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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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Hey, I have kind of hc'ed myself into a corner. I'm working on a oneshot based on someone else's art, which takes place at an office christmas party. Somewhere along the way I started hc'ing one of the chars as jewish tho. I went through your tags and it appears to me that it wouldn't actually be a problem for him to be at the party, as long as it's not overly religious? (Which it isn't. It's just a "christmas party" because of christian culture.) My main question is now, what would be good, small ways to keep the character noticeably jewish, esp in a relatively short story? My thoughts so far were that he'd probably object to someone putting a santa hat on him? And/or his colleagues might thank him for taking some extra shifts during christmas itself so they can stay home (in exchange for covering shifts for him during Chanukah? I know it's not a major holiday but around the same time so an exchange would make sense?) Mostly I'm just looking for every-day details, maybe something you guys would like to see more of? Thanks in advance!

Jewish character attending office Christmas party, also Chanukah

I like thanking him for working on Christmas — but working for him "on Chanukah" really doesn't make a whole lot of sense because you wouldn't be missing work. Recognition of the holiday is done mostly through lighting candles at night. If you want the exchange to be fair, they could always have traded just for him traveling at a different time — like oh, thanks for working for us on Christmas, now I'll work for you the following Tuesday — a day off is a day off.

Mileage may vary on the Santa hat. I wouldn't necessarily have a problem with someone putting that on my head if I was already at a Christmas party but someone else might, so I'm curious what our Jewish followers will say about this in the notes.

He can maybe bring something traditional like rugelach or babka as his contribution to the party's dessert potluck... or if you want something specifically seasonal, jelly donuts (which are a Chanukah thing for some people.)

--Shira

I'll start with a caveat I've made before: Jewish people are varied. Our practices, views, and choices are manifold.

All of that being said, there's no way I would go to a Christmas party. I know what you mean when you describe the party as not being overly religious but "Christmas because of Christian culture." From where I'm sitting though, you can take the Jesus out of it, but it's still a Christian holiday, Santa, trees with lights, caroling, Christmas music (even the heaps of songs written by Jewish people) are all still Christian culture. Christian being the operative word, and with my operative word being Jewish.

Now, let’s say I went to a secular, winter-party. We'll imagine that there are no decorated trees, no gifts being given, just snowflake decor and mulled wine. If someone at that party (or any other), who knew that I'm Jewish, tried to put a Santa hat on my head, I would be immediately arguing with my fullest, deepest voice. Christmas is pervasive, it's music in the stores, lights on every street, public buildings closed, and everyone wishing you a "Merry Christmas," and then angry when you smile and say "thank you, but I celebrate Chanukah!" Even if you use your cheeriest voice, and your happiest smile. It's great that other people are so excited, and happy at the time, but it can be exhausting to have to be constantly reminded that I am largely forgotten, and when I am remembered, I'm expected to assimilate. Why would I put myself through an extra portion of that?

I don't mind one, or two examples of stories where Jewish people go and participate in Christian holidays, plenty of us do! But it's all the time, in books, tv, movies, comics... I'm exhausted by the premise, and frustrated as the overabundance of that particular story contributes to the broader culture's expectation that I should be willing to be culturally Christian for a night, a week, a month, or more.

-- Dierdra

Like Dierdra, I have largely stopped going to these, but I would reiterate that there are many reasons why people would go. For example, being Orthodox, it’s hard enough not being able to join colleagues for drinks on Friday night or dig in when a manager takes pity on us and orders pizza. I don’t want to be that Jewish girl who never gets involved.

With this in mind, I would avoid using refusal to take part, or even getting annoyed at being forced to take part like with the Santa hat, as the parameters that define your character’s Jewishness. Especially at Christmas, where there’s already the common assumption that only the biggest killjoys refuse to celebrate.

Because of the seasonal aspect, this is one of the few times that I actually would consider Channukah to be one of your best options for introducing Jewish identity. Pre-Covid, I would often bring a dreidel and a box of chocolates to my very non-Jewish office during Channukah, and anyone who wanted could play with me at lunchtime. There’s no reason this couldn’t be taking place at a Christmas party, since it’s a very simple game to learn and most people find it fun the first few times. If you can, try slipping into the dialogue that this isn’t the only holiday the character celebrates though, since we are very tired of seeing that.

If you’re confident in your ability to write microaggressions, you could also create one or two uncomfortable moments for the character, because when people get drunk they often ask really weird questions about your religion and culture. For example, I was once at a work party where someone managed to get out of me (despite my attempts to dodge his invasive questions) that I was Jewish, and he immediately asked me why all the Jews in a particular ultra-Orthodox neighbourhood drove similar cars. The same night, my boss’s boss told me three times that he had loved going to Israel as a kid and thought of it as Christian Disney Land. You don’t have to get into microaggressions if this is just supposed to be a short, festive story, but I think it would feel very real and refreshing for a lot of Jewish people to see those experiences validated.

Other than that, I also like Shira’s suggestion of bringing Jewish food. I’ve turned up to many a ‘winter holiday’ party with latkes, even if I was the only Jewish person there. Covering Christmas day and getting a day back later is also very common, although I agree with Shira this wouldn’t be for observance of Channukah. It would either be a random day in the near future, or saved up for Passover, which is the next holiday requiring time off work.

- Shoshi

#daughterofhecata #asks #jewish #christmas #chanukah #religion #characters

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jinxthejubilee · 3 years

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Little D. Personality Headcanons

Our lovely Little Ds! We need to know more about them, as such, I've taken it upon myself to flesh them out. Since we see a lot of No. 2, I'm gonna skip him for now, and just focus on the other 6. Enjoy!

Little D. No. 1

Despite what one may think, this Little Demon of Pride is NOT the leader of the main 7, but man does he want to be. Not entirely for the idea that he'd make a good leader (even though all of them are pretty much equal, don't tell him that), but just for the sake of having that title.

He pretty much embodies the more mischievous side of Lucifer. For example, the prank war between Lucifer and Satan that is more one-sided, is very mutual and at full force here. Little D's. No. 1 and No. 4 hate each other, they want to ruin each other's days as much as possible. While No. 4 is a lot more destructive physically, No. 1 is destructive verbally. He'll insult and give backhanded compliments to No. 4, and when he gets mad, he tells him to keep it "professional," wouldn't want Mr. Barbatos to find him getting upset over nothing. (Poor No. 2's gotta break up fights on the daily. Demon King help him!).

He's a bit more calm than the others, but only by a small amount. He tries so hard to pretend to not be on the same level of mischievousness as his fellow Little D's in front of Barbatos. Key word being: tries.

How He Speaks: He's like those kids in middle school who use big complicated words to sound smarter, except most of the time, he actually knows what the words mean. But he uses them for no reason. I had this thought that all of the Little D's voices are raspy, and now I can't unsee it.

Little D. No. 3

A very self-conscious, clumsy, worrywart who freaks out over every little thing. Unlike his avatar, No. 3 actually admires his fellow familiars quite a lot, especially No. 2, and expresses his acknowledgment of most of their quirks and traits. However, that doesn't stop the creeping envy he feels towards them. But for the most part, when he feels envious, he says it along the lines of "Wow, I wish I could be more like you," or "why can't I do that?" He just feels bad, someone hug him.

He tries to be careful with everything around him since he's very clumsy, but alas, luck is never on his side. Look Barb, he didn't mean to drop that tray you meticulously arranged, please put your creepy smile away!

That being said though, he's still a bit mischievous. He often helps No. 2 when No. 1 and No. 4 continue their non-stop feud, which sometimes involves pranking them. He can't resist, he loves a good curse or two.

How He Speaks: This poor boy stutters a bit when he's nervous, and I'd say that he'd sound panic-y most of the time, and only a little raspy.

Little D. No. 4

A short-fused kind of guy, and very easily irritated, No. 4 is one of the more grumpy Little D's. Unlike Satan, who hides his wrath under a cool and calm exterior, No. 4 has almost no chill and will attack the other Little D's if provoked. But he'll only attack the Little D's, not anyone else, he has a bit of self control.

He can be fun, especially when a good prank idea comes along. The thought of knocking his highness No. 1 down a peg brings him such immeasurable joy. And he's almost never rude to guests, but you can easily tell when his patience is wearing thin.

How He Speaks: Annoyed and very exasperated tone. Almost flat but still a little cheery and very raspy, he's still a Little D.

Little D. No. 5

The adorably, fabulous No. 5. Very peppy, but not that shallow. Since a Little D's whole shtick is being a servant, he's overly generous to the point of being a little annoying.

He won't make innuendos or jokes of inappropriate nature that often, he has a job to hold down so he can't have too much fun. However, he's pretty ditsy, so the jokes kinda come on their own. But, he's more of a romantic than a tramp. He loves fantasizing about the perfect dates the demon bro you choose could go on with your MC. He's very meticulous as well, wanting everything he cleans, makes, or mends to be perfect. So when it's his turn to prank, watch your back.

How He Speaks: He has a very high-pitched, sing-songy voice. He loves to sing, and has the best voice out of all of them. But he still has that raspiness that all of the Little D's have.

Little D. No. 6

The patient, kind and courteous Little D, No. 6 is the food enthusiasts of the group. He knows what everyone eats, why everyone eats what, and how much everyone needs to eat. He's a bit protective of his fellow familars, MC, and Lord Diavolo when it comes to food, and you can bet that he will volunteer to taste test the food to make sure it's safe.

He loves watching Barbatos cook and bake, it's very relaxing to him even though he starts to drool from the smell. It's more of an art to him, organizing food on the plates.

He's a little bitter at Beel, he ate a Little D after all! That won't be forgiven that easily.

How He Speaks: Again raspy, but still gentle. He has the deepest voice out of them all, but a Little D's voice is pretty high, so that's not saying much.

Little D. No. 7

The snuggler and the watcher, the lovely No. 7. Although he may be a connoisseur of pillows, blankets, and plushies, No. 7 isn't lazy and he hates being called that. Unlike Belphie, he tries to be as productive as possible before he collapses everyday. He enjoys being helpful, and he gives the sweetest, tired smile he can muster when there's been a job well done. Frustratingly though, he can't stop his arms and legs from dragging him down to his bed, favorite corner, or secret sleeping spot.

While he's resting though, he watches. He watches everything that goes on around him. How certain Little D. act, where Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, or guests come and go, arguments, love confessions, everything. So, if you need info, he's your go to guy, even if you have to wake him up first.

How He Speaks: His voice isn't high pitched, so much as it's soft and a bit babyish thanks to him being so tired.

Yay! This was fun! I love these munchkins so much, I had to do them justice. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this too. With that being said, goodnight everyone! Have a great night! Byeee! 💗

#obey me little d personalities #obey me little d #obey me characters #obey me lord diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all

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inkdaydreams · 3 years

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Hey, if you like my fics and want to support me please consider donating here and letting me know which one shot you came from. Writing has been my longest standing passion and I want to still be able to afford to make time for it inbetween further education and having to make a living for myself.

Pairing: Poly!SwanQueen x Fem!Reader

If you like this fic, requests are open rn!!

Annoying

Let me know if you like this because this is my first post on Tumblr. I've written one shots before but I barely post then.

Brief synopsis: Just a directionless drabble I started writing.

Reader can't sleep so they decide to make it EVERYBODY'S problem.

Also imagine the bed is MASSIVE like a king size, big enough to comfortably fit three people.

Warnings: none but they like to playfully insult and mock one another so if that's not your ideal relationship dynamic please scroll.

"We need a catchphrase, like Emma's parents." Y/n spoke.

Regina groaned. It was 1am and the three of them had been trying to sleep despite the summer heat for about an hour now and just as she had felt herself dozing off, one of her lovely yet really annoying girlfriends had ruined her chance.

Emma didn't even make a sound. She figured, if I ignore her, she'll have to sleep, right?.

She was wrong. Y/n took the silence as an invitation to sit up, leaning her back against the velvet headboard and looking from one disgruntled woman to the other.

"You know how they've got that thing where when they see each other again after thinking they've lost each other they say 'I will always find you'. Yeah? We need a catchphrase like that. We've had so many near death experiences and we're bound to have more."

"Oh, we're doing this now?" Regina asked, flipping her body so she was on her stomach, resting her elbows on the mattress and her head in her raised hands so she could look at Y/n directly.

Despite how pretty she looked, and how harmless you'd think she'd be in such a sleepy state, she had daggers in her eyes. Y/n bit her lip to hide a cocky grin. It was mean but she loved irritating her stern short-tempered girlfriend.

Emma barely moved from her position on her back, but lifted a hand to rub Y/n's thigh gently.

"We can talk about that tomorrow, baby, but for now let's just go to bed, okay?" She mumbled, her voice thick with lethargy.

Regina raised her eyebrow and turned to look at Emma. Neither of them were particularly into pet names, it was mostly the overly energetic Y/n who would call them all sorts of names: Honey, Darling, Baby, The Most Beautiful Women In All The Land Whom I Am So Grateful To Call My Girlfriends, Angel, Love, etc. She knew what Emma was doing when she said that, so she decided to join in as well since Y/n usually took her scolding as a challenge and she was reportedly "cute when you're mad out your mind".

"We can't think of a catchphrase, love, it has to come naturally." Regina drawled, even forcing a yawn to elicit one from Y/n.

To her surprise, it worked. Y/n was still stubborn though.

Y/n tried to babble on, powering through her tiredness. "Come on, you think Snow and Charming didn't rehearse that in their heads before one of them said it for the first time. They barely knew each other the first time they said it! Which one of them said it first again, Emma?" She whipped her head around to Emma before she looked back at Regina, "And how would they know to say "always" the very first time they said it. You mean to tell me they nearly lost each other for the first time and their first thought was, 'well, I'm ready for a lifetime of this'? No! They definitely fantasised about saying it to someone and they took the opportunity to use it in real life."

Regina forced a smile, rattling her head with what to say. Y/n's tired thoughts barely even made sense and she had used the word "first" more times in 2 minutes then she had the past year. It was Emma who abruptly sat up in the bed and put her head in her hands, realising playing dead wouldn't work.

Y/n folded her arms and stared at Emma's back nervously. She liked to annoy them, but she didn't like to push them that far to the edge.

"I'm sorry, darling." Y/n said, gently dragging Emma's body closer to hers, hugging her from behind. "I just can't sleep and you know how I get with my late night thoughts."

Regina sat up this time. She was on her knees, sitting on her heels with her hands on her hips, glaring at the two of them in mock anger.

"So when you annoy Emma, she gets cuddles and an apology, but when you annoy me, you just laugh and take it further?"

Emma and Y/n looked at each other before laughing, the sound disturbing the gentle night.

"You're annoyed all the time, Regina." Y/n rolled her eyes, feeling Emma lean back into her body and relax more.

"Yeah, need I remind you how yesterday, when I used up the rest of your cinammon, you manually removed all the gas from my car?" Emma added, making Y/n shake more with laughter.

"Manually? She didn't even use- magic? She must have been- she must have been really mad to do that." Y/n stuttered, wheezing at this point and squeezing Emma tightly.

"It wasn't the fact you used up the rest of the cinammon it was the fact you put the empty jar back on the spice rack! If you use something up then let me know or replace it." Regina exclaimed, "that's a perfectly normal rule that most households follow."

"Yeah yeah yeah now do you wanna get in here or not?" Y/n grinned, holding Emma to her chest with one hand now and reaching towards Regina with the other.

"I don't know if I should. I don't know if you guys appreciate me enough to deserve it." Regina rolled her eyes, but there was a smile fighting to expose itself.

Emma suddenly reached up and yanked her other girlfriend, holding her by the waist and pulling her on top of her body, before settling back down into Y/n's arms. Emma and Regina smiled at each other before closing their eyes, Regina burying her head in that crook between Emma's neck and shoulder. Emma kissed her head before reaching up to kiss Y/n's chin.

Y/n closed her eyes too before snapping them open again.

"I never realised how long this bed was."

"Shut up, y/n." Emma retorted jokingly.

Y/n shuffled nervously, not wanting to disturb the peace her girlfriends had just found again, but realising she couldn't sleep sitting up.

"Guys... I think my neck will cramp up if I sleep like this."

"You deserve it." Regina snapped, but wrapped her arms around Emma's waist, holding them both up as Y/n slid herself down to the bed, her head resting on a proper pillow once again.

Emma put her hands on Regina's elbows and held her, thinking she was going to move them so they fell asleep next to Y/n. Without a moment's hesitation, Regina leaned forward, forcing both hers and Emma's bodies on top of the chatty woman. Emma and Regina chuckled a little at Y/n's small "ow, hey!"

"Your punishment." She said briefly, pecking Y/n's shoulder before returning her head to its rightful position on Emma's shoulder.

"Oh, you think this is a punishment for me? I love this." Y/n wrapped her arms around Emma again. "My beautiful girls. I love you, you know?"

"I love you too, but it's 1 o clock in the morning." Emma said, too tired to really add more.

"I'll love you more if you let me sleep." Regina bribed, and after that Y/n finally gave them peace.

For the night.

#swan queen #ouat fanfiction #ouat x reader #swan queen x reader #regina mills #emma swan #regina mills x reader #emma swan x reader #swanqueen fluff #ouat fluff

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call-me-doll-face · 3 years

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Acquiesce- part 2

Warnings: once again guys, this does have noncon elements. If you are triggered easily please don't read. In no way do I approve of behavior like this, no means no. Consent is key. This is strictly just for the story. No minors! Smut, angst, friends to lovers, protective steve.

A/N- this is for my friend @rogershoe thank you for reading my stories and always giving me words of praise, and for always listening. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!

P.s I'm sorry for any mistakes! I haven't gone through and proof read!

Part one

Steve slept over that night, refusing to leave my side. I honestly don’t know whether I'm supposed to feel thankful or annoyed and hell who knows, maybe it’s both.

Yes, him being here eases my mind. Knowing that he’s there to protect me if, heaven forbid, something happens. At the same time though..... maybe I would rather be alone.

Ever the gentleman, he willingly takes the not so comfortable couch in my opinion with zero complaint. We work together in silence to put the fitted sheet on before standing side by side, just staring at it.

“Ya know, I’d almost prefer sleeping on the floor.” He cracks a joke, looking over at me with that cute lopsided grin of his. Scoffing in fake offense I smack his chest playfully causing him to cover his chest with a very over exaggerated wounded expression.

“Hey! Don’t hate on my couch! You could always go sleep in your OWN room!” Before I could even finish my sentence he had flopped down onto his back, big arms folded up behind his head and a satisfied smile gracing his lips. It was hysterical, seeing him trying to fit his big body on my tiny couch, long legs hanging over the armrest. I snicker at him softly, running a finger up the arch in his foot as I go to walk away, knowing damn well how ticklish the man is.

I try to make a quick getaway; wanting to avoid the awkwardness I could feel slowly creeping back in between us. However when I hear “Calla,wait.” I groan internally before slowly turning around to find that he’s already standing right there before me. Curse him and how damn sneaky he is! A man of his size shouldn't also be stealthy!

“Stevie I-” I’m pulled into his embrace, fingers moving up to tangle in my long hair to scratch comfortingly against my scalp. All the tension leaves my body at the action, sagging against him and almost purring like a cat, eyes drifting closed.

“Calla... My lilly...”He murmurs softly against my hairline as he pulls me even closer to him, if that’s even possible. My heartrate spikes at his words as my belly erupts with butterflies. We had always been close but never has he been this tender with me.

His lips press one last kiss to my forehead before bidding me goodnight and gently urging me in the direction of my room where I had been so ready to escape to moments ago but now have to force my body towards.

“Goodnight Stevie.” I whisper softly on my way, Knowing he’d hear me.

I don’t know what wakes me. My eyes slowly flutter open and my lips part with a deep yawn. It’s not until I’m stretching that my body freezes as I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

‘You’re being watched’ my mind tells me as my muscles lock up with panic, eyes staying on the wall directly in front of me, terrified to move let alone look around.

In the back of my mind I already know who’s in the room with me. It’s him. He’s come for me, to finish the job. Bucky....

Then just like that, as if materializing from thin air, he’s there. His hand wraps around my ankle like a vice, jerking me down the bed towards him, sheets getting bunched up around me as he does.

No, no not again! please no!

Crying desperately I kick out at him and miraculously the heel of my foot comes into contact with the middle of his chest, causing his grip to loosen just enough to slip away. Rollin on to my hands and knees I start to crawl away from him quickly in an attempt to put distance between us, but with a deep growl he’s suddenly on top of me, using his big body to pin me to the bed.

“No, Bucky! this isn't’ you!” He lets out a sadistic chuckle at my words before he reaches down and rips my panties roughly from my body. I cry out as my skin burns from the fabric, leaving red welts in the wake.

“Please don’t do this, don’t do this! I’ll do anything!” I sob but then he’s thrusting into me once against without a care as his chest rumbles against my back.

“You will submit.” He snarls in my ear as his hips snap violently against my ass.

You will submit.

YOU WILL SUBMIT.

“Calla...Calla!” I fight against the vice like grip holding me in place, writhing and thrashing against him. A scream is ripped from my raw throat as I get a hand free, digging my nails into my assailants skin. “Damit, Calla! Calla it’s me! Stop!” With one more hard shake I’m pulled back to reality and I whimper shaking my head.

“Open your eyes Calla.” When I refuse to do so I hear his soft sigh then his big gentle hands move up to cup my cheeks, thumbs moving over them soothingly. “It’s okay my lilly... I’m here... It’s just me, I’ve got ya. Now open those big beautiful eyes and let me look at ya.” Under his gentle coaxing I reluctantly let my eyelashes flutter open to meet his very concerned blue ones, watching as he lets out a relieved sigh.

My legs are tangled in the damp sheets, body slick with sweat, and chest heaving as I desperately try to get some much needed oxygen into my lungs. “He... He was here...” My voice shakes out the words and I launch myself at steve, sobbing into his naked shoulder and clinging to him desperately.

He just lets me cry, holding my body against his as he whispers soft words against the side of my head. Eventually when the sobs die down enough he gently moves me back to the head of the bed. Pulling back the blankets he slides in beside me without my even having to ask before tucking me under his arm.

We lay there silently for a while, my cheek pressed against his warm chest as my arm snakes around his waist to keep him with me. I let his even breathing calm me, nuzzling closer to him as the panic finally dissipates.

“You know.... I used to have nightmares too. The last thing I can remember is my plane breaking through the ice. The cold of it. I knew it was the right thing to do, and never for a second have a regretted it. But god did it scare me.” I glance up at his words, seeing him staring at the ceiling with wrinkled brows with his arm that wasn't holding me folded behind his head. “Then I woke up and there you were, lookin like and angel. I done thought I’d died and gone to heaven doll!” We both laugh softly at his words, my chest blossoming with warmth. I squeeze him gently and he squeezes me back in turn.

“If I hadn’t had you there when I woke up, To teach me all the things I’d missed out on and needed to learn... to help me get through the realization that everyone I’d known from my past life were gone.... doll I never would have made it.” This time when I looked up my breath caught in my throat at the look on his face as he looked down at me... Cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips slightly swollen due to being bitten so much, eyes shining with something akin to what I can only describe as love.... Adoration..

Slowly he gently reaches down with the arm that isn't holding me and gently pinches my chin between his forefinger and thumb before stroking it softly. His tongue flicks out over his lip and my eyes follow the movement....

I squeal in surprise when in one sweeping movement he has me straddling his lap with his hands once again cupping my cheeks. I’m very quickly becoming convinced it’s his favorite place to have them, but in this moment I’m thankful for it, nuzzling my face against them as our eyes meet once again.

“I promise you Calla, my lilly, that I’ll NEVER let anyone hurt you ever again. Ever. I’ll kill them first. You are the most important thing in my life. I’ll do anything for you, to make you feel better, to help you through this.”

My heart swells at his words, tears forming in my eyes as I give him a watery smile. Slowly reaching up to mimic him I cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes slowly flicker closed and his lips part to let out a soft breath at the touch. “Anything?” I question quietly.

“Anything.” Before the word has even left his mouth all the way I lean forward and press my lips softly against his.

People say that when you have your first kiss with something it feels like fireworks, like your life is exploding. Not with steve... No, kissing stevie feels like home. Like a cup of hot cocoa in front of a warm fire on a cold december night. Like fuzzy socks and warm blankets... like coming home after a bad day knowing that your person will be there to make everything feel right again.

And god does he make everything feel right again as he kisses me back with everything he has. Moving my hands up to tangle my fingers into his silky soft hair I let him tilt my head back so that he can press his lips firmer against mine to gain better access. A breathy whine escapes me and my lips party willingly without him even having to ask. He instantly takes advantage as his tongue slips in to massage against mine before exploring my mouth.

My whole body burns under his gentle ministrations. I burn for him, and I’d willingly burn for him over and over and over again...

Keeping my head leaned back I bite my lip as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses down the line of my jaw... slowly moving back to that spot behind my hear that he just seems to know will drive me wild.... groaning my name he nuzzles his nose there affectionately as his warm breath fans against my overly sensitive skin.

Wrapping those big arms around my waist he pulls my body even tighter against his before pulling back to press his forehead against mine, giving me a gentle smile. I can’t help but smile back before leaning back in and teasingly taking his bottom lip between my teeth and pulling slightly.

With a grunt his hips thrust up against me, pulling a surprised gasp from me as I feel how painfully hard he is beneth me. My pussy clenches as the feeling as my body automatically grinds down to meet his thrusts. Instantly those hands grip my waist tightly, stilling my movements.

"Calla... we can't." He grunts out, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion as I look down as him. I know he wants this...

"Stevie... please.. I want you... I've never been so sure of anything in my life.." shaking his head at my words his kisses my shoulder softly as he hugs me.

"No doll... I don't want you to want me just because you want to feel something... just because you want to forget. I want you to want me because you can't live without me... I want you to want me because I make it easier to breath... because that's how I feel about you."

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #avengers smut #marvel smut #slight angst #nonconsent #marvel #mcu #the avengers #romance #these idiots #friends to lovers

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sunfleurry · 3 years

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II. 360˚

Click here for part 1

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

Eden was unable to contain her laughter as she watched Yaz try to lift the barbell. The personal trainer wanted to test out a new pre-workout supplement that promised the ability to easily lift more than her personal record. Eden cackled as Yaz’s overly determined face started turning red, her arms straining against the bar that was not moving despite the girl putting her all into deadlifting it.

“Oi! Stop that before you pull something!” Eden heard before she saw Luca marching over, a look of amusement on his face.

Yaz immediately stopped, chest heaving as she stood straight and turned towards him. “I was just testing something out,” she sassed. “For science.”

The corner of Luca’s mouth twitched into a small smile as he shook his head in amusement. “Was it the shit Harry gave you?”

As if the mention of his name summoned him, Harry was already making his way towards them, close enough to hear Luca’s response. “I paid seventy for that stuff.”

Eden scoffed. “You got ripped off.”

Harry looked and narrowed his eyes playfully. She bit her lip as her smile grew, always feeling annoyingly giddy whenever he looked at her. Eden had been working out with Yaz for a week at the new gym. She didn’t think she would ever admit that she loved weightlifting yet, she loved the feeling of empowerment it gave her and she could already spot newbie gains along her figure. Yaz reassured her that over time and with an increase in the weight she was lifting, she would start noticing even more progress.

“She’s right,” panted Yaz, still catching her breath.

“Come on,” Luca chuckled, putting an arm around her. “Let’s get you some water.”

Eden watched as her trainer and the receptionist walked away, leaving her and Harry alone.

She not only became friends with Yaz, but she got to know Luca and Harry even more after discovering they were best friends. Before her sessions with Yaz, she would stay at the front and talk to Luca, and sometimes Harry would join them on his breaks. They were childhood friends who grew even closer when Luca’s parents decided to go back to their home country, leaving the then eighteen year old to look for a new roommate who subsequently became Harry.

Movement caught her eye and she looked over to find Harry crouched and unloading the bar Yaz had been using. Not wanting to feel useless, she bent over and started pulling the plates off from the other end, the two of them working in silence.

Harry finished his side and watched as she struggled to remove the last one—the heaviest one. He waited for her to ask for help, but she never did. He looked on in amusement as she struggled to remove it, arms tugging at the plate that would not budge. Finally, he said, “Need help?”

Eden sighed, arms sagging in defeat. “Yeah,” she grumbled.

Harry chuckled and she took a step back as he took her place and easily slid the plate off the bar. Eden would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t linger on the way his biceps strained against the t-shirt as he heaved the weight and racked it without breaking a sweat.

“You’ve been training with Yaz for a week,” he smiled. “Don’t beat yourself up too much. You’ll be able to do that within a month, trust me,” he winked.

Eden raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act like you didn’t need the help of that seventy dollar supplement to lift it.”

Harry’s jaw comically dropped. “Take that back.”

Crossing her arms, Eden smirked, refusing to entertain his request.

He took a step forward, close enough that she had to crane her neck to keep eye contact. “Take that back,” he repeated.

Eden forced her face to stay neutral, not wanting to give away the effect his proximity had on her body.

“Did I bruise your gym bro ego?”

Harry’s head fell back, exposing his throat as he laughed, amusement written all over his face when he looked at her again. “So thats how it is, huh.”

She grinned and took a step away from him. “Not sure what you mean.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get changed,” she said. “I’m going home.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he followed her. “I’m clocking out, let me walk you.”

Eden reigned in her smile. “Meet me outside in five?”

Harry offered her that smirk that had her swooning anytime it was directed at her. “Deal.”

...

Eden hugged Yaz goodbye with a promise to see her the next day and high fived Luca on her way out of the gym. She really loved her new friends. They had a lot in common and talking to Yaz felt like talking to a friend she’d known her entire life.

They’d even planned to go on a shopping trip the next week. Eden let her love for fashion slip and Yaz didn’t hesitate to ask for help in choosing a dress for her cousin’s wedding. Of course, Eden happily agreed. She looked forward to growing her friendship with her personal trainer.

Upon exiting the gym, she was hit with an unexpected chill and zipped up her coat to protect herself from the winter cold. She spotted Harry waiting to the side and smiled when he waved her over as she slipped on her mittens. Shouldering her bag, they started walking down the road towards her neighbourhood.

“Let me hold your bag.”

“No.”

“Eden…”

“Harry…”

“I can’t let you walk around with that mammoth.”

“I’m more than capable of—”

“I know you are,” he stressed. “But let me be a gentleman.”

Eden’s eyes narrowed at him but they softened upon seeing the look on his face.

“Please?”

She sighed and handed him her bag, doing her best to hide how her body relaxed from being relieved of the weight. If Harry’s smirk was anything to go by as he looped the strap up his arm, she knew he caught it.

“You didn’t drive?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I also live in student housing.”

She peered at him in shock. “You go to uni?”

“Why is that so surprising?” He smiled.

“It’s not,” she said quickly. “I just thought you worked at the gym full time.”

He shook his head, waving in thanks to a driver who let them cross the street. “That’s just to pay for tuition, I’m in my fourth year of computer science.”

“Wow.”

He chuckled. “Surprised I’m smart?”

Her eyes widened, redness blooming along her cheeks. “No, I...”

“I’m joking, Eden,” he laughed.

Her heart leaped in her chest when he rested a hand on her lower back, gesturing for her to walk in front of him as they passed a couple walking their dog.

Clearing her throat, she paused to let him catch up to her before she started walking again. “So, why personal training?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds and when she looked at him, he had a contemplative look on his face.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to...”

Harry nudged her shoulder with his, throwing her a smile. “I’m just trying to figure out how to say this but, well, I was pretty insecure about the way I looked when my flatmate stole my girlfriend and—”

She gasped, “Luca?!”

“No!” Harry laughed. “There was three of us at the time, but then the asshole moved out.”

“Oh…” Her shock deflated. “Well, that would have been awkward.”

He threw her a pained look, nodding his head slowly.

“What happened?”

“That’s it really. She said he’s better looking, ghosted me, never talked to me again.”

“What a bitch!”

“He said they’d been hooking up throughout our relationship.”

“What a dick!”

Harry barked out a laugh, amused at her obvious dislike to the faceless strangers she just found out about. “Like many eighteen year olds, I got insecure. Started asking myself what he had that I didn’t. So, I started working out and…”

“Revenge body,” Eden nodded.

He chuckled. “Sure, you can say that. And like all cliches, she saw me a couple years later with my…” He lifted his arms up to flex his biceps, and although they were covered by his thick coat sleeves, Eden had an idea of what they looked like at that moment.

She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved his shoulders. They both laughed at his ridiculousness. “Please. Don’t tell me you took her back.”

He scoffed. “You think so low of me? I politely told her to go fuck herself.”

It was Eden’s turn to chuckle. “Poor girl. Actually, no, she deserved it. She never deserved you.” They stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green.

When Harry didn’t say anything, Eden looked at him and was taken aback by his eyes already on her, studying her face. She lifted a mitten-covered hand to the corner of her mouth, suddenly insecure. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

He cracked a smile. “No,” he said. “I’m just happy I met you.”

She bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away. “I'm happy I met you too.” She couldn’t breathe as his smile widened at her words, then the traffic light beeped, indicating it was their turn to cross the street.

After a minute, she said, “So you decided to get certified and help others with their revenge bodies?”

“I just fell in love with training and I thought, why not make money while doing something I love?”

“And here I was thinking you were trying to be Khloe Kardashian.”

Harry shook his head in amusement. “Still working on my arse,” he said, making her laugh.

They walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way until Eden stopped in front of an old student house with a beat up Honda in the drive way. “This is me,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Thank you for tagging along. This was… nice.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, nice.”

“Okay well, I’m just going to…” She pointed to the front door behind her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, holding her bag out for her to take.

“Ye—”

She stepped forward to grab her things and slipped on the icy concrete, bracing herself with a yelp for impact with the ground. With eyes shut, she felt warmth envelop her as strong arms wrapped around her form, saving her from the embarrassing fall.

Wide eyes met wide eyes as they looked at each other, and she chuckled, breathless. “I didn’t see that.”

Harry breathed a laugh, but didn’t let her go. Her heart raced when she saw the look in his eyes, and it was then that she took in the proximity of their faces. Even under all the layers, she could have sworn she felt the heat of his body against hers. When his head moved, just a fraction, it was enough for her to notice.

She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel his mouth on hers. She waited, and when he was close enough to feel his breath on her lips, alarm bells went off in her head and her mind suddenly went into overdrive. Her eyes shot open, and she put a hand on his chest as a silent request for him to stop. What was she thinking?

Harry cleared his throat and slowly let her go, backing away and giving her the space he knew she was asking for.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, eyes intently trying to make out what she was feeling by the look on her face.

She panicked. “No, Harry, I…” Eden didn’t know what to say or how to fix whatever had happened. She didn’t want to upset him and—

Harry braced his hands on her shoulders, stopping her imminent panic. “Hey,” he smiled. “It’s okay. Nothing to feel bad about.”

She exhaled loudly, forcing herself to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. She grabbed her bag from the ground and took a step away from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked quickly, repeating his earlier question.

“Bye, Eden” he smiled again, but it didn’t meet his eyes.

She felt her shoulders deflate as he tapped her arm once and started walking away. That night, she didn’t get the best sleep.

***

Hello! Let me know what you think <3

Part 3

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starlit-serenade · 3 years

Text

E'LAST Reacting to Someone Hitting on Their S/O (Maknae Line)

Summary: How would E’LAST's Maknae Line react to someone hitting on you when you are out in public together? 《 Hyung Line 》

Word Count: 1,581 words

Pairing: Reader x Members / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Choi Youngmin (Romin); Won Hyuk; Lee Wonjun (Wonjun); Oh Yejun (Yejun);

Rated: E / Warnings: Jealousy / Genre: GenderNeutral!Reader; Fluff;

《 E'LAST Masterlist 》

Choi Youngmin (Romin)

Romin would likely act all cool and collected and calm, and would be very polite and calm while trying to avoid straightforward confrontation. However you, knowing him so well, would probably be able to tell right away that he's feeling tense from the situation.

You're pouring over a book as you lean over the library, flipping through pages and pages about a specific historical event you were curious about. Your boyfriend, Youngmin, stands just down the aisle, looking for a book that might pique his interest. Someone accidentally bumps into you from behind, and you stumble over a bit, dropping your book with a yell.

"Oh, sorry, beautiful," they say, helping steady you. They take the book from the ground, take your hand in theirs, and place the book in your hand.

"Oh, uh, no worries," you say. They look at your book, their hand still on yours.

"Oh, you're interested in this stuff?" the ask. "I know a bit about this myself. Perhaps we could talk about it over a coffee or breakfast together sometime."

You blink, and withdraw your hand and the book from their grasp, muttering politely, "Sorry, I'm actually very busy nowadays," just as you hear footsteps behind you. You blink and look over as Youngmin comes to stand right next to you.

"Oh no worries! I'm sure we can find time to meet for coffee," the person says, glancing curiously at Youngmin, who is a bit taller than them.

"Hi," Youngmin says politely. You can see him clenching his jaw, though he's smiling politely, as he puts his arm around you. "What are you two talking about?"

"Oh, just my book."

"Cool. Hi I'm Youngmin, Y/N's boyfriend," Youngmin says, holding his hand out to shake. The person blinks, realizing that you have a boyfriend, and they're visibly shaken as they shake Youngmin's hand.

"Oh, boyfriend, hello," they say, trying to find words. "I didn't mean to impose or anything."

"Oh, no worries," Youngmin says, his arm pulling you closer posessively. "You were saying something about talking about the book over coffee? Perhaps Y/N and I could find time."

They smile a forced smile. "Perhaps not. I don't know . . . I actually have somewhere to be right now. Have a good day."

They bow their head and leave. Romin chuckles next to you, nuzzling your forehead with his nose.

"I love you, baby."

You hum contently. "Love you too, Minnie."

Won Hyuk

Won Hyuk would be playfully passive aggressive if he witnessed someone hitting on you. He'd use friendly words and act overly friendly, but he'd be obviously pissed and everyone would be able to sense it in the rest of his body language.

"Oh really? That's so cool!"

Won Hyuk looks up from the book in his hand at the sound of your voice, accompanied by your laughter. He sees you talking and laughing with someone else. Another customer at the bookstore, and you're just chatting together. Won Hyuk can't help but feel a weird bit of jealousy shoot through his chest, watching you laugh and giggle with some stranger.

"Maybe we can talk about that over coffee sometime."

"Yeah, maybe," you say to them.

He walks over and you smile at him. "Hi Won Hyuk! We were just talking about this book that we've both read," you day.

"Oh? Really?" Won Hyuk forces a smile, taking your hand in his and squeezing possessively. "What book?"

You look at Won Hyuk, squinting a bit. You can tell something's wrong, from the way he grabs your hand, the way his jaw is clenched to force a fake smile.

"Oh, uh, just some book," you say. "Hey, Won Hyuk, I think I saw something over there. Bye," you say, nodding to the other person.

"Oh?" Won Hyuk lets you drag him away from the other person.

"Hey, Hyuk, are you doing okay?" you ask, once you're sure you're out of earshot.

"Yeah. Yeah, why?"

You tilt your head at him, taking his hand in yours. "You were acting funny just now. What's wrong? Tell me."

He sighs. "I didn't like the way they were flirting with you."

"Huh? Flirting?"

He rolls his eyes. "They asked you for coffee!"

"You're right, Hyuk. I'm sorry. I love you, okay?" You squeeze his hand, and he visibly relaxes.

"I love you too."

Lee Wonjun (Wonjun)

Wonjun, upon witnessing someone hitting on you, would be very straightforward and upfront about how you actually have a boyfriend and that boyfriend is not okay with someone hitting on you. He'd try to be intimidating. Please hold his hand after.

Wonjun notices your absence after a few minutes. You had joined him in grocery shopping, but vanished halfway through. Perhaps you went to go get some strawberries for later. You had mentioned wanting to get some earlier, as you had had something in mind for dinner.

He sends you a quick text, and you respond within the next ten seconds.

Wonjun: y/n where are u?

Y/N: im in the fruit aisle. theres this person trying to hit on me over here 🙄 wont take a hint when i say i have a boyfriend

Wonjun looks up and around. Someone is flirting with you? His S/O? That's unacceptable. He scrunches up his nose, grabs the basket of groceries he has, and heads down to the fruit aisle.

When he reaches there, he sees you talking to someone. You look visibly uncomfortable, the way you're standing and looking around and away. He walks over, overhearing bits of the conversation as he approaches.

"I insist," the person says to you. "Just a quick coffee to get to know each other. I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind an innocent cup of coffee?"

Wonjun walks over and grabs your hand quickly. You almost yelp at the feeling, but relax when you realize it's just Wonjun.

"Oh, Wonjun," you say, smiling widely. You're obviously happy that he's here.

"Hi," Wonjun says to you, before turning to the person flirting with you. "Hi, I'm Y/N's boyfriend. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop flirting with them, if that's alright."

The person blinks and starts stuttering. "Oh no. I wasn't flirting. I was just offering that we could have coffee?"

"Oh? What did Y/N say?" Wonjun asks, looking at you.

"They said no, and that they have a boyfriend, but--"

"Well if they said no, then no," Wonjun asks, glaring at the person. You can see Wonjun's eyes are burning with annoyance, and gently squeeze his hand to keep him calm.

"Sorry. You're right, sorry. I'll go." The person bows in apology and leaves as quickly as they can. You can dee Wonjun is still fuming, his shoulders all tense and bunched up, so you squeeze his hand.

"Wonjun," you whisper. He looks up at you. "Thank you, Wonjun. Let's get back to shopping, okay?"

He smiles. "Okay."

Oh Yejun (Yejun)

Yejun would be a bit more flustered. He would likely walk over to politely let the person know that you're taken, but he wouldn't have so much of a plan going in, so he'd obviously seem nervous or anxious. At least to you.

"Yejun, how does this look . . . ?"

Your voice trails off when you realize Yejum, your boyfriend, isn't around to see the shirt you just took off of the hanger. You and him had gone clothes shopping together, but it seems that he has vanished. Probably to look for his own clothes, anyways.

"Oh." You deflate a bit, lowering the shirt you were holding against your chest before turning back to the clothing rack.

"I think it looked lovely on you," you hear an unfamiliar voice. You turn around, shirt still in hand, and see someone behind you, with a smile so wide it makes you uncomfortable.

"Oh, uh, thank you," you say, nodding politely. You glance around, once again looking for your boyfriend.

"Dressing up for a special occasion? It's a nice shirt."

"Oh, yeah. Concert," you say, not wanting to explain to this stranger that your boyfriend is an idol and you're attending an award show with him.

"Cool. When is it?"

You frown, slightly bothered by the questions. "In a couple weeks."

"Oh, are you busy after shopping?" the person asks, and you realize by their uncomfortable stare that they're trying to hit on you.

"Oh, sorry, no. I mean yes, I'm busy. But I have a boyfriend," you say.

You notice their smiley expression slip into a frown, a look of disappointment, and you press your lips together. Just then, you hear someone calling your name. You turn and see Yejun, your boyfriend, walking over with a pair of pants in hand. His eyes fall on you and the person who was just attempting to hit on you.

"Yejunie," you say, waving him over. You grab his hand the moment he gets close enough, before turning back to the person. "This is my boyfriend."

The person looks between you, Yejun, and your hands together. Yejun seems to understand what's going on at the same time.

"Oh, Yejunie, I was just showing them this shirt. What do you think? For the show?" you ask, holding the shirt up to your chest again.

As Yejun starts complimenting you on the shirt, you notice the person not awkwardly and leave, undoubtedly aware that with the presence of your boyfriend, they've become invisible. You smile to yourself. That went pretty well.

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mamabearcat · 4 years

Text

Hungry Ghosts

I didn’t get a chance to write anything for Halloween this year like I planned. But here’s a spooky excerpt from The Importance of Ramen, parts of chapters 7 and 8. If you haven’t read it, I think there’s enough context there for you to work out what’s going on. Hope everyone’s Halloween is going as well as it can this year!

Inuyasha went back inside the hut. The others were still asleep, but he cleaned out the firepit, replacing the slightly damp logs from last night with fresh kindling. He had the fire going and Kagome's kettle filled with water for tea by the time she returned. One look at her face had him realising that something was wrong.

She was leaning against the doorframe, sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip. "Sorry… I'm… okay. I'm okay. Squatting down just hurt my leg a little more than I thought it would."

Without a word, he walked over to her and picked her up, carrying her back to the small nest made by her empty sleeping bag. After seating her carefully on the softly padded surface, he placed his hand on her forehead again.

Kagome tried to weakly bat his hand away. "Stop fussing Inuyasha. I told you I'm fine. It's the first time I've walked on this leg since yesterday; it was bound to hurt a bit." She plastered a smile on her face. "Look, I'll even drink more of that disgusting tea if it will stop you making a big deal out of nothing."

Inuyasha, ignored her hand, taking in her sweaty face and pale complexion. "You're not fine, wench. You had a slight fever when you woke up this morning, and it's already a little worse. Let me look at those wounds of yours to make sure they're not infected."

The commotion had woken Miroku and Sango. Miroku brought the first aid kit over, while Sango mixed more of the herbal tea that Kagome had drunk last night. Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed but decided it would be less trouble to let everyone fuss.

Inuyasha carefully unwrapped the bandages on Kagome's upper left arm, being cautious of the still healing bruise below her elbow. He gently slid his clawed forefinger underneath the tape and gauze on one side of the wound and then the other, cutting through so he could lift the gauze off her wound. The skin around the deep cut was pink, but he could see that the wound was healing nicely, beginning to knit the muscle back together. He gave it a good sniff, just to make sure.

"This one's okay", he said. He moved aside so Sango could rub some of the healing cream from Kagome's first aid kit around the wound and redress it.

He moved towards Kagome's thigh on the other side and was surprised when she placed a defensive hand in front of it. "Kagome, I need to check."

"Sorry", she flushed, moving her hand out of the way. "I'm being a big wuss. This one just hurts a little more".

He placed his hand on the bandage and immediately knew the news wasn't good. "Kagome, this one's infected", he sighed. "I can feel the heat coming through the bandage without even looking at it."

"Dammit", muttered Kagome. "I was sure the saline would combat that."

Inuyasha removed the bandage even more gently than he had the previous one. Kagome kept herself as still as possible, making no sound, but her lowered brows and tight expression told the story of how much pain she was actually in. She whimpered a little as Inuyasha lifted the gauze away from the wound and drew in a deep breath.

"Fuck Kagome, no wonder it was hurting". The skin around the deeper puncture wound was bright red and shiny, the swelling spreading outwards around her thigh, pulling against the edges of the weeping gash. Red lines at the edge of the swelling streaked upwards on her leg. Inuyasha barely had to sniff to scent the smell of infection in her leg.

Sango peered over Inuyasha's shoulder at Kagome's thigh, and her face grew grim. "Take her back through the well, Inuyasha. She needs to get to a healer in her time as soon as possible." She gestured towards the red streaks travelling up Kagome's thigh. "These marks are a sign of a deep infection. I've seen them on other Taijiya who have been injured. Some of them recovered, but most …" She took a deep breath. "The infection grew rapidly worse no matter what our healers did. All they could do was ease their pain. Once they became confused and lost consciousness, we knew that they would never recover."

Kagome looked at them both, wide-eyed. "Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic, Sango?", she chuckled weakly. "I mean, I just got back, and we need to get back on the jewel shard hunt. I'm sure if I just rest for today, then tomorrow, I'll be fine." She took in Inuyasha and Sango's serious expressions and looked towards Miroku. "Miroku, tell them that I just need some rest, and then we can all get going again."

Miroku squatted down next to Kagome, holding the mug of herbal tea that Sango had prepared a few minutes ago. "Now, Kagome", he said, his usual calm smile a contrast to the anxious grimace on Kagome's face, "what sort of elder brother would I be if I counselled against a course of action that would have you healing faster?"

He pushed the tea into her unwilling hands, smiling encouragingly as she forced herself to sip the bitter liquid. "If it's just simple rest that you need, surely a rest in your own time in a comfortable bed under your mother's loving care will speed your recovery. And, if as Sango suggests, a trip to a healer is required, that should not trouble you if you know it will bring your family here peace of mind. I'm sure if Inuyasha puts his mind to it, he could have you home before dark."

He looked questioningly at Inuyasha, who nodded brusquely. Miroku leaned closer to Sango, who was still leaning over Inuyasha's shoulder. "Do not trouble yourself about the rest of us while you're gone, we will muddle along together just fine." A sudden resounding slap, as Sango backhanded Miroku across the cheek, startled Kagome then had her giggling. Obviously, his wandering hand had been unable to resist the temptation of Sango's pert derriere as she leant forward.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes at the pair's familiar antics, but didn't move from his spot beside Kagome, as Sango knelt to begin the process of rewrapping the wound in Kagome's thigh. He removed the tea from Kagome's tense hands and placed the mug on the floor, so it would not be spilt, and held her hands in his own instead. His ears drooped and laid flat on his head at the quiet whimpers escaping through Kagome's clenched teeth as Sango cleaned and packed the wound with fresh gauze.

"Looks like we're goin' on another run, wench", he said quietly. He cleared his throat, trying to force a cheery note into his voice. "Maybe if I get ya home early enough, your mother will have time to make that crunchy chicken stuff. The one Souta likes so much. What's it called again?"

"Karaage" muttered Kagome through compressed lips. She really wanted to smile at Inuyasha's attempts to take her mind off what Sango was doing, but her leg hurt so badly, even worse than when the beetle had first gouged the hole in her leg. She tried her best, gasping a little. "It's a shame she doesn't know we're coming; she might have bought steak for you."

He grinned. "Now that would be worth runnin' back for." He tried not to wince as Kagome dug her blunt fingernails into his palms as Sango tightened the bandage on her thigh.

"All done", said Sango, using some of the special cleaning gel on her hands after she had rinsed them in the water pail as Kagome had taught her. She repacked the medical kit, as Miroku and the now awake Shippou bustled about making breakfast, cooking rice and making tea.

"Drink your tea Kagome", encouraged Inuyasha, letting go of her hands to pick up the mug.

She flapped her hand at him. "Gimme a minute", she panted. "I feel like I'm gonna… gonna…" Her eyes suddenly widened as her palm slapped over her mouth. Inuyasha had the good sense to let go of the mug and grab the almost empty water pail next to Kagome, tipping the water out and thrusting it in front of her face just in time. Sango padded back over to scoop Kagome's long hair out of the way into a tail over her shoulder, rubbing her back comfortingly as Kagome hurled what was left of last night's dinner into the pail in front of her.

"Hnn, that was so gross", moaned Kagome. "I'm so sorry." She spat one last time into the bucket, then wiped her mouth with a damp cloth offered by Sango. Embarrassment flooded her face, and she hung her head. Inuyasha dipped his head down sideways until it was almost perpendicular with the floor, so he could look see her expression.

"What's with that face, wench?" he questioned, looking at her narrowed eyes and downturned mouth.

Kagome looked up, her eyes blazing in her sweaty pale face. "Do you really have to ask?", she fired back. "I got targeted by a demon again, got myself injured, and now you're gonna have to babysit me and take me home. And to top it all off, I just ruined everyone's breakfast by chucking up in front of them while they were eating."

Inuyasha grunted. "First of all, the beetle was after the shard, not you, and the way it grabbed you took everyone by surprise, me included. Second, yes, I am takin' you home, but you ain't no baby and if you sit me on the way there, I will not be happy. And" he said, glancing over his shoulder and taking in Miroku calmly sipping tea while Sango served herself rice and Shippou and Kirara continued chewing, "breakfast don't look ruined to me."

Shippou's wide eyes took everything in as he continued munching on his rice ball. "Ish Kagmee gna ee mmk?", he asked Miroku, barely coherent behind the large mouthful of rice he was still chewing.

"She will be fine. Inuyasha will make sure of it by taking her back through the well and letting healers in her time assess her injury", replied Miroku comfortingly, patting the kit on the head as he continued to drink his tea.

Inuyasha sat down with them and began shovelling rice into his mouth, sculling hot tea as quickly as he could. Sango's assessment of Kagome's wound had him worried. Put an enemy in front of him that was threatening Kagome, and he would give his all to take it down, no sweat, but infection was a battle he couldn't fight for her. His mind went back to an image of long ago, his own hand tiny in the sweaty clasp of his mother's, her eyes closed as she struggled for every breath while the infection in her lungs fought to defeat her. Darkness and cold. She was so cold. He pushed the thought away.

"Miroku, Sango, you may as well go back to Kaede's while we're gone. That way I can come back through the well and let you know she's okay." Miroku and Sango nodded. "I'm gonna go over the mountain instead of around, that should take about two hours off my time."

"Over Mount Mitsumine?", asked Miroku. Inuyasha nodded, tapping his foot impatiently as Sango tied some extra rice balls and a flask of water into a cloth for him to carry in case Kagome grew hungry or thirsty later.

Miroku was puzzled – his mind was tickling him, trying to feed him information pertinent to the shrine on Mount Mitsumine, but he couldn't quite remember. He made an angry tsking noise; it was just out of reach, and he was sure it was something of importance.

Inuyasha squatted down in front of Kagome with his back facing her. She had done her best with the tea, taking a few more sips, but looked sweaty and tired, and Inuyasha felt his concern for her rising. He pushed it down again.

"Okay Kagome, the faster we leave, the faster you can be home sleepin' in that girly pink bed a yours" he teased, as she slowly eased herself forward, draping her arms over his shoulders. Instead of holding onto her thighs as he usually did, he created a seat under her bottom for her by interlocking his fingers behind his back. He straightened himself up slowly, bouncing her slightly, getting her into position. Kagome buried her face in his hair, whimpering in pain at the pressure his forearm put on her swollen thigh. "Shit, this ain't gonna work". He was going to have to carry her in front of him again, but it was hard on his arms, and would slow them down as they went over the mountain.

Shippou's worried face brightened, and he whispered in Sango's ear. "Wait, Inuyasha, Shippou's had a really good idea!" Sango spoke to Miroku and he dropped a few coins into her hand. She bolted out the door and came back a short time later with a long piece of thickly woven indigo fabric.

"What the fuck's that for?" Inuyasha grunted. Sango motioned for Inuyasha to bend down again, then motioned for Kagome to climb onto Inuyasha's back. She put the top centre of the piece of long cloth over Kagome, up near her neck, and tucked the rest of the width underneath Kagome's bottom, creating a pocket for her to sit in. She drew the long tails of fabric up over Inuyasha's shoulders, wrapping them under his arms, and then under and over Kagome's legs on each side, pulling the tails firmly back around to the front. She held onto the fabric and motioned for Inuyasha to stand. He did so cautiously, worried that Kagome would fall, but to his surprise, she was held in tightly to his back by the fabric and felt lighter than she usually did.

"You 'kay Kagome?", he asked, trying to look over his shoulder at her.

Kagome rested her head on his shoulder. The fabric had her snuggled in tight against his back and was supporting her leg without pushing on the wound too much.

"Yeah, I'm good", she murmured. Sango tied the long tails of fabric around Inuyasha's waist, being careful to make the knot above the Tessaiga so he would still be able to draw it if required.

"Now you have your arms free if you need them", she grinned. "It was Shippou's idea – he reminded me how busy mamas carry their children when they need to get stuff done. I used to… to carry Kohaku like this when he was little, when my mother and father were away on a raid and I needed to practice my drills". She smiled a little tearfully at the picture Inuyasha and Kagome made. "He always seemed very comfortable that way – he usually went to sleep when I wore him like this." Sango tucked the small tied cloth of food into the top of the wrap near Kagome's shoulder. "Now you're all set to go".

"Thanks Sango. Thanks runt – you did good." Inuyasha paused to ruffle the fox kit's fluffy red fringe and Shippou beamed under the rare praise. After a final nod to Miroku, Inuyasha ran out the door, slowly at first, until he grew to trust that Kagome wouldn't fall. He sped up and was soon out of sight.

Sango and Shippou finished up their breakfast and began tidying everything into Kagome's gigantic backpack. Sango looked sideways at Miroku, who was still muttering to himself. "What's up?", she asked.

"There was something about the shrine at Mount Mitsumine", muttered Miroku, "but I can't quite…" Suddenly he stopped, looking apprehensively at Sango. "Oh no. Hidarugami! I remember hearing from a traveller that they haunt the trail near the shrine!" Sango stared at him, open mouthed.

Overhearing the conversation, Shippou nodded, familiar with this particular entity. "Ah. Good thing they took some rice balls with them."

👻 👻 👻

Inuyasha ran like the wind, his feet pounding the ground as regular as a heartbeat. He could feel that Kagome had dozed off, the gentle sway of the fabric hammock she was supported in easing her pain a little. Inuyasha smiled. The runt did have some good ideas occasionally. He would just keep going until she woke, get as much ground covered as he could. They were already nearly up the mountain, the zig zagging trail no match for the sure footed hanyou.

The dappled light under the trees kept away the summer heat, and the splashing water from the little waterfall they were currently passing was refreshing. Brightly coloured finches flew overhead, flying through the spray in an effort to keep cool. He could keep going for a few more hours yet without needing to take a break. He could see the brightly coloured gate of Mitsumine Shrine up ahead. They just needed to get through this narrow-wooded part first and then the path down the other side of the mountain would open out, as more travellers from Edo used that road to make a pilgrimage to the mountain shrine.

Suddenly he felt like he'd hit a wall. Weakness caused his limbs to tremble and he dropped to one knee, staggering, trying to keep his balance with Kagome on his back. What the fuck was going on! His throat felt dry and cracked, his stomach clenched in on itself like hadn't eaten in weeks. He lurched to his feet and forced himself to keep moving, but each step dragged like something was siphoning off every ounce of energy he'd ever possessed.

Inuyasha growled in outrage. He would not let whatever this barrier was beat him. He would keep going. Kagome needed him to keep going. He heard her moan softly behind him, and it gave him the will to take a few more steps before his legs faltered and he slammed into the ground face first.

"Gome", he whispered, turning his face away from the sandy dirt of the mountain pass, his sandpaper dry throat cracking what was left of his voice, "you 'kay?" She moaned softly again, and against his will, Inuyasha's eyes rolled back in his head. The cheerful birds continued their twittering, splashing in the puddles left by the side of the waterfall, paying no heed to the pair collapsed on the path beside them.

👻 👻 👻

Kagome was jolted out of her doze as Inuyasha staggered beneath her, dropping to one knee. A sudden wash of fear prickled the back of her neck as the dappled sunlight around them was swallowed up; she could no longer see the path ahead, and the air was suffocatingly silent.

Turning towards the waterfall her panic grew as she realised that the previously tumbling water was still. The little finches hung motionless in mid-air, the droplets of mist they had been flying through only moments before hovering as if gravity had ceased to exist. They were caught in a bubble outside time, and she had no clue what had caused it. Kagome shivered, about to question Inuyasha about what had caused his stumble, when a slight movement in the trees caught her eye; she saw them.

She felt almost paralysed by bone deep terror as the shadowy forms approached from the darkened edges of her vision. There was movement on both sides of the path, they were surrounded, but it was difficult to see any details of what they were or to count how many as they shifted in and out of the darkness. Ten, twelve maybe? Whatever they were, they gave off an undeniably menacing aura.

This wasn't good. Her bow had been left with Miroku and Sango, not that she would be able to shoot with her injured arm, and she didn't have much experience channelling her miko abilities without the focus of an arrow. Her hands and arms were tucked in tightly to her chest; she could try to wriggle them free with an effort but was worried that would throw off Inuyasha's tottering balance.

Then Kagome realised that she wouldn't be able to bring her reiki to her hands anyway, not without injuring Inuyasha. She clenched her shaking fingers into fists tight against Inuyasha's back, unable to do anything but watch and wait as the pack of unknown foes came forward into the dim light and circled around them. Kagome felt bile burn its way into the back of her throat. She had already felt ill, but to see these things up close…

Empty sockets where eyes once where, skin stretched taut over bone they advanced, lipless mouths leering in delight at the fear of their prey. Ragged kimonos and wisps of hair fluttering in a ghostly breeze of their own making, they floated around Kagome and Inuyasha, no feet to tie them to the earth. Some appeared to have lost their kimonos entirely, clothed only in tattered fundoshi, bone white skin as tight as a drum over ribs, stomachs distended with malnutrition and split with decay.

As they approached in an ever-tightening circle, the ominous silence was replaced by sibilant whispers of hunger and death. Inuyasha staggered to his feet, moving forward on the path, but how could he, when the path was no longer there? She heard him growl in rage as he struggled forwards, and she couldn't help but let out a small moan of horror as she felt the slight brush of ragged cloth against her cheek as one of them glided towards her.

The spectre reached out a bony hand and caressed Kagome's dark hair, running her locks through its skeletal fingers almost as a lover would. The head sagged on an inhumanely long neck, and the eyeless creature licked where its lips once were, tongue blackened and swollen. "You will join usss", it whispered, bending its head close to her ear and she shuddered, recoiling at the unwanted touch. She almost screamed as the dry tongue curved along the rim of her ear. "Join usss, in hunger, join usss in death."

The spectre's head lolled forward as it turned its eyeless gaze towards Inuyasha. The realisation suddenly hit her that he couldn't see the spirits; had no idea of the threat they were facing. Before she could free her arm to try and knock the spectre's hand away, it reached out towards Inuyasha's face as he grimly struggled to keep moving forwards, a light touch sweeping across his mouth and nose. Kagome would have shrieked if she was not already breathless with horror as Inuyasha pitched forward suddenly, slamming them both into the damp sandy earth of the mountain path.

She watched as Inuyasha dragged his face sideways in the dirt, his beautiful amber eyes clouded in pain. "Gome, you 'kay?" he asked, his voice raspy. She wanted to answer, to give him some reassurance, but could only produce a small sound of fear.

What should she do? How could she fight back? She didn't want to accidentally purify Inuyasha with her reiki; she didn't even know what these things were, just that they spoke of hunger and death and that she was terrified of them. Inuyasha's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, and with horror she felt his breathing become shallow, his heartbeat slowing with every beat. She was frantic. He was going to die, here on this path, and she was powerless.

A small thought swelled in her mind, bright as a bead. 'You are not powerless. You are a shrine maiden, a miko.' Pulling together her last vestiges of courage, Kagome closed her eyes, and imagined a thin beam of reiki that rose up into the air then spread outwards like an umbrella, forming a bubble of protection around herself and Inuyasha. She had no idea if her effort was affecting these things, and her mind churned, searching every memory for an inkling of what these creatures might be, trying not to weep at the sound of Inuyasha's rattling breath. She didn't think they were demons. Not demons, but dead things. Dead things on a deserted path, that wanted them to join them in death. Hungry dead things. Hungry ghosts. A long-forgotten memory suddenly unfolded.

Her father was whistling cheerfully, preparing for a weekend hike with his friends. She was sitting on the kitchen counter nearby, swinging her little legs. One by one, she handed him his first aid supplies to be packed into his backpack, and she grinned in excitement at being considered old enough to help Daddy while Mama went outside to hang out the washing. Grandpa had come into the kitchen to make tea. He rifled through the pantry and grabbed a package of mochi, pushing them into her father's hands.

"Don't forget my son, you should take these with you. It's always better to be safe than sorry when walking on a mountain path." Her father had rolled his eyes and then winked at her, but willingly packed the mochi into his backpack.

"Don't worry father, I'll be sure to be on the lookout for hungry ghosts."

Hungry ghosts. She vaguely remembered legends about those that died far from home during famine times. Their lack of proper burial caused them to wander in continued pain and hunger, and they lingered on deserted paths to force others to join them in death. That had to be what these things were! But how did you get rid of them? Was she meant to recite a prayer?

She gritted her teeth at her lack of knowledge; she was sure that Miroku would know this. Why had her grandfather suggested that her father carry mochi? Maybe it was something to do with food. Did you feed them, or yourself?

Using her last reserves of energy, Kagome wiggled her arms that were pinned by the tight wrap against Inuyasha's back, panting with the effort of maintaining the barrier. Managing to free them enough to reach the cloth that Sango had tied the rice balls and bottled water in, she frantically scrabbled to untie the knot with numb fingers, her terror rising as Inuyasha's laboured breaths stilled - then began again, now so shallow that they were almost a sigh.

'Gotta hurry, gotta hurry!' She was gasping in her haste, hoping against hope that the barrier that she'd tried to erect was keeping the ghosts at bay. There were two rice balls. She broke one in half and stuffed a chunk into Inuyasha's lax mouth and the other half in her own, then hurled the remaining rice through the paper-thin barrier at the spectres looming over them. After gulping down her own rice, she stroked Inuyasha's face and neck with shaking fingers. His usually tan skin was paper white, a bluish tinge spreading around his mouth and nose.

"Inuyasha, swallow. You have to swallow the rice." Hysterical tears rolled down Kagome's panic-stricken face, dripping onto his hair and cheeks as her voice grew more shrill. "Inuyasha! Please, please wake up. Stay here with me, don't go with them!" She tried tilting his head back by pushing on his chin, hoping it would cause a swallowing reflex, but terrified that in his unresponsive state she would force him to choke. Her panicked voice and stroking must have reached him on some level; his throat moved slightly as he swallowed a small morsel of rice without opening his eyes.

As if a switch had been flicked, the horror was gone.

It was a beautiful summer's day. Birds chirped cheerfully, flying through the rainbow hued spray thrown up by the gurgling waterfall, splashing noisily in the puddles, twittering their enjoyment. Noticing the cooked rice now scattered on the path, they swooped, squabbling and pecking, eager to take advantage of an easy meal. The dappled sunlight patterned the ground around them, leaves swaying in the breeze, and the delicate green of the forest framed the colourful gate of the shrine clearly visible up ahead.

Kagome dropped her head to Inuyasha's shoulder and sobbed quietly, releasing the barrier as the intense fear gradually ebbed away. She felt utterly drained. She took comfort in Inuyasha's heart beating steady and true beneath her, his back muscles moving rhythmically with each firm inhale and exhale of air. Her sobs suddenly turned to giggles when Inuyasha popped open an eye and spat the remaining rice out of his mouth, coughing and spluttering a little, wiping at his face. Rising on his elbow, he turned to look over his shoulder at her, growling his annoyance. "Kagome, why is there fucking rice up my nose?!"

#the importance of ramen #inukag fanfic #hidarugami #Mamabearcat fanfic

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sennextheassasinkingoflight · 3 years

Text

Firelight

Gerlion Rated T and up for minor swearing and minor nudity.

Also, I'm sorry I'm bad at technology and I've only got mobile and they updated it and I dont know/can't figure out how to put a read more break in.

Geralt and Dandelion reunite after a long time apart. Its fluff, complete fluff. They're so soft with one another.

This lovely piece was inspired by art created by @johix with permission I'll figure out how to link it. But I recommend checking out all the art.

It had been nearly nine months since he last saw his bard. It wasn't unusual for their paths to cross and diverge like the threads of a tapestry twinning around one another; close but never consistantly together. Dandelion was often called away to court, to Oxenfurt, or some festivity or other and he always went where he was wanted. Geralt never stopped him; though he often wanted to reach out, grab a slender and deceivingly muscled arm and say, "stay you're wanted here more than they want you anywhere else." But his lips stayed stubbornly shut as he watched the blond ride away on his muleish stead. He would turn his back and tend to the nearest contracts he could find. At first he'd been glad for the others departures, now they left him aching in a way he feared to define. So he would focus on his work, on the Path and push all thoughts of the Bard away until he was alone with inky night and moonlight for company. Then and only then he would wonder what his friend was doing.

This year he had been eager to get back on the path and left the keep far to early. The others had warned him but he was restless, concerned even. He hadn't heard anything from the bard in the three months leading into winter. It was May now. Summer had yet to grace the continent and snow continued to stick stubbornly to her. He hadn't made it to town, and that was okay. He was freezing but he'd dealt with worse. He stoked the fire up and leaned against the tree behind him. He flexed his fingers in his gloves to keep them from growing stiff.

He knows he should have found a cave or some other shelter but he'd been loath to leave the road. The more time he spent on it the more likely he was to run into Dandelion. Instead he began to meditate and wrinkled his nose at the scent of rain permeating the air. He hoped it would hold off until the morrow. He didn't mind rain when he didn't need to be out in the path. Meaning, he liked the rain if he was cooped up in an inn with Dandelion. He always tried to keep him from getting sick, despite the need to be on the oath. But tonight he wasn't in an inn with Dandelion. He was in forest clearing bustled against a dry spot beneath a tree with snow and ice all around him. The thought of being at a warm inn with his musician made his chest ache desperately. Slowly he managed to meditate. Meditation turned to sleep as soon as he chose to lie down in his bed roll. Roach shifted to his left to keep herself warm but never went far.

He woke cold and stiff to blue grey light. If he were a normal human and not so fucking cold he'd have probably rolled over and gone back to sleep. But instead he was a witcher and rain scented heavier on the air. That alone is enough to incline him to get a move on with the day. Carefully he stood rolling his joints, they cracked and popped at the movement sore from the last hunt and the cold. He breathed through his nose and set about feeding Roach. Then he turned to begin gathering his supplies. His heart jumped in his chest at the sound of distant music. There was a troupe, if the noise was anything to go by, traveling up the road. They were a ways off and he couldn't make out individual instruments yet. The music was to far away. Still, he forced himself to slow and methodically work through packing everything up at a more subdued pace. He had no way of knowing if Dandelion was with them, but he hoped he was. It was safer for the trabedour to travel with a group and more to his and the bards liking as well.

Satisfied that the group would catch up if he kept Roach to a walk he rejoined the road. This way he would be far enough ahead not to bother them, and close enough that if Dandelion was with them he'd be able to see him. He kept Roach at a careful pace and she seemed content to meander. His coin purse was currently full at his side, and the season was early. He could dally a little. Still he wondered at the futility. It would have been better to write to Oxenfurt or go himself. They would know where to find the poet. He listened as the music drew closer. There were several lutist. Which he could say wasn't uncommon as it was one of the preferred bardic instruments. He strained his ears none the less, Toruviels lute had a specific sound and he was well aquanited with it. He smiled and forced himself not to turn back towards the musicians. He was a witcher, he'd scare them off. He slowed Roach as much as possible. And then he heard it, the stutter of a chord gone off tune and forgotten. They way it would if he complimented the musician while he was playing. He always made the best faces.

"Geralt." He kept Roach moving, gripping the reigns hard in anticipation. Then he heard the murmurs of surprise as Dandelion ran ahead and called out,

"Geralt of Rivia, you gigantic oaf, I know you can hear me!" The indignant tone of Dandelions voice pulled him over the edge of his little game and he stopped. His heart beating a little faster, a little stronger than it ought, as it always did around the poet. He dismounted his horse and held out one hand to give or receive a hug. Something he was growing accustomed to doing with Dandelion. The bard rushed forward unabashed and wrapped his arms, one hand still holding his lute firmly, around Geralt and squeezing with all his strength. Geralt returned the favor, one armed, the other still outstretched to hold Roaches reigns.

The hug lasted longer than it ought to have, and then some. When they finally came apart Geralt raised an eyebrow and absently reached a hand out to brush shoulder length blond curls. He smiled softly amusement curling in his stomach with something far more dangerous.

"What are these?"

"Curls Geralt. You've seen them before."

Dandelion notes with brightness in his eyes. Geralt is being very tender he thinks as he flicks his eyes to the hand still in his hair.

"I know. But I've never seen them on you before. Nobles. Whores. The like."

Geralt says simply and something like sadness tugs at Dandelions heart. He was prepared with a quip but it slips from his tongue and instead he whispers out a breathy,

"You don't like it."

He looks to the ground, body language changing. Geralt smells the acrid scent of disappointment on him almost instantly. Even if he hadn't he'd have realized his mistake. He brushes his hand down and catches the lutists chin pushing it up and then dropping his hand to his shoulder. They have an audience.

"That's not what I said, nor is it what I meant, Dandelion. Introduce us?"

The poets meets his eyes and blinks. Right. Okay. He smiles,

"There isn't much to be said in introduction. I only met this lovely group last night. I don't even know all their names yet."

A short brunette in bright colors hands him his geldings reigns. They know he won't be continuing with them.

The brunette nods to Geralt and speaks softly,

"It was a pleasure to play music with you master Dandelion."

And with that the group turns down the path to the right. Geralt must have worked hard to time it so he'd be seen before they had a chance to turn down the other path. Though Dandelion would not have gone that way anyways.

Geralt looks him up and down again and and he flushes under the scrutiny and then speaks through a genuine smile.

"What is that on your face?"

He nearly reaches up to brush his hands against the white beard. He refrains barely as Geralt does it himself. He's fairly certain the man had forgotten all about it.

"Left the keep early this year. It's warmer like this."

Then he watches Geralt glare at the sky and take a deep breath.

"You'll want to put that in it's case. Smells like rain."

Dandelion moves quickly to follow his instruction and nearly jumps when thunder claps across the mountain range. He shivers and mounts Pegasus.

"Where to?"

Gerlat hesitates a moment. He shouldn't be caught off gaurde but he is. It's always this easy with Dandelion. Easy in a way it has never been with Yennefer, or with anyone else. It's natural almost to the point of being dangerous. He knows that Dandelions will follow him anywhere. Hen wont ask questions, but will walk beside him loyal and true.It eases something in his heart to see the other man beside him again. He settles something in him the way Yennefer never did. He realizes Dandelion is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

"That glad to see me?"

He swallows and clears his throat ignoring the second question.

"There is a village up ahead. If you're mule moves fast enough we may make it before the rain gets bad."

Dandelion laughs and the remnants of tension in him depart. They ride in companionable silence for a while before he asks,

"What are you doing all the way out here? The roads and weather are hardly fit for traveling, even for me."

He glances over and meets pools of bright blue sky. The poet is quiet for some time and it's only broken by the wind picking up around them and whispering through the woods as boughs bend beneath its force. The rain comes next and Dandelion finally speaks. Geralt remains facing forward carefully neutral.

"I hadn't heard anything about you in months. I had no idea if you even made it to Kaer Morhen. So, I thought to myself, Dandelion if you get closer to the keep you might hear something. Now, here I am hoping to find out if you're still alive. Figured being close would increase my chances of running into you too. And I suppose it worked."

He seems almost embarrassed Geralt thinks. Only embarrassment isn't an emotion he's ever seen on the musician. He was shameless and full of mirth. He felt deeply, certainly had had bouts of sorrow at times. But embarrassment… no this had to be something else. He seemed sombre. Almost sad as he fell into a silence that meant his thoughts had hold of him. Geralt shook his head, grateful when Dandelion did not ask him the same. Unfortunately he fell unusually quiet, normally he would grumble or speak his thoughts allowed. The silence upset him and he could sense the poet growing morose and gave him some space until he noted the bards teeth chattering. He looked miserable, lips pushed together to keep his teeth from chattering, curls gone limp with the rain. His fingers were probably just as cold as Geralts own. He slowed Roach.

"Wheres your cloak?"

" Forgot to pull it out of my bag."

He laughs. Gerlat could kick himself for not reminding the bard, but then, he was a grown man. Still the thought of him sick…. Absently he removed his outer cloak and handed it over. It wouldn't do to much now but it was a kind gesture none-the-less.

"Geralt, no sense in both of us being cold."

He simply cast Dandelion a withering glance and the trabedour smiled as he took the cloak. Geralt returned to his normal speed and missed the way Dandelion smiled into the fur and breathed deep. He almost missed the whispered "thank you" as well, but the wind carried it to his ears and he held it close.

By the time they passed through the archway of a sleepy little village he didn't know the name of, Dandelion was shivering from the cold. It had started as a thunderstorm and quickly devolved into a snowstorm. And while he had already been soaked through he was grateful for Gerlat's cloak around him. Though he was sorry too. He knew how cold Geralt often got, likely from having a slower heart rate.

They made their way with practiced ease to the local inn. Dandelion watched in slight awe as Geralt made arrangements with the matron. She had known his name, no one had so much as even batted an eye at the witcher. He shivered and tried to focus on keeping his feet warm.

The matron knew the witchers who passed this way every spring and winter. She'd been quiet young when Geralt had first met her, now she was a mother who had aged kindly.

"I'll have the boys tend to your horses. Jason's getting a fire going for you. He'll bring up some more wood in a bit."

As if on queue, summoned by his name, he came around the corner of the desk and nodded at her before heading out the back door. She smiled and handed Geralt the key. "Go on go get warm before your friend catches a cold "

"Thank you."

He handed the key to Jaskier who moved quickly forgetting his bag in his rush to get himself and his lute dry. Geralt smiled a toothy grin and shook his head shifting his own bags to gather Dandelions.

"Oh dear, I had better ask, will you be going out for supper or shall I bring some up when it's ready?"

" If it wouldn't be any trouble. And maybe a demijohn?"

She winked,

"Vodka?"

"Please."

"No problem, off you go. He's waiting."

He would have blushed if his biology allowed it. There was something about the way she looked between them and spoke that made Geralt feel vulnerable.

He followed damp footprints to their room and stepped in the door left slightly ajar. Dandelion had already hung his cloak up and stripped out of his shirt and boots, and was currently putting his lute on the chair a good distance from the fire to draw out any moisture.

"Finally Geralt! I was half naked before I realized I forgot them. And the fire was so nice I couldn't bare to go back and get them. What kept you?"

He stepped back as the bard reached for his bags and started removing his armor. He shook his head,

"Supper arrangments." He says simply.

"Then were staying in?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" He watches the musician swap a change of clothes for his night clothes.

Although he was fairly dry beneath his armor and cloak Geralt was freezing. He removed his boots and looked up only to freeze. Breath stilling in his lungs as he swallowed tightly. He followed bare leg, muscled and lean, from floor to hip, over the curve of the poets ass, over the dip of his back and up the curve of his shoulders. He let out a breath and pointedly averted his eyes. His armor needed cleaning, he was sure of it.

He hadn't thought it possible to make Geralt uncomfortable at this point. But what he'd seen out of the corner of his eye told him otherwise. Though he'd only caught him looking away. He could have looked for a moment, or minutes he'd never know. Slowly he dressed in his sleepwear. The fire had been nice against his skin and he hadn't wanted to dress damp. You got sick when you did that. He dried his hair out with a thin towel from his pack. He'd need to replace that. He made his way back over to Geralt as he pulled his shirt on.

"The fire is nice." He says gently as he sits beside him. Geralt looks up at him from his armor and nods. They stare at one another for a moment then Geralt speaks.

"You seemed upset earlier. Was it just the weather?"

Oh. He wants to lie but he would never. Besides, Geralt can read him like a book, never mind the enhanced witcher senses. He'd never stand a chance. Instead he looks away, towards the crackling fire and let's silence reign while he thinks through what he means to say. The truth but not all of it. Just enough. The only noise is the wind rustling the shutters against the walls and the gentle crackling of the fire.

"I wouldn't know." He starts voice gentle and far away. "If you died. I wouldn't know. And if I ever did find out it would be from some rumor in a tavern passed through far to many drunken mouths to hold much truth. There's no one to tell me if you die while I'm not there Geralt. And that… scares me a little. I worry for you and it would pain me to never know or to find out so late. And know that I'll never know the truth of what happened." He looks to the witcher now and meets molten sun with ocean depths.

"But," he continues, "we're both here now. No sense in dwelling on something like that."

Something shifts in Geralts face like he wants to argue. He's already working out some way to change the topic so he doesn't give himself away. He loves the man next to him that's why it scares him. The knock comes loudly from the door and he moves to open it grateful for the matrons timing.

He smiles and opens the door wide.

"Thank you." He says to both the matron and her husband as he drops wood near the hearth and she places supper and a flagon of something on the table.

"No problem. Enjoy, its roast." With that they leave them to their dinner and Dandelion is grateful for the distraction. Geralt joins him at the table but neither speaks.

Geralt presses his lips together. What Dandelion said nearly ruins his appetite. He won't press but it makes his gut twist to think of the pain his friend would be in. The agony of not knowing. Though those same thoughts run through his head when he doesn't keep them in check. He knows if anything happens to his poet there would be hell to pay. He shakes his head and focuses instead on eating. The quiet of the room is unsetteling. They should be talking, reminiscing about their time apart and it's almost grating that he can't move past the last conversation. But then Dandelion uncorks the vodka and pours them both a generous amount. He hands a cup to Geralt and raises his own.

"To reunions." Geralt smiles and clinks their glasses together. Grateful that they're falling into their rhythm.

Dandelion asks how the winter went and Geralt sighs. It's always the same. His brothers are great but he always find himself missing his poets softness and sound. He wont say this of course. He wont say he lays awake wondering what he's doing in Oxenfurt. Who hes with. If hes happy. He won't admit that loneliness creeps in on him when they're apart, that he misses pulling the bard close to his chest when they sleep.

Instead he tells him that they repaired the battlements, the walls, the stables. That Vesimir had made them clean and catalogue the library. The library he knows Dandelion wants to see and would have to be forcably removed from and he knows that the poets only joking when he says "you'll have to show me one day" but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to grab him by the wrist and take him there. He talks of training and running the trail with Lambert and Eskel like they did when they were young.

"And what of you Dandelion? How was your winter?" The musician smiles and takes a drink straight from the bottle.

"Boring Geralt. This bach of students don't care. They have no heart and less inspiration. It's like they're only there to please their parents or something. To mingle. They don't care about learning what the truth behind folk tales are or why they're wrong. The composition courses are a bit better I suppose," another drink, his face flushes pink in the flickering light of the fire," at least they can make things rhyme even if it's meaningless. And it was so lonely Geralt. I missed traveling. I know it's better for my purse, retirement, and the like to work straight in the winter and travel in the summer months but honestly, I regret it this winter. Not that I could have traveled much alone."

He's rambeling now and Geralt loves it. Loves listening to him talk about nothing and everything. The way his face goes soft and his eyes grow bright and he can only be described as whimsical. How his voice dances always lulling and pulling him in. He takes the vodka and drinks a long pull from the bottle, he shouldn't let Dandelion have much more if they want to start out early. Though if the storm keeps up they might be stuck a few days.

He acknowledges the ard with a soft hum as he gets up to stoke the fire and add a few logs. It's gotten late. He makes his way back towards the bed and brushes his hand down the poets shoulder and his arm before passing on. He crawls to the far side of the bed and waits wondering if he'll understand the invitation and join him or take the other bed. He hopes that the Dandelion understood the gesture. The poet stands and looks at him.

Dandelion takes a breath to steady himself. There are two beds and he desperately wants to join Geralt, help him stay warm, bury his face against his chest, breath in leather and earth and musk. He blinks looking at Geralt for any sign of what he's supposed to do and just as its growing uncomfortable long in his slightly tipsy mind Geralt reaches out and hand and he knows he's wanted.

"It's cold."

Geralt offers quietly as he shuffles under the blankets next to him. He needn't have bothered Dandelion doesn't need an excuse. But if it makes him feel more comfortable he'll roll with it even as it feel like lead on his chest. He rolls onto his side and buries his face into the blankets between them. The bed is small for two but they'll make it work, they always do. He watches as Geralt lounges beside him thinking about how beautiful he is with shadows dancing against his skin as hes bathed in firelight alone. Then Geralt sits up so abruptly and swallows so that Dandelion joins him instantly.

"Is everything alright Geralt?"

"Yes. Just. Don't move."

And he laughs gently, breath coming out calmer now. He catches the way Geralts throat bobs as he swallows and the shadows dance across his throat. He both wants to kiss it and compose about it. Instead he shifts a leg underneath himself and leaves the other outstretched. He's not sure what's going on but he will do as told. But then Geralt moves and lays his head in his lap and when he looks down comatose pools of cooling gold meet his own cobalt depths and his breath catches. He stutters in another one and then smiles fondly. Geralts eyes flutter shut and he can't help himself as he places a hand in white hair and runs his fingers through it. He's certain it's been months since he had physical contact that wasn't violent.

He doesn't hum or sing. This moment is precious. It will be locked in his heart, witnessed only by the firefight and remembered in the lonliest of winter nights. But then Geralt looks at him again so he smiles softly and starts to open his mouth but theres a hand in limp gold locks by his face and he stops. Heart rate picking up, but not in fear and distantly he knows Geralt knows the ways he's affecting him. But he makes no move to pull away even as the calloused hand in his hair moves up to cup the back of his head and pull him down. Instead he closes his eyes and smiles. The kiss is everything he imagined it would be and then some.

#geraskier #gerlion #firelight #fanfiction #was going to add a read more link but im bad at technology and the update is making it worse #fluff #domestic fluff #soft bois #romance

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crownin-thestars · 4 years

Text

There's a Reason Why

You know who Mega is, right? Everyone knows him as that one mute kid, but they don't know why he's mute and they don't seem to care.

But Mega wasn't always like this

Mega was usually a quiet kid around children his age and older, being quite shy and was always teased for his birthmark location. When he was around those younger, he would usually come off as a bit of a bully because of what he says to them. The only reason he did that was to get rid of stress from both school AND home.

His household was even more stressful, having a single mother and being her only child. His father had filed a divorce agreement but was unable to gain custody over Mega due to his mother presenting false cases. This resulted in, of course, Mega living under his mother's roof.

False cases? His mother sounds like the scummiest scumbag in the world, and I can assure you that that may or may not be true. The reason she wanted custody over Mega was because she was never able to reach her own goals, and with a child, she wanted him to achieve them for her. She never cared about what he wanted to do, all she cares about was that her son absolutely needed to become what she expected him to be.

This woman forced her son to be a perfect child. All A stars in school, always obedient at home and always helped her with housework. (For the record, I don't exactly know how grades work in America, an A star is the highest grade you can get on an exam in my country and a U as the lowest, standing for ungraded so I might go by that)

When Mega had told her he wanted to create content, this set her off. His mother yelled at him, so much that it brought him to tears. He was never yelled at like that for so long, the words that came out her mouth sounded like they were came from another. Mega heard things like 'You were a mistake after all' and 'why can't you let me make you great'. He didn't want to hear anymore of it, running off to his room and locking the door.

Mega's mother thought he had changed his mind, yeah that's how entitled she is, but she soon found out that she was very wrong.

Mega had come home one day on his phone. He wasn't even in the house for a minute when his phone was snatched out of his hands. He was slammed into the wall, causing a few things on the shelf next to him to fall. His mother asked him what he had been doing when he hid in his room.

Nervous, he stuttered out a 'nothing', flinching as his mother raised her arm. She screamed at him for being a lier, and told him that she had been keeping track of who and what he was texting. Mega could feel his blood go cold. Knowing who he was texting would mean her knowing what he was planning, and considering what had happened just a few days ago, he already knew she would not react well.

Mega managed to break free from his mother's vice like grip, snatching his phone back before bolting to his room. The slammed the door shut, locking it. Loud banging and screaming coul be heard behind the door. No matter how much she screamed, he wouldn't break the only barrier he had between him and his mother.

He leaned back on the wall opposite the door, his body sliding down as tears fell from his eyes. He grasped his arms around his head, trying to keep the bad noises out. Mega whispered to himself through the sobs as the banging continued. Why did love feel this painful?

Mega had come home from a long day at school. He entered his home, expecting a greeting from his mother. Nothing was said. He quickly checked the kitchen and her room, no one was in there. Mega smiled to himself. He had the home to himself till she came back! It was still noon, so he had just hoped that his mother would only come back in the evening.

Mega enjoyed the hours he was alone, not having his mother there to tell him off. He had played a few games on his phone and watched many, many videos on YouTube. In the middle of watching another video, he looked up to check his clock. It was already late at night and she hasn't come home yet.

He was confused, getting up from his bed. His mind was interrupted by a wave of pain in his stomach. I haven't had dinner. He thought, making his way to the kitchen. Mega looked in the fridge, no leftovers from the night before. That's fine, leftovers aren't the best of foods to eat. He opened up the shelves, only finding a few cans of soup and some instant cup noodles. Guess the noodles would have to do.

It was the next day, had to be a school day of course. Mega did his usual morning routine, the only thing different was that. . . His mom still wasn't home?

He sighed, going around the house to find some cash to bring along with him. He opened drawers and looked under beds. There wasn't a single penny in the whole place. He looked over at his piggy bank, a sort of last resort. He went to pick it up and shook it, sighing with relief when he heard the sound of coined crashing against the metal casing. This money he saved was meant to be a little bank account for the things that he might have wanted. Removing the little cork at the bottom, he shook the money out, it was just enough for the bus rides to school and back for about two to three days.

He grabbed the money, shoving it in his pocket. Time to get to school.

~Smol timeskip cuz again idk how America schooling systems work~

On the bus ride home, he had attempted to contact his mother, ending with it hanging up immediately. Staying on his own was an intimidating thought, and he wanted to know when she would be coming home.

He entered his home. Mother isn't home again. This time, he wasn't happy. He has never been isolated by himself like this before. That's fine. . . I'm fine. . . He assured himself. His mother was gonna come home at some point. Right?

It had been a few days since Mega had seen his mother, or had an actual interaction with someone. How many days? He had lost track. He wasn't able to go to school anymore because he didn't have money to take the bus. Mega could feel himself losing a bit of his sanity, but it was kept intact with the texting of his online friend. The house was in a bit of a mess, and at this point he didn't bother to take care of it. He couldn't tell if he missed his mother or not, the only feeling inside him being. . . Almost nothing. He kept on reassuring himself, making sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

That's fine. . . Uh oh- A noise was heard from outside the house. He couldn't tell if it was a wild animal, a burglar or his mother. Not taking any chances, he went to hide away. Mega bit his lip, afraid to make any noise whatsoever. Hearing footsteps entering the apartment made his heart beat rapidly. He peaked out of his hiding place to have a look at what was happening. He saw two adults, one woman and one man, possibly a couple, looking at the small mess of a home.

Mega must have peaked out for too long, the woman feeling something watching. She turned to where he was looking out from and saw Mega. Scared, he quickly hid away. He heard soft whispers as the sound of the trespassers footsteps was getting closer. Tears had started to drip down as the footsteps got louder and louder. Mega bit on his lip harder, trying his best to not let the crying overpower him. He knew they've found him, he knew he couldn't do anything. So he just sat there in fear.

They'll hurt you. He thought. That's all people do to you.

Mega looked up, taking in the new faces in front of him. His fear immediately caught up to him as tears burst out. He quickly tried to hide his face, trying not to show weakness. (I mean like he's 7 cut him some slack-)

He heard some sort of packaging open as a small scent of cookies filled the area. He peaked up and saw that the woman was offering him the delicacies. He accepted them with gratitude as he started munching on them. They reminded him of how his father made them when they were still together. . .

The man came to sit down next to the young, scrappy and hungry child, ruffling his hair a little bit as the woman knelt down in front of him with a smile. Mega cherished the company he had around him, softly chewing on the chocolate chip cookies given.

This was the most loved he has felt in so long. . .

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

Word Count: 1621 words

HAHA I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THIS!! Bro I ran out of words to write at the part where the couple came into the house, so the ending might have sucked a bit, but I still quite like that ending.

Also watched Hamilfilm recently, currently obsessing over the songs, hence that Hamilton reference I put in there.

Also yes I made a 7 year old smart as heck because why not? Dream was able to connect his computer to his neighbor's electricity when he was 15 so it's possible to be overly smart at a young age.

Side note that these are the very same people that decided to take care of him and help him grow up.

Side note #2 if you haven't guessed it yet the issue I was wanting to raise awareness about is child abandonment. I don't know how well I did with writing this because I consider myself to be a privelaged child.

#minecraft #mcyt #mcyters #headcanon #megapvp #fanfic #fanfiction #tw: childhood trauma #tw: child abandonment #tw: mental health #since i cant draft it im posting it now

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pancakeelf · 3 years

Text

Mmmm tumblr seems like a better place than twitter to have a meltdown

I cant even put my thoughts down coherently. So this is mostly just a "hey here's a visual of my thoughts so I can work through it better" sort of thing.

It's funny to me how I can experience the big sad while also laughing and smiling and making jokes. It's like there's two different people. The one on the surface and the one inside. The surface one doesn't even necessarily feel like me either. They seem like a stranger. That being said the inside me writing this doesn't feel trapped, but they feel ... Conflicted? Confused?

It's not like they're being forced to stay back, but they choose to. Out of fear maybe?

Recently I've been getting stuck and wrapped up in my head. Inside me that is. I'm trying to figure out what "me" is. Who am I?

Gender and sexuality has had a huge part in trying to figure this out. When I try to find a proper "label" for myself everything falls short. I'm AFAB, but I've never felt overly feminine. I don't know if that's because I was raised to like certain things or if that's just me. I always was considered a "Tom boy" but that never felt right, and neither did classifying myself as a guy.

So now I'm thinking agender, but I don't even know what that means. Everyone has their own definition for it but that feels wrong for me. I don't like unstructured things. Things need to have a pattern or some base that I can grasp a concept to.

I don't want a label. I just want to exist simply as me. I feel detached from reality because of this. Like I don't exist. I just.. float. My only purpose is to be a bland minor character everyone passes in their epics.

Fuck. I don't know.

I don't even feel like this describes what I feel well enough. Everytime I try to talk to someone it just ... I can tell they try to relate or understand but it feels shallow.

#the big sad #personal

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leo-interactive-fiction · 5 years

Text

Halloween Special

A little short skit about the ROs finishing up their trick or treating! The genders were determined by a coin flip along with input from discord members. If you wish to give your input for future skits and such, feel free to join! Any without further ado, enjoy!

"Trick or treat!" a cacophony of voices assault the woman as she opens the door. Nina hand simultaniously reach out at the offered bowl to grab a piece of candy at random, and the door shuts.

"Taffy…" Pinna's scowl deepens as she inspects the candy she got.

"Oh…Oh…I'll take…it…" Matthew leans close to his sister with as much excitement as he can muster, slowly reaching out to her palm before it closes into a fist, enclosing the candy within it.

"What're you gunna trade for it?"

"How cruel. Even to your own brother," Ren wags a finger at her with a slight shake of her head, "although I guess you're just acting the part." She gestures to the little devil horns atop Pinna's head, the only accessory on her otherwise normal clothes. Pinna's face reddens slightly.

"Shut up! It's not like it was my idea anyway. Maybe you should act more like your appearance!"

"What, this?" Ren does a slight twist, showcasing small angel wings on a costume that shows off a slightly risque amount of skin with a little halo, settling with a slight wink, "I think it's quite fitting. Now all we need's a morally gray character."

"Present." Vee monotones as she waddles up in an oversized penguin costume that makes her appear several inches taller. With a straight face she attempts to salute, only to be constrained by the overly large fin. The sound of a camera shutter could be heard as Snatcher deviously takes several photos, dressed in the cotton overalls of a newsletter reporter, complete with a short-brim cap.

"This's like watchin' a turtle in the desert race. I ain't never gunna see anythin' this mythical again."

"Oh, make sure to get some shots of me!" Ren cheerfully calls after the photographer.

"As long as you don't take any of me…" Pinna mumbles, earning her a pat on the shoulder from a hesitantly smiling Emil, who's dressed in the bright colors of a comic superhero, a large E emblazoned on the chest.

"Don't worry, it's not about the candy or anything like that. Just spending time together is good enough!"

"Oh, is that all that is considered for this occasion? Then I believe I shall take my leave," Flay gathers up her long silken dress and takes a dignified step away before being called back by a pouting Emil.

"Hey, you promised!"

The matriarch sighs and repositions herself among the small group with a slight dismissive wave, "Fine, but I expect you to honor your portion of the agreement when we travel back."

"Which was…?" Leah hesitantly enters the conversation, spurred by her curiosity.

"Go remedy a different situation, quack doctor." Flay waves off the scholars attempt while referencing the modest nurse costume she wares.

"Er, um, I-It's a uniform donned by medical professionals in the service of—"

"Are most medical professionals also hard of hearing?"

"Well," Emil jumps in the middle of the conversation as amiably as he can, "What did you go as, Flay? It's very, um, expensive! For a costume, I mean."

"Costume? Why would I willingly subject myself to the blight of public humiliation? I will leave that to those of you who are less sensible than I."

"Sounds like…you went…as a…chicken…" Matthew teases, earning a deepened scowl from the princess. Ren laughs from a slight distance away, having heard the comment, and she and Snatcher give Matthew calls of praise. Before Flay's wrath can be put on full display, Pinna steps into the middle of the immediate group.

"I think that's enough. It's getting late, so let's go home."

"Good enough for me," Snatcher hums as he unwraps a sucker and slips it into his mouth, "Ya want one?"

"Fine…" Pinna snatches one of the hard candies and unwraps it, taking a forceful bite and shattering the sugary treat.

"Ya didn't break a tooth, did ya?" Ren winces slightly along with Emil.

"That's…how she…always eats…" Matthew explains, "I prefer…chewy…Oh Pinna…do you…still have…that taffy…?"

Pinna toss a piece of flatly pressed packaging towards her brother, causing a small hum of thank to emanate from the drowsy student.

"What exactly are you dressed as?" Snatcher questions as he walks next to the humming student. Matthew pauses in opening the cellophane to gesture to the thin green lines on his arms and neck that shift and intersect at various points.

"I'm…a computer…if it was…a human…"

"An android," Leah establishes, "How interesting. I didn't think you were interested in technology, Matthew."

"Well…I'm not…but it was…fast to…make…I used…marker…"

"Ah…" Leah shifts awkwardly as she walks, growing silent as she realizes she would be unable to further the discussion in the direction she was hoping for.

"You all forgot about me!" Raven darts out of a bush panting, small twigs stuck to her baggy military uniform while leaves rest atop her silver wig.

"Are you…Vee?" Snatcher questions.

"I'm Vee." Vee states matter-of-factly.

"You all…forgot about me," Raven catches her breath, a slight smile spreading on her face, "So I dressed as someone you wouldn't forget!" The entire group stays silent as Raven attempts to mimic the monotone voice and expressionless face, "Reporting for duty."

"You're not me." Vee restates.

"Yes I am!"

"I'm not that tall. The hair is too long. Your eye color is different. Your breasts are too big. You saluted wrong. Put your feet together."

"Alright, well…you two have fun with that…" Pinna guides the rest of the group away from the expressionless soldier and expressionless soldier in a penguin costume as they both attempt to salute. The night fades away with the sound of fading footsteps and cheerful banter.

Happy Halloween my amazing readers! :)

#triaina academy #skits #interactive fiction

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fatehbaz · 5 years

Note

I really love and appreciate your blog, primarily because I have zero background in this field but your posts are very good at presenting bite-sized pieces of information that encourage thoughtful consideration without browbeating me for my ignorance. Every time you post something, I'm like "I'm gonna learn something cool and important!" and I'm never afraid that I'll be belittled for needing to learn it. (1/2)

Oh. Wow. Thank you. I know I’ve said before that I struggle to accept when my effort is acknowledged or when kind things are said about me. I do struggle. So, once again, I am a bit speechless, especially at the magnitude of acknowledgement like yours here. Thank you for … recognizing me and for letting me know this. You’ve given me what is probably the most important type of compliment, the one that probably means most to me. Which is that I, in whatever capacity, have been involved in making someone enthusiastic, and that specifically I’ve somehow encouraged excitement about learning A Thing. I know this sounds like something you’d hear from, like, a lifeless artificial intelligence-infused robot programmed to embody the worst of superficial but ultimately cynical 1980s-era sloganeering. But I mean it, and I want to try to explain why.

Regarding “education” and sharing of information generally: I see sharing of information as a sort of community. You share your expertise with me, I try to contribute something as well. Mutual respect. Mutual aid. Respect for each other’s experience and autonomy. Genuine consideration for each other. Stuff like that.

Regarding the amount of my writing that ends up being “informational” even when I didn’t originally intend for it to be: This is going to sound a bit childish and schmaltzy, but I just want to share. But, like, not share in a “please listen to me speak” kind of way. It’s more like, I want to really share. When I’m rambling about landscapes or salamanders or ecological relationships or whatever, I don’t want to force-feed information to people, I don’t want to be perceived as woke or knowledgeable or authoritative or whatever. It’s more like … I found a shiny rock or a dazzling orchid, right? And I’ve got it in the palm of my hand, and I’m holding it up and I’m saying “look, look at this thing, isn’t it precious!”

Sometimes, it’s literally because I found a frog or a wildflower, and I’m like “look!” Is it kind of about validating my own existence? Am I asking “Am I the only one seeing this? Confirm or deny if I’m really alive and participating in consensus reality by acknowledging that we’re observing the same thing.” Maybe a little bit. But still. It’s more like: “We’re all depressed, we’ve all been traumatized, the world is dying in flames, but look at this thing! This toad is smiling at us!”

—-

Your words are a lot for me to process, not only because they are thoughtful and kind and specific, but because you’re directly talking about two things that I honestly and wholeheartedly care deeply about: (1) enthusiasm for sharing information, and (2) patience (or, more specifically, finding a balance between “avoiding coddling” and being patient and accessible.)

I really don’t want to distract, but I hope you don’t mind if I just ramble for a minute about coddling and compassion? (I ask rhetorically as I continue to ramble anyway!) I’m not going to monologue just for my own sake, I promise. (I know that it might sometimes look like I enjoy hearing myself “speak,” and I promise that I really don’t.) Instead, I want to say this as a way of letting you know that you “correctly identified” the things that I care about when approaching dialogue, education, and community-building.

On coddling: I care deeply about compassion. Something I didn’t get a lot of exposure to as a child or young person. I actively try hard to consider where other people are coming from. Though, of course we won’t coddle people who consciously provoke harm, people whose actions and opinions actually and consistently result in harm. Like, I won’t ever hesitate to call-out mean-spirited stuff; abuse; unjust violence; stuff like that. (Well, in fact, I actively look for these things to call-out, especially IRL or in-person.) But, in a group of well-meaning people, who genuinely want to be good, who might have some “not-great” opinions but who are genuinely willing to improve when encountering new information and who won’t resist and deflect upon encountering the information? I absolutely have multitudes of patience for that.

As someone who cares for and explicitly writes about decolonization, I have to say: I have patience for well-meaning people. Lots of patience. Don’t get me wrong, though. We’ve seen this behavior on this site and online spaces aplenty: If people resist and deflect when encountering new information, in order to preserve their own privilege and comfort – and this is key! – even after they’ve been shown resulting harm and they have consciously recognized the harm they might inflict? Were they really “well-meaning” to begin with, then?

So ultimately, I really don’t want to sound overly sentimental, like an after-school special, or in the way that a person might mask their own quiet discontent by overcompensating with superficial florid performance of extreme emotions, but! I feel obligated to say that I’ve been a not-great person plenty of times, and I’ve had plenty of “ontologically incorrect” opinions. And I try to constantly improve, to lessen the harm that I still cause, even if it’s inadvertent. So, if people mean well, I want to offer patience and extend benefit of the doubt. I didn’t always get offered that room to grow and improve when I was young. And it’s painful, and I don’t want to inflict that upon anyone who’s genuinely putting in the effort. It’s extremely disheartening, if someone is actively attempting to improve and participating in an educational dialogue. You know how some people get dramatic secondhand embarrassment on behalf of others? I experience secondhand wincing and pain when I see someone who’s genuinely trying to learn get shut down.

I guess that, by saying this, I wanted to basically let you know that I’m very grateful that you brought these issues up. And thank you so much for specifically saying that I’ve actually, occasionally achieved that balance between patience and avoiding excessive coddling. I don’t know if I have, but I’m glad it shows that I’m trying!

(Despite all this florid writing, in “The Real World,” I’m told that I physically appear somber and perpetually angsty, for what it’s worth.)

–

So, the feeling’s mutual, in a way? (Makes sense?) I am grateful to know people here and I’m grateful to share. We’re sitting in the cyber-prairie opening, pointing at the pool in the stream’s eddy: “The 11,000-year-life of civilization is collapsing and we’re caught in the middle! Look at these salamanders!”

Typical response from me: needlessly long, overwrought, meandering, probably looks very pretentious. Thank you all for tolerating me. I mean it.

I feel like I’m not doing you justice by leaving this with a simple “thank you,” so just know that I sincerely appreciate that you reached out.

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mikkomacko · 5 years

Text

Wonderwall 1

"You're gonna be the one that saves me."

I had seen him around, everyone had. It's hard not to notice the Harry Styles, slayer of Lord Voldemort and girls hearts. He's popular, in a unconventional way. Everyone knows him and everyone adores him, but he's not the kind of boy that has a million friends. He has two extremely close ones, Liam Payne and Niall Horan. Sometimes Louis Tomlinson hangs around him but that's when he's not macking on his girlfriend.

People are drawn to him, whisper about him, giggle when he passes by. He's a sort of ghost while also being a living legend. Of course, the mystery of how he managed to survive the killing curse, cast upon him by Lord Voldemort, gave him a magnetic field that draws people in.

It's that, and his devilishly handsome looks, that I blame my connection with him for. Since the first day of school, seeing him be sorted into Gryffindor house, I've known that something was different between us. I could tell by the way he froze when he saw me, green eyes wide and curious. It had felt like we had this zing rush up our spines. And ever since then, we've been odd around each other. We never really spoke, for not only am I forbidden, but neither of us enjoyed the energy that took over when we communicated.

I thought it had something to do with magic, and I was right of course, but it wasn't as simple as I thought. I thought our spirits collided because we were different, we were polar opposites. We collided because a witch, with the eyes of a hawk and a brain of a dung beetle, spoke it forth. Harry Styles and I collided, because we were destined to.

"Lily!"

The Hogwarts Express blows out a warning whistle, steam hissing out to fill Platform 9 3/4. I thank the bell hop that has taken our luggage, turning to grab Zayn so we can board.

He's wrapped up in his mom's arms, not really hugging her back because he's too cool for that, but pressing his face into her shoulder. Like usual, his mother wipes tears from her eyes and pats his cheeks.

Zayn's sister, Zhavia is next to be pulled into a bone crushing hug. Unlike her older brother, she easily hugs her mom back, face hidden in her chest. Zhavia receives a pat on the cheeks as well.

"Alright you three," Their mother breathes, reaching out to me. I step closer, gladly excepting her hug. "onto the train now. Wouldn't want you to miss school this year."

"Yes you would." Zayn says, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. I chuckle at him, grabbing his outstretched hand and waving goodbye to his mom.

"Bye mum!" Zayn calls over his shoulder, pulling me along with him. We board the train, turning left to go to our usual compartment. As always, it's empty and Zayn tosses his bag onto the left bench and I take the right.

"Can I sit with you?" Zhavia asks timidly, poking her head in. I shrug, giving her a nod of approval. Zayn sighs but doesn't argue so his sister plops down on the bench next to him.

Zayn looks around at us for a moment. He's frowning, more than usual, meaning he's contemplating something in his head. Zhavia gives him an innocent smile, picking up on his behavior as well. Zayn switches his gaze from his sister to me.

"Did you bring the bottle?" He asks quietly.

I nod, lifting up my backpack from the ground and patting it. The plastic bottle caves under the pressure but pops back up after.

"Good," Zayn grins. "I brought my candies."

"What candies?"

Zayn, Zhavia, and I all freeze. In the compartment door that we happened to leave open, stands none other than Harry Styles.

"None of your business." Zayn tells him, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry shrugs, shouldering his way into the compartment. He places his bag on the rack over head, falling into the seat next to me.

"Alright?" He asks, dimples on full display as he pats my knee. My breathe gets caught in my throat. His eyes, a warm spring green, stare at mine and I remember that I'm supposed to act like I don't know the plushiness of his lips or the strength of his fingers.

I nod, quickly removing my gaze from him to the boys that are shuffling into the compartment as well. Across from me, Zayn is glaring at Harry while Zhavia looks at him with heart eyes. I'm not sure which look I hate more.

The train compartment is humid and stuffy, filled not only by seven Hogwarts students, but also the wrappers of all the sweets Harry purchased for the group of us (that ended up being eaten mostly by Niall).

Zayn is brooding, obviously displeased that we're stuck with four Gryffindor boys. I know it's partially my fault, they're all here because Harry's here, and Harry's here because I'm here. Even so, I didn't believe Harry would sit with us and I really didn't think he'd bring his gang.

After minutes of tangible awkwardness, Liam clears his throat, the sound loud in the little compartment. "What do your parents do Zayn?" Liam asks, doing his best to smile at my pouting best friend.

"My mom works in real estate, sells houses and stuff, and my dad's not around." Zayn mumbles, not moving an inch. His gaze is fixed on the window, arms locked over his chest and legs crossed at the ankle. Zhavia discreetly elbows him.

"Oh," Liam breathes, obviously not expecting to hear that Zayn's dad isn't in the picture. Everyone falls silent again, Liam and Niall looking between Zayn and I.

"I hear your parents are dentists, right Liam?" I ask, desperate for something else to be said. I don't think I can handle another second being squished between the window and Harry, slowly suffocating on the tension.

"Yeah!" Liam beam, eagerly leaning forward. "My dad got bit once, had to get a bunch of stitches."

"That's crazy." I force a grin, not particularly excited by the story but glad that Liam has begun to speak more. "I went to the dentist when I was little. I got to pick out this finger trap toy but I got my dad's fingers stuck in it and he ended up lighting it on fire. Never went back after that."

Liam laughs, nodding his head as if he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Wow," He heaves, chocolate brown eyes gleaming. "I didn't know wizard kids went to the dentist."

"They don't." I explain with a shrug. "But my mom was raised by muggles so she kind of pushed their practices on me."

"Niall's dad loves muggles." Harry pipes up, nodding towards Niall. Niall's eyes widen, glaring at Harry for bringing him into the conversation. "Maybe you can have Lily chat with your dad one of these days, he'd love that." Harry says to Niall.

Niall huffs, pursing his lips as if he's thinking of a response. After a moment of consideration, he nods. "Maybe for Easter holiday or something you can come visit." Niall grumbles, not sounding too pleased with the offering.

"Oh," I respond, pretending to think it over. I don't want Niall forcing himself to be nice to me because of Harry. It doesn't matter that I kissed his best friend last year, Niall Horan and I don't get along and it should stay that way. "I don't know. I'm probably busy, ya know stealing from children, killing puppies, the usual Slytherin things."

I give him an overly polite smile, shrugging. "Don't forget beating up the elderly." Zayn adds, finally looking over at Niall. He too, gives Niall a fake grin, squeezing my foot that's stretched across the cabin and resting on his lap. "It's kind of a tradition in our house."

"Sounds fun," Louis peaks over Harry's shoulder and gives a cheeky grin. "Can I join?"

Taking a sip of my pumpkin juice, I find the nervous eyes of Zhavia Malik at the Ravenclaw table. It's obvious she's trying to get Zayn's attention but he's too busy filling his pockets with dinner rolls to notice.

Zhavia gives me a helpless look, the same eyes that her brother has, brimming with tears. Knowing that, while Zayn loves his sister, he's awful at comforting people, I set my goblet down on the table and climb off the bench.

"I'll be right back." I tell Zayn, waving Zhavia towards the doors of The Great Hall. She's quick to jump up, following me out the double doors and around the corner so I can speak to her privately.

"What's the matter?" I ask, plopping down on one of the cement stairs. She's follows, swiftly sitting down and hugging her knees to her chest.

"I don't think I should be in Ravenclaw." She says shyly.

"The fact that you put a lot of thought into this is further proof that you should."

She huffs, flopping her head down to rest on her knees. She speaks through the fabric of her robes. "But I really thought I'd be in Slytherin with you and Z."

"No you didn't." I say softly, placing an arm around her thin shoulders. "You hoped you would be but that's not who you are. You're far too clever for Slytherin."

"What if no one in Ravenclaw likes me?"

"Like that would ever happen." I snort. "You're just like Zayn, I'm sure everyone wants to be friends with you. But if you ever need anything when we're not around, I want you to go find Hagrid or Professor McGonagall and ask them to come get us, ok?"

Zhavia lifts her head, hopeful eyes meeting mine. "You really mean that?" I nod, squeezing her in a brief hug.

"Thanks Lily." She murmurs.

"Of course." I reply. "Now get in there and finish dinner, they should be bringing out the sweets soon."

Giggling, Zhavia rises to her feet. She takes off in front of me, disappearing around the corner and back into The Great Hall. Sighing to myself, I follow. I'm rounding the corner, dusting off my robes when I bump into someone.

"Shit, sorry-"

"Alright?" Harry interrupts, his hands grabbing me around my arms, gently pushing me back around the corner and against the corridor wall.

I peer up at him, curiously waiting for him to explain what he's doing out here. He grins down at me, thumbs brushing back and forth on my arms.

"You alright?" He repeats, softer this time. He takes a step forward, close enough that I can feel his hips against mine.

"Yeah." I say. My eyes stay stuck on his, my brain reeling with the memory of him holding me against this exact wall last year when he had kissed me for the first time.

The left side of his mouth lifts into a smile that's topped off by one of his infamous dimples. "You're too sweet to be in Slytherin."

I grin. "And you're too dorky to be in Gryffindor."

"I guess both of us look pretty deceiving." He responds and if it weren't for the warmth in his eyes, I'd have taken his words negatively.

Before I get the chance to retort, the hands on my arms are cupping my face, drawing me forward and a familiar pair of lips are slotting together with mine. My own hands grab onto his robe, tugging him even closer to soak in the heat that pours from his body over mine, knowing I'll need it for the cold night in Slytherin common room.

"Sometimes I wish we weren't so cool."

I snort at Zayn's words, looking up from the potions book I was reading. He's draped across the bottom half of the black leather couch, the green lanterns behind him casting a mystic glow around him.

"I mean it," He grunts as he sits up, straightening out the collar of his black robes. "If we weren't so cool, I could find other people worthy of my company and not have to follow you around as you follow Harry Styles around."

"I'm not following him around!" I whisper harshly, swatting at Zayn's arm. I cast a look around the common room, checking to make sure no one heard. Slytherins aren't very fond of Gryffindors, let alone Harry Styles.

"Sorry," Zayn rolls his eyes. "I forgot that you're just 'keeping an eye on him.'" I scoff at him, shutting my book and tossing it at him. It smacks into his shoulder and falls to the floor with a clatter.

"Do you mind?" Pansy Parkinson shouts from across the room, causing a bunch of first years to flinch. "We're trying to talk over here, Jackals."

"Sorry Pansy." I huff, reaching down to pick up my book. She gives me what I assume is a smile, ducking her head down to continue her discussion with Merula Kane and Elizabeth Riot.

"Anyway," I whisper, scooting closer to Zayn so I can keep my voice down. "I'm just doing what my parents asked of me and it's awkward enough so please don't make it worse."

Zayn gives a small laugh. "It's only awkward when you're with his friends, especially Niall. When you're not paying attention to them, the two of you look quite comfortable with each other."

"What?" I gawk, staring at Zayn in bewilderment. "It's always been extremely awkward around him, I've told you this and you said-"

"I know what I said." Zayn cuts off, taking my book from me with caution. I let him pull it out of my hand and tuck it under his arm. "And I know, you get this weird, like vibe from him but as I've said before, that's just the sexual tension between you two."

"I can't believe you!" I hiss, cheeks burning at his words but stomach swooping pleasantly. "I don't want to fuck him!"

"Yes you do." Zayn laughs, catching my wrist when I swing my hand at him again. "That's why you're always so weird about talking to him. And why you look at him every time he comes into the room."

Too worked up to say anything, I settle back into the couch and bring my knees to my chest to hide the fact that I feel like Zayn can physically see my heart pounding against my rib cage.

"If I'm being honest," Zayn murmurs, bumping his elbow against mine. "I think this all started when your dad actually forbid you from speaking to him."

"Would you stop!"

"Just hear me out!" He begs around a chuckle. "You've always thought he was hot and then your dad not letting you talk to him makes him even more hot and now you're being 'forced' to spend time with him. This is all just coming back to bite your dad in the ass."

"Excellent theory," I say sarcastically. "but I'm not spending time with him. I've said two words to him since the whole Hogwarts Express thing so explain that."

"Alright." Zayn smirks, eagerly rubbing his hands together. "You've noticed that he makes you all hot and bothered so you're proud not talking to him. But somehow you always manage to get caught up in his messes. Like the whole Sirius Black thing."

"That was an accident brought on by my father."

"What about the Tournament then, huh? You were awful worried about him."

"Only because he was being chased down by an Azkaban escapee!"

"Stop making excuses!" Zayn growls lightly. "If you opened your eyes for two seconds you'd see that you and him are into each other. That's why you let him kiss you last year, you didn't feel bad for him. You're into him."

Not wanting to discuss this anymore, I reach around him and rip my book free of his hold. Ignoring his smug smirk, I flip it back open to the chapter on identifying poisonous potions and continue reading.

The sun shimmers off the Black Lake, casting a glow over the cut of Zayn's cheekbones and jaw. I roll my eyes, irritated that no matter where Zayn is sat he seems to always look perfect. In the warmth of the summer, wearing only a black tee-shirt and jeans, he looks like he should be on the cover of The Rolling Stone. In the dungeon, where the lanterns and the lake cast eerie shadows, he looks like he should be the bad boy of a teen romance movie. It's not fair that someone is allowed to look so good all the time.

Puffing out a breath of air, I push my dark hair out of my face and sheild myself in Zayn's shadow. I continue adding the recipe of chemicals the Horan twins asked for that would allow a firework to burn for ten minutes while in motion.

"What are you huffing about?" Zayn questions, squinting at me from under his thick eyelashes.

"S'just hot." I reply, not wanting to tell him that I think he's got a veela somewhere in his line of ancestry.

"You always complain about how cold the dungeons are but now that you're finally getting some warmth, you're still complaining." He tsks. "There's no pleasing ya, is there Jackals?"

"Whatever," I groan but I'm unable to stop the smile pulling at my lips. My favorite thing about Zayn has always been how easily we get on. Since the first train ride to Hogwarts, Zayn's been by my side with a witty comment on the tip of his tongue to follow my sarcastic ones.

"I take it back." Zayn chuckles. "I think I found something that'll please ya."

Not particularly listening to him, I double check the potions book that's laying in the grass. "What's that?"

"Styles and the rest of his 'holier-than-thou' friends are heading over here." I look up at Zayn, ink blotting the parchment I was scribbling on as I push down too hard.

"Fuck," I mumble, hoping it dries quickly. I look up just as Zayn sends a wave towards the gang of Gryffindors that's being led by Harry himself.

"Zayn," Harty greets, nodding. "nice to see ya again. Mind if we sit? The weather's awful nice today."

Zayn shrugs. Harry falls onto the grass next to me, shrugging off his robe and leaving him in just a white button up with his tie falling down his broad chest. Louis, Niall, and Liam do the same.

"Alright?" He ask me. I nod.

"Hi Lily." Liam greets, smiling at me. "How have ya been?"

"I've been good." I say, looking down at my lap to check if the ink dried. Once it has, I begin writing again.

"What have ya got there?" Harry asks, leaning over my shoulder to see what I've been writing.

"S'for Fred and George." I say, lightly nodding towards Niall as if Harry wouldn't know the older Horan boys.

"What is it though?" He pries.

"For their fireworks." I reply simply.

"They're trying to make one that lasts longer and she's got a knack for potions so they asked her for help." Zayn explains, blowing his hair out of his face.

"You're really that good at potions?" Niall asks. Out of the corner of my eye I see Liam elbow him. "Sorry, I just thought Snape gave ya good marks because you're Slytherin."

I ignore him, not really knowing what to say. They've never interacted with Zayn and I like this before. Sometimes Harry would approach me after meals for light conversation but not once has he and his friends sat with us.

"I'm awful at it." Louis tells me, bumping my knee with his foot. "Maybe you could help me out some time?"

"We could have like a group thing!" Liam jumps in. "I need to improve my marks in there too!"

I shut my potions book, setting the parchment on top of it to dry. I meet Liam's eager gaze, trying to keep the confused look off my face.

"The first time you spoke to me was three weeks ago. " I turn to Louis. "You stole my homework last year after I worked on it for a whole night." I look at Niall. "You told the whole school I was petrifying people in Second Year." I look at Harry. "And no matter how much I try to help you, Snape would never give you high marks."

They all give me guilty looks, except for Harry who just nods and looks down at his lap. "This is why everyone tells ya your bitchy." Zayn snorts, elbowing me.

"Yeah ok, Mr. Brooding." I scoff. "I've never seen any fifth year with as many frowning lines as you."

"Least I'm not mean."

"You just implied that I was being a bitch when I was actually being honest." I argue. Zayn shrugs, smirking at me before returning his gaze to the Black Lake.

"Alright," Niall sighs. "We've been dicks to you, especially me, and we're sorry. You're just so scary, it's hard to be friendly with ya."

Zayn snorts as if to trying to say "I told you so."

"Why do you want to be friendly with me anyway?" I ask, choosing to not comment on my "scary" looks.

"We just thought it'd be nice to be friends with you." Harry says softly. "Especially after what happened last year."

I hum, thinking over Harry's words. Just like Zayn, the sun shines through his curly hair and highlights his face. He looks like he's been casted in gold and laid out in a museum. Even squinting into the sun he's gorgeous, dimples sunken in his cheeks. Warmth pools in my stomach but I'll blame it on the heat.

"Technically, I can't tell you what to do." I say, giving Harry a sly look. "So you're free to hang out wherever you want and if I just so happen to be there, then I promise to not be a bitch."

Harry smirks, dimples sinking even more. He gives me a nod, pushing a hand through his messy hair. For a brief second, the scar on his forehead is visible but his hair falls to cover it before I can get a closer look at it.

Louis and Liam begin chatting about some candy they tried last night, making Niall and Harry focus on them. I meet Zayn's gaze, rolling my eyes at his smug smile. It's the same one he gave me after claiming Harry and I fancy each other.

I blow him off, leaning my back against his shoulder so I can listen to Louis speak. I end up watching Harry, admiring the curves of his nose and lips. It's really not fair that someone is allowed to look so fucking good all the time.

Sighing heavily at the sight of the defense against the dark arts classroom, I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

"Let's get this over with." Zayn mutters, glaring at the doorway. I huff out another breath, taking the lead and entering the classroom. I follow the aisle between the desks, faltering when I get to the table Zayn and I usually sit at. In Zayn's seat sits Harry Styles, casually leaning back to speak to Niall, who is sat at their usual table.

"What?" I mumble, looking back at Zayn. He rolls his eyes, stomping his feet and taking the seat next to Niall. I fall into the seat next to Harry, slamming my text book onto the desk a little too loud.

Harry looks to me with a concerned furrow in his brow. "Alright Lily?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I mumble, placing my forehead in my palm to try and will away the blush that's creeping up my neck and burning my ears.

"Ya don't look fine lovie." Harry says quietly. He turns his body towards me, knee knocking into my thigh and warming my skin. "What's wrong?"

"I just didn't sleep well." I sigh, chest feeling heavy as my mind replays the nightmare I had last night.

"Bad dream?"

I nod, rubbing my knuckle into my eye without even thinking about the mascara I probably smeared everywhere.

"Want to talk about it?"

Yawning gently, I meet Harry's eyes through my blurry gaze and give him a closed lip smile, shaking my head.

Harry nods, sympathy etched into every corner of his handsome face. Umbridge enters the classroom and I don't hesitate to lie my head on my arms and fall into a nap-like state as she drones on. I'm on the verge of actually falling asleep, my body heavy and numb but mind still aware when someone clears their throat, the sound akin to that of a frog.

Sighing in irritation, I lift my head to find none other than Umbridge glaring down at me, her ugly pink bow casting a shadow over her eyes.

"Hello professor," I smile innocently. "love the bow. I hear Voldemort has a green one, do you guys trade off every once in awhile?"

Snickers break out across the room, Harry's being the most prominent. My lips quirk up into a proud smirk.

"Why are you sleeping in my class?"

"I'm just preparing for all the sitting and waiting I'll be doing when the Death Eaters are torturing me." I deadpan. "Since, you know, I'm not learning to cast spells or anything."

"As I've said before," Umbridge hisses, her lips twisted into an overly kind smile. "there is no dark magic waiting for you out there. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is gone!"

I hum, thoughtfully. "Maybe I should call up Diggorey and ask him. Oh wait," I fake a gasp. "I can't because Voldemort killed him."

Once again, snicker echo throughout the otherwise silent room.

"Detention Ms. Jackals." Umbridge grits, already turning on her obnoxiously pink heels and storming away.

Sighing, I grab my bag off the floor and sling it over my shoulder. "See ya Harry." I mutter, climbing out of my seat and grabbing my book. I turn to look at Zayn.

I tap my knuckles on his textbook. "Good luck, Z."

I make my way through the desks, mind foggy as I think of returning to Slytherin common room for a much needed nap before my detention. I'm almost to the doorway when Umbridge calls out my name again.

I turn on my heel to look at her, faking a smile.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I nudge my thumb in the direction of the doorway behind me. "Figured I'd go prepare for the mental anguish that is writing lines."

"One of these days, that smart mouth of yours will get you in a lot of trouble."

I smirk, tossing my textbook into the trash next to the door with a loud thump. "I'm counting on it."

Ignoring Umbridge's glare, I spin around and exit the room, smiling at the thought of my pillowy bed waiting for me.

The painful throbbing behind my eyes does nothing to dull the stinging of Umbridge's lines on the back of my hand. After three hours of writing lines, the quill scratching the letters into the back of my hand, Umbridge had given up on my lack of tears and now even more heavily instilled attitude towards her.

I drag my feet away from her office, hand clenching and unclenching, reveling in the brief half a second that it goes numb. The corridor is dark, the candle lights casting shadows across the walls. A few feet ahead, nose stuck in a book sits a familiar boy with familiar floppy curls.

My lips quirk up into a grateful smile when I spot him. He's changed out of his robes, now clad in a dark green hoodie and a pair of tight black jeans. His usual brown boots sit on his feet, the toe of his left one curling into his right one.

"Harry?" I ask even though I know it's him. His head snaps up, eyes lighting up when he sets his gaze on me. He shuts his book, placing it on the bench next to him and clambering to his feet.

He meets me halfway down the hallway, his pace quicker than usual. As soon as I'm in arm's length, he's reaching for my hands. Out of instinct, I tug my left one back and tuck it behind me.

Frowning, Harry tugs me closer by my left hand. "Let me see it, lovie." He urges, free hand slipping around my waist and hooking his fingers around my wrist. I let him pull my hand forward, focusing on the candle burning against the wall so I don't have to look at the disappointment on his face as he reads the words written in blood.

I must respect Umbridge and her big, fat mouth

His thumb tickles over the unwounded part of my hand. He lets out a tiny laugh, so quiet I wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for how closely were standing to each other.

"I'm assuming that's not what she asked you to write?"

"Technically it is." I answer. "I just added my own touch. If I'm going to scar, might as well personalize it."

He drops my right hand, instead cupping the back of my neck in his warm palm. I shiver at his touch, meeting his gaze. His eyes, mossy and mysterious as the Forbidden Forest, watch me intently with a sort of warmth that I can feel bubbling in my stomach.

"You're too much." He whispers, squeezing my neck softly.

"It's my specialty." I grin, nudging my shoe against his.

"Lucky you're cute," He murmurs, dimples sinking into the plushy part of his cheeks. I find myself dreaming of pressing my lips into them.

"Why's that?"

"I'd be biting your head off for antagonizing her if it weren't for how sweet you look right now."

Humming, I let my body fall into his and tuck my nose into the thick column of his throat. He smells of cinnamon and pine with a hint of campfire and it makes my toes curl.

"Do you not like being seen with me?"

His words take me by surprise, his voice still soft but not as confident as before. I wrap my free arm around his waist, shaking my head softly.

"I just don't want the drama that will instill if we tell everyone. " I say, keeping my answer vague. I don't exactly want to tell him that I'm afraid of the way my father will treat him if he finds out.

Harry stays silent. I pull back enough to look at him, knocking my lips against the bottom of his chin. "Think of all the shit we'll get from our houses. I'd like to enjoy being snuggled up to you without Kane or Parkinson biting our heads off."

"Wouldn't it be worth it?" Harry asks, using his chin to gently nudge me to look up at him. "Getting to hold your hand all the time? Walk ya to class? Know I'd take good care of you, lovie."

"I know." I respond immediately. One of the first things that drew me to Harry was how kind he is. Whether it be the fact that I didn't receive this kind of protection at home growing up or if I'm just a sucker for Harry, doesn't matter because I love how open I feel when it's just him and I.

"Will you think about it?" He breathes, breath fanning over my blushing cheeks. "For me?"

I nod, blinking sluggishly when he leans closer to me and pecks his lips between my eyes. "Thank you Lily."

"Of course." I whisper, leaving my eyes shut as he pecks the tip of my nose. "Anything for you, H."

My breath catches in my chest, finally feeling his lips mesh with mine for a tender kiss that makes my chest ache for more. I let my eyes flutter open when he pulls away, meeting his dopey gaze and realizing how utterly fucked I am when I notice his hoodie brings out the darkest green of his eyes, but standing in the empty corridor, wrapped up in him I don't care what my father or anyone else has to say about us.

#wonderwall #hogwarts harry styles #harry styles au #harry Potter cross over #harry styles #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #au #harry edward styles #slytherin x gryffindor #Slytherin #gryffindor #order of the Phoenix #fluff #cute #Harry Styles x reader #harry styles harry potter imagine

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