little nod, it was the best he could do.

He brought Draco's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles, "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please come back to me, my love," he said, voice tight. "I can't-" he couldn't push any other words out through his throat, he broke down crying again, pressing Draco's hand against his lips.

Hermione stepped over and rubbed Harry's back, Ron came to the foot of the bed and murmured, "He'll pull through."

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

Two weeks. Harry had spent two weeks in St. Mungos; he hadn't left to go further than the bathroom in Draco's room for a quick shower or downstairs to get some food to bring up.

At first, he'd watched Draco almost constantly, begging him to wake up, but he'd slowly allowed himself to start doing other things while he waited; reading books aloud to him or the newspaper, knitting scarves while he talked to Draco about whatever came into his head that he'd donate to the gala that raised money for children orphaned by the war, and napping in the chair that Hermione had made for him.

He was working on a crossword when he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. By this point, though, he'd thought that the other man was moving so many times that he finished writing in the word he was on before looking up.

Time stood still as Draco's eyes fluttered slowly open.

"Draco?" he whispered.

Draco turned his head slowly, his eyes catching on Harry's.

"Hey," Harry gasped, dropping the cross word, his eyes filling with tears as the took Draco's hand in his and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. "You scared the shit out of me," he said weakly.

"Harry?" Draco rasped, voice hardly making any sound at all.

He nodded, "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," he whispered.

"Hold on," he murmured, pulling out his wand and sending a patronus to the healers station. "I love you," Harry said. "Godric, I love you."

"I've heard you," Draco said.

"Sorry?" he murmured.

Draco's fingers weakly squeezed Harry's and Harry took that to be a good sign, "I heard you," he said. "I lost count of how many times you said it."

He pressed another kiss to Draco's knuckles, not sure what to say.

A healer came hurrying in, "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "You gave your boyfriend quite a scare, love."

He nodded, squeezing Harry's fingers.

"Let's get you up to testing, so we can get a better picture of your recovery plan."

Draco looked over at him, "You'll be here?"

"I'm pretty much never leaving your side again," Harry said, only half joking. "Yes, I'll be here."

-------

When they returned Draco to him, the other man was smiling and a bit of color had returned to his face. He seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with the healer bringing him back to Harry.

He glanced up and gave Harry a smile as she put his bed back in place.

"You'll be happy to know that he's going to be okay," she informed Harry. "We'll have to do a bit of work to re-train his body," she added, "but he'll make a full recovery."

"Thanks," Harry said, shaking her hand before moving back to his chair at Draco's side.

"Hey," Draco murmured.

He took Draco's hand in his and brushed a kiss over the back, "Hi."

"You've wanted me to quit the aurors for a while," Draco said.

"Yes," he affirmed because it was true; being an auror was dangerous and it was always fighting not only the bad guys but also corruption within the system. "But I understand the appeal of doing good things to help people," he added, because he did, he understood it all too well.

"Could you help me with something?"

Harry laughed, "At this point you could ask me to do pretty much anything and I would."

"Do you have a piece of parchment?"

He looked around, digging through the stack of books and magazines that Hermione had left him until he found a piece of scrap paper, "Will this do?"

He rolled his eyes, "I suppose it will suffice." And what a ridiculous thing it was to have missed his haughtiness.

"What do you want me to write?" Harry asked.

Draco cleared his throat, "Dear Head Auror Weasley," he started and Harry looked up at him in shock. "Write it down," he chastised.

His fingers trembled a little as he started to write.

"I hereby tender my resignation, effective immediately. Signed, Draco Malfoy."

"Do you mean it?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, reaching up to cup Harry's face. "I'm sorry."

Harry turned his head to press a kiss to Draco's palm, "It doesn't matter anymore." He kissed his palm again, "You're going to be alright and you won't be in that kind of situation again. We're okay," Harry breathed.

"We're better than okay, I hope," Draco replied softly, almost a question.

"Better than okay," Harry affirmed with a nod and a smile.

And Harry was quite content to spend the rest of their (long) lives being better than okay.

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

Day 55: Music | Day 57: Text Message

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #angst #happy ending #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #Harry saves the day #hurt/comfort #cw: minor mention of blood

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villainess-supremacy · 3 years

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headcanons of the four lords celebrating pride for the first time with their s/o

notes: you told them that it's pride month and asked if they would like to celebrate with you. none of them have ever celebrated pride before. I made the lords and s/o queer because I can

type: sfw, gender and sexuality of the s/o are not specified

tw/cw: slight mention of alcohol, blood, lgbtphobes

requests: open

Alcina Dimitrescu

her daughters have mentioned pride month before, but she's not sure what it entails exactly

you gladly explain it to her in detail!

she loves the idea since she is fruity herself loves celebrating for such a wonderful reason

you being part of it makes it so much better

and a whole month?? she's in

she would love to go to pride events with you, but she's afraid other mortals will be scared of her due to her height so you decide to just have your own celebrations in the castle

you love watching movies together so you show her all of your favorite queer movies and shows

you bought a pride flag to hang up below the balcony in the entrance hall

she loves the smile on your face when you proudly look up at it

"maybe we should extend pride to be all year if it makes you this happy, my love."

she already regularly gives you presents, but during the entirety of pride month she additionally leaves little gifts for you in your shared bedroom, the kitchen and all of your favorite places in the castle

and that daily

if there is any queer owned shop you like she will literally buy their entire stock

if there are any charities you mention she will gladly donate in your name and give you the certificate as a surprise

she realizes that something about June just makes her want you even more in general, in the private chambers, whichever is up to you wink wink

as a surprise she decides to make a special wine without blood of course named after you and your sexuality/gender if you use labels, but in fancy Latin words

she loves to drink, but of course watches over you so you don't have too much

mortals don't process it as well as she does...

if you come across any lgbtphobes and are noticeably saddened she will be there to distract you right away

everyone who dares to make her love sad will feel her wrath! be ignored since they're not worth her time

but if she finds out that anyone in the village doesn't support you or anyone who is part of the lgbt community, they will be forced asked to vacate their home

she will pamper you and shower you with her love even more

you once jokingly say "be gay do crime and turn maidens into wine" and she makes it her new motto but she's serious about it

Donna Beneviento

she knows a couple things about pride since she reads a lot, but you're so excited to tell her about it she simply lets you talk

you'd love to go to pride events with her but she's too shy and tends to have anxiety attacks when around too many strangers so she sends Angie instead

afterwards she will gladly listen to both of you tell her all about it!

she has her own collection of books that have queer characters in them which she never told anyone about before you and will read all of them with you if you like

there will be regular dates picnics while Angie takes care of the house

she's a cottage core sapphic and pride month brings out that side of her more

she has made dolls for you before, but this time she makes one that looks just like you

it has a pride flag embroidered on the top above the heart

of course you love it!

you're so glad that she accepts every part of you

she will make one of herself with a similar outfit and a small pride flag as well so she can set them up in couple settings

ever since she found out about online shopping it has opened up a whole new world for her so she will definitely get both of you matching outfits or jewelry from an lgbt owned shop

you love doing arts and crafts together so you suggest making bracelets for each other, either color coded or with letters

Donna's house has a flagpole she hasn't used in decades, but for you she'd gladly call for maintenance if it turns out it's unusable after all these years to hang a pride flag

anything to make you happy!

if there are any lgbtphobes bothering you or your friends, she will be right there to comfort you and won't hesitate to send Angie and her other dolls she can control to deal with them

even if you tell her that it's fine and she should just ignore them she's great at distracting you so you wouldn't notice until it's done oops-

since she has no portable device that can access music streaming platforms, but knows the password to your phone she decides to steal it for a bit and makes you the softest playlist that you since then often play for comfort

Salvatore Moreau

he has spent decades almost completely separated from humans so he has no idea what pride month means, but instantly agrees to it because he loves you so much

he will agree to anything that makes you happy

you both sit down and he looks at you with puppy eyes while you tell him all about pride

he loves the idea of celebrating a group of people you both are a part of

he thinks you deserve your own month to be cherished and celebrated!

he may be a little awkward with expressing his feelings, but he sure knows how to prepare a romantic dinner

with mother miranda needing all of the lords a lot to assist her, he usually barely has time to prep food, but for pride month he does his best to cook for you every single day

part of his usual outfit is a cape to cover his back and a type of crown made out of bones and rope

he's not the best with his hands, but he makes a crown for you that resembles his anyway because you're his queen/king/majesty

you love it so much!

you want to give him something in return so you go to the village and visit the shop you know is lgbt owned and get him a custom necklace with a fish pendant that has your initials engraved

he literally bursts out in tears because he is so touched :c

when you started dating he initially was scared of what you would think about his giant fish form, but you turned out to be really impressed and love it and since you'd be tiny compared to him he suggests taking you on an adventure of sorts

meaning you sit on his back while he swims around the lake which is like a roller coaster ride but more wet

he leads you to a hut you never visited before and he shows you treasures he has collected when he was still mortal

he starts making a list of things you could do and stays up all night to complete it but ends up with so many activities and ideas to celebrate pride you'll have to extend pride month... by possibly years....

if he hears about anyone being mean to you he'll just encase them into the blobs of gooey mass he can make but you don't need to know about that, pride month or not

he has always wanted to propose to you so he might be able to work up the courage to hint at it by the end of June

Karl Heisenberg

of course he knows about pride month!

he knows more than you might think

he isn't considered the rebel child for no reason

in the past he has done some celebration for himself, but it was never anything too special

he thinks it's no fun alone and his experiments servants aren't much fun

sure he could program them, but unless it's to attack something they're not really... party animals

since he has you now he'll gladly give it another go!

he'd love to go to pride events with you, especially if you go to drag shows

he didn't know about them before you made him go to one

something about them fascinates him so much, he's more excited than you

he's not really into cooking, but nothing will stop him from making you a nice breakfast in bed

you always love watching him work on his machines because he likes to take off his shirt when he's hot seeing him do what he loves makes you happy

so he decides to gift you some robots to assist you with your everyday endeavors

it's not really necessary but of course you appreciate the gesture

it means more time to spend with him after all

he once sees you with a keychain that has a pride flag on it so he paints it on one of his machines that he uses more often

mostly he will end the day by having a drink and dancing with you

it's a celebration, so celebrate he will

if you're more in the mood for chilling on the couch he won't say no to watching some queer shows or movies

after working on his machines he has a way of just melting into your arms

if he sees you smile at certain scenes in movies he might attempt to do the same with you

of course you notice, but you definitely can't complain especially if you smile on purpose at the spicier scenes

anyone who will come between you and happily celebrating pride will be visited by Sturm banned from his factory and getting anywhere near you

he likes to name his subjects so he will start naming them after all of your favorite queer historical figures, activists and famous people in general

any smile he can get out of you is a win

a win for the gays you might say

when he was younger he may have had a phase of spraying graffiti around the village so you're not surprised when he goes around his factory and writes "be gay do crime" on several of his machines and doors

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magioftheseas · 2 years

Text

The Window In

Summary: The problem was that he broke into the wrong house.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Some blood/injury because don’t startle a stranger in front of their dog. Does Souda Being A Drunk Idiot classify as a warning?

Notes: This is one of those old WIPs and you can tell because the whole “breaking into my friend’s house seemed like a great idea while drunk but oops it’s their hot neighbor’s house” was only a popular prompt like...several years ago. Still, I thought it’d be fun to write it with Souda and Komaeda. But in the end I couldn’t firmly commit to Soumaeda when KomaHina still has my heart. So it’s a bit waffly so I hope you enjoy it nevertheless.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He was drunk and lonely and Hinata had just been so damn busy and stressed lately. Visiting him to offer his support was just what any soul friend would do, even if they had to break in to do so.

And even drunk off his ass, Souda knew how to pick a window lock so this wasn’t a problem. He had done so before—with his own windows mind you, when he lost or left behind his keys. Hinata would get angry, true—but he’d forgive his soul friend. He’d done so for stupider shit in the past.

Just a jiggle here, a jiggle there, and—yeah. The window clicked and it was go-time. As in time to go and open the window and not tumble in face-first. The last thing Hinata needs on his floorboards is bloodstains. Or something.

Souda does stumble in, but he lands semi-gracefully on his feet.

And then there’s a dog that comes bouncing in. A really cute dog. White. Fluffy. Still a bit of a puppy with some growing to do but being one of the larger breeds meant it was still more than an armful. Of floof.

Holy shit. Look at the way it tilts its head.

He doesn’t remember Hinata having such a cute-ass dog, and he’s so distracted that he almost doesn’t pick up on the sound of footpads.

Souda perks up to address his soul friend, and... Oh. No wonder that sly dog didn’t answer to his text—not because it was, ya know, one-ish in the morning and was probably sleeping at the time—no, it was because he had company. He was getting busy.

Though Souda was a bit stung that he didn’t know Hinata swung both ways—soul friends shouldn’t be so shy about something like their sexuality—still, he...couldn’t say he didn’t approve of his choice.

Said choice’s eyes were a soft gray-green, hair weirdly white and ruffled even though he couldn’t have been that much older than Souda if at all. But maybe that was because the male was pale—almost the whitest shade skin could be before going gray. Not like he wasn’t attractive though, because he was—those pretty eyes with long, delicate light eyelashes, the soft curves of his face, the overall porcelain complexion... Those features made him think wistfully of Sonia, as weird as it was.

So Souda approved. Hinata, questionable hair aside, made a good choice with this one. He even had nice bone structure from what Souda could tell, even with the male wrapped up still somewhat in a soft blanket, a white shirt, some gray gingham boxers...oh wow, those were some nice legs. Lush with smooth thighs and calves. Really good choice there, Hinata.

The other frowned a bit, Souda admiringly noting he looked like a pretty doll with such a face and... “I’m calling the police.”

Wait a minute. “W-Wait a minute!!”

Maybe lunging at the other was a bad idea—screw that it was a terrible idea, especially since the dog decidedly didn’t like him ‘attacking’ its owner and bit his leg for it. Souda screeched and the other quickly stepped out of his way and would have dove for the phone on the other side of the room. Souda, pain shooting through his leg on top of everything, panicked.

“W-Wait, no! It’s cool! I’m Hinata’s friend! Hasn’t he told you about me?!” Admittedly, probably not. But the white-haired man did stop, perking up at the name, and then... The expression Souda had been given for his troubles was even wearier.

“Hinata-kun has friends like you?” Okay. Ouch. “Lucky, get the creep go.”

Double-ouch. Souda winced at that and the throb from ‘Lucky’ releasing him from his maw, crumbling to the floor with a grunt and his hands instantly going to the injury. That weary look was tinged with mild pity, and the stranger sighed before telling him to wait.

Seeing as Souda had no intention of moving around with a bleeding leg, he did so and the other went and fetched a first aid kit.

“Lucky isn’t diseased or anything so it’s not that serious,” he muttered, opening it up and rolling Souda’s pant leg up to observe the bite more carefully. Souda winced. “I would apologize but seeing as your idiocy got you into this mess...”

“Geez man, I get it.” Souda snorted and that received an unamused stare. Souda just ignored that and continued, “Hinata’s already going to scold me when he gets here so you don’t have to lay it on so thick...”

“That’s another thing. Hinata-kun lives across from me—he doesn’t live here.” At Souda’s dumbfounded look, he just sighed again. “We’re neighbors and often wash laundry on the same day. Hinata-kun struck me as a bit unimpressive but generally reliable to have around. It’s good that he’s your friend but I really pity him if you’re his friend.”

Souda couldn’t help but get defensive. “Hey man, Hinata’s not unimpressive.”

...That actually got him a smile. “I’m Nagito Komaeda, by the way.”

And that was their first meeting. Souda would’ve introduced himself too but he was too busy screaming because Komaeda got right to work dumping alcohol on his leg.

That was their first meeting.

Yeah, so.

Remember when it was brought up that Hinata had been under a lot of stress lately?

“Oh my god, Komaeda, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Just how deeply Hinata bowed was enough to make Souda’s gut churn. Hell, Hinata was just a wire away from throwing himself to the floor with how apologetic he was for his idiot friend’s behavior.

Komaeda, for what it was worth, gave a dainty laugh although that might’ve been from Lucky trying to lick Hinata’s face off. Hinata squinting through that—was admittedly pretty amusing. Souda might even grin if he wasn’t too busy stewing in not only his drunken mistakes but also his damn hangover. In addition to his stomach churning, his head was hammering. It would’ve been worse if Komaeda hadn’t gotten him a glass of water.

Komaeda let him stay the night—which is to say that he left Souda be after he passed out from the pain. By the time Souda woke up, Hinata was already groveling, and like—Hinata was such a good friend. The best pal that anyone could ever ask for, and damn did Souda, uh...

...really...fuck up.

“Really, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda was saying. “The one apologizing should be Souda-kun.”

All Souda could do was let out a long-suffering groan.

Even so, can’t you give a guy a break?!

“I am sorry, though,” Komaeda said next. “Lucky bit him so I had to bandage him up. Even if it is his own fault for breaking in, I can’t help but feel bad. Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fiiiine,” Souda cut in before his soul friend could answer. “J-Just as long as...as there stops being like, four of you...”

He had to squint but he’s pretty sure Hinata’s brow is pinching up the way it does whenever the guy’s grimacing. Such an obvious guy, that Hinata. If he ever did decide to date, Souda would know. Because. They’re like, soul friends.

His head really did fucking hurt.

“While you’re here, I can order breakfast to be delivered,” Komaeda said, looking like a dancing cotton ball as Souda struggled to keep his eyes open. “Souda-kun should probably rest a bit more.”

“Yeah...” Hinata agreed and why did the guy look—a little redder than usual? “Thanks, Komaeda.”

“It’s not a problem!” Ah, Komaeda was laughing. Looked really happy. Looked a lot like Sonia.

With a soft whimper, Souda squeezed his eyes shut. Unfortunately, his skull still felt like it was being drilled into. Another cup of water was pushed into his hand and all he could do was slur out, “Y-You really are such an angel.”

With a hiccup, he downed the drink and flopped back down.

“Oh. He passed out.”

“He sure did. Uh...don’t take what he said too seriously.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Komaeda laughed, leaving Souda to be sniffed at by Lucky as he snoozed away. He fetched his phone, opening up the app.

Hinata watched him fiddle around, took in that pensive purse of Komaeda’s lips.

“He...” Hinata swallowed. “Souda’s not a bad guy.”

“A friend who commits crimes for you is a friend indeed,” Komaeda chirped. “By the way, did you want Japanese-style or something more Western? Eggs are good for hangovers, so...”

“You can get me the same thing you’re getting for Souda.” He waved his hand. “It, uh, doesn’t really matter.”

Komaeda’s head tilted but he nodded along and went with it, plugging in the order with a low hum.

Souda let out another groan. Lucky licked his cheek and he whined.

“Oh, Sonia-san,” he whimpered.

“Ex-girlfriend?” Komaeda guessed.

Hinata snorted. “She never gave him the time of day, actually. I guess he’s still not over her. I wonder why he...” Trailing off, Hinata stalled as Komaeda’s gray-green eyes pierced through his very being. With a swallow, he hurriedly looked away. “N-Not that I’m much better, I guess.”

“Well,” Komaeda said sunnily. “I’m glad you two have each other. Friendship is wonderful. Ah, and the food should be here shortly.”

“Thanks and, uh, yeah... Yeah.”

It had been the first time that Hinata had a real conversation with his elusive neighbor with the enigmatic eyes and the dreamy smile. He still couldn’t get a very good reading on him, but he couldn’t help but notice—as Komaeda cooed over Lucky, that for Souda...

Komaeda was giving him quite the look. And he gave Hinata a bit of a look, too, though he had the decency to get flustered when he saw Hinata staring.

Hinata couldn’t help but get flustered himself.

I really hope things don’t get more complicated than they already are, he thought as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

Unfortunately (?), such things were already decided.

#hajime hinata #kazuichi souda #nagito komaeda #soul friends #soumaeda #KomaHina #sdr2 #Magi fics #hinata hajime #komaeda nagito #souda kazuichi

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aries-writingblog · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes

Summary: When Sam gets injured on a mission, YN will do anything to fix her mistakes. While she worries about fixing Sam, Bucky picks up on her guilt. Picking up the pieces of herself she dropped in her frantic efforts.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2322

Warnings: panic/ anxiety, mentions of blood and character injury

AN: This was one requested by the lovely and wonderful @cherry-season who gave me so much inspiration to write! I hope I did it justice. Happy reading!! GIF is not my own, credit to original creator.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break free of its skeletal cage. Anxious adrenaline flowed in her veins as she paced. Hand rubbing across the back of her neck, impatiently waiting for answers.

It had been an hour since she and Sam returned from their mission. The mission that went completely and horrendously wrong. It started off fine- it started normal. Then it got twisted in a way YN couldn’t even comprehend.

She had been watching his back. She always watched her partner’s back. So what went wrong? What went so off rails- what did she do? How could she have let this happen?

“Miss LN?” YN’s head snapped to the source of the noise. A doctor- still in their surgery gear. She took a shaky inhale, her nerves were decimated. “Why don’t you take a seat- just… try to relax a bit.”

“How- how, where is Sam? Is he okay?” She demanded, moving a step toward the doctor. The woman eased her backwards, gently settling her into a chair. Latex covered fingers pried in between her own glove covered hands. Unclenching the tightly wound fists she had created.

The doctor gave a small, apologetic smile. It quickly fell, giving way to a pressed line of condolence. YN’s stomach plummeted, nausea crawling across her organs. Turning her stomach. Bile rising in her throat. She knew that look. It was the one she had to give to victims when they weren’t going to make it.

“There’s been a slight complication.” She reported quietly, her gaze soft as she studied the agent before her. She was unraveling and quickly. Hands shaking, goosebumps raising on her arms.

“I don’t understand,” YN swallowed, throat aching as her nose burned. Eyes watering from unshed tears. Blurring her eyesight. She blinked them back roughly. “You said you would fix him- what complication?”

“Both kidneys were compromised during the mission- he made it here just in time for us to stabilize him but he is going to need a rapid organ donation to survive.” The doctor informed steadily, keeping her voice even and low. YN’s fingers curled again, trapping her hands between her own. The doctor didn’t blink, unfazed by the strength in her grip. “It’s a difficult task but we have everyone we can working on finding at least one quickly. It’s more complicated due to his blood type- we haven’t been able to find anything available nearby.”

YN sniffled, her nose stuffing up as water slipped down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste coating her tongue.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It had been an easy mission- what did she screw up? Why did it have to be Sam? It should’ve been her, she should’ve-

Her eyes snapped up, meeting the doctor’s concerned features. She could still do something. It wasn’t too late. YN released her hold, wiping across her face. Erasing the remnants of her distress. Her bottom lip trembled but she forced the sentence out anyway.

“What’s the type?”

“He’s O positive.” The doctor didn’t hesitate in a response.

A heavy weight began to lift from her chest, she swallowed back the rough, scratchy feeling in her throat.

“I’m O negative- does that work, can that match? I’ll give whatever he needs.” Her words tripped over themselves, rushing out. Any way to compensate. She was the one who got Sam hurt, she was responsible. She should clean it up.

The doctor’s face brightened almost instantaneously, her eyebrows lifting. Eyes wide.

“It can-“ She cut herself off, pulling YN to her feet. “We need to run a tissue sample test to make sure that you’re compatible. While it’s running, fill out the paperwork just in case.”

YN rushed after the woman, hurrying through the hallways. She could save Sam. The guilt burned in her chest, sinking to meet the rising anxiety in her stomach. Creating a turbulent, vile mixture of self loathing. It had to match… this has to work. Otherwise… she would forever be known as the person who killed Sam Wilson.

~~~~~~

The first thing she became conscious of was a tense pressure on her hand. Then came a muted, muffled noise. It was familiar, albeit distorted and distant. A small groan fell from her lips. In response, the pressure became more intense. A firmer hold. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her head felt light, as if it was floating a thousand feet above her body.

“There she is.” YN turned her head as far as possible, which wasn’t much distance, eyes cutting the rest of the way. She tried to clear her vision, blinking to wear the groggy remnants of sleep away. “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, throat scratchy and dry. Bucky released his hold, standing to pour a glass of water for her.

“Well, it’s to be expected.” He sighed, stepping closer to her bedside. He grasped her chin gently, angling the lip of the cup to her mouth. Tilting the glass slowly, allowing her time to swallow the water down greedily. “Unlike a major surgery cause, there’s no need to tell the people you love you’re having surgery. Especially not if it’s emergent.”

YN’s lips quirked at the corners. She hadn’t really been thinking of anyone but Sam in the moment. It all happened so fast, the whole day seemed to have been but a blur in her memory. She couldn’t recall details, her thoughts crashed against a hazy wall as she glimpsed back.

“Sorry… didn’t really know what was happening until it did.” She spoke slowly, words felt like molasses on her tongue. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, gently brushing her hair back before returning to his previous seat at her bedside. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“I understand…” He told her, a soft smile playing on his features. There was a melancholy glimmer in his irises. They betrayed him, as usual. “I was just scared that you… left.”

All Bucky had received was a phone call from the medical wing. Just that he was written down as YN LN’s emergency medical contact and that she had been in surgery. Granted, it had mainly been his fault- he didn’t listen any further for more details. The phone dropped from his hand and he bolted from their shared apartment. Rushing frantically toward her. Panic sloshing, ripping into his chest. Shredding his last hopes of sanity as his thoughts raced.

YN moved her fingers up to his wrist, the bass of his heartbeat thumped prominently into her own body. In response, Bucky’s fingers curled over her wrist, searching for the same feeling. It was slightly weakened, her heartbeat, but it was there. She was alive. A gentle, sleepy smile appeared on her lips. Eyes almost closed again.

“I’m never leaving.” She promised, applying pressure to his wrist. Bucky returned the smile and the gesture, the knot of emotion in his throat unraveling in steady increments. Allowing him to breathe easier.

He reached over, tugging her blankets back up with his free hand. Over her torso in an attempt to contain some of the heat the flimsy hospital sheets provided. He sniffed, clearing his throat. Turning his face away from her view.

“Get some rest, daredevil.” Bucky instructed, sliding his chair closer. Head resting beside their entwined hands. His blue eyes twinkled with tears he had kept bottled away. All YN wanted was to reach over and brush them away but she felt unconsciousness creeping up from behind. Waiting to drag her back into the darkness. Her mouth wouldn’t open, tongue wouldn’t move. Her eyes drifted closed; her last picture was Bucky’s beautiful face resting beside her.

~~~~~~

Bucky sighed gently, curling closer into the warmth she provided. They couldn’t sleep like they used to. He was accustomed to wrapping around her like a vine, keeping her body close to him. The weight, the pressure and warmth, kept him present. Kept him calm. Even if he awoke in a panic, which had eased in the past few months, the feeling of YN’s figure pressed to his always seemed to relieve his frazzled, frayed nerves.

But now, after the surgery, he couldn’t hold her the way he wanted. He couldn’t provide the comfort he craved to give her. And she needed it. He wasn’t blind. Bucky knew exactly why she had rushed into that surgery. The blame that she had placed on herself was too vast. Much too heavy for her to bear alone.

So he tried to convey the comfort in other ways. Helping her to the bathroom and to the shower. Making her meals and sitting with her while she ate. Reading to her, going through as many pages as it took for her to fall asleep. Keeping her distracted from her bed rest. Bringing her presents, mostly just notes that Sam had written and asked Bucky to deliver.

Sam didn’t blame her. Especially not after she saved his life like she did. Bucky had visited when he woke up, explained the situation. How she felt, how it was eating away at her. And he couldn’t get out of bed yet- he was still being heavily monitored by the medical staff. So, for the past few weeks he had resorted to video calls and notes to her. An attempt to cheer her up. Bucky was relieved to see it was working.

“Buck?” YN’s voice was muffled by their shared comforter. He hummed in response, not fully committed to the idea of waking up. His senses were still slightly dull, lulled into submission by the warm body at his side. “Your arm is really heavy and I really have to pee.”

Bucky grunted, shuffling to slide his arm away from her hips where it had lain. YN shimmied over to the edge of the bed, groaning as she pushed her weight over the side. She stumbled, her hand pressed to the gauze padding on her abdomen. Bucky scrambled out of the bed, sheets tangling around his ankles.

“You’re not suppose to do it on your own.” He grumbled, his tone was sleep- laden. His eyes weren’t even fully open yet. YN scoffed, accepting his arm anyway. Together, they crept toward the bathroom slowly, most of her weight against his side. “You coulda asked, doll.”

“I can handle going to the bathroom by myself, Bucky.” YN insisted, her side glare was fatal. Eyes narrowed and full of frustrated fury. “You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“But I want to.” He replied simply, leaning against the doorframe, gazing into the bedroom to give her privacy. He didn’t need to, he had already been witness to every inch of her skin. Every mark on her skin, every freckle and scar. But he figured she would appreciate it none the less. Give her a controllable amount of autonomy. “I like doing it.”

It was the honest truth. Bucky reveled in the fact that every ounce of his attention was placed on her and her alone. He liked to care for her. He liked making her coffee and meals, helping her up and down. It was something he knew the old Bucky did often. The old Bucky took care of Steve when he was sick, and Steve’s mother when he could help. When his sisters were under the weather. It was something engraved in his bones: caring for those he loved. Providing comfort.

“It’s rotten work.” YN’s voice was quiet, the running water almost drowned the words out. But Bucky heard them. He turned slowly, giving her a hand towel to dry her hands. Her eyes were down, staring at the fabric between her fingers. Taking her time, hoping he would move past her sentence.

“Not to me,” Bucky responded. His fingertip brushed against her cheekbone, wisps of her hair passing through his fingers. He tucked them gently behind her ear before tilting her chin up. Persuading her watery eyes to meet his. He smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes portraying the overflowing kindness he couldn’t vocalize. “Not if it’s you.”

YN chuckled, a weak smile on her lips. Shaking her head, she carefully shuffled forward. Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Bucky’s response was instant. Instinctively holding her delicately to his body. Molded against the other. He inhaled deeply, the smell of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. YN pressed closer, the swell of his chest was achingly comforting. His t- shirt soft against her cheek.

“What do you say, I steal a wheelchair and we go up to Tony’s floor. We can bribe his chef to make some of those pancakes with the…” Bucky’s nose scrunched, brows furrowing. His fingertips that had been tracing shapes on her back stilled as he wracked his brain. Mouth twisting with frustration when he came up blank. “What’s the… those color things, again?”

“Sprinkles?” She suggested, pressing her chin to his chest. He glanced down, their noses almost pressed together. Bucky grinned, leaning forward to smack a kiss to her nose.

“Those. How bout we get some of those and we can meet Sam for breakfast?” He asked, squeezing her hips lightly. She nodded, successfully distracted from her thoughts that had been rampant in her head.

“Can he eat those yet? Isn’t he on, like, a hospital diet or something?” YN inquired, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Bucky hummed, helping her hobble out of the bathroom. He had tried carrying her places but she vehemently disagreed. Claiming she would never get better if she didn’t exercise. Eventually, as always, she would get tired and most of her weight would be on him anyways. He didn’t mind it.

“That sounds like a Sam problem.”

“You’re ridiculous, James Barnes.” He grinned at her laughter. His fingertips digging into her side teasingly.

“It’s all for you, sugar. All for you.”

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

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

no grave can hold my body down – 1/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better.

Word Count: 5,500

A/N: I am very new to this fandom and extremely nervous to write something for it. To clarify, I have not read any of the comics. But I’ve watched a lot of the TV and movie adaptations, and have done a lot of research. Jason is much older in this – like 30? – and therefore the rest of the BatFam is older, as well. But this takes place after Jason Todd is resurrected, but is still on rocky territory with his family.

Jason dropped down to the fire escape of his apartment with a quietness that seemed impossible for how large he was.

On the other side of the small fire escape, Y/N sat with a blanket over her lap, a book in her hand, and a mug of coffee balanced perfectly on the metal grates.

“Thought I told you not to wait up for me,” Jason greeted, knowing she noticed his arrival, but just kept reading her book. His book, to be precise.

It was almost 4AM and Jason had called it a night after taking out an entire drug cartel. It had been a lot of waiting, until it finally led up to 20 minutes of utter chaos. He left them on a silver platter for the police to arrest them and actually clean up the mess.

Y/N finally looked up at him and he saw how tired her eyes seemed. But she gave him a soft smile, clearly happy to see him home and...alive.

A pang of guilt went through him. He did that to her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she told him with a shrug.

Jason slowly nodded. Then he nudged his head towards the book, “Jane Eyre again?”

She smirked. “It’s a comfort read.”

He smiled back at her – which she couldn’t even see, because he was still wearing the red helmet that covered his entire head.

“You shouldn’t stay out here so long. It’s too cold.”

“I was waiting for you,” she countered.

“I thought you couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t…because I was worried about you,” she finally admitted.

There it was.

“You have a voicemail on your cellphone. Alfred called,” she quickly added to change the subject.

Jason left his personal cellphone at home when he was on patrol, not wanting any sort of pointless distractions. Y/N had a direct line to his comms if there was an emergency, which was the only thing he cared about. His old family could figure out ways to contact him if they really wanted to. But he didn’t go out of his way to give them that info.

“Get inside before you catch a cold,” he told her as he nodded toward the open window.

She chuckled at his attempt to sound stern. It was hard for her to take it seriously. But she listened to him anyway, knowing that if she tried to ignore him, it would end in him dragging her inside. And that was not a physical battle she ever had a chance at winning.

30 minutes later, Y/N was laying in bed and still reading her book as Jason tried to erase the night.

He always took long, scolding showers after patrol. Even if there was no blood to be washed away, there was always a need to cleanse himself of…something.

Y/N had asked him if he was hurt as she crawled through the window back inside their apartment.

“I’m fine,” he’d insisted.

But she knew “fine” just meant he didn’t need stitches, or bones reset, or the need to call the actual doctor he had a certain under-the-table deal with. She also knew she shouldn’t be surprised when he took off his clothes and she would see new bruises and shallow cuts covering his skin.

Jason finally crawled into bed with nothing but his black briefs. His hair still wet from the burning shower he just took.

He let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling.

It was always a battle for Y/N, trying to figure out when to leave Jason to his thoughts and when to force him to talk. She knew he couldn’t drown himself in his own mind. But she also knew she couldn’t pretend to be his therapist.

“J?” She asked him softly as she put her book down.

“Hmm?” He asked, looking at her.

“You OK?”

He nodded.

She let it be.

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Alfred has a foundation to raise money for under-funded schools in Gotham. It’s all him, but it has Bruce’s name all over it so all the rich assholes will want to save face with the Wayne family by donating.”

“I can support that type of manipulation,” Y/N said with a smirk.

“He holds a gala at Wayne Manor for it every year. Gets them at least a mil every time.”

She listened closely.

Then Jason looked at her again. “He asked me to come this year.”

“Oh,” her face fell.

Jason had told Y/N about his tumultuous relationship with his family. While he mended most of the damage with his brothers, he wasn’t quite willing to do so with Bruce. Y/N didn’t try to push Jason to reconcile with his adoptive father. She understood his heartbreak and frustrations there. She wasn’t a huge fan of Bruce herself after learning the damage he’d done to her boyfriend.

But it was because of the past traumas that Y/N hadn’t met any of Jason’s hodgepodge, vigilante family.

She also guessed that it was his overprotectiveness of her that stopped him from wanting to fully submerge her in that part of his life. To Jason, the less she knew about the Bat Family, the safer she was.

“He asked me to bring you, too.” Jason suddenly added.

Y/N blinked. “I…I didn’t realize they knew about me.”

He smirked at that. “Of course they do.”

“Even Bruce?”

His smirk disappeared. “Well, I didn’t tell him. But he’s a nosey son of a bitch. And even if he didn’t figure it out for himself, one of my brothers probably ran their mouth.”

Y/N didn’t think Jason and Bruce had a conversation out of uniform since he became the Red Hood. Probably hadn’t even addressed each other by their actual names in years.

Y/N fully turned on her side to face her boyfriend and scooted closer. “What do you want to do?” She asked carefully.

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he too turned on his side and stole a look at her. She looked so tired, but still beautiful. He knew he put her through too much. He didn’t deserve her. And she deserved a better man than he could ever be. He had guilt on his conscience, blood on his hands. He was the poster child for the harshness that was Gotham. She was a normal woman who would’ve never gotten mixed up in this world if it weren’t for him.

But Y/N insisted that she wanted to be here. Told him so by just staying each and every day, and never questioning her decision. Even left New York City to slum it in Gotham with him.

Jason brushed some hair away from her face.

“You’d come with me?”

Her face scrunched from him even feeling the need to ask. “Of course.” Then she gave him a sad look, “I’ve been wanting to meet your family for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.

Her eyes darkened. “You know why, J.”

He stayed silent.

“Listen, I know things haven’t been…good with your family. But I also know that they raised you. Whether you want to admit it or not, a lot of the man you are today is because of them. And I happen to love that man. So, yeah, I’ve wanted to meet them.”

Jason had a look full of love that he was trying to contain. “Come here,” he demanded with a grin.

Y/N giggled and moved into his arms.

Jason immediately pivoted her body so she was hovering over him. Without any hesitation, he pulled her down for a kiss.

“It’s gonna be filled with rich snobs and ass kissers. Don’t go hoping for a fun time,” he warned her as he narrowed his gaze playfully.

“Then you’re really gonna need me there. Who else is gonna make fun of them with you?” She teased.

Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Will this be a fancy affair?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her gaze darkened. “So, I’m gonna see you in a suit, huh?”

Jason pinched her sides.

Y/N yelped before laughing, “Do you even own a suit? I’ve never seen it in your closet.”

Suddenly he flipped her body so he was now the one hovering over her. Y/N couldn’t ignore Jason’s massive size when she was caged below him like that. “You’re on thin ice, kid.”

“Oooh. I’m so scared,” she mocked.

Jason almost looked offended.

But he sighed, getting back to the previous subject. “If I have to wear a suit, that means you have to wear a dress.”

“Or I could wear a suit, too.” She countered and raised a brow at him.

He smirked at her challenge. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one either.”

That seemed to please her.

“I promise I’ll look real pretty. Ya know, really play the part of the arm candy for the famous Jason Todd.”

Jason scoffed. “You’re always beautiful.” Then his gaze darkened. “And the arm candy was always Bruce and Dick’s thing. Not mine.”

“OK. So what should I be?”

“My accomplice,” Jason confirmed.

——————————————————

Y/N fidgeted in the back seat of the car as the black car drove to the outskirts of Gotham and to the Wayne Estate.

Jason had sent her a text from his patrol comms about something coming up. Vague, as always. He did it to keep her in the dark as much as possible.

Apparently he’d tried to tell Alfred they couldn’t make it. But the old man wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. He told Jason he’d send a car for Y/N and that he better show up too.

Y/N had worn her fanciest dress, curled her hair, and done her makeup to perfection. She knew she could dress the part, but it was the acting bit that had her stressed out.

Despite Jason’s relationship with his family, she still dreaded the thought that they wouldn’t like her and that they wouldn’t approve. Yeah, they were secretly vigilantes, but they were also the richest people in Gotham.

Y/N swallowed as the car parked right outside the front entrance of Wayne Manor. There seemed to already be hundreds of people there. Everyone looked rich and fancier than Y/N could ever even pretend to be.

‘You’re here for Jason. You’re here for Jason.’ She repeated in her mind as the driver opened the door for her and offered his hand.

Y/N told herself to become a character as she held her head high and made her way into the mansion.

“Mansion” didn’t even seem to cover it. Y/N felt like she was in a Jane Austen novel or Downton Abbey.

Guests eyed her as soon as she made her way inside. She was much younger than the general demographic of the party. It seemed that old money also meant literally old.

She did a once over to see if she could find Jason. But he was nowhere to be found. Y/N decided she needed a drink to face a gala full of unwelcoming strangers alone.

She ignored the curious and judgmental gazes as she made her way to one of the many bars set up through the home.

‘Maybe red was too much,’ her imposter syndrome was telling her. Clearly it was making her stick out. But she knew Jason loved seeing her in red.

Y/N quickly ordered a strong drink from the bartender, who was kind enough to sense that this young woman needed liquid courage and she needed it fast.

“Are you sure you meant to use that bottle?” A male voice came up beside her, speaking to the bartender on her behalf.

Y/N turned to see a very boyishly handsome man with blue eyes and brown hair so dark that it was almost black.

He gave that bartender a look and Y/N watched as he nervously grabbed the much more expensive brand – the one Y/N would never in her life buy for herself.

“Thank you,” Y/N said as politely as possible when the bartender slid the drink towards her.

Then she turned her attention to the young man. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He gave her a crooked smirk. “You deserve the very best.”

Y/N might not have ever met Jason’s brothers. But they were famous enough to make frequent appearances in the media. Everyone in Gotham knew what the Wayne kids looked like. Especially Dick Grayson, who seemed to thrive in the spotlight in a similar manner to his father.

“Oh? And how do you know what I deserve? You don’t know me at all,” Y/N challenged with a tilt of her head.

Her sass seemed to excite him.

“Well, I was hoping, since I saved you from the cheap stuff, that you’d give me a chance to.”

Y/N shook her head with an almost baffled smile. This faux charm and air of confidence was so unlike Jason’s. While Jason was quietly confident and sure of himself. It came almost from a place of nihilism. But Dick…Dick had an edge of haughtiness and self importance.

“Your reputation precedes you, Dick Grayson,” Y/N cooed, with mischievous glint in her gaze, before taking a sip of her drink. He was right: this was the good stuff.

Dick’s amusement seemed to falter now that she confessed to knowing exactly who he was. “And what reputation is that exactly?”

“Cocky, charming…flirtatious.”

Dick didn’t seem to mind these adjectives at all. In fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. He stepped a little closer to her. “It feels a little unfair that you seem to know me, but I haven’t even gotten your name.”

Y/N tried to suppress her smile. She was really starting to enjoy this little game. “You’ll realize soon enough.”

“Well, until then…” He stepped even closer and somehow managed to put his hand on her back without it feeling creepy. “Would you like to dance?”

“Move that hand any lower, Dick, and I’ll fuckin’ break it,” Jason said from behind Y/N.

Dick barely moved away from Y/N, but looked at his brother with confusion.

Y/N turned and maneuvered her body away from Dick’s grasp.

Then she smiled at Jason as she took in the sight of her boyfriend wearing a suit. Like, a real suit, not one made for a vigilante. He managed to tame his hair without using too much product. And his face had its signature scruff but cleaned up a bit.

“How long has this one been annoying you?” Jason asked her.

“Not long,” she replied before giving him a sweet kiss.

Y/N turned to face Dick again, but remained close to Jason’s side. On instinct alone, Jason placed his hand on her back and pulled her even closer. It wasn’t possessive, but a habit he formed to comfort himself.

Dick blinked as his mind clearly figured out the change in situation.

“You’re Y/N?” He asked her.

She smirked. “Told you that you’d realize it soon enough.”

“Dick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is, Dick Grayson.”

Y/N didn’t miss how Jason didn’t refer to Dick as his brother.

To his credit, Dick recovered rather quickly and politely offered his hand. Y/N didn’t hesitate to shake it. After all, she still wanted to make a good impression on his family. And the flirting was harmless.

“I apologize for…” Dick’s words died out.

“Hitting on me?” Y/N offered with a laugh. “I would say I’m flattered, but I’m sure I’m one of many women you will be making moves on tonight.”

“Do it again, and I’ll swap out the rubber bullets in my guns, Dick.” Jason half warned and half joked.

Dick seemed unfazed by the threat. “Why don’t you say it a little louder so more people can hear?”

Jason ignored his brother’s warning.

He turned his gaze down to Y/N. “Let’s go introduce you to Alfred.”

Jason held her hand as he made his way through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to do. Y/N assumed it had to do with him technically being a Wayne or perhaps it was his large and imposing frame that told people to get the hell out of his way.

Then Y/N was standing in front of an elderly man who had perfect posture and mischievous edge to his welcoming smile.

“Master Jason, I see that you have finally brought Ms. Y/L/N for me to meet,” Alfred said with a smile.

Out of all his siblings and father, Alfred seemed to be the only family member that Jason didn’t hold any sort of grudge against. Though Y/N wasn’t really sure what anyone would have against him. From everything she heard, he sounded absolutely lovely.

He held out his hand, which Y/N instantly went to shake. But instead, Alfred brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. There was something about this family that made everything they do seem charming rather than creepy and uncomfortable.

Y/N laughed at the gesture. “It’s so nice to meet you, Alfred. I’ve heard so much about you.”

He patted her hand before letting it go gently. “I wish I could say the same for you, dear. But it would appear Master Jason prefers to keep you entirely to himself.”

She just gave him a polite – yet controlled – smile. Another side effect of Jason being overprotective of her.

“Thank you for sending the car for me. You didn’t have to do that,” she told him.

“Oh, nonsense. I would not allow this one to use any excuse for missing tonight.”

Y/N asked him about his foundation with genuine interest. Alfred answered all of her questions with enthusiasm. She wondered how often Alfred got to talk about normal things with the Wayne family. She could only imagine the manor was entirely consumed with matters of vigilantism.

Alfred also asked Y/N far more questions about herself than she was prepared for. It made her realize that Jason really did keep her quite the secret. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be offended by it, but it made her sad that Jason’s family had clearly shown such an interest in her. Had she known, she may have put more pressure on Jason to introduce her.

There was a lull in conversation when Alfred’s gaze turned to Jason.

“Have you spoken with him yet?” He asked evenly.

They all know who ‘him’ was.

“I’m here for you, Alfred.” Jason quickly answered. “And we’ve kept you selfishly to ourselves for far too long. I’m sure everyone here wants to talk with you.”

Nice save.

Alfred dipped his head and lowered his voice, “Oh, you are two of the few people here whom I actually wish to converse with…” He finished with a wink before leaving them.

“And here I thought you got all your charm from Bruce Wayne,” Y/N teased her boyfriend.

But when she looked up at Jason, he had a dazed looked in his eyes.

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand in comfort. “You don’t need to talk to him if you don’t want to. In fact, we can go now if you want.”

Jason snapped out of it then. “And leave without destroying this open bar? Absolutely not.” Then he seemed to take her in for the first time that night. “Plus, you deserve to be shown off.”

He leaned down to her ear. “I was so distracted with saving you from Dick that I didn’t get the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight.”

No matter how many times he said things like that to her or made her feel this way, she still managed to blush at such compliments.

And for good measure, Jason sealed the praise with a kiss, lightly gripping her chin to make sure she didn’t escape too soon for his liking.

He barely pulled away from her lips when he smiled and muttered, “Come on. Let’s go steal ourselves a bottle of Dom Pérignon.”

“Jason,” she scolded in a whisper, “Those cost like $2,000!”

“Exactly.”

The next hour or so was filled with Jason and Y/N drinking champagne while standing in a corner that protected them from being interrupted. And Y/N did exactly as she promised: joking with Jason about all the stuck up rich people that just came to kiss ass and social climb.

They were laughing about an old man that was desperately trying to hit on a young woman half his age when someone politely cleared their throat beside them.

But Jason smiled at the interruption.

A young man, who couldn’t be older than his early 20s, was giving Y/N a delighted smile. However, the first thing she noticed were the shadows under his eyes and how tired he looked. But that didn’t stop his excitement from showing.

“Y/N, this is my younger brother, Tim Drake. Tim, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

With a dorky enthusiasm, he shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve all been annoying Jason about bringing you around for quite some time.”

She smiled, “So I’ve heard…” Then she gave Jason a subtle accusatory look.

Tim’s face turned serious, as if he just remembered why he came over in the first place. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Jason would you mind…umm…looking at something for me real quick?”

Jason’s back straightened.

Tim was trying to be polite to the two’s relationship by keeping out any and all details pertaining to their night life.

But it was clear to Y/N that was what Tim was referring to.

Jason looked down at her.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she teased him. “Go. I can entertain myself.”

He kissed her cheek and whispered, “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, please come rescue me.”

She chuckled. “I would, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find you...”

“I’ll bring him back in no time, Y/N. Promise.” Tim told her with a beaming smile.

Y/N watched them go and Jason gave her one last reluctant look over his shoulder before he disappeared around a corner.

Y/N sighed and poured another glass of champagne and told herself it was time to mingle. But when she looked up, there wasn’t a single person that looked like they had any interest in making new friends.

‘Some party this is,’ she thought to herself before abandoning her post and deciding to take herself on a tour of Wayne Manor.

Y/N decided she wanted to escape the curious and judgmental gazes of the party, and found herself in a darker hallway. Candles were lit everywhere, giving it a gothic semblance.

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened when she realized she’d discovered a hallway filled with artwork. Millions upon millions of dollars worth of artwork, to be precise.

She was glad no one else seemed to have wandered this far, for she could take her time to look at all of it.

“I think you might be the only guest of the manor who has ever taken the time to look at the artwork.”

Y/N jumped at the voice and turned to see the infamous Bruce Wayne watching her with what seemed to be amusement.

He was nearly as tall as Jason – nowhere near as stout, though. But that didn’t seem to matter because he had an intimidating presence that had Y/N realizing it made perfect sense that this man was also Batman.

She had no idea how long she’d been staring at the paintings. It was easy for her to get lost in art. It tended to consume her.

“Well, not everyone has a Caravaggio casually hanging in their home.”

Bruce chuckled at that.

“Sorry,” she quickly told him. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I feel like I’m at the Louvre.”

“Please,” he declined such an apology. “No one in that party could tell the difference between an oil and acrylic painting. It’s refreshing to meet someone who can appreciate art.” He paused. “Have you been?”

“Have I been where?”

“To the Louvre.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Umm...no, sadly. It’s been my dream to go to Paris in general. I don’t speak French, though. So I don’t know how that would work out.”

Bruce Wayne seemed to be listening closely and had genuine interest in what she was saying. Which felt strange to her for some reason.

Suddenly, Y/N felt like she shouldn’t be talking to him. Jason made it clear he had no intention of making peace tonight. So Y/N figured she was meant to keep her distance as well.

“I’m…” she began.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Bruce finished for her.

She raised a brow, unimpressed.

Of course Batman would know every single person coming into his home. He probably caught her lingering in this hallway from multiple hidden security cameras.

He reached out his hand. “Bruce Wayne.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between his fixed stare and his offered hand.

But it ended with her shaking it, nonetheless.

“Thank you for bringing Jason tonight. I have a feeling he would’ve never shown had it not been for you.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched in an attempt to stop herself from lashing out at Bruce.

Yes, Jason was protective of her. But Y/N was also protective of Jason.

It wasn’t the Wayne family that talked Jason out of the darkness. They weren’t the one who comforted him after his nightmares. They weren’t the one who kissed and touched the autopsy scars that he was ashamed of. They weren’t the one who made him realize he wasn’t a failure or a monster, that he was worth something.

That was Y/N.

And she wasn’t going to let any of them cause him to relapse.

“Did he tell you not to talk to me?” Bruce questioned.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Jason doesn’t tell me what to do.”

Bruce smirked at how she didn’t back down and met his confrontation with confidence. “You’re not too fond of me, are you?”

Y/N shifted her weight a bit, but kept quiet, not wanting to confirm or deny his suspicions.

“I’m not sure what Jason told–”

“He told me everything,” Y/N cut him off sharply.

Bruce tilted his head. “Surely not everything.” Proving that he knew Jason completely kept Y/N away from his vigilante and crime life.

Then Y/N lost her composure and took a step toward Bruce. “You call him your greatest failure,” she accused him.

“Because I let him down.”

“But it doesn’t matter how you meant it. How do you think that makes him feel?”

Bruce’s body tensed and his jaw tightened.

Suddenly a dog came running out of nowhere and nearly tackled Y/N. She managed to stay on her feet, but her glass of champagne was knocked from her grasp and shattered on the floor.

“Titus!” Bruce growled at the dog.

A second later, a boy came running.

“Damian, what did I tell you about keeping pets away from parties,” Bruce scolded.

“I apologize,” Damian told Y/N in a voice that should’ve belonged to an adult, rather than a pre-teen boy. But he seemed rather annoyed that he had to apologize to a stranger.

Y/N chuckled at the black Great Dane. She barely had to bend down to pet the giant dog. “It’s fine. Dogs are always my favorite people I meet at parties.”

Damian looked between his father and Y/N, immediately getting the sense that she was not the average party guest.

“Who’s she?” He asked bluntly.

“Damian, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Bruce gestured with an upturned palm.

“Todd’s companion?” Damian stated, clearly sounding unimpressed.

Jesus. They really did all know about her.

“Damian…” was all Bruce said to warn his son.

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“That’s enough, Damian.” Bruce snapped.

That finally got the boy to shut his mouth.

Y/N was about to tell both of them that it was fine. She had expected such greetings from Jason’s youngest brother.

But her attention was diverted when she noticed Jason standing at the edge of the hallway.

Bruce followed her gaze.

There was a stare down between the two men that felt like an hour to Y/N.

“Jason,” Bruce greeted steadily.

Jason looked at his family coldly. “Bruce,” he replied with even less emotion. Then he looked down at his youngest brother, “Demon Spawn.”

“Todd,” Damian spat back.

Jason’s gaze softened when it landed on Y/N. Ignoring the tension, he reached out a hand in her direction. “We should say our goodbyes to Alfred.”

Y/N nodded and walked to her boyfriend, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He quickly guided them back to the party without a second glance to Bruce and Damian.

As soon as they were in a mass of people again, Y/N turned to Jason to ask him if he was OK. A part of her felt guilty, like she’d been caught doing something bad by being alone with Bruce Wayne.

But Jason seemed to sense her concern and spoke before she could. “I’m stealing another bottle of champagne before we go,” and quickly went to the bar.

“He lasted longer than I expected,” Dick’s voice came up beside her.

Y/N barely glanced at him. “I’m proud of him,” was all she replied, as they both watched him.

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t give you the best first impression.”

Y/N fully turned to face him and laughed lightly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m sure you think we’re all just being polite…but all of us really were looking forward to meeting you, Y/N.”

“Even Damian?” She teased.

Dick laughed. “Well, rumor is that Titus took an immediate liking to you. And Damian trusts his pets’ judgement of character more than any of ours.”

News really did travel fast in this family.

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ve wanted to meet all of you for so long. I’m glad we finally made it happen.” She went back to their original topic.

Dick winced. “I’d rather not think about what Jason’s said about us…”

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” she countered.

“Ready to go?” Jason interrupted, ignoring Dick.

For good measure, he dipped down to kiss Y/N’s bare shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s go say bye to Alfred.”

But she turned back to Dick. And to everyone’s surprise, she wrapped him into a hug. Dick was surprised, but welcomed the gesture.

“Please keep an eye on him out there,” she whispered to him quietly enough so Jason didn’t have a chance of overhearing.

“Of course,” he told her.

————————

Bruce pretended to be listening to a conversation with old family friends as he watched Y/N and Jason hug Alfred goodbye.

He noticed Y/N say something to Alfred that made the butler’s face go serious. Then she handed him a business card.

Bruce wanted to talk with Jason. He’d been both dreading and looking forward to tonight, hoping a miracle would occur and he could finally mend things with his son.

But the way Jason had looked at him, Bruce knew everything he was feeling and it was clear Jason wasn’t going to let things go between them any time soon.

Bruce politely excused himself and went to Alfred’s side.

“What was that last bit about?” Bruce asked, indirectly telling Alfred that he’d been observing their conversation.

Now the two men both watched Jason and Y/N from a window that gave a view of the front drive.

Y/N threw her head back and laughed loudly at something Jason had whispered in her ear.

“She asked if I could teach her first aid.”

They both know it went much deeper than first aid. Y/N was asking Alfred to show her how to stitch wounds, how to extract bullets, when to know Jason was too hurt to be fixed up by his inexperienced girlfriend.

“She’s good for him,” Bruce thought aloud.

“That she is, Master Bruce.”

“I forgot what his laugh sounded like.” Bruce paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve never seen him smile like this. Not even before…” His words died. They both knew what ‘before’ was referring to.

Suddenly Y/N pointed to Jason as she walked backwards, clearly giving him a warning of some sort.

But Jason ignored her as he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around her thighs, securing her body to his chest, while the other hand held a bottle of champagne.

They could hear Y/N’s laughter, even from inside the mansion.

Alfred observed how Bruce watched his second son. “You must give him more time, Master Bruce.”

However, Bruce said nothing in return.

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

Part 2

Please, please, please let me know what you think. I will take constructive criticism on my characterization of Jason Todd, as long as it’s done nicely😅

[Also, I finally stopped being lazy and made my own header. 😂]

900 notes · View notes

writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

School House Blues

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Identifying Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Warnings: N/A

Request from Anon: Hey so I saw your post that said requests for certain characters were open and I was wondering if I could ask for a din djarin x plus size reader with this prompt please? : (19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. I was thinking the kid could be one of her students! Thank you so much in advance ♥️♥️

Summary: When the bounty hunter strolls into your little mining town you don’t think much of it, but with a little boy in his wake and your school house in disrepair, he becomes more than just a passing visit, but a welcome constant.

Notes: You know me too well, Western AU/historic AU Din is so good as a concept and ughhhhhh this was so wonderful to have requested and I hope desperately that it’s good!

Reader isn’t really specified as plus size just because it didn’t really come up in the story? Although she is described as being quite soft and sweet in appearance.

Archiveofourown

He comes into town with one hand clenched around his horse’s reins, guiding the bay and white creature with a bounty hogtied swearing and cursing over its rump, and the other hand holding a little boy of no older than six at his hip. It’s quite the sight, one that momentarily distracts you from your grief at the fact you’re teaching your children out of a saloon now since your schoolhouse was burnt to the ground.

He’s imposing or he would be if the little boy wasn’t smiling up at him with big brown eyes. It’s hard to be imposing when you’re clearly the world of a small child and it makes you smile from the porch of the saloon. You’d been organising the boxes of donations the townsfolk had put together, since all your books, slates, chalk, paper, pencils, and the like had burnt in the fire, when he strolls past. He glances over at you and tips his head, hat dipping over his chestnut eyes and it flusters you for a second when you finally see his face.

He’s handsome, incredibly so, too handsome to be in your small mining town you think. Deep brown eyes, a prominent nose and plump lips set in a perpetual pout. His jaw is sharp and his beard and moustache are trimmed neatly, despite the bruising on his face and the layer of dirt from the road he’s truly beautiful, a thought that flusters you further. The small boy sat comfortably at his hip and playing with the fabric of his suspenders is adorable, soft round cheeks and large brown eyes, but he doesn’t look much like the man and you’re curious what the story is there.

The boy is old enough to be in school with you, to sit and learn his letters and to read while the older kids move on to learning about science, history, mathematics and poetry. There are a couple of children his age in your class, Timmy and Mary-Beth, both just getting the hang of gripping a pencil correctly. You wonder if he won’t be joining your class soon or if he and his guardian will be out of town before you can even consider preparing for a new student.

You watch the man hitch the horse outside the Sheriff’s office, the one that’s not got a sheriff at the moment. You hope he’s not looking for quick pay, the lawman that resided in the Sheriff’s office at the moment was just there until they could find a new sheriff. He’d have to telegram out to get the bounty money. Your last sheriff had up and left after being shot at by a couple of drunk miners, he’d decided that was enough and quite the same day. The town had been a little more unruly since and it was beginning to make you and some of the other townsfolk uneasy without someone to keep the peace. The temporary lawman had been lazy and uninvolved thus far. It was after the sheriff quit that your schoolhouse burnt down and you weren’t sure it was coincidence.

You watch the man place the boy on his feet and say something quietly to him before brushing his hair fondly. He grabs the bounty off of the horse, and slings the man over his shoulder. It’s impressive that he doesn’t struggle up the steps to the office even with a fully grown man thrown over his shoulder, the little boy follows after him as he goes inside.

You return to your organisation. There aren’t that many books, not like you used to have. But, while you wait for some of your teaching associates across the country to send you items, they will do. There’s enough paper and some slates for all your students to practice their writing and get their work written down which is a relief and even a globe that the general store owner, Mr Hewitt, had found in a back cupboard for you to have.

You’re trying to lift one of the boxes of books when he comes back out again, the little boy still trailing behind him, but this time something shiny is pinned to the man’s blue shirt. You don’t think too much about it as you struggle to lift the box, your heavy skirts not helping you move much, hindering your progress and causing you to trip each step forward you take.

You hear his boots on the wooden stairs before you see him, he towers over you, as he takes his hat off, more polite than most men in town. You get a better look at the shiny thing pinned to his shirt and realise it’s a sheriff’s badge. The same one the old sheriff used to wear, you look from it to him and then down when you hear a little giggle. The little boy is still following after him, a sweet smile turned on you this time as he leans around the man’s legs to watch you.

“Miss, I can take that.” He gestures to the box in your hand, it’s not a question, and it’s straight and to the point. But, you’re grateful for the offer and hand it off to him without complaint. He’s stronger than you, that’s clear to see, his arms thick from years of hard work.

“Thank you…” You wait for him to tell you his name, trailing off as you lead him into the saloon that has been set out for the school day. There is a black board at the front, tables and chairs littered around the room, the liquor shelves have been emptied for books to replace them.

The fact that Mr Karga had offered the saloon for the school was a miracle and while many in town grumbled about their favourite place of vice no longer admitting them during the day time, most were supportive of the decision to help the kids continue their school. Nevarro wasn’t a large town and mining was its main source of income, but the children deserved a chance to do more than just become miners and the school helped them do that. You helped them get into colleges on scholarships, to find jobs as clerks and apprentices in other parts of the country.

“Din Djarin.” It’s a nice name, rolls of his tongue like honey. He doesn’t smile, not really, not properly, but there’s a little crinkle at the corners of his eyes that soften his face and make him seem warmer somehow.

“And this little one?” You smile at the little boy as he begins to bravely step out from behind his guardian to greet you with a smile. He is a quiet boy, not the usual talkative sort you find with a six year old, but who knows what he’s been through even at this young age.

“Grogu, he’s my…” He furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard on the right word. That alone tells you he is not his son by blood, a small fact that makes him even more interesting. Not many bounty hunters would take in a small child. “Son.” he finally says. Deciding it is the best term. Grogu isn’t his by blood, Din knows this, but the little boy he’d found all alone surrounded by death, was slowly becoming like a son to him. Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more than blood.

“Will he be joining my class? I run the school, currently we’re based here...in the saloon. Not my ideal place to teach but needs must.” You gesture around you to the makeshift classroom. You don’t like that the place still stinks of liquor or that at night it goes back to being a saloon where people drink, gamble, and fight. But, you don’t have a better place right now and the children need somewhere to learn. You can teach in any building, even if you dislike this one.

You fit the image of a school teacher he thinks. You look like a respectable young woman, dressed appropriately, all neat and proper. Your hair pulled up and pinned away like it’s supposed to be. Everything about you is proper. Part of him wants to see you become ruffled, stop being so demure. It’s a thought that makes him frown at himself, the thoughts inappropriate especially towards a lady like yourself.

“Yes. We’ll be staying for awhile. What happened to the school house, Miss…?” He took on the job as sheriff the moment the lawman offered it, the pay was good, gave him his own accommodation and it meant he could settle down for a bit, give the kid an actual childhood. Bounty hunting was something he was good at but it wasn’t exactly safe to do with a six year old in tow. At least this job used his skills catching lawbreakers and put them to use in a place the kid could grow up. It helps that the teacher of the town is pretty too, he thinks.

You give him your name before answering his question, “Well, after the last sheriff quit, the schoolhouse burnt down and along with all the things we had in it. Luckily it was at night and none of us were in the building. Burnt right down to the ground, nothing left…” You say it with a heavy sigh, thinking of that sweet little schoolhouse. The white painted wood, the familiar rows of desks with names carved in them, your favourite collection of university level texts at the back for the older and more advanced kids to explore. You had been teaching in that schoolhouse for the last five years and in a way it had become a second home for you, if you weren’t at your own little home, then you were in the schoolhouse marking work or planning lessons for the coming days.

“Anyone know what caused it?”

“No. We didn’t exactly have the mind to investigate and if it wasn’t an accident it was probably just some drunk who didn’t know any better. But, we make do and Grogu,” You crouch down next to the small child, moving your skirts to do so comfortably, “will fit right in, I think, don’t you?” The little boy smiles at you and giggles, before hiding behind his father’s leg again.

“Have any plans been made to rebuild the schoolhouse?” Sheriff Djarin it seems is very straight and to the point, his tone isn’t unkind or aggressive, but his words are clipped, short, brusque as if he’s not quite used to being more flowery or saying much. You supposed a bounty hunter didn’t typically need to say much, but you hope he’ll become more comfortable with talking, at least to you, as time goes on.

“No...i’ve been trying to put some pressure on the mayor to get it done but...he just doesn’t seem to care all that much now there’s a temporary solution.” You say as you begin unpacking the box that he brought inside, exercise books are brought out and sorted into piles, ready for the children to write their names on the covers and start afresh.

He frowns, brow furrowing deep, lips turned down at the thought of the schoolhouse just never being rebuilt. It’s clear to him that saloon isn’t the place for a school and it’s even clearer that you are distressed with your new working arrangement, that you miss having a building that is entirely your own and entirely dedicated to teaching young minds.

“I’ll sort something out. Is class starting soon?”

“Yes, not...not long now.” You double check the clock realising the kids will begin arriving in less than an hour and you feel wholly unprepared for the first day of school since the schoolhouse burnt down.

You watch him crouch in front of Grogu, hand ruffling his hair fondly, “You’re going to stay here today, get some learnin’ in ya. I’ve got things to do, but I'll be back later, promise.” You’re surprised and warmed when he puts out his pinky finger for the kid to grab, a little promise that seems to you like something more. You wonder if the boy was scared of being left again, if this was Din’s way of reassuring his new son that he wasn’t going to leave him. The little boy wraps his whole hand around Din’s pinkie not quite understanding how the promises work yet.

“Have a good day of teaching, Miss Y/N.” He nods his head at you, grabbing his hat as he walks out the saloon with a purpose. The hat is placed on his head the moment he’s out of the doors and it’s that little element of politeness that surprises you. He carries himself like a gentleman but looks like any other rough and tumble man wandering the west. But it’s his treatment of Grogu that confirms the sort of man that he is.

I’ll sort something out. You smiled to yourself realising that perhaps the new sheriff would be the best thing to happen to this town in a while. Someone who actually got things done for once.

“Do you want to find your seat? Maybe do some drawing before class starts, Grogu?” You ask the little boy smiling at him as he nervously shifts from foot to foot, looking back out the doors as if hoping his father would walk back in. It’s clear he hasn’t had to do this before, be separated from him and left with a stranger, but you put on your softest smile and gentlest voice and wait patiently for him to nod his head before offering him your hand.

He takes your hand and you help him get settled into his seat, you decide to put him near the front so you can help him easily and get him settled near you. He only knows you after all, and you think being around all the kids and far away from familiarity might be too much. You give him some paper, scrap bits that you don’t need anymore and a pencil leaving him to draw while you get ready for class.

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

The school day goes...well, it’s hectic and your hair is frizzy and falling out of the updo you styled it in that morning by the end. The children are unsettled in this new environment, the older kids, those nearing adulthood frustrated by the younger kids who can’t seem to focus or be quiet. Your brain feels too large for your skull and you sigh out a goodbye to your students as they leave out the saloon doors, one or two shoving through the swinging shutters much faster than needed.

Grogu is the quietest of your students, sweet and attentive, he doesn’t speak a word, but follows your instructions well. He is behind on his writing letters and reading, that much you know from working with him, but he’s a quick learner and applies himself with a determination you rarely see. He doesn’t always play well with others. At lunch time you’d noticed him stealing food from the other children. It continued despite giving him your own lunch knowing his father hadn’t had time to prepare him something after coming straight into town and getting to work. He doesn’t share well either, but seemed to understand when you sat him down and talked to him about it. You suppose that being away from other children and only travelling with your father figure who would share his food with you without a thought, it must be confusing. The manners that he now has to observe, the rules of society that he’s never had to worry about until now. He looks suitably admonished despite the gentle way you chose to talk about it with him, that alone makes you think he’ll likely stop stealing the children’s cookies and be more willing to share.

“David, careful!” You call out when one of your older students nearly gets trampled underneath the sheriff’s horses’ hooves as he runs across the thoroughfare without looking.

“Sorry, miss!” David calls back over his shoulder, still storming ahead your warning lost on him.

You sigh heavily and rub at your temples, stress enveloping you. A tug, swift and sharp on your skirt has you looking down. Grogu has a hand fisted in the fabric, pulling to get your attention. Once he has it, his arms open, hands up towards you, opening and closing, a universal gesture to be lifted.

It surprises you, he is...quiet and reserved. You expected time to be needed before he was comfortable with you in any respect, especially after having to tell the boy off. Instead, he lets you lift him to your hip, hands reaching for strands of your hair and twisting them, surprisingly gently between his chubby little fingers.

You watch your students run in different directions through town, their books and lunch pails in tow. Some stop on the open green, playing games together before their parents demand them back home for dinner. The warm little body in your arms is a soothing presence and the boy almost looks like he wants to say something, but just makes a soft cooing sound instead.

“Not much of a talker are you, little one?” He almost shrugs his little shoulders before looking up at the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking spurs. The sheriff leads his horse up to you, eyes following David with a shake of his head. Clearly, just as bemused as you at his lack of common sense.

Grogu smiles and giggles happily at the sight of his father, arms reaching out for him. You pass him over to Din, trying to ignore how close you get to the man to do it. He radiates warmth and smells woodsy mixed with some sort of soap he must use. This close you can see little birthmarks dotted across his neck.

You step back once the boy is settled in his arms and smile, soft but tired. “Sheriff, how was your first day on the job?”

He gives you a humoured smirk, one you’re not expecting, it takes you aback slightly. He looks...charming, approachable. Little dimples at his cheeks that soften his features in a way that makes you want to step closer. With a huff, not quite a laugh, he says, “Eventful.”

“That makes two of us, sheriff.” He notices the tired creases beneath your eyes, the once unrumpled appearance now dishevelled, hair coming out of its updo and blouse and skirt wrinkled and creased. You look like you’d had a rough day and he hopes Grogu wasn’t part of the cause. He still hadn’t figured out how to discipline the kid, he always turned those big brown eyes on him and he just couldn’t tell him no.

“Din. Call me Din.”

“Then you should call me Y/N.” There’s a moment of silence. You stare at him, at the way his hat casts shadows over his face, at the gentle hold he has on Grogu, the open top buttons of his work shirt and the dig of suspenders into his shoulders. He stares back at you. The gentle softness of your cheek, the marks that make your skin your skin and not someone else's.

“We’re going to start building the schoolhouse as soon as the wood shipment gets here, I sent a telegram off today to get some good lumber in.” It surprises you in the most delightful way. When you said the mayor had been dragging his heels you meant it, but you hadn’t expected this new face to come in and make a start on what the mayor had been reluctant to do.

“We’re?”

“I’ve convinced some of the men around town to pitch in and I know a thing or two about building.” In truth he’d intimidated more than persuaded. Most of the men were lazy, and had more concern for their own vices than for helping out. But, a mixture of convincing them they’d get their saloon back and reminding them that he was now the town’s sheriff seemed to get a few of the stronger and more skilled townsfolk to agree to help.

“You’re the sheriff. You shouldn’t be building the schoolhouse, Din. You’ve got more important things to do.” You feel bad that he’s doing this, being quite so involved, when he’s starting a new job, one that takes up most of his time. Being a sheriff is a full time job, almost 24 hours a day 7 days a week. He has people to keep in line, criminals to catch, laws to enforce, and building a schoolhouse wasn’t on his list of priorities. It’s sweet and makes your heart ache oddly, but you feel guilty for adding another thing to his plate.

“This is important, Miss...Y/N. The kid can’t learn in a saloon forever and you can’t work here forever neither.” He can see how desperately you want your schoolhouse back and something in him wants to provide that for you, to care for you. He tells himself it’s also for the kid, that his son deserves a proper schoolhouse to learn in. That all foundlings, all little children deserved a place to learn, like he had growing up in the covert.

“At least...at least let me and the children bring food and water down once you get started. I...you’ve not even been here a whole day and you’re already doing more than anyone else ever has...Thank you, Din.”

“It’s my pleasure, meg ba'jurir” You do not understand what he calls you, but you recognise that cadence, the rhythm of the language. Can almost see the symbolic nature of the alphabet. It surprises you that he knows what you’re sure is Mando’a, having only heard one other person in your life ever speak it. Mandalorian family groups were uncommon, but where they were they seemed to keep people in order, to value community. It made sense that he would take on the job of sheriff, adopt a child not of his own blood, if that were the case.

You bite your tongue and don’t ask, you don’t know him and it is too personal to ask about his upbringing, culture or heritage. Perhaps, after you know him better you can ask, but you can almost hear your headmistress at school reminding you about manners and decorum even in a little mining town.

“He didn’t...he didn’t cause any trouble today did he? He’s not used to being around others or...we’ve been on the road for a long time now.” He looks down at the little boy sitting at his hip, who’s playing with the metal star on his shirt. He knew that Grogu could be difficult, sweet, adorable, hard to say no to, but undisciplined and not used to the rules that people usually abided by.

“I...I did have to have a word with him today…” You can already tell Din’s disappointed. He clearly loves the boy, but part of loving a child is wanting better for them and getting in trouble isn’t part of that.

Din sighs heavily before catching the boy’s eye, “Ad’ika…”The boy clearly knows what’s going on and hides his face in his father’s shirt, suitably embarrassed about his behaviour. You think that’s enough to probably deter him from stealing from other kids in the future. You also think you might bake him some treats and use them as an incentive to work hard. You suspect bribery would work well with Grogu.

“He paid attention beautifully and he’s already doing so well with learning his letters, but he’s...he’s quite…” You try to think of the best way to say that the boy just can’t resist taking other children’s food.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Y/N. You can tell me.” You look Din in the eyes, deep brown meeting your own and sigh out before speaking.

“He likes to steal the other children’s food. I gave him my lunch and he still tried to steal Charlie’s cookies and Mary Beth’s macarons. I know he’s probably used to food being a thing he can just have since you’ve been travelling as a family unit…”

“Osik... I forgot to give him lunch. I am a terrible father…” Din looks at his feet, free hand rubbing over the scruff on his jaw. You feel the instant need to reassure him.

“You’re not a terrible father. You just came into town this morning, immediately took on a job, and instantly went to work. You’re not a terrible father.” You hesitate, but reach forward anyway, a hand on his arm giving a quick reassuring squeeze.

“Vor entye, Y/N. Thank you. Have you eaten?”

“Oh…” You hadn’t really thought about it, that you’d given your food to Grogu to stop him going hungry and that you’d spent all day teaching with little more than the porridge you’d made yourself that morning to keep you going.

“Don’t even think about lying to the sheriff.” You did in fact consider lying to him, but the look he gave you reminded you of an overbearing mother hen who wouldn’t let you get away with it. Combined with the fact he was indeed the new sheriff, you felt it best to stick to the truth for now.

“No...I haven’t.” You admit, feeling suitably admonished by him and a little guilty for even considering lying about.

Din adjusts Grogu on his hip and nods his head behind him towards the street, “Come, I’ll buy you dinner at the café.”

“You don’t have to, Din. I can make dinner at home.” You think back to the soup you were going to make that night, and even though you haven’t the energy in truth to make dinner, you can’t ask him to buy you it. It is too much and unnecessary. Any good teacher would have made sure their students were fed.

“You kept my ad fed in place of yourself. I’m buying you dinner.” His voice left no room for argument and so you found yourself following after him across the street towards Reeva’s Café.

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

Din’s presence in town becomes apparent very quickly. He does not allow the men to wander drunk through the streets, start fights, or harass women. He does not suffer law breakers or those who cause the peace to break. He is swift, effective, and there isn’t a member of town who doesn’t respect his authority even if some don’t particularly like having to listen to him.

For you it is a refreshing change. You don’t worry about the children wandering around town in the evenings or about walking out of your home at night. You don’t worry about your meager belongings being stolen or a fight breaking out in the saloon on an evening and ruining the few bits you have for the school.

He is quiet and polite, not much of a talker, but everything he does shows a man of honour and good morals. He is sweet with the children as well.

It had become common place for him, while waiting for the lumber to begin the schoolhouse, to come into the saloon while you were teaching. He said it was because the day time left little for him to do as sheriff, but you think he just enjoys helping with the children. They make him smile. A real smile.

Sometimes he just sits with his son on his lap and helps him with his letters, other times he wanders between tables helping those who need it or using his presence to quiet the children after an exciting lunch break. Reminding them to respect you, their teacher, and listen.

Your favourite, and the childrens’ favourite times were when he’d sit down and tell them stories of his travels. For a man who didn’t speak much, Din Djarin was a natural born storyteller.

That’s how you found yourself taking a step back, sitting on one of the saloon bar stools off to the side as Din took your place at the front of the class. He had an ability with the little ones that amazed you, none were ever scared of him despite his height, posturing or the guns holstered at his side and slung over his back. He always managed to make them smile and laugh, always got their curiosity going and inspired them equally. He made it a point whenever he talked to your class to share stories of both men and women he’d met who’d done amazing things, you could tell he was trying to get the girls in your class to see they could be more than housewives or washerwomen and you appreciated it.

“So there I am standing toe to toe with the biggest grizzly you’ve ever seen…” He gestures with his hands, standing at the front, arms out front to show just how large this grizzly bear was. His voice took on a different, more dramatic quality then normal. Grogu clapped his hands from his seat on your lap, the little boy having grown increasingly comfortable around you.

“Now this grizzly has to be 8ft standin’, and he’s the angriest bear you’ve ever seen and i’m sure that’s the end of me. I’m about to become a grizzly bear’s dinner, Sheriff Djarin stew!” You laugh along with the kids at the prospect of Din becoming stew for a grizzly bear, you’re never sure how much is fiction or truth in his stories, although part of you wouldn’t be surprised if they were all completely true. He was...he always seemed larger than life despite being so quiet. Like some sort of figure out of a western story.

“When out of nowhere, charging between me and this mean grizzly, comes the largest bull moose I've ever seen…”

“What’d you do?” Mary Beth pipes up, big blue eyes open wide.

“Well, I got the he-” He stops himself looking at you, you raise an eyebrow reminding him that cussing around the children would not do well for him, “-out of there as quickly as I could! One thing you should never do is stay around to fight a grizzly, never ends well to go toe to toe with one. That moose was being kind and giving me a chance to get away.” It amuses you that he always manages to twist a moral into the story. This time about kindness and helping those weaker than yourself, along with a healthy dose of not getting into situations with angry grizzly bears of course.

“Well, I think it’s time I let Miss Y/N, get on with her mathematics lesson.” Groans and grumbling rises up from your students as you place Grogu in his seat and begin making your way to the front. You watch Din frown at them, hands on his belt, leaning into one hip more than the other. He is the perfect picture of a disappointed father. Lips twisting downwards, pulling on his moustache.

“Hey, now! Miss Y/N always makes your lessons fun so don’t you start giving her trouble or else i’ll have to stop coming in for story time.” It’s a threat that promptly has them settling quietly in their chairs and getting their books and pencils out.

You rest a gentle hand on his arm when you reach him, quietly telling him thank you. It’s heavy with meaning. Thank you for being there for the children. Thank you for providing them with stories. Thank you for always settling them and reminding them to respect me. Thank you for thinking about the schoolhouse. Thank you for settling the town and keeping the peace.

He just nods at you with the smallest hint of a smile, enough to make you feel the tiniest bit flustered as you watch him walk to the chair where he’d left his hat, holsters, and lasso.

“Say goodbye to the sheriff, children.” You tell them as all of you watch him make his way to the doors. He stops before them and tips his hat at you all with a smile, but the moment he’s out the doors it drops and in his place is the hard sheriff who won’t stand for trouble.

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

Once the lumber comes in and the plans have been drawn up and approved by yourself, at Din’s insistence, the work begins. The schoolhouse design had been run past you because Din didn’t want to miss anything that was needed or that would help you teach. He had told you not to worry about size, scale or cost, that the community was pitching in and that the mayor had found a fund tucked away somewhere for the school. The fund miraculously appeared after Din had a long meaningful chat with him.

He wouldn’t tell you that he’d made threats against the mayor about digging up some of his dirty laundry, but he had. The mayor had a lot of skeletons in his closet and also a nice stack of credits he was sitting on in his own personal mayoral vault. The fact that the mayor had been so reluctant to rebuild the schoolhouse when he easily could have almost made Din see red, but he didn’t think it would look good if he beat the man to the curb as sheriff. He was supposed to be upstanding and law abiding, if he wasn’t why would any of the townsfolk be?

A few days into the project you decided it was time you made good on your promise to come to the site during lunch time with the children to bring water and some food. You and the children collect pails of water and the baked goods you’d made the night before, trudging through the streets. You held Grogu on one hip, the small child the slowest of his classmates, and carried a heavy pail of water in the other, so heavy your shoulder slumped down on that side to accommodate the weight.

The children were happy to help, after all, many of their fathers and older brothers were working on the school site and it was a chance in the school day to see people they cared about. You were also sure they wanted to ask the sheriff a multitude of questions and beg for a story, but you’d reminded them that they weren’t there to get in the way or interrupt the work, just to offer food and water.

You’d reluctantly admitted to Reeva that you found the sheriff attractive, after the older woman badgered you day in and day out about the time you spent with him. You could admit he was handsome. His eyes were deep brown and spoke more words then he often did. He had both a look that could intimidate and also soften into something warm and safe. The beard and moustache he sported made him look ruggedly handsome and his shoulders were broad and wide. He looked like he’d stepped out of a story book or from an illustrated newspaper short story. Rugged but clean, dangerous but kind.

You had to admit though that this was your favourite look on him. As you came upon the building site he was busy sawing a plank of pine in two. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong forearms and thick wrists. His suspenders had been flung off his shoulders, resting at sides no longer covering the strong back that was tensed as he worked. The top few buttons of his shirt had come undone, almost indecently so to show a pronounced collar bone, strong neck, and dark chest hair and the brown hair on his head had begun to curl from the sweat he was working up. It shouldn’t have been attractive. He should have looked like any other man working up a sweat, you shouldn’t have wanted to wipe his brow and brush your fingers through the curls of his hair. But you did.

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself you look down at the little boy at your hip, “Should we go say hello to your father?”

“Papa!” He clapped his hands at you in confirmation. You’d slowly learnt that papa was one of the only words he said, you weren’t sure if he chose not to speak or simply couldn’t. But, given his increasing aptitude with writing his letters, you thought it likely that he simply chose not to speak.

The call instantly has Din’s head popping up from his work like a startled deer and you watch as his eyes roam across the children until he catches sight of his son at your hip. The smile that lights his face is so bright that it’s almost blinding, there is a longing you feel whenever you see his happiness to see Grogu. Some deep part of you that desires that sort of family bond. He loves his son so deeply, it doesn’t matter to him that their blood isn’t the same and part of you wants desperately to be part of that love and happiness.

“Children, hand out the food and water, will you? But be careful!” You remind them as they run towards familiar faces, it is still a building site after all, and the last thing you need is a child getting hurt in any way.

Din finishes sawing the plank before striding over to you, hand pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. You look...radiant. The summer sun shining over you, causing your skin to glow, your hair to shine. Your smile is as soft as your eyes and you're gentle in the way you hold his son to your hip, like he belonged there. Like the two of you belonged together. Din can admit that he enjoys your company more than he probably should, he can even admit that a part of him deeply desires you, wants you to join his family unit, become part of his aliit. You’re tender and kind to all the children you teach, your children as you often call them, and you’re incredibly kind to Grogu who you treat with more understanding than most school teachers ever would. You keep order in your classroom through kindness and mutual respect, not through fear or punishment. The maternal shine to you draws him to you in a way that, had he not been Mandalorian, he might be ashamed of. But, family is everything to him, Grogu is everything to him and if he is to put down roots here, he can’t help but consider putting down roots with you.

It’s a silly thought though, you’ve not known each other long and he isn’t well to do or gentlemanly. You’re far better educated than him, kinder than him, and it is a pipe dream that he doubts will ever come to fruition. It doesn’t help that he struggles at times to even talk to you, let alone make his feelings known.

“Miss me, Ad’ika?” He calls to the little boy, carefully pulling him from your arms when you offer him. If you allow yourself to, you can almost imagine he’s taking your own child from you, that the two of you have formed some sort of family. But, you are just his son’s teacher and he is just the sheriff of your small town.

The boy babbles at him, not real words, nonsense, or attempts at words that don’t translate, but you can see that improving. Can almost imagine what settling down here can do for the boy, give him a chance to learn, grow, make friends, and find some stability and safety.

“He’s been itching to come over all day, they all have. I was struggling to get them to focus on their history lesson.” You had 15 children all desperate to get out of the saloon and visit their fathers for lunch. It had been a...very difficult lesson to say the least and you still felt a little frazzled.

“History?” The boy tugs at his father’s hair and you watch him wince as he speaks, pulling little chubby hands from brown curls.

“The fall of the empire and the rise of the republic. Not the most riveting subject for them I'm sure, they much prefer when I tell them about different societies rather than politics.” You want to say like Mandalore and the Mandalorians because you want to draw him in, desperate to have more of his time even when he’s already doing so much for you. You enjoy the odd hour here and there when he takes over your class and becomes the teacher, where you can just sit and listen, learn yourself.

“Mandalorians believe that our history is our future. We learn it as soon as we can walk.”

“So it is Mando’a you’ve been speaking?” It warms you to see him open up to you like this. He is a private man, quiet, and insular. While he can yell with the best, and demand attention, can intimidate and even persuade, it’s all part of his job. The face he puts on as sheriff. He is quiet about himself, sharing little and not so often. You revel in the trust placed in you wherever he tells you a little something more about himself.

“You noticed?” Most people don’t even know Mando’a exists, let alone recognise that the words he slips into his speech are such. He finds they slip out more around you, than with others. He’s comfortable with, he is happy to share himself, his culture with you and it...it is a startling discovery about himself. He has been insular and closed off for longer than he would like to admit.

“I can’t speak it and I..I don’t know it well, but, I recognise the cadence. I grew up in Naboo and there was a Mandalorian there, she used to speak it when I would sit and practice my letters with her.” Atin’a Caivass was a kind woman to you even if she could be hard. She had been one of your teachers, always pushing you harder, to do better. Yet, it had never felt frustrating or like a chore, the Mandalorian had always made it a desire to impress her, but also to prove to yourself that you could. She had always been kind to you and the other children, gentle but firm, like you were one of her own. You saw similarities with how Din treated the children. He was kind and gentle, but never overlooked an opportunity to firmly correct their behaviour or mistakes. A perfect balance. Not too soft and not too harsh.

“You never learnt?”

“She was very protective of it and I...I was always too afraid to ask.” You confess. You had always been fascinated with it, like any young child when faced with a new language, but you had always believed it something sacred, and had worried that you would offend her if you asked to learn. “Ad’ika? What does it mean?”

He can’t help but laugh at your pronunciation and sounds it out for you, “Ah-Dee-Kah, it means little one.”

“Ah-dee-kuh?” You are even more beautiful, he thinks when you butcher his language, trying so hard to get it right that your eyebrows scrunch together and your eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Ah-Dee-Kah” The little one squirms in his arms and he places him on the ground, only to watch him plunk himself on his bottom and play with the dirt. He had always had a fascination with dirt and rocks, more so than any of the toys he had actually brought or made him.

“Ah-Dee-Kah”

“Perfect.” You smile blindingly at his praise and he wonders if he can forgo his job as sheriff and simply teach you Mando’a every minute of every day. “You can always ask. If you want to learn. It’s nice to hear it from another person’s lips, not just mine.”

“I would like that very much...maybe when you’re less busy? You’re rather booked up at the moment, what with being sheriff, storytime for the children, and building a schoolhouse. You’re a busy man, Din Djarin.”

“I like to keep my hands busy.” You look down at your feet before looking back up at him, unsure how to respond to what you were sure was meant as a perfectly innocent comment. Din almost swears, osik, once he realises how that sounds, lifting hand to the back of his neck to rub it.

The silence that you fall into isn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but feels almost solid, like a physical thing and not just the quiet that comes with two people not talking for a moment. There’s a tension there that is not wholly unpleasant but hard to describe or pin down.

Seeming to remember the pail of water you’re carrying you place it in front of him, “Water, so you can clean off or if you’re thirsty. There’s some pastries somewhere as well, to keep you all fed...Can’t have you keeling over on us or else we’d never get our schoolhouse.”

You take a step back and cast your gaze around, making note of where each of your 15 kids are. You’re caught watching Jerome splash water on Annie, about to go and tell him off when you hear splashing much closer to you.

You thought he couldn’t excite you more than he already had. Thought that Din Djarin couldn’t possibly tempt you more, cause your well-mannered sensibilities to crumble further. You were utterly, terribly, ridiculously wrong.

There’s something to be said about the man pouring half a pail of water over his head to rub away the sweat and dirt from a hard day working in the summer sun. He flicks his head back, long neck outstretched as water droplets fall like mirror glass over his tanned skin. His hair sticks to his skin, kissing it in a way you realise you desperately want to and his shirt clings to broad shoulders with the familiarity of a lover.

You spin back around away from him flustered, determined not to look as you march towards Jerome. You decide in that moment that perhaps it’s best not to bring pails of water at lunch time. You might just not survive to see the school built.

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

For the next two months your routine features lunch time trips with the children to bring water and sometimes food to the men building the schoolhouse, and the odd afternoon story time hour when Din feels confident enough to leave the others to continue working without his guidance. Each day the schoolhouse comes together more and more and each day you fall a little bit more in...in whatever these feelings for the sheriff were.

You also have the startling realisation that Grogu has wormed his little way into your heart in a way that none of your other students have. You have a soft spot for the little boy, especially as he becomes more vocal, begins to say more little words, including the delightful name ‘Miss Y/N’.

Din is a temptation in himself, each time he teaches you another word or phrase in Mando’a and his lips wrap around syllables or every time he works hard to build the schoolhouse muscles pulling taut underneath the weight of wood. He tempts you in a way that no one ever has and you can’t quite explain what it is about this man that makes you desire to be in his presence, to kiss him, to hold him, to be close to him both physically and emotionally. You want to know everything about him, to understand him better than you understand yourself.

In some ways it is a relief when the schoolhouse is finished and in other ways it feels like a loss. Part of your routine, part of the day where you always see Din was no longer needed or necessary.

When you bring the children over at lunch time, it’s to show them the finished building, the one they’ll be in come Monday morning once you have the time to move all the books and other odds and ends into it. They’re all excited as are you, to see it...it strikes you in the heart so badly that you can’t move your feet, can only stare at the building with tears in your eyes.

It’s beautiful. Not large, but larger than the old one. Freshly painted white, with a school bell hanging out front. It strikes you that this isn’t just a schoolhouse, but it’s your schoolhouse. Din had been adamant about building it for you.

“Children, why don’t you go inside and take a look? You’ll be here on Monday!” You wave them all off as they run ahead and up the wooden steps, throwing the door open none too gently. “Careful! We only just got it!” You call out and receive a series of sorries back.

“Shall we go find your buir?” You look down at Grogu, who’s hand is holding the heavy fabric of your skirt. He smiles up at you and nods his head with a quick little ‘papa’ that has your heart warming.

You hear him before you see him, “Now don’t go breaking the tables when we’ve only just put them together, girls!” Already laying down the law to 3 of your children as you enter the schoolhouse. They had seemingly been swinging on tables in a most ill-mannered fashion that has you putting on your teacher-face and raising an eyebrow at them from behind Din. They promptly stop and return their feet to the floor with an abashed look.

“Sorry, Sheriff. Sorry Miss.” They call to you both before scurrying away in hopes of avoiding punishment, leaving you, Din and Grogu alone in the main room for the building. You let it go. It isn’t an issue, they need to learn to respect things, and not damage them, but that does not have to come at the cost of punishment when a quick look and a reminder does enough.

Din spins at them calling out to you, faster than he seems to have expected, looking decidedly dizzy for a second before the mask of sheriff falls right back into place.

“Y/N, how do you like it?” He opens his arms wide and gestures to the main room of the schoolhouse. A large blackboard already nailed to the wall at the back, rows of tables and chairs set up so every child could see you. A desk at the front for your things. It is sweet and fits your needs infinitely better than a saloon ever would. You even note the bookcases along the walls, enough space to place many of your books for the children to have easy access for when they wish to learn something more than you could teach them.

“It’s...it’s wonderful, Din. It’s beautiful. I...I can’t thank you enough...I...I’m a little lost for words.” You can feel the happy tears starting to pool in your eyes again, the gratitude making you a little bit emotional. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”

“You...you don’t need to repay me, Mesh’la. This...you and the children deserve a school, a place to teach and learn. You don’t have to thank me or repay me for doing what the damn mayor should have done in the first place.”

You nearly don’t do it. Nearly let that fear that wells up inside you and the proper manners, the belief that you were about to be far too forward than was ladylike, stop you. But, you think back to his kindness, his gentle nature, the calm and order he’s brought to town. The son of his that you have a large soft spot for. The handsomeness of his features, the sharpness of his profile. The gentle hand he always places on your back as he helps escort you somewhere. The respect he shows you at every turn and his willingness to share his culture and upbringing with you. You think of all the things that make up the Din Djarin you know and you think of what he has come to mean to you.

With a silent prayer and an apology to your late headmistress for being more forward than is ladylike, you push yourself forward and into him. Lips soft and chaste lifting to meet his, only briefly. You do not push for more than a second of contact, but it is enough, you hope, to get the thought and intent across. That he is someone you would like to get to know more, that he is someone you could happily be courted by, even marry one day.

He doesn’t even have time to blink, it happens so fast. One minute you are standing a few steps away from him thanking him, the next your lips are pressed to his in the shortest sweetest kiss he’s ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. It takes another second for him to realise what’s happened before he’s reaching a hand out to cup the nape of your neck and drag your lips back to his for a significantly more substantial kiss that leaves you a little breathless.

When you pull away from each other you don’t go far. Din presses his forehead to yours, hawkish nose pressing into your cheek, a soft touch that grounds you with his presence. The hand at your neck, rubs a soothing thumb across your skin. Your own have chosen to grasp at the suspenders over his shoulders, to keep in close proximity.

“I’d very much like to court you, Miss Y/N.”

“I think i’d like that, sheriff.”

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Mando’a Translations

Meg Ba'jurir - roughest way I could get to someone who educates or a teacher with meg being who and ba’jurir being educate

Osik - Shit

Vor entye - Thank You

Ad - son

Ad’ika - Little one, term of endearment for small children

Buir - Father also Mother basically parent.

Mesh’la - Beautiful

Aliit - Family (Clan)

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jingabitch · 3 years

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Armed to the Fangs ch.12

SUMMARY: you grew up in the hunter’s guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. while making the rounds one night, you encounter taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

PAIRING: eventual ot7 x reader

WARNINGS: some description of violence, angst, pining, some shit goes down

RATING: T - slightly M-ish?

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

A/N: I have a new beta, @hesperantha , as Kura is no longer writing for BTS and has left her blog. :)

series index

If you’d thought that Hoseok’s attitude would change towards you after you’d saved his life, you were sadly mistaken. He immediately retreated back into his own room, only leaving to seek you out when he needed to feed. In some ways, you felt like a walking Capri-sun.

You didn’t let it bother you too much – after all, the others were more than willing to entertain you. Yoongi was teaching you piano, Jin was teaching you how to cook, and so on. You’d taken Namjoon’s advice to start exploring new things while you were still living with them, and he was right – all of them were so knowledgeable in the areas they were interested in that it was like talking to encyclopedias. It made sense, of course, since they’d all been around for so long that they’d been able to experience the evolution of their various fields firsthand.

It was only now that you had all the time in the world to learn about different things that you realized how empty your life had been in the Guild. It had been all you knew for the past twenty-odd years of your life. Life had been little more than learning the Code, physical training and all the emergency skills you would need. You’d held a gun before you held a pen for the first time.

With so much time now, you wondered what your life would have been like if you hadn’t been orphaned and taken in by the Guild. Maybe you would have become a writer, or a doctor.

Then again, everything came back to the fact that everyone lived in fear because of the vampires that roamed the night. Hardly anyone could be found on the streets at night, and even during the day, no one dared walk too close to the dark alleys where the vampires hid out. In a different life, one where you hadn’t had the benefit of extensive hand-to-hand combat training and a gun, you might not even have lived to adulthood.

With a sigh, you wrapped the throw around yourself more tightly as you frowned down at the book you were holding. Namjoon had recommended this, but somehow you weren’t in any mood to read, caught up in your maudlin thoughts.

The knock on the door provided a welcome distraction, and you shut the book as you called out, “It’s open.”

Hoseok stepped into your room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Oh, you’re hungry again, aren’t you?” you said, thinking back to the last time he’d sought you out.

He nodded, and padded silently over to you. All of the vampires walked without making any sort of noise, and it had creeped you out a little at first, but you were getting used to it now.

The smell of blood, on the other hand, still made you nauseated. You usually held your breath for as long as possible while Hoseok was feeding, and he was considerate enough to close the wounds immediately after he was done. Still, this might never become your favourite activity.

That wasn’t an absolute no, though, because you had to admit to yourself as Hoseok came to sit next to you on the couch that the feeding was an almost erotic activity. The way he had to draw close, put his mouth on your neck… the line between prey and partner tended to blur in that instant.

It was ridiculous, you knew, and certainly a consequence of being touch-starved here at the manor. Back at the Guild, physical intimacy was just a way to scratch an itch, and hookups among the hunters were common. After all, none of you really expected to be able to get married, have kids, or any of that stuff – death in combat was the norm. Why not enjoy the time you had on this earth?

You swallowed as Hoseok sat down next to you, perched sideways on the couch. Putting your book aside, you turned to face him, trying your best to regulate your breathing and heart rate. It was all easier if you remained calm, you’d found out quickly.

Still, you couldn’t help but grit your teeth as your eyes followed his hand, reaching out to touch your neck. His skin was warm against yours, and he ran his thumb along the side of your throat, gently tracing his favoured spot.

As he leaned in, you tipped your head back to give him more room, your eyes focusing on the ceiling as your hands clenched into fists in your lap. This was normal for your feeding sessions, and initially it had been to stop yourself from pushing him away, but now you did it to hold yourself still so you didn’t do something asinine like pull him closer, which was guaranteed to make things awkward. After all, even though he was the only one bonded to you in this way, Hoseok was still by far the most aloof of the vampires.

He got close enough that you could feel his breath on your neck, and you sank your teeth into your lower lip to prevent any moaning, although you couldn’t quite stop the shaky breath you let out.

“I’m going to bite you now,” Hoseok murmured in a low voice, conscientiously warning you in the instant before it happened.

The subsequent feedings had been nothing like the first time, when he’d been almost savage in his hunger. He was gentle almost to a fault as he cradled the back of your neck to keep you from moving, carefully puncturing your skin with his teeth – and okay, this part did hurt a little, but no more than the blood donations you’d made every couple of weeks to the Guild infirmary – and then drinking. With how soft his lips were on your neck, you could almost forget what he was actually doing. You sank back into the couch cushions as he drank, feeling a little weak and dizzy… not that you hated it, the lightheadedness making you feel like you were floating, and it was only Hoseok, his body braced over yours, that was keeping you grounded.

When he was done and slid his tongue up your neck, over the puncture wounds, you couldn’t hold back the soft whimper, or the way your hands automatically flew to him, settling over his sides as your fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. It was like in that instant, instinct overruled all reason.

A second later, you realized what you’d done, and your cheeks burned as you yanked your hands away from him. He sat up and away from you, determinedly avoiding eye contact with you.

“Right, uh, I guess that’s that, then,” you said with forced cheer, trying to break the awkward silence that fell over the room.

“Yes, thank you,” Hoseok responded, standing up stiffly, his arms locked by his sides. He bowed perfunctorily then made his escape as quickly as possible.

Finally alone now, you let out a gusty sigh and tilted your head back to rest against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling without really taking anything in.

How horrifyingly humiliating, you thought, shutting your eyes tightly and cringing. How could you have exhibited such a stunning lack of control?

Still, even though you didn’t want to admit it, you felt the ghost of his touch even till now. His body under your hands had been warm and solid; his gentle touch on your neck made your skin tingle.

There was definitely something there that shouldn’t be present.

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

It was like something clicked in your head that day, and for the first time, you realized that you were living with seven incredibly attractive men. It was terribly distracting too, especially since you were now spending more time in close proximity with them. Piano lessons with Yoongi, cooking with Jin, working out with Jungkook (it shouldn’t have surprised you that they had a full gym in the manor, but you’d been wowed by how comprehensive the equipment was anyway) – all these activities filled your nights with so much learning and joy that you’d never experienced at the Guild.

As the summer months stretched on, you took to sunbathing in the gardens sometimes during the day, after realizing that you were starting to get unhealthily pasty and were surely well on your way to a serious vitamin D deficiency. You were settling quite nicely into your life of leisure, you thought. Behind the manor gates, it was easy to pretend that none of the horrors happening right outside your little oasis were actually real. Instead, you occupied yourself with zoning out while watching Yoongi’s fingers dance across the keys of his grand piano, imagining all the nasty things his dexterous fingers could be doing to you instead, or watching Jungkook do deadlifts while shirtless.

One of your favourite things to do, however, was watch Jin cook in the kitchen. Not only did he make the tastiest food you’d ever tasted – not that you had much of a frame of reference – but watching him move around the kitchen, the muscles underneath his shirt rippling as he chopped vegetables or flipped the food in the pan, was strangely both soothing and arousing. It felt like domesticity, like home, like something you’d never even thought was within the realm of possibility for you when your life had been about killing as many vampires as possible before one got you too.

Would it really be okay, you wondered, leaning against the island in the kitchen as you watched Jin make something called mala stir fry, if you just embraced what was in front of you now? Put down the burden of protecting the people of Seoul from the vampires and just… what? Engaged in an orgy with all seven of them? Get passed around between them, one for every day of the week?

“I can hear your brain back there,” Jin said as he poured the mixture of spices into the wok. The smell of the Szechuan peppers immediately wafted up, and you sneezed a few times before sniffling.

“Can’t hear anything over the sound of me sneezing,” you bit back, and he laughed, impervious to the spice that was currently making your nose itch and your eyes water.

“Come try it,” he invited, scooping a piece of mushroom out of the wok and holding it out for you. You came to stand next to him, your hip leaning against the counter, and he held the spatula in front of your face.

“This is good,” you mumbled around the morsel of food, feeling your tongue and lips tingle and turn numb from the spice. You swallowed, then piped up again. “You know this is way too much food for one person though, right?” you asked, looking down at the food in the wok.

Jin followed your gaze back down then sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I keep forgetting,” he complained. “It’s so hard to cook for just one person.”

You laughed. “You’ve always been a vampire, haven’t you? How many people were you cooking for before?”

“Oh, tons,” he said, running his spatula through the wok. “Back in the day I had a restaurant, and people would line up ‘round the block to taste my food. It was the best,” he sighed wistfully.

“How come you stopped?” you asked, peering up at him as you held the tip of the spoon to your mouth, trying to get the last of the sauce. It really was addictive.

Immediately, Jin’s body language changed. His expression grew shuttered and his shoulders seemed to draw up closer to his ears, as if he was stressed. “A lot of things changed,” he muttered evasively.

Curious, you wanted to ask more questions, but he turned off the flame and started plating the stir fry. “Can you get the rice?” he asked, still facing the counter and not looking at you.

“All right.” You opened the rice cooker and scooped out the rice into a bowl, but you couldn’t forget about his mysterious words and the way his entire demeanor had changed. A vampire having a restaurant? That thought sounded too ludicrous to even imagine, but why would Jin lie to you?

Come to think of it, sometimes the boys would absently refer to a time “before” and drop references to a world that had been so different. Travelling, owning businesses, socializing with humans… what had changed? What was going on?

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

You were still mulling over it a week later. Before, you’d have picked up your phone and texted Jennie about it, asking what she thought about the whole situation, but now you sensed that was no longer an option. Instead, you turned the problem over and over in your mind, trying to examine it from all angles.

It was hard, though. You didn’t have much practice solving puzzles beyond the most efficient way to dispatch an attacking vampire.

Still, your focus on Jin’s mysterious words from that night meant that you weren’t focusing on other things, like the fact that you’d had an apparently uncontrollable craving for chocolate ice cream two nights ago, or the slight tenderness of your chest.

Could anyone blame you? You’d been on birth control that suppressed your period for the past few years, to minimize the disruption to your training and hunting schedule. Nothing put a mark on your back like blood leaking out of your vagina in the middle of the street while you were trying to be stealthy, after all.

You were going to regret missing all the signs soon, though.

As you felt safer in the manor, you’d started arming yourself less when you left the room. First the knives in your boots went, then the rifle on your back, and the various guns you’d kept in your coat and strapped to your thighs, one by one. Now you only kept a small revolver on you, more out of habit than anything else. Old habits died hard, after all, and you hadn’t been without a weapon since you were a child.

Dinner – or maybe breakfast? – with all of the boys (sans Hoseok, who usually ate… separately) was an almost nightly affair, and you’d come to enjoy the experience. Maybe it was something that the families from the books you’d read shared, you always thought, and the thought of doing something so normal made the lost little girl inside you happy.

This evening, you were dressed in your usual ensemble of a black T-shirt and black skinny jeans, and as you strapped your hip holster on, you thought absently that maybe you should get some new clothes. Now that everything in your closet didn’t have to be so functional, you could get some cute, pretty outfits, maybe something colourful…

With a small smile at your reflection, you turned and walked out of your room.

The boys were already gathered in the dining room when you got there, and you smiled at them as you walked over to your seat. You’d been smiling more recently, Jimin noted, the tension in your shoulders loosening gradually as you became more comfortable around them.

As elated as he was by the thought, he wondered darkly how quickly you would run if you found out that every single one of them could hear your heart beating in your chest, the quiet sound of the blood rushing through your veins, coming so tantalizingly close to the surface of your skin in your neck, your wrists…

Still, he managed to keep the hunger from darkening his gaze as it followed you to your seat. He wasn’t the worst off of his brothers, and he looked over, concerned, at Jungkook. The youngest was the one having the most trouble, and everyone was concerned about him, but he seemed to be holding it together fine for now.

“Hi everyone,” you chirped as you pulled your chair out. Right before you sat down, though, a little glob of blood slid out of you, soaking into your panties. You didn’t notice at first, but the others sure did.

Jungkook, the worst off, immediately turned his head towards you, his nostrils flaring as he stared you down like a predator. Startled by the sudden movement, you looked over at him, your hands still braced on the table as you prepared to sit. “Jungkook-ssi, what’s wrong?” you asked, your brow furrowing in concern. He didn’t look so good, with his clenched jaw and wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he snarled as he launched himself across the table at you. Startled yells sounded from around the table as the others realized what was happening, but none of them were close enough to stop him immediately.

In a flash, you’d scrambled away, knocking the chair over in the process. “Jungkook, stop!” you screamed, abruptly terrified. He always seemed so harmless and lovable despite his hulking size, with his big doe-like eyes and wide grins, but now you saw the apex predator that he was.

He didn’t even blink in response, and your gun was in your hand in the next second. When the appearance of your weapon didn’t even slow him down, you fired a warning shot into his shoulder, unable to bring yourself to go for a fatal shot immediately.

He paused slightly, a pained snarl crossing his face as his opposite hand came up to cradle his injured shoulder. Then he readjusted, his gaze focusing on you once again with laser-sharp intent.

“Stop,” you said, your trembling hand moving the gun up. The next shot would hit him between his eyes. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the years of training that you’d thought were becoming obsolete in your new life roared back. The instinct to squeeze your fingers and end it warred with your memories of Jungkook, acting like a cute, innocent boy, so human, so like someone you had to protect. He was almost on top of you when you finally pulled the trigger, closing your eyes tight.

There was a loud thud, and then a moment of silence. You opened your eyes, lowering your arm to your side, your revolver dangling loosely from your lax grip. You expected to see Jungkook – or what was left of him, anyway – lying on the floor in front of you, his head exploded and a huge mess on the carpet.

Instead, you saw him on the ground, struggling against his brothers who were holding him down, still snarling and snapping at you.

“Y/n-ie, are you okay?” Taehyung, who was still standing next to you, reached out to touch your shoulder, but you flinched away from him, looking pale.

“Oh, God,” you breathed shakily, dropping the gun on the floor. It hit the carpet with a soft thud. “Holy fuck.”

Jin stood up, releasing Jungkook’s torso, and disentangled himself from his brothers, getting to his feet in front of you. He was the one who’d tackled Jungkook, you noted numbly. You could tell from his earlier position. “Y/n, you look pale,” he said, ducking down slightly to look more carefully at you.

You took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. Then, without a word, you fled the dining room, sprinting back to your room and slamming the door shut behind you.

It was only when the door was shut, bolted, and barricaded with a chair that you felt safe, sinking onto the floor. Injeolmi meowed at you as he padded over, and you patted him absently.

You’d made the mistake of letting your guard down around them, and it had almost cost you your life.

#bts fic #vampire bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts x you

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mythicandco · 3 years

Text

I have 1% Battery Left And I’m Wasting it on This

A.K.A. Philip B. Wittebane (in which the “B” stands for “Belos”)

Warning: More than 90% of this is pure headcanoning and theorizing, based on the evidence that’s arisen and the ideas of many other members of the fandom. This theory has been circling the Owl House fandom for months, I DID NOT ORIGINALLY CREATE IT. Brooke and North are from this and so is some of the story, but the majority of the details are the work of my own convoluted brain. This was kinda disproved by Yesterday’s Lie but I want to post it before my computer dies. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this summarized monstrosity…

Everything is once again below the cut

Philip stumbles into the Boiling Isles by complete accident while on a hike through the woods, tripping into a rift in the fabric of space-time created by Titan’s blood interacting with other various magical substances. He doesn’t realize he’s in another realm until he actually stops to look around, and is startled to come face-to-face with a trio of witches.

The first witch, Brooke, is taller than their companions, with a big ol’ witchy hat and a pair of grey, tasseled earrings. North, only slightly shorter than Brooke, has a similar hat along with a matching cloak and blonde, curled hair. Her face is covered in scars. The last witch is Kirani, who ends up being a minor character but eh.

The trio is here to collect Titan’s blood for Brooke’s experiments with magic. They believe that by using their knowledge of potions, they can create an elixir of some form to allow witches to perform magic without the use of glyphs. The exact recipe is a work in progress, but they know that Titan’s blood will be a key ingredient.

When the group first encounters Philip, they are startled by his small, round ears. The bemused human assures them he means no harm and eventually they decide that even if he does want to hurt them, he doesn’t have access to the magical knowledge to do so. This is further proven when a dragon nearly eats Philip (more on that later). They take him to their village to help him find a way home and survive until then.

Over the next five or so years the group spends a lot of time together, Philip begins writing a journal, and North, Brooke and Philip form a friendship, often going on adventures together with the help of their palismans. North even trusts Philip enough to let him use her staff for transportation until he eventually gets the chance to carve his own. During this time Philip also learns a lot about glyph magic and the creatures of the Boiling Isles, and is surprised at how naturally it comes for him to draw the glyphs from memory and get them right.

At one point Philip and the others travel to the Knee to retrieve some Titan’s blood from Eclipse Lake. Brooke stays behind to start collecting the other, more local ingredients to their spell, and North is forced to stay behind due to injuries sustained after fighting off a swarm of small, dragon-like creatures.

The expedition is a disaster, and after mistaking fool’s blood for Titan’s blood, Philip is the only one who makes it out alive following the cave-in. Philip is horrified at this turn of events but simultaneously relieved that Brooke and North didn’t accompany him on this particular mission. He comes back with the Titan’s blood, but not the rest of the group, and has to explain what happened.

The village begins spreading rumors that he killed them to take the blood for himself, or that he is too incompetent to continue leading these expeditions. Brooke and North also get a share of the blame, being the ones who brought the human to their village in the first place. Brooke retreats to their study for a few weeks, taking the Titan’s blood with them.

Things get even worse after the Titan’s blood excursion and the neighboring witch tribes hear about the dangerous human who supposedly kills witches and other creatures in cold blood for his own gain. (Rumors are nasty things, slightly more terrifying the longer they’re out there.) Philip finds it almost ironic that in this world of freaks and monsters, he’s the target of the torches and pitchforks.

While out trading at a small market shared by a couple of the tribes, North is confronted by the leader of another clan and accused of betraying her kind. Things escalate quickly and she barely gets out without things coming to blows.

Philip starts worrying that he is becoming a burden and a danger to the others, not because he actually wants to hurt them, but because they will get in trouble for sheltering him. He offers to help out Brooke with the portal, which is nearly finished. While they are distracted, he pockets some of the Titan’s blood and some other magical supplies from when Brooke was experimenting with improving a witch’s ability to perform magic.

Philip uses the potion on himself, but because he is human, not a witch or demon, and isn’t connected to the Titan, he can only use magic by taking it from another source. He starts off using various plants and the horns and tusks of the creatures the village usually uses for jewelry or tosses aside after, I dunno, making a pie with it or something, and practices using spell circles in secret, making sure he can defend himself and the others should the need arise.

Soon he discovers that he needs more and more magic to stay powerful - to stay stable - and slips up in front of Brooke, losing control for less than a moment before using a spare flower he’d been keeping in his back pocket as a gift for North.

Brooke, understandably, is freaked out by what the fuck just happened and Philip begs for them to keep it a secret. He admits that he stole some of Brooke’s concoctions so that he could protect himself from the witches of the other tribes, and that he needs a reliable source of energy to continue using magic. Brooke argues that what he’s doing is dangerous and unnatural, and that a human shouldn’t be able to use magic the way he does.

Philip is furious, yelling at Brooke for hogging all of the magic for themselves. He says that where he comes from, witches were supposed to be burned at the stake or drowned. Brooke, horrified, backs away. Philip realizes he’s gone too far and flees back to the home he and the witches constructed when he first arrived in the Boiling Isles.

His state continues to worsen, and eventually he is driven to snap his own palisman in order to consume its essence. With horrified awe, Philip discovers palismen hold far more magical energy than the little table scraps he’d been collecting before. He is able to briefly rejoin the rest of the tribe, but Brooke doesn’t speak to him and he keeps thinking about his broken palisman.

A few days later Brooke finally finishes the portal and gives Philip the key. The human doesn’t get the chance to test out the door before one of the rival tribes attacks the village out of nowhere and Philip joins in defending the people he’s spent years with. North is stunned that he can weave magic without the use of glyphs, but she doesn’t have the time to consult Brooke on where the human gained this new ability.

At some point Philip corners the leader of the rival clan and nearly kills her, running out of magic just before the final blow is dealt. He reaches for the nearest source of power - North’s palisman - and snaps it in half.

For a few moments, North and Brooke process what just happened amidst the chaos. Then the fighting stops and everyone watches as Philip finishes consuming the palisman’s essence.

Philip looks up with glowing eyes and pauses, confused at everyone’s expressions. The fighting picks back up, this time directed at him, and someone throws a spear straight through his chest. It goes in one side and comes out the other, but the human(?) remains unharmed. The witches and demons start freaking the fuck out, because wouldn’t you in this situation?

Finally registering what he’s done, a horrified Philip backs away and makes a break for the trees. He never sees Brooke or North again.

In a clearing in the woods, Philip summons the door to the Human Realm but doesn’t have the courage to step through. He realizes that he is no better than the other monsters of the Demon Realm. He’d probably be shunned if he went home. Would anyone even recognize what he’d become? He once again briefly loses control of himself before giving up and throwing the key to the portal into the trees as hard as he can, before disappearing into the foliage himself.

North burns everything Philip touched, his books, home, everything in her fit of anger over the loss of her palisman and one of her best friends (or maybe something more). She is furious with Brooke for not telling her about him sooner and the two witches engage in an argument. Afterwards, Brooke discovers the journal Philip was going to donate to the market library, the one with all of his recorded notes and diagrams about the fantastical horror of the Demon Realm, and instead of burning it, donates it in their lost friend’s name.

A few centuries go by and Philip Wittebane’s name is practically lost to time, save for the journal that still resides in the almost-constantly growing library in what is now Bonesborough.

A powerful, controlling figure arises, claiming he alone can communicate with the Titan, and that the wild magic used by witches is wrong. Emperor Belos unites the witches of the Boiling Isles under the Coven system, ascending the throne and becoming the most powerful being (both physically and politically) on the Boiling Isles.

The rest, as they say, is history.

#the owl house spoilers #made before yesterday's lie #help my computer is dying

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scorsoneamelia · 3 years

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Can you write something in which link gives an organ to scout?

okay i wanna give a quick shoutout to @amelinkendgame for helping me come up with ideas because i was stuck on this one for a bit!! <3333 thank yall for your patience i hope this one isn’t disappointing!!

sorry if theres an typos lol

Lately, Scout hasn’t been feeling good, saying he was always sleepy or that his “tummy was hurting and he felt sick”. At first, both Amelia and Link assumed it was just the flu or maybe even just an upset stomach. It wasn’t until they noticed slight swelling around their son’s hands and ankles, which raised more and more redflags and being the anxious parents they are, they had brought him to hospital just to be safe.

After many tests, mostly being blood and urine tests they came across the problem, and it wasn’t just a simple flu or an upset stomach. The news made Amelia’s heart drop into her stomach and Link’s hand let go of hers to run to his sons side.

“Kidney failure? What? --- How?” Scout was healthy, he was always healthy, she always made sure he was feeling one hundred percent because she was always so anxious about what would happen to him. “Is there a cause?”

Hayes, the peds doctor was looking through Scout’s chart at all of the tests he had run. “I will run plenty of tests to find out the main cause for this, but in the meantime, you’re going to have to discuss a plan. If you want to do a transplant, we need to find a matching donor.”

Of course Scout would be okay with one kidney, but that would make Amelia anxious all the time, knowing that he only has one working kidney and that, that one as well could fail randomly when nobody was expecting it. Both of hers and Link’s eyes met, while Scout was distracted with one of his toys he brought with himself. “Test us.” Link stated, glancing back over at Hayes. “Maybe one of us is a match.” There was hope in his voice, his eyes, too.

“Okay,” Hayes nodded. “Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be back.”

The second the doctor left, closing the curtain shut to give the family company, Amelia was walking up to Link, wrapping an arm around his waist and giving his tall body a side hug. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Link’s arms were wrapping around Amelia’s, pulling her closer into him as if that was even possible before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “He’s going to be okay.”

________

Link was a match and Amelia was not.

It was good news that at least one of them were able to help with a kidney transplant and they wouldn’t have had to put their son on the donors list. There were many concerns, too many for the two of them to be able to calm their minds and their nerves. Link’s initial concern was that he wouldn’t be able to give his kidney due to his health history, his cancer and all, but they eventually found out that since it’s been over three years since his last cancer treatment he was perfectly okay to donate his kidney. The other concern running through Amelia’s mind was that she felt like this was her fault, her son already needed an organ transplant by the age of five and she was blaming herself. Blaming herself for not noticing sooner, blaming herself because it could be a birth defect and she found herself thinking of every possible reason that her baby could be sick, finding reasons to blame herself.

Hayes promised he’d figure out the reason why his kidney was failing, saying he’d have to sit down and actually take a look because he didn’t understand it. He told them to take their son home for the night, get a good nights rest and come back in the morning so that they could get started, and hopefully have some answers.

Scout was rubbing his eyes on the car ride home, dozing in and out of a light sleep while occasionally letting out a whine, saying “Mommy, I’m tired and I don’t feel good.” So the second they got home, Amelia was taking Scout to his room to put him down for bed.

She tucked him into bed, giving him a kiss on his forehead and running her hands through his hair softly. “Goodnight, angel, I love you. Daddy also loves you and you need to get a good sleep because we have a very big day tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mommy I love you.” Scout said softly, pulling the blanket up higher to his chin, a smile tugging at his lips. She could see Link in him, so many of the same features and she thought he was beautiful.

“I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.” She whispered before turning off the lamp next to his bed and exiting the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Link was standing in the hall, beside his door, obviously eavesdropping.

“Eavesdropping?” She asked, them both making their way down the hall to their bedroom.

“No, I was just walking by.” She knew he was lying but she dropped it, sitting down on the bed, bringing the blanket up to cover her legs.

Amelia fell silent and Link noticed, sitting down on the bed as well but sitting directly across from her, pulling her closer to him. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay, I’m a match, everything is going to work out.”

“Was this my fault?” She muttered, her eyes glancing down at the bed. “Did something happen in the pregnancy? Is this a birth defect? Am I a bad mom for not noticing that he was getting sick? Was there something I could have done?” Amelia was rambling, something she often did. Link shook his head, grabbing both of her hands in his.

“Scout is very happy, you’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t beat yourself up and blame yourself up without knowing the facts,” his voice was soothing and soft.

“The facts are, Scout is loved deeply by both of us and he’s happy and the other fact is that we have a match, and I’m willing to do it. He will be okay, Amelia.” He brushed a stray piece of brown hair away from her face, her hair was soft and her eyes were deep blue and Link always seemed to find himself getting lost in them.

“Just breathe, one day at a time,” he chimed, a smile washing over his face. “That’s the saying, right?”

She leaned forward so that their lips were connecting, both of them trying to get as close as they possibly could and she was practically falling into his lap, her hands resting on his knees for support before she brought one hand up to his jawline.

Maybe he was right, Scout was going to be okay. They have a donor, there’s nothing else wrong, everything will work out just as it needs to be.

But even though Link calmed her down, and reassured her, that thought, maybe she could’ve noticed sooner will still be sitting in the back of her mind for the rest of the night.

#amelink #ameliashepherd #link and amelia #amelia x link #atticus link #ameliafics #amelia #ameliaandlink #greysanatomyfics #greys anatomy #stories

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

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You know that trope where after a battle everyone is celebrating but one of the characters don’t realise they’ve been injured but pull their hand away from their side and it’s covered in blood, everyone is looking at them with horror and rush to their side as the character falls to their knees? Imagine if that happened but with the human liaison and the bots of the LL

Oh you mean one of the SACRED tropes?? Heck yeah I do it's darn near my bread and butter when daydreaming, and for our Lost Light bots...

The BIGGEST variable is what bots are present and their relationship to the human, but regardless of those a number of things are probably constant, especially when one considers the tiny and delicate nature of humans. No bot is unaware of how easily they can lose you. Not in theory, anyway. Seeing your body break is a lot, for each of them in their own way, especially if you're just coming back from victory...

Bots like Tailgate, Swerve, and Nautica are quick to go into an open panic. Without a plan, they'll rush to your side the instant they see crimson on your palm, knowing only that you need help and must undoubtedly be in pain but running far too deeply on emotions to form a plan. Their hands will likely hover in uncertainty before securing a hesitant grip to keep you sitting up, in the least.

This contrasts with the medics like Ratchet, First Aid, Velocity and Ambulon, who move with immediate purpose to stem the bleeding. Don't mistake action for calm, however. These quickly moving bots are just as worried to see your injuries as those who lose themselves to their panic. Having training just helps them channel their energy, but like the others, their sparks are filled with agony to see you in pain and their voices are softened to comfort you.

Others, like Rodimus, Rung, Skids, and Drift are somewhere in between. They have control but no training to assist you medically, so their first move is to offer encouragement and reassure you through the pain and delirium. Though they obviously are terrified as well, they don't hesitate to cradle your tiny form and shush your weak queries, encouraging you to save your strength.

Some of the more action oriented, like Ultra Magnus, Cyclonus, Chromedome and Rewind, but especially Whirl, will want to get you help before anything else can happen. Some reasurances will come from them, yet their primary focus will be on securing aid however possible, and if that means carrying you there they won't hesitate to do so. Like everyone else though, they don't stop worrying from the moment they see you're hurt.

Some particular reactions to note are;

Swerve- Will burst out begging for you to be alright and then feel really bad for doing so, thinking he was "guilt tripping" you with his emotions.

Tailgate- Cries almost on reflex, but is quickest to slip your little hand in his so you have something to hold on to while the pain starts to kick in.

Nautica- Can't help panicking because she's just done enough human research to know you're in trouble, but not enough to help, which tears her apart.

Ratchet- Breaks his calm only for an instant upon seeing the wound, because he has to fight to remember human medical treatment over ingrained Cybertronian.

First Aid- Of all the medics is the most openly nervous, due largely to inexperience with your biology, but you know this only because his voice trembles.

Velocity- Has the least trouble with your size due to dexterity, but tries to reassure you the most of any medic, as she knows there's little she can do for pain.

Ambulon- Immediately worries about where to actually begin, despite his training, because the alien nature of your anatomy has him worried he may make things worse.

Rodimus- He's actually the most tearful of his group, even if he ignores them while he talks, because he blames himself for you being here at all.

Rung- Undoubtedly the gentlest bot of them all, tenderly shushing you as he promises help is on the way, and he even supports your head for the sake of comfort.

Skids- The biggest surprise in terms of his mannerisms, he's calm and gentle as he whispers solace in his thick but pleasant sounding accent.

Drift- For someone so focused on positive energy, he really struggles the most to keep calm, and makes up for it by talking with a smile to distract you.

Ultra Magnus- Some might have found the way he lifted you and started moving cold, but one glance in his optics reveals that he is afraid.

Chromedome and Rewind- Work as a team, with the former running and the latter using small hands to carry you, while both talk as casually as possible.

Cyclonus- To strangers he's unstoppable and unfeeling, but he's an internal wreck at the sight of you in his hands, particularly due to how quickly you seem to bleed.

Whirl- Without a doubt, his reaction is the angriest, but he keeps that rage focused on motivating you to stay alive like an aggressive coach.

Support me here if you like my writing! Every donation helps me secure more time to create, and the same goes for commissions, which are always available!

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volleyball-dontknowher · 4 years

Note

Heyy could you do an imagine of tsuki seeing his s/o in a short skirt so he teases her by running his fingers up and down her thigh n then lead to stuff in the bedroom? ;)

Two thirsty Tsukki posts in a row!! Yes anon!! I hope this one isn’t too much like the one from yesterday, I tried to make them different but I just see Tsukishima as a dominant dirty-talker in both of these situations so please enjoy!!

I do not own this gif

Warning: NSFW, dirty talk, oral, slight daddy kink at the end

Words: 2.1 k

Requests are open!!

A/N: I am donating blood today and it’s a great thing to do but always leaves me feeling weird so please send me good vibes and maybe things to distract me because my brain is going to be mush trying to think of what to write and I only have 1 request left!!

You understood, you really did. Tsukishima had a lot on his mind and you were not always at the top of his list of his to do list. The past few weeks Tsukki has had a lot happening with volleyball but now that they are over you want him to move you back up to where you were on his priority list. At this point you’d tried subtle hints, flirty comments and even an inappropriate text or two but those were always responded to with a snarky comment and over with. You needed to show your man that you needed attention and you needed it now.

Today Tsukki had practice until one and you knew this was going to be your perfect time to strike, you took a shower, got dressed and waited until it was almost time for you to get the attention you need.

It was time and you were nervous, the plan was perfect, you are going to go to the gym claiming that you were just in the area and wanted to walk home with Tsukki. This would be super appreciated if you weren’t going to try and rile him up by talking with all of his teammates before you left. On top of it all you wanted to tease him but not make it so obvious that all you would get was some teasing, so you decided to wear a gray crewneck and a short black skirt. This outfit was perfect because then it would just happen to look like an accident that your skirt was obviously too short to wear in public.

When you got to the gym you were immediately greeted by some of his enthusiastic teammates sitting on the bench and went over to them to say hello. Tsukki was heading to the locker room to change when you first walked in so he hardly glanced twice at you, but when he walked back in and saw you with his teammates he almost choked on his water.

The other boys notice this and back themselves out of the conversation and head towards the locker rooms to change. This left you sitting on the bench and Tsukki standing there in front of you, you can’t help shifting your gaze to be looking into your lap. His eyes haven’t left you this entire time and you couldn’t handle not knowing what he was thinking. Before you could even ask he took a step closer to you, leaned down, put one hand on your thigh and whispered, “don’t come to MY practice looking like a slut unless you want to be treated like one.”

No you did not was all he could think when he saw you, you didn’t really come here dressed in something like that. He was now both pissed off and completely aroused. He made his way over to you just in time to catch you laughing with his teammates.

“Hi Tsukki I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, I was just in the area and knew your practice was ending so I wanted to see if you wanted to walk home with me,” you smile up at him giving him the puppy eye’s that he can’t refuse. He doesn’t respond to you, his eyes are focused on you and you can’t help but get nervous under his intense stare.

Your eyes went wide and you couldn’t help feel the arousal go straight to your core. You made eye contact with him and let out a little whimper before he squeezed your thigh and sat on the bench next to you and the moment he did his teammates flooded back into the gym to grab their final items before leaving. Tsukki bent down and pretended to be fixing his shoes with one hand while the other had a vice grip on your upper thigh. When he was done he abruptly got off of the bench and went to finish packing his bag so he could take you home. The moment Tsukki got off of the bench one of his teammates came and sat down next to you, complimenting how nice you looked today and you smiled at him and glanced back at Tsukki to see him stiffen up and he came back to sit next to you on the bench.

When he sat down next to you he subtly put his hand back on your thigh and gave it a quick squeeze, you quickly glanced at him and his eyes were steady on his teammate and before you knew it he had excused the two of you so you could get home and have some lunch. You both got up and walked out of the gym, you were nervous that Tsukki hadn’t said anything or even looked at you since you left the gym. You had no idea what was on his mind but as you were walking you grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze before interlocking your fingers with his. This gets a little reaction from him, he looks down at you for a brief moment and goes back to looking straight ahead. You finally arrive at your apartment and the two of you enter in silence as you both take off your shoes. Once you are both done he wastes no time picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walking into the bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and sets you down.

“Strip” he commands.

You look up at him with a confused expression and you can’t make yourself move.

“Look how dumb you are, completely in love with my cock, now stop teasing and put your pretty lips around my cock and show me how much you love it.” you can’t help but notice the way that he licks his lips and looks down at you.

“If you want to dress like a whore and parade around in public then I am going to treat you like a whore. Now strip and get on your knees.”

You can’t help but feel instantly aroused as you pull off your bra and sweatshirt before slowly pulling down your skirt while making eye contact with him. He let out a long groan and grabbed your panties and pulled them off of you. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed you down onto your knees. You knew exactly what he wanted from you and you wasted no time unbuttoning his pants and pulling them to his ankles, while your fingertips played with the hem of his boxers you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his hardened member causing him to groan and lightly buck into your face. You pulled his boxers off and gave him a moment to kick off his pants completely before you pushed him back and had him sitting on the edge of the bed. You crawled over to him and wrapped your hand around his length stroking it a few times while you bit red marks onto the side of his thighs.

You waste no time licking up the underside of his length and you can feel him shudder below you. You do it twice more before his hands lock into your hair, “Don’t be a fucking tease, suck me off.” This sends heat straight to your core and you can’t help but wrap your lips around his tip and give him a light suck, he lets out a deep moan as you continue to work his head in your mouth and use your hands to stroke the rest of his shaft. You then start to bob your head further down his length, going down quickly then pulling almost all the way off and kitten licking his tip. This causes Tsukishima to become completely undone moaning curse words and your name over and over as you continue.You take it a step further and take his length all the way to the back of your throat as you fondle his pair between your fingers. This causes him to throw his head back as he thrusts his hips up into your mouth.

You look at him and nod slightly, he smacks your ass, causing you to jump. “What was that?”

“You’re such a whore. You really thought that you could tease me at practice like that and not get in trouble.”

You moan around his length which causes him to pull on your hair as you continue taking him as deep as you could. He was close and you both know it. He starts shallowly thrusting into your mouth as you bob your head on him so that he can get more stimulation. It was only another minute before he was coming down the back of your throat moaning your name. When you are finished swallowing his load you take him out of your mouth with a pop and sit back to look at him. He was glistening lightly with sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead and his eyes were squeezed shut and glasses halfway down his nose. It was a beautiful sight and you couldn’t help but stand up and straddle his lap, pulling him into an unexpected kiss. His eyes shoot open as his lips interlock with yours. He pulls out of the kiss and murmurs “if you wanted my cock so badly you should have just asked. Got it?”

“Y-yes sir.” You are wet and needy and all you want is for him to give you what you want right now. You test the waters and lightly grind down against his half hard member causing you both to moan and his hands to latch onto your hips.

“Don’t think I’m going to give it to you that easily you little whore.”

“Please Kei I’l do anything.”

“No you won’t,” he’s smirking at you now but you can tell you’re about to get your way so you put your fingers into his hair and pull hardly.

“Come on babe or I’m going to have to find someone else to fuck me instead.” The words had barely left your mouth and he had already flipped the two of you over and was stroking his length a few times before lining it up with your entrance and slamming into you. He doesn’t give you any time before he is thrusting into you fast and hard.

“You belong to me. Don’t get any stupid fucking ideas that you don’t. Wear something like that in public again and I’m taking you right fucking there. Got it whore?”

He is going fast and hard and you can’t help but moan over and over. He smacks your breasts and pinches them between his fingers, “answer me Y/N or you’re not coming for a month,” he mocks.

“Yes yes yes Tsukki please, I’m yours all yours, Kei please let me come please I won’t ever do that again please I need you to make me come please,” you’re so close to the edge and he knows it, but if you don’t satisfy him with your begging you are going to end up left here unfinished, not allowed to finish for a month, and he’s going to hold you to it. Lucky for you this seemed to do the trick for him and he goes to your neck, biting and sucking marks all down the side of your neck, claiming you as his. His pace is relentless as he pounds you into the mattress so perfectly that you can feel yourself clenching around him as he hits the deepest spots inside of you. You want nothing more than to be allowed to come around him and you are willing to do anything for it. You try to get him to touch you more as he continues his ruthless pace trying to get you both to finish, but he doesn't fall for it and is waiting for you to beg for it.

“Please make me come, touch me please, I’m your whore, daddy,” you manage to choke out between moans. You can tell that was exactly what he needed to hear because in an instant he is finishing inside of you moaning your name while one of his hands goes to your clit and the other one wraps around your neck squeezing lightly.

“Come for me.” He’s still thrusting into you at the same intense pace when you finally release all over his length screaming his name. He slows down and helps you through your orgasm before pulling out of you and attaching his lips to your neck to leave one final mark.

“I swear to god Y/N, the next time I have to punish you like that you won’t be able to walk for days.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Karasuno #karasuno #karasuno imagines #karasuno headcannons #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #requests open #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima imagine

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Rose Stem Asphyxiation

Summary: In one life, Hilise and Gabrielle try to be sisters.

Rating: T+

Warnings: References to violence, murder mostly fraticide, suicide, child abuse... Canon-typical stuff, tbh, even if this is canon divergence.

Notes: I just don’t get enough opportunities to write fucked up sisterly relationships and if Untouchable Lady is going to give me a dynamic that I think has potential, then I’m gonna go for it. Sorry that there’s no Axion. There’s no male characters at all beyond a couple of cursory mentions. Sorry~

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“Hiliseeee!”

Gabrielle tackles her arm with innocent glee, but there’s a maid nearby who flinches. Unperturbed, Gabrielle beams up at her. The perfect image of the adorable little sister.

It should be satisfying if not endearing. No matter what Hilise does, it’ll always be Gabrielle who is the darling of the Inoaden household.

And yet, Hilise remembers the first time she saw Gabrielle embrace their father.

The way Gabrielle embraces her right now.

And the bitter resentment that stains her soul burns like a fresh wound.

“Are you going out, sis?” Gabrielle asks, and her bright inquiry snaps her from her dark mood. “I can come, right?”

No, it’s different.

The way Gabrielle squeezes her arm is with a hint of desperation. Unease. Gabrielle’s usually effortless smile twitches at its edges.

“Of course you can come,” Hilise says, watching Gabrielle relax.

Gabrielle who nuzzles against her, giggling all the while.

Gabrielle who has never had to fear their father, but her fear here is quite justified.

Hilise could kill her, after all. Has killed her before, in fact, albeit in a past life.

And she could never quite forget that look of sheer terror.

How Gabrielle cowered, scrambling back pathetically and looking up with those usually bright eyes torn up with hideous tears.

Hilise had let her scream her throat out raw. Begging for someone—anyone—

That...had perhaps been too cruel of her.

Next time, she’ll just snap Gabrielle’s neck first. What good came from saving her for last? If it was meant to be mercy, it was a poor execution.

The two sisters go shopping and it’s overall an uneventful trip.

She already knows there’s no usurping Gabrielle’s status as a darling, but at the very least, she can play the role of a loved older sister. Rather, she can pretend.

Unlike her father and her brother who will never truly love her—will never even pretend to love her, Gabrielle is different.

Gabrielle will give her easy smiles and shower her with easy affection. Gabrielle will offer her jewelry and adornment and this time, it wouldn’t be a mere childish prank. Even now, Gabrielle enjoys treats with her, humming with pleasure.

Hilise smiles at her mildly, but it feels miserable. Doesn’t fit quite right on her face, either. Well. It’s not too bad. Better than her disastrous relationship with Christian. At least Gabrielle lacks the depth to hate this arrangement.

Gabrielle is happy as long as she is doted on and spoiled.

It’s as enviable as it is contemptible.

“So, for the next ball,” Gabrielle is saying. “There’s this dress I really want to wear. You should see it! It’s going to be the start of a new fashion trend!”

She is well aware.

“I’m sure,” she replies simply, meaning it. “However, you are looking to impress Christian Parvenon as well, right?”

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Gabrielle asks, eyes alit with anticipation. She’s so radiant it makes her stupid. “I don’t want him able to keep his eyes away! Oh, but, you should get dressed up too all nice and pretty too, sis.” A touch of discomfort at Gabrielle’s smile. “As long as you don’t distract Christian, then it’s fine...”

Even now, Gabrielle can’t help but be a little entitled. It’s fine. Hilise doesn’t have any interest in him.

“I...” She doesn’t... “I don’t really care about getting a husband.”

“You don’t?!” Gabrielle gasps, aghast at the idea. She’s just too naïve to not be sincerely surprised. “Do you not like anyone?!”

“No.” There is no use in hesitating or drawing it out. “I’m not.”

“You should let me introduce you,” her sister says, already excited. “There are plenty of handsome bachelors from good families! I hear aaaaaaall about them!” She brags, proud of the social life she has that Hilise was never allowed. “I know all the gossip, too! I’ll make sure not a single scandalous guy enters the equation! You can count on me, dear sister!”

...the thing is that Hilise doesn’t doubt it.

That’s the thing, isn’t it, that Hilise never doubts a word Gabrielle says.

Gabrielle can play pranks, but like this, Gabrielle would never lie. In fact, she offers up answers without even needing to be prodded. Hilise nearly needs to sip her tea like so, and Gabrielle is already chatting up a storm about the aforementioned gossip. Quite spiritedly, at that.

She’s so eager.

So desperate.

As if this is life or death, when it’s just another vapid method of filling space and passing time. Something to do as Hilise waits for the end of this loop.

How shall I attempt dying this time?

She considers, for a second, pushing Gabrielle into it. But with how Gabrielle is still yapping away, Hilise thinks it would be too tedious an avenue to pursue.

It’d be a change of pace, but she’s not like my father nor my brother. She doesn’t have the bloodlust nor the blood running through her veins.

(Or so she thought.)

“Sis!” Gabrielle exclaims, realizing that she is not being listened to. The indignance has her cheeks puffing out. “Are you paying any attention?!”

“I am,” Hilise says simply, thinking of puncturing those perfectly round cheeks with thorns. “It’s just—that I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Why not?!” Gabrielle demands, more out of confusion than frustration. “Don’t you want to...?”

“No.” Hilise doesn’t care to hear the rest. “I don’t want to court, much less marry.”

There’s no point. I won’t be loved either way.

“Y-You can’t just stay alone forever,” Gabrielle points out shakily. “I mean, that’s just...that’s really... Hilise...”

Oh?

Is that pity?

Is that sympathy?

Is Gabrielle sad for her?

Hilise straightens up. She sets down her cup. She folds her hands into her lap. She stares, bores holes into Gabrielle’s twisted-up face from her trembling downturned lips to her downcast eyes.

Gabrielle is at a loss for words for once.

It’s quite the sight.

“Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle perks up immediately. Attentive. Outwardly anxious. Adorable. Precious.

“If I have you,” Hilise says smiling. “I won’t ever be alone, right?”

Gabrielle doesn’t smile back.

Not at first.

When she does, it’s clear she has to make an effort.

“O... Of course...!” She trips over her words. “You’ll always have me...!”

I think...

“I’m glad,” Hilise replies, still smiling. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Gabrielle insists. “We’re sisters, aren’t we? Obviously, I’ll always...”

When I get bored of this...

“...be with you...”

I’m going to throw myself off the roof without a bed of roses to embrace my fall.

She had dreamed of having a normal family once, but it was always a distant, childish dream. Even when given other chances, she had known on some level that it was impossible for her. That she wasn’t meant to be loved by her father and brother—it just couldn’t be helped.

As for Gabrielle, well—Gabrielle filled the void of beloved little sister and daughter. Even if it wasn’t Gabrielle’s fault, that was the simple fact of the matter. At least she was still innocent, Hilise thought.

And Gabrielle could be swayed and won over with such ease. What was the harm, then, in indulging a little? What was wrong with wanting some familial love? Even if it was shallow, it was Gabrielle.

Gabrielle was innocent and lovely, right? Everyone loved her for a reason. Even if Hilise couldn’t be her, she could be with her and pretend, if only for a moment, that Gabrielle loved her.

Gabrielle was bright. Gabrielle was lovely. Gabrielle—was never going to understand.

“You’ll die for Gabrielle’s sake, won’t you?”

Whatever sisterhood she may have wanted, had wanted dearly at that, was just another pipe dream.

There wasn’t much point in wanting it. Not when she was never going to get it no matter what she did. Illusions were always meant to fade and the loop was always going to restart.

“It’s fine, you can come back, so it’s fine. Just bear with dying one more time.”

Her father was always going to hate her. Ricardo was never going to love her. And Gabrielle, well—she was too innocent of the world. Even when she snapped, she was going to be sheltered and protected. Gabrielle could be persuaded to love her, but they weren’t ever going to inhabit the same world. Not when one of them only knew love and the other...knew nothing of the sort, even as she longed so much for it.

Whatever.

Just.

Whatever.

I think I’m done with everything, with both love and family, Hilise thought tiredly. I don’t even care anymore.

The truth is that I could have been fine never being loved. I just wanted someone to worry about me. Did I ever have that, even for a moment? Or was that just a delusion?

It didn’t matter anymore.

It didn’t.

She couldn’t do this anymore. Because regardless of the end, they’re never going to care about her.

Trash till the end, Hilise thought, exhausted. Still...do you want to know something? It wasn’t too bad to pretend for a bit. Thanks for that, Gabrielle.

But I’m still going to throw you away with everything else.

#Untouchable Lady #mahwa #Hilise Inoaden #Gabrielle Inoaden #Magi fics #Idk what to tag this

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puddygeeks · 3 years

Text

𝑾𝒂𝒓 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 - 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑶𝑪 - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 9: 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒔

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Status: Ongoing

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 & 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈'𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Pʀᴇ Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ 1

Chapter Nine

My office felt colder than usual when I returned from my trip, but I suspected that it was mostly due to the lack of the warm BAU team’s presence. It was difficult for me to concentrate on anything whilst Hotch’s offer repeated in my mind and I found myself mentally making a pros and cons list as I worked. There were so many factors to consider. In order to avoid any external influence I was careful to ensure that I made the decision alone, hesitating from discussing it with anyone after Ricky.

Following my brief break away from Interpol, it seemed as if I was even more swamped with work than when I left. It wasn’t long before I was feeling the stress of being spread too thinly between numerous teams. Requests for assistance from each of them mounted up around me and it became a struggle to suitably prioritise them.

As I busied myself with organising a list, a new task flashed up on my screen that made my blood chill. Etienne Vidal had submitted a request for my individual support with researching a suspect list, insisting in the notes that having my undivided attention would have a substantial benefit to this case.

Much to my disdain, I knew that it was only a matter of time before Shepard approved this with the perspective of improving our working relationship. I pushed my hair out of my face to massage my temples. Mentally, I was attempting to convince myself that I could manage another encounter with Vidal.

Before I’d even realised what I was doing, I found myself striding out of my office clutching a few files to my chest and decided to take myself to get a cup of herbal tea from a nearby café.

I felt immediately clearer the moment that I stepped out of the Interpol headquarters. The fresh air flowed through my loose hair, rejuvenating my worn down spirit. The tightly packed streets of Lyon were a welcome sight and I was thankful to at least be blessed with living in such a beautiful, historical city.

Opening up the files to flick through the information inside as I walked, I hoped that my picturesque surroundings might give me a fresh perspective. Even once I had settled within the charming café, I lingered for a while as I waited to feel ready to return to my desk.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to begin strolling back in the direction of the office. I had decided not to overstay my welcome, leaving with my lovingly made hot drink in a takeaway cup and lost myself in documents to distract from the rising feeling of anxiety in my chest. I was completely enthralled in the files as I walked the halls of the building on autopilot, causing me not to notice the voice calling my name in a thick French accent until it was too late.

“My, my, Alice. I hope that you’re not trying to avoid me.”

The absence of formalities caused my stomach to lurch with recognition and I paused on the spot in horror as Vidal blocked my path. When I finally pulled my nose from the papers, I realised that I had been unfortunate enough to be caught in one of the least used hallways in the office.

The only rooms here were disused offices which had been utilised as storage for cold cases, decreasing it’s foot traffic to practically nothing. I had grown accustomed to taking this longer route back to my own space in order to avoid the rest of my team. However, today this plan had backfired, instead meaning that we would be highly unlikely to be interrupted.

“Oh. my apologies, Vidal. I was lost in work.” I answered with a forced smile,

Unwilling to engage in any further conversation I moved to pass him, but he immediately shifted himself to block me from leaving.

“You are so dedicated, ma poupée. It is admirable, but certainly too much for you.” He drawled, making no effort to hide the way that his gaze explored my entire body and his smile afterward made my skin crawl.

“I fear that you may have missed my request on your break, but Shepard has agreed for me to borrow your skills. It will allow you to relax for a while with only one case, and with me.” He explained confidently.

Even with all of the experience of his arrogance, I remained shocked by how genuinely he seemed to believe that he was doing me a favour by trapping me into working alongside him.

“Ah, I hadn’t seen it yet.” I admitted, attempting to contain my disappointment at this revelation so that I didn’t anger him. “Let me just finish the task that I’m on and I’ll find you when I’m done.” I instructed as I strained to keep the nerves from my smile, but it was obvious that he had no intention of allowing me to move yet.

“Come on, Alice. You don’t need to pretend to worry about the others. I should be your only priority.” He insisted, stepping closer to me again and in my efforts to regain some personal space, I ended up trapped between him and the wall. “I know that you have been spending more time with your FBI team recently, but you wouldn’t ever forget about me, would you ma chérie?” He asked, his voice slipping lower whilst his expression grew painfully serious.

Out of an overpowering feeling of intimidation, I shook my head vigorously in response. Vidal only seemed encouraged by his effect on me, smirking arrogantly as his face neared mine and I felt my hands begin to shake with nerves. I prayed for anyone to notice us, as I felt too paralysed with fear to do anything to stop him, but the hallway remained silently empty.

“Well, I do worry. You seem to be working with them more and more frequently. I would imagine that you’re getting to know each other very well. You were rudely defensive of that one young man during our consultation call.” He suggested, thinning his eyes at me suspiciously.

The reminder of my outburst in front of the BAU team caused me to cringe. His words were alarmingly accusatory and I couldn’t deny the feeling that he saw himself as entitled to the details of my life, specifically my love life.

A loud sound caused me to whimper as he pounded his hand against the wall behind me to frighten me, shifting to lean his weight on the surface so that he could confine me in position beneath him.

“There wouldn’t be anything going on between you and this Dr Reid that I should know about. Would there, Alice?” He questioned, the subtlety of his temper failing to escape my notice and I could hardly breathe from the intensity of his stare. “You know how I detest dishonesty.”

“No.” I whispered hurriedly, my voice shaking from stress as any sense of control rapidly dissolved into anxiety.

From my years of study I understood the effect that past trauma had on our natural fight or flight instincts, but experiencing it first hand gave me a level of insight that was frankly horrifying. I willed myself to confront him, to strike him out of my space with the power that my aunt had always encouraged me to own, or even to simply run away, but I had no control against my natural reaction, which was to freeze.

“That’s a good girl.” He breathed, a wicked smile filling his lips as he revelled in my obedience. Much to my terror, he leaned his face suffocatingly close to me and I felt like a caged animal under his gaze. “I don’t know what I would do if you betrayed me like that. You’re too special to belong to anyone else.” He soothed, so deep in his delusion that he was flattering me that it made him completely oblivious to my disgust.

My entire stomach felt as if it might literally drop out of my body as he reached out to push my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering against my cheek nauseatingly. He bit his lip in a way that he must have believed to be seductive and I realised with a new level of panic that he was inching closer, as if he intended to kiss me. My mind spun with a million thoughts as I urged myself to escape, but I couldn’t break out of the survival instinct that held me in place.

“Vidal! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Someone called out at the last possible moment before his lips touched mine and my breath caught in my throat. He seemed incredibly aggravated by the intrusion, taking a moment to compose himself before he finally stepped out of my space. His posture was still as he turned around to address the source of the voice.

“Prentiss. My apologies. I’m afraid that I am rather caught up with assisting Alice at the moment.” He drawled with a polite smile, clearly not even slightly flustered by being caught in the act.

The absolute control in his demeanour was especially chilling. It was an ability that I had seen frequently in the types of people that I assisted in catching for a living, allowing me to understand precisely how dangerous he was capable of being. I could barely think straight as I stared over at Emily who was standing at the far end of the hall.

“Yes. I can see that.” She answered curtly.

It was clear that she had no intention of allowing him to brush this encounter off as she strolled closer to get a better view of the situation. I jumped as I felt one of Vidal’s hands squeeze my arm painfully tight, silently warning me to play along with his ruse.

“Can this wait until later, Madame?” He enquired, the air of calm that he had previously possessed already slipping as he spoke and whilst his gaze was distracted by her, I risked meeting her eyes to communicate a desperate plea for her help.

“No. Actually, it can’t.” Emily insisted, maintaining an authoritative tone as she thinned her eyes at him and I could have burst from the relief of confirming that she had noticed my distress.

“You have an urgent call waiting and I’m afraid that I need Agent Hawthorne’s assistance for myself.” She added, turning her attention to me with concern that was subtle enough to escape Vidal’s notice.

Without any concern for him noticing her actions, she ushered me to come to her. I wasted no time in removing myself from his grip, rushing over to meet her with my eyes glued to the floor nervously. Even so, I could feel her fixing him with a stern glare, before she fell into step with me.

We walked in silence with her positioned at my side in a manner that would prevent anyone else from reaching me and she remained this way every single step back to my office.

As I stepped inside, she hesitated in the doorway to give me the chance to regain some personal space. Whilst I did this she continued to protect me, aligning herself so that entry to the room would be impossible for anyone else.

“I actually don’t have anything that I need you for. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. If there’s anything that I could do to-“

“I’m fine.” I answered abruptly, keen for this situation to be over as quickly as possible and Emily studied me sympathetically. “Thank you for checking on me, but I can handle it from here.” I added, subtly reassuring her that I would take action to protect myself if it was needed.

“I know that you can. If you change your mind, my phone is always on me.” She suggested with a caring smile.

After a few moments of silence, she reluctantly left the room. The moment that she departed, I closed the door behind her and moved furniture in front of it to prevent it from being easily opened again.

Tears of shock rolled down my cheeks as I felt my entire body shaking and I had to wrap my arms around myself to calm my anxiety. It was a method that I had been taught to use in triggering situations, but even knowing that I was barricaded in this room, I couldn’t convince myself to feel safe.

In the depths of my despair, I became aware of the only logical next step for my life. I opened my emails and began drafting a letter of acceptance to Hotch that ended with a simple question.

When can I start?

--⥈--

Emerging from my flight at the Virginia airport felt completely different this time. Despite getting to know it well from the numerous recent visits that I’d made over the past six weeks to get things organised, I was still excited to see it again. It was surreal to inform security that I was actually emigrating instead of visiting and I strolled out into the bright open space of arrivals with a sense of wonder.

Everything felt larger and grander, as if being seen through new eyes. I suspected that viewing it as a new start had a significant effect on my perception. There was even a relaxing scent in the air, something that lured me toward the exit with a feeling of hope and it was as if the strain of the past was melting away with every step that I took.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I noticed that instead of just Penelope waiting for me as we’d agreed, there was an embarrassingly large welcome sign covered in glitter, pom poms and complete with tiny flashing lights. It was being waved by her, Morgan, JJ and a bashful looking Spencer.

“Penelope! You are the absolute worst at no fuss!” I groaned as I reached her and she threw the part of the banner that she had been holding at Morgan so that she could embrace me tightly.

“I don’t care! I wanted to make sure that your new life here starts on the right foot.” She excused as she squeezed the life out of me and the others busied themselves with packing away the banner as I blushed furiously at them over her shoulder. “I can’t believe the day is finally here. I’m so excited! Oh, guys, we almost forgot.” She enthused as she released me to turn back to the group and I glanced nervously at them as she made some insistent gestures.

“Welcome to America!”

The other three were completely out of sync in their half hearted cheer, with Penelope contributing the loudest and most dramatic voice, whilst I smiled at them with burning cheeks.

“You’re all very sweet. Thank you.” I muttered gratefully, wishing that Penelope had at least given me enough of a heads up to wear something less tattered than my moving clothes, which weren’t what I would have chosen for spending time in anyone else’s company than hers.

Thanks to all of my planning visits, which allowed me to leave cases in storage at Ricky’s new place, combined with the fact that he had graciously accepted the boxes of possessions that I shipped to him in advance, I had hardly anything with me. There was no clothing in my flight bag, leaving me with only the white, off the shoulder blouse and ripped denim shorts that I was wearing and the few personal items that I’d needed to take care of myself for the last couple of weeks in France.

Penelope looped her arm through mine as we all moved toward the exit and I had the sensation that the surprises weren’t over just yet.

“So, we’ll start by collecting your stuff and then help you to get settled at the new place.” She announced, already wrapped up in the joy of the day, oblivious to how questioning my gaze was.

“When you say we, you still mean the two of us as we planned, right?” I enquired suspiciously, but the way that she chewed her lip as she considered how to explain herself gave her away.

“Please tell me that she hasn’t already roped all of you into this? I’m sure you have better ways to spend your days off than carrying my stuff around.” I gasped, glancing between the three other members of our group in horror, only to be met with amused smiles at my outrage.

“You got a moving truck booked?” Morgan interrogated, crossing his arms at me as if he was already prepared for my protests, but I could only shake my head cluelessly. “Well, it just so happens that I have one on loan from a friend for the day. You already know that I’m not about to let my baby girl spend her day doing a hundred trips in the car, when I can get this done in one. Just let it go, Poppins.” He asserted, glancing over at Penelope with a conspiratorial smile and I looked to JJ and Spencer in a silent plea for help.

“What kind of team would allow their newest member to struggle?” JJ asked, her kind nature seeping into her words. “You’ve got enough to worry about with a move this big. Let us help you to do this at least.” She added, smiling at me warmly and Spencer cleared his throat to gain my attention.

“You’d also be wrong in the assumption that we have anything better to do.” He shrugged comically, causing Morgan to frown at him in blatant disapproval.

“Hey. Speak for yourself, kid!” He remarked, knocking Spencer’s arm slightly in the kind of manner that an older brother would to annoy their younger sibling. “I see you people enough at work. I definitely have other things to do than follow you around on my weekends, too. I’m just here to help out a friend.”

“Wait. Does that include me?” Penelope stopped in her tracks, causing a collision amongst all of us as she faced down Morgan with a heavy expression of offence.

“You already know that it doesn’t, Sweetness. I can never see enough of you.” He crooned, earning a pleased smile from her before he turned back to me. “So, where’s our first stop, new girl?”

“Well, my cousin is working today, but he’s arranged for his housemate to let me in to collect my things. Here’s the address.”

--⥈--

“Ally. Please tell me that’s not a ladder up to your bed?” Penelope questioned with a blatant disbelief and I chuckled as I followed her into my new studio, carrying a case full of clothing up the stairs.

“I thought you’d like that. It’s quirky.” I remarked as I dragged the case inside behind her, catching her glancing around at my home.

The place was remarkably small, almost feeling full with just the two of us inside. I had to shift awkwardly as I tried to get past her. This had been the main reason for my reluctance about the team assisting us with the move, as I knew that we would be likely to be tripping over each other, rather than benefiting from their help. Judging from Penelope’s reaction, I was already dreading the others coming up from the van.

“It certainly is. It’s just so small.” She commented, looking over at me with concern and I shrugged in response. “I know that you’ll be the only one living here, but I’m worried that you’ll get claustrophobic. I mean, this place is like a bunk bed that grew up to identify as a studio.” She clarified, wanting to ensure that she wasn’t coming across as judgmental, but she didn’t need to worry as I chuckled in agreement.

“You could always stay with me until you find somewhere. I’ll even help you look for a place. It’ll be like a constant sleepover party!” She added enthusiastically, already seeming to get lost in the excitement of this concept.

“As much fun as that sounds, you don’t need to worry. It’s only temporary.” I admitted, causing her to furrow her brows in concern. It was obvious that she was worrying I had some secret plans to leave her again soon.

“I don’t have a long term contract for this place. Ricky recommended the owner as someone that he usually rents holiday homes like this from. I’ve got this place until the end of the month to give me a chance to get to know the area better, figure out what kind of place I’m really looking for.” I presented my plan, allowing Penelope to drop her shoulders in relief.

It was difficult to differentiate whether she was more appreciative of the revelation that I wouldn’t be leaving her, or that I wasn’t planning to live here for long. Either way, my explanation seemed to have put her mind at ease.

“Well, that’s a good thing. Because this place is not up to standard for a proper tenancy.” Morgan announced as he carried the heaviest box inside and though I scurried to get out of his way, Penelope seemed quite content to allow him to squeeze past her. “I’m gonna give your locks a proper check before I leave. They’re looking a little too old for my liking.” He added as he dropped the box, turning to examine the door with a sceptical expression, even from across the room.

“Hey. As the person with the most experience busting them open, I’ll trust your opinion on locks.” I teased, earning a cheeky smile before Morgan headed back out to grab some more stuff, taking Penelope with him.

After their comments, I took another look at the place and couldn’t understand their concern. It was already substantially nicer than the miserable flat that I’d rented in France, even if it was smaller. Sure, it was a tight squeeze to navigate, but it had all of the essentials. Unfortunately, most of them were contained within the same four walls, but I just thought of it as cosy.

The kitchen was simply a couple of cupboards along the side of the room where the dimensions more closely resembled those of a hallway than a living space. There was a sofa pushed up against the end of the cabinets to almost create a lounge and above it was a platform with a mattress which I felt gave the whole place a treehouse vibe. Lastly, there was a separate small bathroom and some stairs at the back of the studio that led to a rooftop that could almost be described as a balcony. It certainly wasn’t glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, but it would give me a place to stay.

JJ entered the room struggling with a large box and I rushed over to take it from her before she hurt herself.

“This has got to be the third box labelled books so far, Alice. I’m seriously getting worried about you.” She chuckled playfully, looking around the place with interest during the time that I found a surface to dump the box. “Seriously. How many books do you need?” She asked with a warm sparkle in her eyes and before I could think of an excuse for my addiction, Spencer made his way inside.

“Comparatively, Alice's collection isn’t especially unreasonable. In the middle ages, the purchasing of multiple books was considered to be a hobby that was suitable exclusively for wealthy individuals.” He launched into defending me without a second thought and I was glad to have his support to push aside the embarrassment that I was feeling. “In the present day, the largest collection of books belongs to the Library of Congress, which houses more than 170 million items.”

“Wow. The dream.” I breathed, for a moment losing myself in the fantasy of being able to own a library of my own, until I was distracted by JJ looking between Spencer and I with a suspicious smile, leaving us to geek out without having to pretend that she was interested. “I’m sure that still wouldn’t keep you busy for long, though.” I teased as I turned to face Spencer and he smiled shyly at me.

“Will you be alright here?” He asked as he began to assess the space.

I had to admit that his concern had caught me off guard. The others were often open with their emotions, but Spencer was quieter, almost as if he was still deciding whether he could be himself around me. Although I hoped that in time he would relax, I had no intention of pushing him. For now, I was simply pleasantly surprised to find that he was just as protective of me as the rest of the team.

“Oh, sure. It’s kinda bare right now, but once I get some books on display and add a bunch of plants, it’ll be great.” I defended, hoping that he wouldn’t sense the nerves that I still held for this move. “Maybe I’ll even get some fairy lights for the edge of that loft bit.” I added thoughtfully as I pointed toward my bed, causing him to peek over at me with confusion, but before I could question it Morgan charged back inside the apartment with a heavy case containing a large majority of my clothing.

“She means string lights, pretty boy. It’s a Britishism.” He explained, causing Spencer to smile at me as if endeared by the idea and I shrugged, unaware that this was a term that was uncommon here. “That’s everything from the van. I don’t think we’re all gonna fit in your place, so how about grabbing some lunch out? I know a joint nearby.”

“Sure. My treat for all your help.” I offered as Spencer and I began to make our way to the door, only for Morgan to snatch my keys from my hand to test the locks protectively.

Once he was satisfied that the apartment was safe, we regrouped with the others and followed his lead to a small bar a couple of blocks away. Even in the distance, it was clear that it was a lively venue. On closer examination, I noticed a couple of decorative choices that indicated that it was probably a sports bar.

Everyone chatted happily as Morgan arranged a table outside in the sun, seeming as if he knew the owners and we took our seats whilst he caught up with them. The waiter provided us with menus whilst gesturing to Morgan, who joined us with a bright smile.

“Now. I know that you’re used to all of your food being boiled and beige, but you’re not living in the war anymore. It’s time to get modern. This here is some real American food that’s gonna blow your mind.” He announced, flashing me a cheeky wink but I simply rolled my eyes at him.

“Ah, yes. I’m in America now, the land of heart attack burgers and copious amounts of salt on absolutely everything. I’ll need bigger clothes in no time.” I retorted, causing laughter to pass around the table and Morgan shook his head at me.

“Alright. You just reserve your judgement for now. You’re gonna eat your words.” He argued, throwing a menu at me insistently.

Flipping through the pages of the menu, I was overwhelmed by choices. Though I’d experienced a few months of living in the States as a teenager and had actually spent the first four years of my life here, I considered myself proudly British at heart. I knew that the lifestyle was going to be the hardest adaptation for me to make.

With little other options that felt familiar, I ordered a grilled sandwich with fries and an ice tea, with Morgan raising a brow at me judgmentally for somehow slipping tea into my meal.

“So, Alice. Do you know anyone here other than us?” JJ asked, moving the conversation away from the British vs American war that Morgan and I had begun. “I heard that you’ve got family in the area?”

“Well, I’ve got Ricky, as you know. He is starting his second year at the University of Virginia, so he’s really local. Then I have two aunts in Florida and my grandma in New York. Plus, my dad who is on the West Coast somewhere, I think?” I listed openly, realising as I got to the end that I wasn't exactly sure where my flaky father was living at the moment.

“You’re not in touch with your dad?” Morgan investigated, studying me with an obvious curiosity and I shuffled awkwardly in my seat.

“Is it that obvious?” I chuckled under my breath, attempting to make light of it and I noticed Penelope out of the corner of my eye gesturing at him to drop his line of questioning. “He has a habit of moving from one fancy apartment to another in various superficial cities along the coast. He’s still out there chasing his Hugh Hefner, playboy dream.” I clarified, attempting not to cause them all to feel that I was shutting them out from the details of my life so soon, but Penelope dove in to change the topic.

“I actually made you something to help you to get situated.” She announced, dropping a large binder onto the table that caused me to stare back at her in confusion. “This bad boy has all of the details for local laundromats, gyms, take outs and everything else that you could possibly need, all based on our personal recommendations. I know that it can be hard to get into the swing of things in a new place, let alone a new country, so hopefully this makes that process a little less daunting for you.” She smiled and as I scanned the faces of the team around the table, I could tell that they had each contributed to this.

“That is so considerate!” I breathed, taking a quick flick through the pages with amazement and it was easy to tell how much work had gone into creating it. “Thank you so much. I honestly can’t even tell you how much this is going to help.”

“We’re here for you, Alice. We’re a team.” Spencer emphasised, meeting my eyes with a kind smile and my heart felt full at the sight of it.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

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Advantages of studying [Remus Lupin x Reader] - Requested

Title: Advantages of studying Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 22 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this cute request by winsalo on Wattpad a couple of days ago. Summary: You have been helping Remus with his Potions essay, whilst slowly falling for the kind boy. However you are rather shy around Remus and find it hard to make the first step. Request: [x]

"Please could you do one with Remus and a girl called Evangeline but Eve for short. They become sloe whilst studying together. I love your writing by the way." - Winsalo [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You have been sitting in the library for the past two hours, studying with Remus. Studying might have been a strong use of word as you have been trying not to stare at him the whole time. You kept your face down, pretending to read the lines of your potions book, but you couldn't even recall a word. Of course, you couldn't. Although you kept glancing at the book, your eyes often wondered to the brown haired boy sitting across the table.

Potions wasn't his strongest subject, therefore you have been helping him with the essay you were given by Professor Slughorn. He was so concentrated on his parchment, his brows furrowed, whilst trying to write down his thoughts. At times he ran his fingers through his locks with a deep sigh leaving his lips as if it helped him in concentrating. His long fingers wrapped themselves around his quill, holding them firmly in place. It made you wonder what kind of a boy he was.

You have known him since first year and you could only see a kind side of his, but you knew there was always more to people. You wished to get to know him better, you wished to talk to him more often. Unfortunately for you, he was quite reserved. Unless he needed help with studying, he didn't talk to you much. He did wave at you or smiled gently while nodding when you met in class, but he never really initiated a conversation. You wished he did though. You were rather shy when it came to him. You never really dared to get close to him, feeling as if he was trying to keep everyone away from himself, other than his three best friends.

You admired him for his smart brain, his kind manners, his polite behaviour, but you rarely saw those sides and unfortunately your lack of knowledge on him forced you to admire only his physical appearance. You didn't complain though. He was dashingly handsome and a sweet candy to the eyes.

You tried very hard not to stare, but it seemed to be impossible. He flipped through the pages of the book he was taking his notes from, before he lifted his face to look up at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You felt like you have been caught out and you were unable to hide the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, but instead of looking at him, your eyes wondered to the shelves full of old and dusty books. You were trying to avoid his eyes in case your stupid little brain decided to stare at him once again, creepily.

"Sure." You replied after a moment of silence, digging yourself into your book.

"Look, if you have anything else to do, I can finish it from here." He spoke, making you frown as you finally looked into his dark, green eyes and shook your head.

"No, not at all. I guess, I am just a bit distracted, that's all." You let a small smile spread across your face.

"Can I help?" He asked, but you shook your head, knowing this was a battle you had to fight with yourself.

"It's nothing important." You tried to reassure him.

"Well, it seems to me that it is. You haven't written a word on your parchment." He pointed at your paper and for a second you could feel your face go white as your blood rushed out of your cheeks.

"Oh..." You breathed, realisation hitting you hard.

"So...?" He tried again, but you just shook your head, quickly starting to write your essay, knowing you had barely a few hours to finish it. Remus didn't try to talk to you again, seeing that you were completely lost in your studies. He smiled softly as he looked at your hunched form, your complete attention on your paper.

Hours passed by when Madam Pince walked over, her nose held high, his brows raised, impatiently waiting for the students to leave the library. You both packed your books, notes, quills and inks, putting them all in the bags, ready to leave. As you walked out of the library, Remus placed a hand on the small of your back and halted, turning towards you. You raised a brow at his unexpected actions, but gave him your undivided attention.

"I guess, you don't have to tutor me anymore." Remus smiled at you as if he thought it was some kind of a burden on you. However you didn't return his joyful expression. You weren't happy to say the least. You didn't want that gap to stand between you two once again, but you didn't dare to do anything about it. He clearly didn't want you as anything more than a tutor.

"Yes, but if you have any questions, you can always ask me." You reassured more yourself than him, hoping for him to come to you eventually.

"I will, thank you." He nodded and offered you a pleased look, before he walked away from you, leaving you to stare at the back of the dark brown jumper he has been wearing. You heaved a deep sigh as you walked up to your dormitory, concluding that you have been left to ogle over his mere presence from afar once again. Arriving to your dorm, you threw yourself on your bed and hid your face in your pillow, hoping for this feeling you have been harbouring for him to just disappear.

The next couple of days have been quite. You watched him sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table at breakfast, you stared at his back on Potions and Transfiguration, being seated right behind him, you gazed at his laughing form, sitting by the lake with his friends. You wished to be part of all his experiences, but you knew your love for him was only one sided. Love, indeed. You came to love the oblivious boy, making it so much harder to watch him from afar.

You were sitting in your dorm room, legs spread across the floor, back leaning against the edge of the bed. You have been sighing for minutes straight, before your friend walked up to you and sat down besides you.

"You have to stop this. Why don't you just ask him out?" She asked curiously.

"I can't. He... he is Remus. He wouldn't date with someone like me." You let out a defeated deep breath, head hanging low in sorrow.

"What does that even mean? Have you looked into the mirror? You are beautiful, you are smart, you are funny. Who wouldn't want to date you?" She asked with a sceptical look on her face.

"Clearly noone." You huffed. You couldn't recall receiving a single confession recently.

"Erm... yeah. You have been staring at Remus so obviously, that everyone is aware of it." She raised her brow knowingly.

"No, I have not." You argued, but she shook her head.

"Yes, you have. I could walk around the dorm, knocking on doors and people would confirm it without hesitation." She smirked. "The only person who doesn't realise your feelings is Remus. Look, he is a nice guy, ask him out. Even if he rejects you, which believe me, he won't, you won't have to be scared of being made fun of, because he is just not wired that way." She tried to convince you. While you knew she was right, you were still scared to let him know of your feelings.

"His friends could make fun of me. He could start avoiding me. I could even scare him away and that would be beyond painful." You spoke, but your friend just shook her head.

"Excuses. Do it!" She said as if it was that simple. "Do it!" She repeated it once again with a raised brow. "If you don't I will." She grinned mischievously.

"What?" Your eyes grew wide in shock.

"I will tell him myself." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"No." You replied, suddenly grabbing her shoulder.

"Will you do it then?" She asked, waiting for a clear confirmation.

"Fine, I will." You spoke in an unsure tone.

"Good! Now let's go to bed and first thing on the morning you will confess your undying love." She giggled, making you grimace at her happy face.

Slumber took over you harder than ever as you tried to think through all the scenarios that could happen. As much as you wished to think of all the happy endings, somehow your mind wondered over to the dark side, imagining all the different kind of rejections you expected to receive. Deep sighs left your lungs on numerous occasions, to a point where your friend woke up and threw a pillow at your face. You growled at her childish behaviour, but soon finally let your nervous thoughts go and fell into a sweet dream, revolving around Remus.

The next morning you stood in front of your mirror, preparing yourself for the most embarrassing day of your life. You wanted to stay behind and just play the poor, sick student act, but your friend laughed straight in your face and pushed you out the door. You rolled your eyes at her dominant behaviour, but headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast anyway.

Remus was already sitting at the table with his friends, laughing about probably the newest prank they have been planning. You heaved a deep sigh and took your seat, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Come on." Your friend ushered you, but you just shook your head furiously.

"Not in the Great Hall." You frowned.

"Why not?" She asked, her head tilting in confusion.

"Everyone could hear it. Let me do it later." You whispered, not wanting anyone to know that you have been planning something.

"Fine." She huffed and returned to her breakfast.

Classes flew by and since your friend wasn't nagging you, you certainly thought you were off the hook. Oh, what a wrong thought that was. Classes finished and you were sitting outside the Black lake as per your friend's request, studying for your Transfiguration exam. You were deep in your thoughts, but you could just about hear a group of boys laughing loudly at the edge of the lake. You didn't have to think for long to realise it was Remus who was having fun with his group of friends. You turned to your friend, your cheeks heating up, feeling embarrassment coming over you.

"It's time." She said with a cheeky smile, biting into her lower lip. You frowned suspiciously before it all downed on you.

"You knew!" You stated firmly, but she just shrugged with the same smile across her face and nudged your shoulder, telling you to go.

You placed your books and parchment on the grass and stood up hesitantly, while rearranging your wrinkled cloths. You looked back at your friend, hoping for a more empathetic feeling from her, but she just gave you a sceptical look as if she knew you wanted to run away. You knew you had no escape route at this point, but your legs didn't move. You stood there, looking at the man who has stolen your heart, but you just couldn't take the first step.

"Remus." You heard her calling him from beside you and you gave a terrified look to your friend, who simply shrugged it off. "Go." She said as she lowered her head back into her book once again.

Your eyes looked up to the owner of the green orbs, who was curiously searching for a reason why he was called over so abruptly. You met him right in the middle of the land, between both of your friends and stood silently. You exhaled sharply, before deciding to speak up.

"Hey." Your voice was weak and low, he could barely hear you.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, realising your rather nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah..." You spoke hesitantly. "I..." You tried to get your words out, but they just didn't seem to come. "I thought..." You kept attempting to say what you practiced last night, but your mind drew a blank and you started to get more and more scared of the situation. He could see your shaking hands and before you knew it, he grabbed them and squeezed them gently.

"You don't seem okay." He said, worry clear in his voice. His touch made you feel even more terrified and out of mere fear you quickly removed your hands from his. "I'm sorry." He apologised as he realised what he had done.

"No!" You shot up, not wanting him to feel bad for trying to comfort you. "I just... can I be just honest?" You asked, feeling more and more nervous about beating around the bush.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." He chuckled lightly. You heaved a deep sigh and exhaled, repeating the process a couple of times before you took the courage to speak up again.

"Would you go on a date with me?" You asked, your words almost slurring together. Your eyes were attached to his face to see a reaction, but he seemed expressionless.

"What?" He finally spoke, but those were not the words you expected.

"Please, don't let me repeat that." Your tone was begging as you felt the fear growing inside you. As if you could be rejected by simply repeating your words.

"I... I didn't think you would look at me like that." He frowned and you tilted your head curiously.

"Why not?" You asked, knowing that you have been more than obvious about your feelings.

"I don't know. I just didn't see it." He smiled gently, making your heart flutter in hope, but then silence fell up on you, making you anxious about his answer once again. His eyes were fixed on the ground, letting his thoughts take over him.

"You were the only one who didn't." You chuckled awkwardly trying to save the situation and fill in the silent gap.

However it didn't work. Remus stood in front of you with a puzzled expression, trying to find the right answer, while you fidgeted with your hands in nervousness. You felt your heart sunk deeper in sorrow as you started to realise that his silence was perhaps a rejection he didn't dare to say, not wanting to hurt you.

You painfully smiled to yourself, concluding that he was perhaps too kind to reject your advances. You let him think for a while, knowing he was probably searching for the nicest words to tell you, he didn't see you that way, that he didn't think of you as a potential romantic interest. You heaved a deep sigh, eyes still glued to the nervous boy.

"Come on, Moony. You have been drooling over Y/N for the past year. Just say yes." Sirius shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. Your eyes widened at his words and finally Remus looked up at you in shock.

"Damn it." He whispered, but you could just hear it fine. A small smile started spreading across your face, before you started lightly giggling. "That's not how I planned to... yeah." He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous, but it wasn't because he was trying to find words to reject you, but because he didn't know the right words, now that his feelings have been returned. "I guess, that would be a yes then." He smiled happily this time. You could barely contain your excitement, but you tried to hide it anyway. You didn't really know much about Remus' friends, but you were certain that you would like them.

"Good, I'm glad you agreed." You spoke awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

"I would have been stupid not to." He chuckled.

"Go get some Moony." Sirius walked up behind him and patted him on the back, pushing him forward. Things happened so fast, you could barely process the situation. One second Remus was standing in front of you, smiling awkwardly, the next he stumbled over to you, his hands on your upper arms to steady himself, his lips attached to yours.

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath stuck in your lungs as you felt his plump lips against yours. He quickly stepped back, fear clearly projected in his eyes.

"I am so sorry. Sirius just pushed me and I..." He tried to explain everything at once, his words a mess, his arms gesturing all over.

"It's fine." You smiled softly, trying to contain the cheerful screams you wanted to let out so badly. "But next time, maybe after the date." You giggled, which caused a relived sigh to leave his lips, before a smile appeared across his face.

You have never felt more excited in your life, than in the moment he said yes and for the record, there wasn't just one or two kisses, but many more throughout the years.

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