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shiinata-library · 2 years

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Office’s treasure - Part 5

PART 1 | PART 4

Relationships: Kíli x female OC

Content: Modern AU, Office AU, fluff, slow burn

When the sun had already risen and breakfast time was past, someone was very hungry and he knew how to make himself understood. With his small paws, Merlin jumped on Alice’s bed and walked on Kíli as if he was just a duvet.

Kíli grumbled for some seconds before understanding what was happening. Alice was already laughing before she opened her eyes. She came closer to Kíli and buried her head into his chest.

Now Merlin knew they were awake, he continued to walk on them and miaow until Alice sighed.

“I’m going to feed him otherwise he’ll never stop,” she said as she got up from the bed, still naked.

“Ok, I’ll wait for you!” he said as he looked at her until he couldn’t see her.

Once Alice fed Merlin, she joined Kíli in the bed, now wearing her yoga pants and a t-shirt. It was late, but she didn’t even know when they fell asleep, so they could stay in bed a little longer, right?

She slipped under the duvet and Kíli drawed her to a kiss. Alice couldn’t stop but smile at the sight of his childish smile.

“I could easily get used to waking up with you in my arms!” he said before kissing her once again.

“With Merlin running over you?” she laughed.

“Merlin is better than Lana!” he said before burying his head in her neck.

They stayed a while motionless, hugging each other with only the noise of Merlin eating his food. Kíli knew it was too soon to ask for her to live with him in his place, but he would love to wake up next to her every morning. Autumn morning, winter morning, spring morning, summer morning, any time!

“Can I ask you something? Hm, something I wanted to know since we’re dating,” Alice said without daring to turn her eyes to him, the ceiling being less intimidating.

“Yes, of course. Anything you want,” he replied, hiding his worry.

“What ‘Bunnanunê’ means?”

A laugh escaped his mouth, expecting something more serious. Annoyed by his reaction, Alice raised up enough to be above him. Her frown eyebrows made Kíli laugh once again.

“Why are you laughing? Did I say it wrong?”

“I just wondered when you ended up asking for it. It took you a while!” he said, seeing her eyebrow still frown. “It means ‘My little treasure’.”

Alice looked at him seriously for a long time. She thought each time he called her like that. At work, while his family was able to understand it. On the hike, when they weren’t dating yet. Her cheeks blushed, but it wasn’t finished yet.

“And what ‘Amrâlimê’ means?” she tried to ask with a calm voice.

For some seconds, Kíli avoided her eyes as his cheeks turned redder than hers. She felt his hand on her waist tense and his breathing changing.

Regretting that she had made him uncomfortable, Alice was about to change the subject when his eyes turned back to her with a shy smile.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” he said with a low voice. “I don’t want you to run away.”

“I didn’t run away when you ordered a pina colada,” she smiled as she tucked one of his locks back behind his ear. “Please Kíli.”

“It means ‘My love’,” he said as he held her hand still in his hair.

Alice’s heart jumped in her chest and her blood warmed her whole body. She didn’t expect that answer. Even if she was ecstatic, she didn’t know how to react.

As for Kíli, her silence didn’t seem good. Her astonished face wasn’t good either. It was too early. He shouldn't say it. He had almost dropped her waist when she leaned to him and kissed him with passion. Kíli also felt love in her kiss. As she pressed her tender lips against his, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him.

All his anxiety accumulated for days flew away immediately. She didn’t run away. She was still in his arms.

When she moved away and looked at him, she could see a blissful smile and sparkling eyes.

“I–” she tried before clearing her throat with emotion. “I love you.”

It was simple and clear. Honest and liberating.

Alice smiled as she saw Kíli’s face light up. Without delay, he drew her to him, squeezing her strongly in his arms. Now they had confessed to each other, he could tell her how much he loves her without restraint. Tell her, and show her.

They didn’t leave the bed before long…

…

After this night, Kíli and Alice regularly slept at each other's place, never forgetting the little Merlin in the organisation. How could they forget a cat as cute and always hungry as him anyway?

Often together, Alice also needed quiet time for herself sometimes. A calm day at home, retouching her photos, planning her next place to photograph, or spending time with her friends.

Speaking of her friends, Fíli entered the break room when Alice was alone inside, lost in her thoughts. She only reacted when he sat in front of her with his usual charming smile.

“Oh Fíli! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” she said as she eventually looked at him.

“You still didn't find a solution, did you?” he asked, losing his smile and sipping his coffee. “You can come to my place, you know?”

“Nonsense…” she sighed. “And no, I still have to give my apartment back in a fortnight. With such a short deadline, I can’t ask my friends. The only solution is to move back to my mom’s home while I find a new place.”

Fíli raised an eyebrow at her ‘unique’ solution. He couldn't help but sigh before her stubborn behaviour.

“Your mom lives two hours from here by car. What about Kíli? I’m sure he would be happy to live with you. More than happy if you want my opinion!”

His laugh echoed in the room until he saw Alice frowning.

“You promised me you wouldn't tell him anything. I hope you kept your promise,” she said as she stood up and throwed her paper cup in the bin.

“Who do you think I am? Of course I didn't tell him, but that's because you forced me to. If it was up to me, you would have already moved in with my brother's apartment.”

“Then, I’m glad it wasn’t up to you,” she said too curtly before calming down as she walked to the door. “I'll manage on my own, don’t worry. I always find a solution.”

“You don’t have to do everything on your own, Alice,” he said as she left and closed the door behind her.

Alice never received her landlord’s letters telling her to leave her place for months, but she will manage alone. The strange part was the landlord should know where she lived since it was his apartments, even his building, but it was no use to be angry. She had to find a new place quickly, or she would end up at her mother’s home, whom she didn’t know yet.

Alice had always found a solution on her own. Why should she ask for help from her boyfriend? It wasn’t because he was rich that she should beg for staying at his place! It was too early in their relationship to move into his home. With a cat moreover!

So, no. Kíli will know she has to move when she has already found a new apartment. By then, she will act like nothing happened.

Saturday after her discussion with Fíli, Alice spent the day with Kíli, a perfect day when they went to an interesting photo's exhibition that Alice wanted to go to, then they went to the cinema to see a superhero movie that Kíli was dying to see.

For the evening, a dinner was planned at his uncle’s place with his family, just his brother, Emma, his uncle, and his mom. Alice already met Dís a few times at several dinners, so she was more comfortable with her. She discovered they had surprisingly more in common than she thought: their love for organisation and whiskies.

Alice was also more at ease with Thorin since all their dinner ended up in the man’s cave, like that very Saturday night.

The two brothers were playing at the pool table while Thorin and his sister were talking about their next holidays. As for Emma and Alice, they were sitting on very comfortable armchairs, drinking what Thorin gave them.

Emma wasn’t at her first drink and she was telling Alice some work’s anecdotes of Kíli before she had arrived in the company. Alice had her ears wide open.

“Shut up Emma!” Kíli shouted from across the room. “She didn’t have to know that!”

“What? When Bofur forced you to sing for Fíli’s birthday, or when you spent a whole day to hide from Dwalin because you broke his computer?”

“Both! Why does everyone tell her anecdotes of me everytime? Alice, do you ask for it?”

Alice avoided his look, making Emma and his brother laugh. She was glad to spend a merry evening with them. It kept her mind off her hurried house move, which she still hadn't found a solution for and which kept her anxious night and day.

When Emma saw Alice lost in her thoughts, she raised up from the armchair and suggested joining the brothers. With a smile, Alice followed her and the night continued.

After saying goodbye to Dís and Thorin in the house, Emma, Fíli, Kíli and Alice did the same outside with each other before going to their car. Fíli had brought Emma with his car, and his brother did the same with Alice. They could have taken only one car, but Fíli had planned to stay the night in Emma’s place after the dinner. So, it was time for goodbyes with smiles and laughs.

“Be careful on the road, Fíli,” Alice joked. “Don’t break any other cars.”

“It just happened once!” he grumbled as he hugged Alice while she was laughing at her joke.

“It was a fun night,” Emma started as she hugged Alice. “This kind of dinner will be more complicated when you’ll live with your mother, but I hope you’ll still come!”

Alice tensed in Emma’s arms, hoping Kíli didn’t hear what she said, but of course, he heard it. Chatting with his brother, he thought he heard it wrong, but when he understood, he looked at the two women with a questioning face.

Avoiding Kíli and Emma’s eyes, Alice turned quickly to Fíli, as if he could do something while it was too late.

“With your mother?” Kíli asked innocently as he walked to Alice. “What does she mean?”

“Oh I’m so sorry Alice!” Emma honestly apologised, her drunk tongue having spoken faster than she wanted. “Fíli, I’m sorry!”

Emma was panicking more than Alice, and Fíli didn’t know if he should laugh about it or not. Not now anyway!

He walked to Emma and put a hand on her back, stroking it slowly to comfort her. It was too late anyway, the damage had already been done. He didn’t like the lost look of his brother, but what could he do? Alice made him promise not to tell him.

“Wait, what is happening? Why does Emma apologise to you and Fíli?” Kíli asked as he took one of Alice’s hands, shifting his gaze between his brother and Alice several times.

Alice was totally frozen. It couldn’t be worse! Why did it have to be this way? Why now? What should she do?

“Can anyone explain?” Kíli asked, losing his patience while everyone was silent.

As he saw his brother becoming more and more angry, Fíli decided to intervene and stepped in front of him.

“Calm down, Kí–”

“Don’t tell me to calm down while you all know something that looks important about my girlfriend when I don't,” Kíli exclaimed as he unintentionally squeezed Alice’s hand, startling her.

His eyes weren't full of anger, they were sad and lost. It was better to tell him the truth before it gets worse.

“I have to move out of my apartment in a fortnight,” Alice said, hoping it will calm the brothers. “And I think I'll be back to my mom's place.”

Her intervention stopped the two brothers as she hoped, but it didn’t calm Kíli down, however. He dropped her hand and moved away from them, walking in an invisible circle.

“In a fortnight! So explain to me why everyone knows except me, hm, your boyfriend, right? Why to your mother's house, who lives two hours from the city?” he said as he ran his hand over his face, trying to calm down.

“Only Fíli knows, hm, and Emma. Even my mom still doesn't know. I– I wanted to tell you when everything would be done. I didn’t want to worry you. I just wanted to manage on my own…”

“Stop wanting to do everything by yourself, Alice!” he shouted, startling the two women.

“Kíli!” his brother intervened, raising his voice and standing himself between Alice and Kíli. “Don’t yell at her!”

When was the last time he called her by her first name? There was no more Bunnanunê or Amrâlimê.

It wasn't their first quarrel but the first time he yelled at her like that. Alice was stupidly frozen, not knowing how to act once again.

When Kíli saw Alice’s afraid eyes, he understood he went too far. The surprise made him explode and he already regretted it. His heart arched when he walked toward her and she stepped back, lowering her eyes and saying “I’m sorry” with a trembling voice.

Now his brother calmed down, Fíli wondered if he should let them talk or still stay between them.

“What the hell is happening here?” Thorin said in a severe voice as he was coming out of his house.

Once he was in front of them, he waited for an explanation. Fíli told him more or less what happened while his brother stayed quiet. Then, Thorin asked Fíli to take Alice back to her home before going to Emma's place. Kíli tried to say something but he was quickly stopped by his uncle. According to the look and the tone of his uncle, he knew he didn't have a choice, so he let Alice leave with his brother without being able to tell her anything.

The first steps that Alice made in her apartment were slow. At the sight of all her things almost in cardboard boxes, tears came to her eyes. Even Merlin came to stroke her legs as if he knew something happened.

Yet, she shouldn't cry. She was a strong woman who always managed on her own no matter what. A good hot shower, a good sleep with Merlin, and she will be fine!

The next day after the dinner when Kíli discovered everything, Alice decided to call her mother.

Even though her mother would be happy to have her daughter at home, she explained she was already hosting a friend of hers who was just separated from her husband. She offered to take Merlin until she found a new place, but Alice told her she would think about it.

Alice hid her deception, understanding her mother’s friend surely needed more help than her. Her mother told her she will try to find a place in her town, and let her know when she finds it.

It was getting worse and worse. Alice didn’t dare call her friends either, fearing to disturb them.

To avoid thinking about it, she packed as many boxes as she could, then laid down on her couch and watched TV. She ended up falling asleep with Merlin against her.

Monday is no fun for anyone, but for Kíli, it was different when he started dating Alice, because he could see her when he wanted. However, he had been dreading this day since his argument with Alice.

He came to work early, without his usual smile. No one asked him anything, guessing something had happened with Alice from his behaviour.

As Emma didn’t see him take a morning’s break, she texted him to have lunch together. He didn’t reply, so she came directly to find him at his desk at lunch.

“I guess you didn’t call her or see her yesterday,” Emma said as she sat with her sandwich in the archive room – their secret, quiet gossip base.

“No, I wouldn't have known what to say,” he sighed as he was looking at his sandwich on the table. “How could you hide this from me, Emma? We talk almost every day…”

“I’m sorry, but I promised Fíli I won’t tell you,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “But now you know everything, I can tell you that you should help Alice. She seems stubborn, but from what Fíli said to me, she needs help. She won’t find a place in two weeks.”

“If she needed my help, she would have come to me!” he exclaimed, still angry with Alice’s lies. “Why always Fíli? Why does she trust Fíli more than me?”

“It’s not about trust. Believe me. I think you should speak with her. Calmly.”

“I don’t know…”

His whole confidence had disappeared when he discovered Alice’s lies. It wasn’t truly lies, but she didn’t seem to trust him as much as his brother. So, what could he do more than him?

After their lunch, they went back to work and came across Alice as she was on the phone. She simply nodded to them and continued her walk. Without a word, Kíli looked at her until he could see her.

As soon as she arrived in the morning, Alice explained her situation to Bilbo, then she tried to call several estate agencies, but none of them had available apartments in such a short time, or they were unaffordable. She took a short break for lunch to catch up on her work.

At the end of the day, almost everyone was left while she finished a project. Fíli joined her as he sat on a chair next to her. He waited until she totally finished her work before talking to her.

“What can I do for you, Fíli?” she asked as she turned her eyes to him.

“Come with me for a drink, we should talk,” he said in a serious voice, leaving her no choice. “A pub near your place if you want.”

“Alright, let me take my things and I’ll follow you.”

There was no joy in Alice's voice and no smile on her face. She simply followed him to the lift until they joined their own cars.

At the pub, Alice was in the mood for any alcohol, so she ordered a cappuccino. She will have trouble sleeping anyway. Fíli ordered a beer and some snacks that he alone ate.

“Come to my place. There is enough space to put your things and the little furniture you have,” he said as he was eating some fries.

“What are you–”

“I talked to Emma about it,” he continued as if she never spoke. “I’ll live with her until you find a new place. Maybe Merlin won’t be happy with Lana’s hair everywhere, but he’ll adapt.”

“I can’t accept, Fíli… You’re my friend. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s because I’m your friend that I do that, Alice. And you don’t really have a choice anyway,” he said in a relaxed tone as he finished his fries.

Alice knew Fíli was right, but she didn't want to impose herself at his place. If it was to be like this, she would have preferred to move in with Kíli… But it was too late for that, right?

“Unless you would rather go to my brother's place,” he smiled as he looked at her, waiting for an answer or a reaction.

“Let me think about it until Friday. I’ll call you if I find no other solution,” she sighed before changing the subject to think of something else.

Sometimes a week is long, and sometimes it’s too short. This very week was extremely short for Alice. Friday night came and she still hadn't found a solution.

Parked outside her home, the rain was so heavy that she waited in her car for a while until it calmed down. Quietly in her car, she called her mother. Unfortunately, she didn’t find a place for her in the town. She was worried about her daughter but Alice reassured her about Fíli’s solution. As he had said, she finally didn’t have a choice.

The thing she hated the most was she couldn’t find a solution on her own. That, and her argument with Kíli. They didn’t even talk or text during the week.

At this though, she couldn’t hold her tears anymore. It was too much. She felt so lonely. As the rain subsided, she decided to get out of her car and go home. At least at home she could cry comfortably.

Sniffing loudly, she reached the door of her apartment. But her tears stopped at the sight of Kíli sitting on the floor in front of her door.

As he heard her coming, Kíli stood up, but when he saw her red eyes and her wet cheeks, he ran to her. As he cupped her face with his two hands, he wiped her tears with hurried but delicate fingers.

“Amrâlimê, are you alright? Oh no, I’m stupid! Of course you’re not! I’m so sorry!” he said before hugging her suddenly.

As she hugged him back, Alice couldn’t hold the rest of her tears and wept on his coat until she calmed down. Her heart warmed at the sound of his Khuzdul word. She missed it so much. His arms around her already comforted her more than all the things she tried during the week. How could she have missed him in less than a week?

“I'm the one who is stupid and sorry…” she whispered when her eyes were dry and her capacity to speak returned.

“We should go inside and get warm. You’re trembling,” he said in a calm voice as he led her to her home.

Since Sunday, Kíli kept thinking about Alice and trying to figure out how to talk to her again, how to apologise, how to help her…

It was only after his brother told him Alice was planning to move into his apartment that he finally decided to see her.

Once entered her place, Kíli saw all the boxes and realised she was very ready to move. He asked her to sit down on her couch while he was making cappuccino. Knowing her place as his own, he quickly finished it and joined her. Merlin was already on her lap, asking for attention and strokes. Kíli let her drink a little of her cappuccino before talking.

“Come live with me,” he simply said with a hesitant smile. “I should ask you the second I knew you had to leave your apartment.”

Alice looked at him, biting her lips to stop new tears to fall. She hated to see him asking that like she was a poor abandoned dog with home. She didn’t want him to ask her that because he didn’t have other choices.

“I can’t move in your place like that,” she said seriously before raising her hand to stop Kíli from starting to speak again, while she put her drink on the coffee table. “Let me speak. I don’t want to be a burden. We have only been dating for a short time. I can’t take advantage of you because you’re kind and rich while I’m poor and I’m leaving with a cat. You know how restrictive it can be to live with a cat, don't you?”

“I’m sure Merlin loves me,” he whispered, not wanting to cut her as he saw a light smile on Alice’s face.

“And what if we can't both get along living together? We already see each other every day at work…”

“What if I tell you I wanted you to live with me for a while but I didn't have the courage to ask you? Hm, the first time you stayed at my place, I didn't want you to leave again. I thought you already understood I don’t care if you have money or not. Oh, and I promise I’ll behave well if we live together.”

His serious eyes didn’t leave her as he raised a hand and stroked her hair, the hair part with his small braid. He was so glad she still had it after how he yelled at her last Saturday. Leaning to her, he kissed her forehead slowly and came back to his place.

“I love you so much. I'm so sorry I yelled at you last Saturday.”

“You shouldn't be sorry because you were right. You should tell you everything and even ask for your help. It would have saved me many days of stress.”

“I’m glad you think so, Amrâlimê!” he said as he pulled her to him, forgetting Merlin on her lap and making him jump to the floor. “You should ask me whatever you want! Don’t be afraid of it!”

She eventually laughed at his words. He was far too enthusiastic for a subject like that.

“I want you to kiss me,” she timidly said with puppy-eyes Kíli couldn’t resist.

Without a word but with a big smile, he executed her request. At first, he kissed her gently not wanting to frighten her, but when she ran a hand in his hair, he deepened their kiss. He missed so much her soft lips, her tasty tongue, and the sound she made when he pressed her against him.

Alice could kiss him all the evening but she slowly moved away, with an embarrassed smile.

“And I want to move in with you.”

This simple sentence warmed up Kíli’s heart more than he thought. She was too cute before him and he couldn't resist kissing her once again.

“Anything you want. And of course, Merlin comes with you!”

Alice looked at him with the biggest smile she never did. She was relieved to have found a solution, but above all very happy to live with him. It was another step in their relationship, but she was sure everything would be fine.

#The Hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfiction #kili #kili x oc #modern au #office au

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merlinmyrddin · 4 years

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Pssst, chapter four of Love is Spelt B.D.S.M is online!

#its a miracle #i thought this fic was dead !!!!#bit here it is ; risen from the ashes !!!!#damn right!#merthur #ao3 fic #ao3 link #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #merlin #bbc merlin #arthur Pendragon #modern AU #slow burn #tw : drugs #alcohol #idk

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tsumusamu · 4 years

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amortentia iii [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff, mild angst, hogwarts!au, awkward feelings, (fr)enemies to lovers

warnings: slight implied sexual content

words: 13.6k (IT’S LONG I KNOW </3)

part one / part two / part three (you are here)

content under the cut

Atsumu still thinks he’s living in a dream.

Finally, after seven years of hopelessly pining over a girl who hated him (he has to admit that he is the only one to blame for that), he’s finally on your (kind of?) good side. Atsumu had honestly thought that he’d never get this far, despite the fact that the state of your relationship is still so, so far from what he wants it be. But, he supposes he can work on that over time (if you’d give him the chance to, of course).

At dinner, he is in a complete daze. Thrice he nearly face-planted into his mashed potatoes while he was far-off in a daydream in which he is snogging you in a broom closet. Atsumu was interrupted all three times by his brother roughly yanking him back before he fell, which he would be grateful for if Osamu didn’t almost pull out every hair on his head each round.

“Get yerself together, ya dumbass idiot. Ya have it so fuckin’ bad. It’s embarrassing.” Osamu gripes after the third time, but Atsumu barely responds to his comment. He’s too busy craning his neck in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, trying to catch a glimpse of you. (He’s not obsessed, he swears.)

He spots you among the crowds of Ravenclaws, but you’re completely surrounded by your friends as per usual. When he angles his head just right to see you clearly, you’re as radiant as ever. You’re happily eating even more treacle tart with that cute little grin and delighted dust of pink on your cheeks that appears when you eat your favorite treat (yes, as shameful as is to admit, Atsumu had picked up on several of your habits while observing you from afar for so long).

Just then, your (E/C) eyes tear their gaze away from your treacle tart. You almost end up making eye contact with him, but Atsumu ducks his head in embarrassment of being caught, instead shoveling such a large forkful of roast chicken in his mouth that he almost chokes. As Atsumu starts coughing up a storm, Osamu, finding this whole ordeal very entertaining, doesn’t even bother to offer a half-hearted pat to his hacking brother’s back. Even more mortifying is how Atsumu notices a slight twitch of your mouth as you avert your eyes from his table, as if you’re trying hard not to laugh.

He almost misses those days when you thought he hated you, and he thought you hated him. Now you know of his feelings towards you, which ended up making the whole experience all that more nerve-wracking. At least back then, Atsumu wouldn’t worry as much about what you thought of him. But he knows that’s stupid of him to think about. He finally might have a chance to win you over for real after all this time; he’d be foolish to let that all go now.

Atsumu mentally cringes at his many failed attempts at courting you over the years.

Clearly, he has some kind of ability to charm women, what with all the girls following him around, but with you, he would always turn into some kind of babbling mess when he tried to be serious for once. Atsumu had made a fool of himself way too many times in his shitty efforts of trying to properly express affection. Everything, from insulting you after mumbling a compliment, to sprinting away when seeing you round a corridor with a confession left unsaid on his tongue.

Merlin’s Beard, he wishes he can erase those moments from history.

He’s surprised you even bother to give him the time of day at all after all those years of bullshit.

Atsumu notices when you excuse yourself from the table, and before he can stop himself, he’s already risen from his seat to hurry across the hall in an attempt to follow you. He misses how his brother and Rintarou are whispering to each other with smug smiles on their faces as they watch him go. Thankfully, as dinner is nearly over, other students are also starting to file out of the hall, so he doesn’t seem all that suspicious.

You peek over your shoulder curiously as you notice someone’s footsteps falling in tandem with yours right behind you. You raise an eyebrow when you see a flushed Atsumu.

“Hey,” you greet simply.

“Hey,” he responds, a little out-of-breath, but not from chasing you. He’s an athlete; a little sprint wouldn’t make him tired in the slightest. It is more so how your mere presence is making his stomach tie into knots and his breath escape his lungs. Atsumu can feel himself turn even redder. This behavior is honestly so unlike him that he can’t even begin to fathom why he is so flustered for no reason, especially since the two of you had made so much progress in your relationship within the past few months. Not only that, he is the one meant to make you flustered, not the other damn way around!

Somehow, the time spent with you bonding over food in the Hogwarts kitchen seems far more intimate than any other experience he’s ever shared with a female.

Now he’s standing here in the corridor stuttering like a shy school boy at the memories of sitting with you on the tiled kitchen floor, not even doing anything remotely considered intimate, but just talking with you.

Thankfully, you don’t seem to be all that much affected by his strange behavior, calmly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and looking up at him, poorly-disguised amusement dancing in your eyes. “I’m off to the Owlery to give Kou some owl treats.” You pause. “You can join me, if you want.”

“Sure.” Atsumu’s voice trembles just the tiniest bit, and he prays you didn’t notice.

“Do you want some treats for your owl, too? I’ve got plenty to share.” You dig up a few boxes of treats from the pocket of your robes. The inviting smile on your face is so effortlessly adorable that Atsumu has to physically resist the urge to blush. He really does have it bad, doesn’t he?

“No thanks, ‘Samu sent Inari out today and she won’t be back yet,” Atsumu explains, and you nod in understanding. He follows you up to the West Tower’s Owlery, which thankfully isn’t too long of a way from the Great Hall, as he doesn’t know how long he could take the silence that befalls the pair of you as you stride down the corridors.

You swing open the Owlery’s door with an eager smile on your face. Atsumu vaguely recalls your friends always questioning why you spend so much time in the Owlery. He has also noticed that you visit your great-horned brute of a bird quite often (he is most definitely not a stalker; it’s a simple observation!). He briefly remembers overhearing you tell your friend that you go up to the West Tower not only to send many letters home to your worried Muggle parents, but also to give lots of your treats to your owl.

And Atsumu can tell that you feed your bird well, because the gray feather ball you call your pet is incredibly plump. It looks more like a fattened, discolored chicken raised for slaughter than an owl. But Atsumu keeps his mouth shut; if he wants to win you over, he can’t insult your owl.

“There you are, Kou baby.” You coo adoringly as you unlock the cage that holds your Great Horned owl, Kou, who snuggles up affectionately against your cheek. You gentle pet the bird’s feathers and fish a package of Eeylops Premium Owl Treats from your pocket, offering a few pellets to Kou, who greedily gobbles the treats up. Kou squawks in delight, playfully nibbling at your hair, and you laugh joyously, happily stroking your owl’s head.

The other owls seem rather envious as they observe the scene with their big, yellow eyes.

Atsumu also feels a slight twinge of jealousy at your unabashed display of love for your owl Kou.

That stupid gray bird has no idea how lucky it is. What Atsumu would do to have you pet his hair like that…

But no, currently your loving attention just has to be solely focused on your dear owl.

And this dear owl, come to think of it…

“Kou, no!” Before you or Atsumu could say or do anything, Kou launches himself out of your arms with a mighty squawk onto Atsumu’s head, clawing at his blonde hair.

“What the hell,” Atsumu spits out through a flurry of feathers. “Goddammit, (L/N), get your bloody bird off of me — “

…absolutely hates Atsumu’s guts.

The owl continues to hoot and squawk in Atsumu’s face, all while turning Atsumu’s hair into a disheveled mess and occasionally pecking his scalp to elicit pained yelps from the boy.

You start to laugh, much to Atsumu’s dismay, and Kou seems to be delighted at your reaction, hooting even more loudly.

Atsumu resists the strong urge to hex your dumb chicken of an owl.

“Kou,” you scold in a much less forceful manner than Atsumu would’ve preferred. “Come here. Off.” Kou, giving one last aggressive and painful peck to Atsumu’s forehead before begrudgingly taking flight only to land on your left shoulder, still glaring hatefully at him.

Atsumu glares right back.

“What was that, ya fuckin’ dishrag?” Atsumu spits distastefully. “Yer lucky that ya belong to (L/N), or I woulda transfigured ya into a washcloth.” Kou twitters angrily, flapping his wings agitatedly.

“Don’t be mean to Kou!” You immediately defend your pet. “You were just trying to protect me, weren’t you, baby?” Your voice drops to a soft and loving croon as you gently stroke your owl’s beak. “You wanted that big mean guy over there to stay away, didn’t you?” Kou chirps in agreement, twirling his head right and left.

“Hey!” Atsumu exclaims, offended, but you ignore him, still baby-talking to your owl.

“Don’t pick a fight with my baby boy.” You narrow your eyes at Atsumu. “I can understand why he doesn’t like you, considering the way he’s seen you treat me for seven years.”

Right. Every year at King’s Cross Station, Atsumu shouts insults at you as you pass by. You always have your owl cage on your trolley, with Kou watching Atsumu with his giant, golden eyes. When you had seated yourself in the same compartment as the twins and Rintarou on your first ride to Hogwarts, Kou had been there to witness the start of the rivalry between the two of you. All those times when you had happened to run into him on your way out or in the Owlery, Kou had seen Atsumu’s treatment of you as well. In fact, Atsumu even tried to provoke Kou once just for the hell of it, earning a deep, well-deserved cut on his pointer finger.

“Well…” Atsumu’s protests die on his tongue, and he suddenly feels so, so small underneath the withering gaze of Kou.

“It’s okay, Kou, big meanie Miya has changed. Well, kind of,” you explain to your owl, but Kou remains skeptical-looking. “He’s still rude sometimes, but — “

“(Y/N)!” Atsumu whines out your name childishly. When you throw your head back to laugh, you miss when Kou snaps his beak threateningly at Atsumu for using your given name.

“I’m alright, Kou, really.” Despite your words, Kou is still eyeing Atsumu suspiciously.

“If I ever do anythin’ to make (Y/N) cry, I give you full permission to peck my eyes out,” Atsumu tells Kou in a dead-serious manner.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, and Kou mirrors your curious expression with a tilt of his gray, feathered head.

“I’ll take care of her, Kou.” Atsumu is now having a staring contest with your great-horned owl, chocolate irises locked with gold. You hold back laughter at how intensely the two of them are drilling their gazes into each other.

“Now now, Miya. Don’t get it twisted, I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” You feed Kou another few treats, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Atsumu even as he swallows his food.

“I promise,” Atsumu says solemnly to your bird, completely ignoring you. “I can’t say that I have many excuses for the way I acted before, but I’ll do my best to make it up to her.”

Kou simply blinks his large, yellow eyes, hooting softly.

“Please believe me. I won’t ever let her — or you — down.”

Your cheeks turn slightly pink and you hold back a chuckle at how very earnest the famous Atsumu Miya sounds as he talks to your owl. Never in your seventeen years of life so far did you ever think that your greatest pain in the ass would try to win your owl’s favor. Due to how well you (unfortunately) know Atsumu’s stubborn personality, you know there’s no convincing him to stop talking to Kou until he gains ‘approval’.

“Here.” You hand Atsumu the box of owl treats. “Try giving him one. He doesn’t accept treats from anyone except me. If he takes one from you… it means he trusts you.”

“What if he bites my fingers off?” There’s a slight note of fear in Atsumu’s voice as he clutches the small package in his hands, eyeing Kou nervously.

“Well, I’m sure that’s a possibility. Good luck.” You smile innocently.

“Gee, thanks,” Atsumu scoffs sarcastically, reaching into the box to retrieve a few pellets. He lays them flat on his palm before holding them out to Kou. “Pleasetakethem,” he whispers quietly as a quick prayer.

Kou considers the little brown pellets resting in Atsumu’s outstretched hand. He snaps his beak a few times, and Atsumu visibly gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in anticipation. Kou leans his mighty gray head down towards Atsumu’s palm, his golden eyes glancing up to lock eyes with Atsumu once again.

Atsumu swears that he feels a few beads of sweat drip down his neck.

Merlin’s Beard, why is he letting this fat dishrag of an owl intimidate him so much?

Maybe it’s because you’re observing the scene with an amused smile painted on your pretty lips, clearly entertained by the odd tension between your owl and your… sort-of-not-really-almost-lover-who-used-to-be-your-sort-of-enemy?

Then Kou strikes.

His sharp beak snaps up a treat from Atsumu’s palm in the blink of an eye.

Atsumu’s mouth falls open in shock as Kou devours the rest of the pellets in his hand with vigor. He winces out of habit when Kou’s beak draws a little too close to his skin a few times, but the bird doesn’t make any move to hurt him. Wide-eyed, Atsumu’s gaze trails to you, wanting to gauge your reaction, and you’re still smiling, except now with slight pride in your expression.

“Congratulations,” you muse. “Kou doesn’t hate you very much anymore.” As if to enunciate your statement, Kou settles back onto your shoulder calmly (after having finished the pellets Atsumu had offered) and gives Atsumu a reluctant nod of his large, feathery head.

“Good.” Atsumu lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, relief and satisfaction washing over him like a tidal wave. He knows it was silly to want approval from your owl, but he can’t help but feel elated that he received it.

“Kou’ll remember the deal you made with him, so you better not make me cry.” You laugh quietly and Atsumu finally lets a smile slip onto his face.

“I won’t,” he says softly, and you make a non-committal noise, telling him that he needs to show you, not just tell you. You place Kou back into his cage, but not before pressing a kiss to the top of his feathered head. Once again, Atsumu feels a white, hot burst of jealousy shoot through his system, and he resists the urge to scowl at Kou, who still seems to be taunting him with a smug, owl-ish smirk.

“It’s almost time for curfew, let’s get back to the dorms before Filch or Mrs. Norris have to say anything about us.” You cast a anxious glance at the clock on the wall of the Owlery.

“Whatcha always so worried for, (L/N)?” Atsumu chuckles a bit at the incredibly concerned expression on your face as you hurry out of the Owlery, with him hot on your heels. “Haven’t ya ever been out of the dormitories after curfew?”

“No.” You frown. “What reason would I have to be?”

“Yer so borin’.”

“Am not.” You purse your lips. “What’s there to do at this time of night, anyway? It’s so dark…”

“Yer scared of the dark?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yer scaaaared.” A wide grin spreads across Atsumu’s face as your cheeks flush.

“I wish Kou clawed all your stupid piss-colored hair out,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aww, princess, that’s so mean.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Will do.” Atsumu’s still smiling ear-to-ear, because damn; having a bantering conversation with you like this is always so… natural? Perhaps it’s because it was pretty much the only way he communicated with you over the past seven years, but it’s enjoyable nonetheless. And he can tell you’re amused by the interaction as well by the upward quirk of your lips.

“So what, isn’t it normal to be scared of the dark?” You bite your lip nervously upon realizing how dark and lonely the corridors are right now, and you take out your wand. “Lumos.” The tip of your wand lights up with a warm, white glow, acting as a flashlight.

“Sounds to me like yer just a coward.” Atsumu yawns. “’Samu, RinRin, and I sneak out all the time, anyway.”

“To do what, exactly?”

“Sometimes we go down to the Quidditch pitch and throw a Quaffle around. If there’s a big game comin’ up, we might practice with some Bludgers too.”

“And you never get caught?”

“Didn’t say that.” He grins. “I’ve spent way too much time in detention for playin’ Quidditch after curfew.”

“Dummy. Why take the risk?”

“’Cause I love Quidditch.” That’s such an Atsumu answer; straight and to-the-point. “Plus, I don’t have to worry too much about the consequences, anyway. As much as I piss off old Snape, he would never let me miss a game ‘cause he knows how good I am.”

“That’s all you do, though? Play Quidditch? I was expecting something a little more exciting,” you tease, and instead of getting offended, Atsumu’s eyes glitter.

“Ever been to the Forbidden Forest?”

“It’s forbidden for a reason, Miya,” you say pointedly.

“Shame. Lots of things to see in there. All the interestin’ creatures come out at night.”

“Won’t they harm you?”

“Nah.” He smirks. “Lemme show ya somethin’.” One moment, he’s there, standing in the shadows of the corridor right next you. The next split second, he’s gone.

You blink in confusion; where the hell did he go? He was right there! He can’t Apparate on Hogwarts grounds, so there’s no way he could’ve just disappeared into thin air —

A low growl echoes through the corridor, coming from by your knees. You jump, quickly darting your gaze downwards. You hold back a scream upon seeing a large, black fox with dark brown eyes staring up at you expectantly.

“M-Miya?” you stammer. “You’re an Animagus?” The fox (or, well, Atsumu) simply purrs, rubbing his velvety nose against your thigh. Then, with another blink of an eye, Atsumu’s standing in front of you again, a smug smile forming on his face at the shocked, but impressed look on your face.

“’Samu, RinRin, and I — we’re all Animagi,” he tells you, swelling with pride as you seem quite impressed. Becoming an Animagus is no matter of simple magic. “Creatures in there are less likely to attack us in those forms than if we walked in there lookin’ like humans.”

“What have you seen in there?” Now you’re curious.

“Oh, lots of things. Giant spiders. Centaurs. Unicorns.”

“Unicorns?” You grip the wand in your hand a little tighter.

“Yeah, unicorns. I’ll take you to see them sometime.” He tilts his head. “That is, if yer not scared of the dark, princess.”

“I’m not,” you insist, but you don’t put out the light still emanating from the tip of your wand.

“Righttttt.” Atsumu definitely doesn’t believe you. The two of you stop at the end of the corridor, where you’re supposed to go your separate ways to your dormitories. “Ya still plannin’ on goin’ to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?”

“Of course. I need to ask Madam Rosmerta if I could buy a bottle of mead to send home to my parents, anyway. They enjoy their alcohol.” You smile up at Atsumu. “Can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but I like spending time with you, Miya.”

“Y-Ya do?” Before he can stop himself, he feels his entire face light up with a huge grin. And when you laugh, such a clear, sweet and genuine sound, Atsumu’s chest constricts painfully with fondness and his chocolate eyes become even more half-lidded as he stares at you with all of the affection he can muster up from throughout his entire being.

“I do.” You end up unintentionally leaving Atsumu in a state of dazedness as you turn in the other direction, throwing a “Goodnight!” over your shoulder before you saunter down the corridor.

Atsumu doesn’t know how long he stands there like a complete, blithering idiot, staring at the corner at which you disappeared around what felt like an eternity ago. But then Mrs. Norris comes meowing towards him, and he curses loudly before sprinting in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room.

That night, Atsumu lays awake in bed, eyes on the ceiling, mind mulling over the events that had happened during the day. He had returned to the Slytherin dungeons with a huge, embarrassing grin on his face after successfully evading Mrs. Norris, as all he could think about was the time he spent with you. Several of his housemates began to press him about his sudden good mood, but he had decided not to humor them, uninterested in allowing others to butt into his personal affairs.

He is going on a date with you tomorrow.

He can hardly believe the reality of the situation. If only his eleven-year old self, so foolishly trying to simultaneously impress and irritate you by poking fun at you every chance he got, could see him now. Atsumu almost groans out-loud at the mere thought of his stupidity throughout the past seven years. If he had treated you like a normal human being and shown genuine interest in you, perhaps this would have turned out in his favor much faster.

Then again, there is the case of Osamu Miya.

Osamu, his dumbass of a twin (who is just as much of a shithead as he is, contrary to popular belief), had been in love with Rintarou Suna, their childhood friend, for years. Osamu and Rintarou had always been closer than Atsumu was to Rintarou, but he didn’t mind, especially when they got older and Atsumu got to watch Osamu become increasingly awkward around Rintarou thanks to his crush. And despite spending every waking moment together, what with living next door to each other, attending the same school, being in the same House, hell, even living in the same damn dormitory, it looked like Osamu was never going to act on the feelings he harbored for more than half of his lifespan.

When Rintarou walked into the Slytherin common room holding hands with his brother, Atsumu had initially been in shock. He thought that Osamu would never do anything about his undying love for Rintarou. And as much as he envied Osamu for making moves and going so far so fast (he did not miss the hickies on their necks; how long would it be until he could do that to you without you hexing him into an untimely death?) Atsumu is happy for his brother.

If he had become your friend, would he have stayed so? Just your friend? Would being friend-zoned be better or worse than being seen as an enemy, though? He supposes he’ll never know.

“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Kenji Futakuchi, one of Atsumu’s roommates, chortles from his four-poster bed, which is positioned on the right of Atsumu’s.

“Nothin’,” Atsumu replies lazily. “Go to sleep or somethin’.” He hears Futakuchi snort. Futakuchi had tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team, expecting a spot since he played Chaser last year, and was mildly offended when Atsumu opted to take on Tsutomu Goshiki, a new recruit, over him. What could Atsumu do, though; Goshiki had out-flown Futakuchi by miles at the trials and is overall much less temperamental than Futakuchi.

His former Seeker and Captain, Tooru Oikawa, had (rightfully) put Atsumu in his place multiple times. Having played with Oikawa as his Captain for two years straight in his fifth and sixth years, Atsumu learned over time to control his urge to aggravate and provoke his teammates and opponents due to constant scolding from Oikawa. Thanks to his admiration of Oikawa, Atsumu decided that he wanted to lead a team that was willing to work well together, not just choosing the best fliers. Seeing as Futakuchi is very provocative, always starting conflicts with a silver tongue and cocky attitude (admittedly, not too unlike Atsumu himself), Atsumu was delighted to have found an alternative in Goshiki.

And thus, Futakuchi has been extra passive-aggressive to Atsumu lately.

“You’re not exactly making it easy for any of us to sleep,” Futakuchi sing-songs.

“What do ya mean? Just close yer eyes and fall asleep, idiot.”

“He can’t when ya keep tossin’ and turnin’ and gigglin’ to yerself,” Osamu grumbles from Atsumu’s left side. “No one can.” There’s an annoyed sigh of agreement from Rintarou, whose bed is next to Osamu’s. Then comes a muffled ‘Get me out of here’ from Kiyoomi Sakusa, one of Slytherin’s Chasers, from across the room, where his bed completes the circle of five.

“The hell happened to you today, man?” Futakuchi laughs. “Thought you’d be more upset after losing to Gryffindor today, but at dinner you were looking all happy and lovestruck.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu mumbles, clearly annoyed.

“Come onnnn,” the brunette Futakuchi presses. “Is it about that pretty girl (L/N)?” At this, Atsumu sits up in bed and glares at Futakuchi, who’s casually lounging with his body turned towards Atsumu, head propped up on his hand. “Thought as much after that day in Snape’s class.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu repeats rather crossly. “None of yer business."

“Why so uptight, Captain? Are you trying that hard to get laid or something?” Futakuchi teases, waggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck you, yer lucky I’m in a good mood or I’ll — “

“So you were trying to get laid?”

“What the hell, you know that's not what I'm after — “

“Oh, of course, since it's your lovely lady (L/N).” Futakuchi grins widely upon seeing how irritated Atsumu is getting.

“Yer a damn prick, ya know that?” Atsumu grits out.

“Speak for yourself.” And as much as Atsumu wants to argue back, Futakuchi is right. Atsumu has to admit that he, himself, is kinda a damn prick.

“Another word from any of you and I’ll zip your mouths closed,” Sakusa threatens lowly from across the room. He sends a few red sparks up from the tip of his wand towards the ceiling as a warning.

"Yeah, so shut the fuck up Atsu — " Futakuchi pauses as he turns back in Atsumu's direction only to see him fast asleep. The bastard had somehow fallen asleep in a split second, leaving all of his roommates annoyed at his loud snoring.

Seven years ago, on September 1st, Atsumu had been running late.

Osamu is already at the front door, hair combed, dressed in proper clothes, and his trunk packed, while Atsumu is still clambering around the bedroom trying to get everything together. His unkempt hair (black, at the time; he hadn’t gone blonde until his third year when he and Osamu had gotten fed up of being mixed up all the time) keeps falling into his eyes, but he can’t care less about that upon hearing his mother shout at him to hurry just as he’s tugging on his left sock.

“I’m comin’!” Atsumu yells down the stairs. Finny, one of his house elves, walks over with a comb in her hands, but Atsumu shakes his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Finny. Mum’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t get down there within the next minute.”

“Young Master, Finny will miss you while you’re gone.” The sweet old house elf follows Atsumu down the stairs as he struggles to shove his large trunk down the stairs.

“I’ll miss — ugh — you too,” Atsumu grunts as he pushes the trunk another step.

“Hurry up, Atsumu!” his mother calls again, anger rising in her tone.

“I said I’m comin’!” Atsumu shouts.

“Young Master, Tooky will help you with your trunk!” The Miya’s second house elf appears at the bottom of the stairs, and with a snap of his fingers, he lifts Atsumu’s trunk off the ground and allows it to float all the way to the front door where Mr. and Mrs. Miya are waiting with Osamu.

“Thanks, Tooky. Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief before hurrying down the stairs to join the rest of his family.

“Lame,” Osamu says.

“Shut yer trap, ‘Samu,” Atsumu scoffs.

“What’s yer excuse for wakin’ up so late?” Mrs. Miya asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

“’Samu didn’t wake me up even though ya told him to last night!” Atsumu whines.

“’Cause ya sleep like a rock! I shook ya a million times and ya didn’t even stir,” Osamu defends himself.

“It’s yer fault that we’re gonna be late!”

“Whadda ya mean? I woke up on time!”

“Boys,” Mrs. Miya warns.

“Aww, Mum! Ground ‘Samu or somethin’!”

“Shut up, ‘Tsumu.”

“Please, boys, don’t give yer mother a headache. It’s too early for this,” Mr. Miya begs, opening the front door and moving towards their car. They would be driving to King’s Cross because Mrs. Miya believes that the boys are too young for Side-Along Apparition over such a long distance. Mr. Miya doesn’t really enjoy driving; he had gotten his drivers’ license from the Ministry and well — wizards don’t exactly drive very often, so who were they to be judges of driving skill?

“Wish we could Apparate,” Atsumu grumbles as Mr. Miya begins loading the car with his and Osamu’s belongings. “Then it would just be SNAP! and we’re there.”

“Don’t wanna risk Apparating so far at yer age. Ya might get Splinched,” Mrs. Miya reminds her son.

“Mum’s already told ya that a million times, too,” Osamu points out, which causes Atsumu to sneer at him.

After a twenty minute drive filled with Atsumu and Osamu’s constant bickering, a very annoyed Mrs. Miya and a very tired Mr. Miya (Merlin’s Beard he really does hate driving that Muggle car), the Miyas pull up at Kings Cross Station.

“I’ll grab the trolleys,” Mr. Miya says, quickly taking the opportunity to take a break from hearing his wife shout at their two rowdy sons.

“Ya ate the Chocolate Frog I left on the kitchen counter last night!” Atsumu howls.

“Too bad! Finders, keepers!” Osamu sticks his tongue out.

“Loser! I hope ya got a horrible card!”

“I got Dumbledore, this is my third one.”

“No fair! I don’t have one of Dumbledore yet!”

“Sucks ta be ya, I’m keepin’ him.”

“Moooom! ‘Samu’s being mean!”

“Quiet, you two.” The twins immediately shut their mouths upon seeing their mother’s famous death glare.

Upon entering Platform 9 ¾,the twins immediately spot Rintarou Suna, their childhood friend, and rush over. The Miyas had initially planned on carpooling with Sunas since they live so close to each other, but since Atsumu had woken up so late, Mrs. Miya had to cancel those plans.

“Hey, Rin, look what I got.” Osamu shows Rintarou his Albus Dumbledore Chocolate Frog card, which Rintarou nods appreciatively at.

“Cool. Always wanted one of him.”

“You can have him,” Osamu says immediately, practically shoving the card into Rintarou’s hands. Rintarou blinks, surprised at how quickly Osamu offered to hand it to him (the twins aren’t the best at sharing their things) but accepts it.

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” Rintarou smiles, and Osamu unconsciously puffs out his chest with pride. Atsumu scowls with all his might, because dammit! That was supposed to be his Chocolate Frog card! Stupid ‘Samu!

“Kids, go find yourselves a compartment on the train, it’ll be leaving in a few minutes.” Mrs. Suna ushers the three children, all of whom are pushing their own luggage cart, towards the entrance of the train. On the way, Inari’s empty cage falls off the top of Atsumu’s cart, with a loud CLANG! and Atsumu thanks the Gods that his Dad had already sent her out to fly to Hogwarts because she absolutely hates riding in the car.

“Hurry, hurry!” Mrs. Miya quickly places the cage back onto Atsumu’s trolley.

“We’ll see you during the holidays, Rintarou, dear!” Mrs. Suna calls to her son, who’s the first one into the train out of the three boys.

“Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad.” Rintarou waves to his parents briefly before pushing his trolley deeper into the train.

“Have a fun time at school, boys! Don’t forget to write!” Mrs. Miya calls to her sons.

“Yes, Mum,” Atsumu and Osamu chorus.

“Don’t cause too much trouble,” Mr. Miya warns.

“Yes, Dad,” Atsumu and Osamu say with matching, innocent, Cheshire smiles. Their dad sighs, shaking his head.

“Do your best at school, boys.” The twins mock-salute to their parents before following after Rintarou.

“Which compartment do ya want, Rin?” Osamu asks Rintarou, who’s peering around curiously at the rows and rows of sliding glass doors, navigating skillfully through the crowds of students streaming down the hallways.

“Hm. This one, I guess.” Rintarou slides open an empty compartment before pushing his trolley inside. The twins follow suit, closing the door behind them.

The trio is just getting settled in their seats after putting their trunks in the luggage racks when the door opens once again.

A girl pokes her head in.

Not just a girl. A pretty girl. Long, (H/C) hair flows down her shoulders, framing a gentle, soft face with delicate features. She smiles, her pink lips curving upwards and her (E/C) eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, as she sweeps her gaze upon the three boys in the compartment.

“Excuse me,” she says, her tone polite. “May I sit here?”

“No,” Atsumu snaps before anyone else can utter a word. “It’s full in here. If ya come in it’ll be too crowded.” A lie. There’s plenty of room for two or maybe even three more people, and this girl is so small that she might as well count as half of one. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want anyone else in this compartment; he, Osamu, and Rintarou had claimed it for themselves first. Doesn’t matter if the girl is cute. Finders, keepers.

Then, the girl does something entirely unexpected.

Her pretty face crumples into a scowl, and she aggressively shoves open the compartment door, pushing her trolley right into the room.

“Hey! Whadda ya think yer doin’?!” Atsumu exclaims.

“I don’t care, I’m sitting here anyway,” she responds with a huff, thrusting her trunk under her seat and placing her owl cage next to her feet before putting her trolley in the corner where the boys left theirs.

Atsumu stares at her in shock. Usually, girls do whatever he tells them to do. All of the ones at school always did. If he told them to go away, they’d leave immediately with a giggle and a wave; the shyer ones would simply cry. Based on this girl’s delicate appearance, he thought she’d be a crier. But no, she’s now striking up a friendly conversation with Osamu and Rintarou, completely ignoring his presence.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N), it’s nice to meet you both, Osamu and Rintarou.” The girl is smiling beautifully once again, and much to his chagrin, Atsumu feels his heart physically skip a beat. His cheeks redden and he immediately gets up from his seat, moving towards (Y/N) with his thick eyebrows drawn together in frustration.

I’m Atsumu Miya!” he practically screams.

Atsumu Miya, has anyone ever told you that your breath stinks?” the girl asks ever-so-sweetly, grimacing slightly and waving a small hand in front of her nose. Osamu and Rintarou roar with laughter when Atsumu draws back with an offended look on his face, and the volume of their teasing only grows when the train suddenly starts, lurching Atsumu backwards onto his seat.

As Atsumu almost slams his head on cushion behind him, he can register his face burning up even more. He quickly sits up in his seat and glares, hard, at the girl, who is now sitting quietly with a book in her hands. The cover tells Atsumu that it’s Hogwarts: A History.

“Why are ya readin’ somethin’ so borin’? Are ya some kinda nerd?” he sneers condescendingly. (Y/N) doesn’t look up from her book.

"No, I just find this book very interesting,” she replies without a hint of agitation. She calmly turns a page. “I’m Muggleborn, so I don’t know a thing about Hogwarts.”

“Well, I can tell ya everythin’ ya need to know! I’m kinda an expert.” Atsumu proudly puffs out his chest, and she finally glances up at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Rintarou and Osamu are snickering at Atsumu, knowing full-well that he’s about to make a big fool out of himself.

Really? Can you tell me the names of the four founders of Hogwarts?”

“Easyyy. Gregory Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rosie Ravenclaw, and Helen Hufflepuff!” Atsumu immediately regrets opening his mouth when Rintarou and Osamu burst into rambunctious laughter once again.

" No. The only one you got right is Slytherin. It’s Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff.” (Y/N) is respectable enough to hold back her laughter as she explains this to Atsumu, only allowing a smile to stretch wide on her lips, but Rintarou and Osamu are practically in tears.

" Rosie!” Osamu wheezes.

“I think reading a few chapters of that book would do you good,” Rintarou comments through his laughter.

"Yer all losers.” Atsumu glowers.

"Gregory! Helen!”

“Shut yer trap, ‘Samu!”

Atsumu continues to pick little fights with the girl, (Y/N), on the day-long trip to Hogwarts. Every few minutes, he would say something in an attempt to provoke her, whether it was joking that there’s a spider in her hair (it only worked once but he continued to try it because he thought her reaction was hilarious) or telling her that she reminds him of this ugly troll that his Auror father had banished from an abandoned house a few weeks earlier. Despite his relentless prodding, (Y/N) remains largely unaffected, still engrossed in book after book despite Atsumu teasing her for being a ‘nerd’.

“I can see yer goal is to get into Ravenclaw with the rest of the nerds,” he had commented at some point in the ride.

“Maybe Ravenclaw would be a good fit for me, but it’s up to the Sorting Hat to decide,” she had responded amiably. “I wouldn’t mind being in any house.”

“Slytherin’s the best,” Atsumu had told her. “My entire family has been Slytherins for lots and lots of generations.”

“Really? That’s pretty neat.” Her remark had thrown him off-guard. He wanted to be proud that she had called something he said ‘neat’, but at the same time, he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he likes her praise.

“W-Well! Ya better not be in Slytherin. Yer lame self would ruin the coolness of our house if you were in it,” he had scoffed.

“I’m not sure I’d want to be in the same house as you, anyway,” she replied without missing a beat, earning a chorus of ‘ooo’s from Osamu and Rintarou.

By the end of the train ride, Atsumu’s a complete mess. His cheeks are still stained bright red, as they had been for the entire journey. All he wanted was to talk to her more and more, keep provoking and provoking her, and receive her cold responses over and over. She is just so… interesting.

The train comes to a complete stop and the announcements state that students can now start leaving their compartments. (Y/N) closes her book and drags out her trunk from under her seat and puts it away. Of course, someone would come to collect the luggage and bring it all up to the dormitories later. (Y/N) gets to her feet and waves to the three boys.

“Maybe I’ll see you all around.” The girl gently taps the bars of her owl cage, which Atsumu notices for the first time holds a baby great-horned owl. “Bye, Kou.” The owl twitters happily upon receiving her goodbye. As (Y/N) walks out of the compartment, Atsumu looks back at her owl, and the baby bird’s large, yellow eyes are practically staring into his soul. It snaps its beak in Atsumu’s direction. Atsumu flinches.

“C’mon, ‘Tsumu, stop being so slow.” Osamu and Rintarou are already at the compartment’s entrance.

"Listen,” Atsumu says hurriedly, getting to his feet and rushing towards his brother and his friend. “That girl — (L/N) (Y/N) — I better not see you two losers makin’ a move on her or somethin’.”

“What the hell,” Osamu scoffs impatiently. “’Tsumu, ya know I’m — “ The twins share a silent look with each other.

“Not interested,” Rintarou adds lazily.

“Good.” Atsumu nods, satisfied.

“What? Ya think yer ever gonna have a chance with her after ya showed her that yer the world’s biggest dumbass?” Osamu snorts. Atsumu glares.

“Shut it, ‘Samu.”

The first years board the boats to row to the castle, and Atsumu gets stuck with his brother, Rintarou and two other first-year boys who he discovers are named Kiyoomi Sakusa and Kourai Hoshiumi. Kiyoomi is a curly-haired boy who doesn’t speak a word after introducing himself, while Kourai is a complete chatterbox that doesn’t stop talking for the entire ride up to Hogwarts.

“I can’t wait to see what house I’ll be Sorted into!” Kourai cheers. “Will it be Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff? Or maybe Slytherin?”

“ Definitely not Ravenclaw,” Atsumu tells him rather rudely, which earns a hard noogie from Osamu.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” Osamu mumbles, but Kourai doesn’t seem to care, continuing to blab their ears off. Kiyoomi looks like he wants to hurl himself from the rowboat and into the water.

Another boat passes by, and Atsumu perks up as he immediately recognizes the laughter of (Y/N), the girl he had met on the train. He turns around so fast that he almost gets whiplash and ends up violently rocking the boat (which causes his boatmates to shout at him, but he doesn’t care). (Y/N)’s in a boat with two other girls and a boy with sandy, unevenly-cut hair. Atsumu resists the urge to snort; what an ugly haircut.

(Y/N) laughs at something the sandy-haired jerk says, causing Atsumu to scowl.

The rest of the night flies by in the blink of an eye.

As expected, Atsumu is Sorted into Slytherin along with his brother and Rintarou. Kiyoomi had joined them at the table as well, while Kourai goes to Gryffindor. (Y/N) is put in Ravenclaw, and she smiles so brightly that Atsumu had to stop himself from smiling as well, instead opting to stick his tongue out at her as she walked past the Slytherin table towards the Ravenclaw one. She returns the favor.

Thus began the seven-year long complications between Atsumu Miya and (Y/N) (L/N).

In his first year, Atsumu shared a flying class with (Y/N).

He’s a natural flier, since he’s been playing Quidditch since he was very young. He and his brother were the only first years to ever be invited onto the Slytherin Quidditch team in the history of Hogwarts, and as Beaters, no less. Beater positions are usually supposed to be filled with large, muscular, older students, and he and Osamu, despite having above average heights and builds for their age, had still been undeniably scrawny compared to the other teams. However, the twins quickly showed their amazing abilities and easily built their reputation as some of the most skilled Quidditch players on campus.

(Y/N), on the other hand, is not. Her broom had reacted very quickly upon saying ‘Up!’, as she is undoubtedly a talented witch. A few days into flying lessons, after everyone had successfully gotten their brooms into their hands (Atsumu found this all so boring; brooms had been at his command since he was two or three!), the first years are now working on kicking off the ground. (Y/N) is one of the students who are absolutely terrified of getting into the air. She had obviously never ridden a broom before due to her family background, but Atsumu couldn’t help but laugh and tease her for her fear.

“C’mon, (L/N)! Whatcha so scared for? Ya scared yer gonna fall outta the sky?” Atsumu calls down from above. He watches as she frowns, glowering up at him. Before she can retort, however, another voice cuts in,

“Yeah, you stupid Mudblood! What’s the big deal?” Atsumu whips his head around, a murderous scowl crossing his features. It’s Leonard Crabbe, a blood supremacist loser. Atsumu sees red.

“I’m gonna bash yer skull in, Crabbe!” Atsumu bellows, but before he can move, Osamu holds him back with a strong tug on the back of his robes.

“Madam Hooch is watchin’, ya idiot!” Osamu hisses loudly. Atsumu wrenches away from Osamu, slowly maneuvering his broom towards Crabbe in a menacing manner.

“Meet me behind the library after class today and then let’s see who yer still gonna dare to call a Mudblood,” Atsumu sneers before leaving a very terrified Crabbe floating fearfully a few feet above the ground.

(Y/N) didn’t see or hear all the commotion, however, as all of her friends had crowded around her and formed a protective barrier upon hearing someone use such a hateful term to address her. So of course, she never saw the way Atsumu peered worriedly her direction before turning away with a huff and a blush on his face.

In his second year, Atsumu found (Y/N) crying in the library after she had received bad marks on her Defense Against the Dark Arts exam.

He had needed to borrow an extra copy of his Charms textbook because he had left his somewhere in the castle, so he reluctantly made his way over to the library after classes ended for the day.

As soon as Atsumu enters the library, he’s met with Madam Pince’s suspicious stare; she’s well-aware of his reputation for trouble and would definitely be keeping an eye on him. There’s no need to, anyway, Atsumu isn’t here to cause trouble. He just needs an extra Charms textbook. Atsumu’s sauntering towards the Textbooks section when he suddenly bumps into someone.

“Watch where yer goin’,” he snaps, not even looking at the person he bumped into, but then he hears a sniff. Frowning, he looks down to see (Y/N), her eyes rimmed-red and brimming with tears.

"No,” she spits venomously. “You watch where you’re going, Miya.” Even when she’s crying, she manages to stand up to him. A considerable feat, really.

“Why are ya cryin’, (L/N)?” Atsumu asks as she tries to brush past him. “Hey.” He stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not crying!” (Y/N) says, slapping his hand away from her. Atsumu snorts.

“And I’m not blind.” He spies a crumpled piece of paper clenched in her hand. Before she can react, he’s already snatched it out of her grip.

“Give it back, Miya!” (Y/N)’s fuming now, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk hoarding nuts. Atsumu smiles, holding the paper high above his head.

“Nah.” He then smooths out the paper, still keeping the paper safely out of (Y/N)’s reach, and his eyes widen upon seeing the mark on a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. P. Poor. A failing grade.

“Stop looking at it!” More tears spill down (Y/N)’s face. “It’s embarrassing, I get it!”

“…This is what yer cryin’ over?” Atsumu chortles. “C’mon, ya dumb troll. It’s one grade.” Apparently right now is not the best time to call her a ‘dumb troll’, because she starts sniffling again, and Atsumu quickly backtracks. “Nah, (L/N), don’t worry so much. It doesn’t make a difference. Yer still smart or whatever.” He allows (Y/N) to take the exam paper back, and she angrily shoves the paper into the pocket of her robes.

"I t’s the first time I’ve ever gotten a mark like it,” she says quietly.

“Like I said, it’s one grade. Loosen up.” Atsumu himself had personally gotten D for Dreadful on that exam, but he didn’t even care enough to share that bit of information with her. “You’ll do better next time. Ya better stop cryin’. Ya look like a loser.” With that, Atsumu grabs his needed Charms textbook off the shelf and walks away, leaving a very confused (but no longer crying) (Y/N) behind.

In his third year, he had come close (but not close enough) to confessing to (Y/N).

He and Osamu had arrived at Hogwarts with freshly-dyed hair, his blonde, and Osamu’s gray. Immediately, the twins’ new appearances caught the attention of many students at Hogwarts, as it is now much easier to tell the two apart. Nothing bothered the twins more than people getting them mixed up; are these people blind or something? Can’t they ever tell that the twins have different parts?

Hogwarts students have the chance to select Care of Magical Creatures as a course in their third years, and Atsumu had opted to take the class along with Osamu and Rintarou. He had always been quite fascinated with magical creatures (this interest, of course, came second to Quidditch) so upon receiving the opportunity, Atsumu had immediately made room on his timetable for it.

And low and behold, he knew there were good reasons why he chose this class. (Y/N)’s in his Care of Magical Creatures class, perfect. A chance to show off to her the knowledge he (actually, this time) has. Professor Grubbly-Plank’s classes are boring, however, as they only work with flobberworms for a good quarter of the year. At least Atsumu had gotten to stick one down Osamu’s shirt and make him scream like a little girl (let’s not talk about the time Osamu put a worm in Atsumu’s pants as revenge).

Then arrives the opportunity that Atsumu’s been waiting for. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, is invited to be a guest teacher for one session and brought in a hippogriff for the Care of Magical Creatures class to observe. When asked if anyone wants to have a go at earning the hippogriff’s respect, Atsumu had eagerly stepped up. He easily tames the hippogriff, and basks in the awed looks of his classmates (including (Y/N)!) at the ease with which he completed the task. But before Atsumu can feed his own ego with the impressed expression on (Y/N)’s face, it all ends in a split second.

A guffawing dumbass with a name Atsumu cannot recall (but he gave a black eye to after the incident) sneaks up behind the hippogriff and plucks out one of its tail hairs. With a mighty screech, the hippogriff rises onto its hind legs, waving its talons wildly, and ends up knocking over one of the nearby trees. Students scream and scramble back away from the scene, but one of the large branches snaps and knocks (Y/N) over.

“Woah, woah there, Stormtail!” Hagrid tries to calm down the hippogriff while everyone in the class crowds around (Y/N), worried for her wellbeing. Atsumu himself rushes over to her side in an instant, and she’s laying there, wide-eyed, with her arm twisted in an awkward, unpleasant angle.

“I-I’m okay,” (Y/N) stammers out, clearly holding back tears with the way she bites her lip.

“Out of the way!” Atsumu hollers as he pushes aside a few disgruntled students to reach her, panic written all over his face.

“Ah, yeh big brute, stop movin’ — “ Hagrid throws some raw meat at the hippogriff to calm it down. “Miya! Take (L/N) to the hospital wing!” Atsumu doesn’t need to be told twice. He immediately scoops (Y/N) into his arms (thanks to his Quidditch training, he is finally starting to build up some muscle, so it’s an effortless endeavor), and rushes towards the hospital wing.

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill that kid,” he mutters under his breath to no one in particular. (Y/N) doesn’t say anything, her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pressed together as if trying not to scream in pain. Even for wizards and witches, broken bones hurt just as much. “Hang in there, (L/N). We’re almost there.”

Madam Pomfrey blanches immediately at the sight of (Y/N)’s broken arm as Atsumu sprints in with her in his arms. “Put her down! Quick!” she orders, and Atsumu obeys, placing (Y/N)’s body on the nearest hospital bed.

Atsumu is preparing to leave when he hears her say in a small voice, “Miya…” He pauses, turning around.

“What?”

“Thanks.” (Y/N) offers him a tiny, genuine smile. Not mocking or sarcastic or ironic. Very unlike the smiles she’s given him so far. Atsumu’s cheeks color.

“(L/N)…” In the background, Madam Pomfrey is bustling around the hospital wing, gathering materials for mending (Y/N)’s arm. But Atsumu can only hear the sound of his heart beating, the erratic rhythm of his own breaths — “I li — get well soon.” A look of confusion crosses (Y/N)’s face, but she nor Atsumu have time to dwell on his words before Madam Pomfrey ushers Atsumu out of the hospital wing, telling him that (Y/N) needs to rest.

The next time Atsumu sees (Y/N), he tells her that she looks like the ugliest goblin at Gringotts.

In his fourth year, he started indulging in girls’ attraction to him.

He’s now fourteen, tall and muscular for his age thanks to hours and hours of Quidditch. He’s no longer the tiny, scrawny boy that many had looked down at upon hearing that he’ll be one of Slytherin’s Beaters.

It’s also been four years since he’s met (Y/N), the girl he’s been longing after for the entire period, and he has made little to no progress with her because he always manages to take three large steps back after a single baby step forward.

He is growing impatient, now. (Y/N)’s still not remotely interested in him, while many other girls are. They’re always hanging around him, batting their eyelashes and giggling shrilly at everything he says. Atsumu couldn’t help but let this all inflate his already-large ego ten-fold. Who could blame them, though? He knows he’s eye candy. He knows he’s attractive. And maybe this would help him forget about (Y/N).

He starts taking girls into Hogsmeade. Not just one at a time. There’s a whole gaggle of them, following him to Honeydukes and Zonko’s, buying him whatever he pleases with their own money. They hang onto his every word and treasure every bit of his attention.

And for a while, he thinks it’s working. There are girls everywhere, following him from class to class, attending all his Quidditch practices and games to cheer him on, tripping over themselves to rush to Hogsmeade and spend time trailing him like lost puppy dogs. Atsumu finds this all very, very amusing. So amusing, that he almost thinks that he’s forgotten all about (Y/N).

Until one snowy Saturday, he’s surrounded by his usual group of girls, giggling and squealing over being able to spend time with the one and only Atsumu Miya, when he hears (Y/N)’s familiar, sweet laugh. He freezes, and not from the cold.

She’s standing by Honeydukes with a package of chocolates in her gloved hands, her face tinted gorgeously pink from the cold. She’s bundled up in a warm winter coat and her Ravenclaw scarf, and is accompanied by a few of her friends. (Y/N) doesn’t even look at him, not even once, and she’s not doing anything special or remarkable in just standing there and talking, but he can’t tear his eyes away.

It’s in that moment that Atsumu knew in his heart that he’s never getting ‘over’ her.

Ignoring the cries of his fan club, Atsumu returns to Hogwarts early that day.

In his fifth year, Atsumu tried to ask (Y/N) to the Yule Ball.

It is Hogwart’s turn to host the Triwizard Tournament, which is only held once every five years. Only students aged seventeen or older could compete, and Atsumu had sulked about that fact for days, as he is only fifteen. He had sulked even deeper when he heard that one of the traditional activities for the Triwizard Tournament is the Yule Ball, in which students attend a formal dance. He knows that he’ll have to fend off girls that will try to somehow coerce him into going with them.

And sure enough, on the first day after the Yule Ball was announced, Atsumu had already rejected around twenty girls that had decided to shoot their shot. When Atsumu informed Osamu of his woes (Osamu had received lots of invitations as well, but he had managed to shut them all down by lying that he already had a date, something that Atsumu hadn’t thought to do), Osamu had simply laughed.

“Nah, yer lyin’. Who would wanna go to the ball with ya? Yer ugly.”

“Shut up, ‘Samu, we have the same fuckin’ face.”

Atsumu is honestly considering not going to the Ball at all; he thinks it sounds perpetually boring. He doesn’t know how to nor does he want to learn how to dance. The only thing interesting about this whole Triwizard Tournament thing is competing — which he obviously isn’t allowed to do.

Then he receives a rude awakening in the middle of Quidditch practice. Literally. A Bludger clobbers him in the head and suddenly, he can think clearly. Even as his teammates shout at him, the only thought on Atsumu’s mind is of is how he’s going to ask (Y/N) to the Yule Ball.

He goes to the library right after practice, where (Y/N)’s bound to be, and to his shock, he finds Durmstrang’s Champion, Omar Snowbell, sitting across from her, watching her study. (Y/N) doesn’t seem all that comfortable with a big, hulking dude observing her, but she makes no move to tell him to go away. And knowing her, she would tell someone to screw off if she didn’t like their presence.

“Oi, (L/N),” he calls out to her. She looks up from her textbook, and the Durmstrang guy also turns, looking at Atsumu. Now, at this point, Atsumu is no shrimp, but he’s still nothing compared to the giant that is Snowbell. Snowbell frowns, slow and unsure, as if his brain runs a meter an hour.

“Miya,” she greets plainly.

“Are ya goin’ to the Yule Ball?” Atsumu questions.

“Not planning on it,” (Y/N) replies, looking back down at her book.

“Well of course, no one’s asked ya, have they?” At Atsumu’s rather cruel comment, (Y/N) glances up again, annoyed.

“What’s your problem?” she grumbles.

“Oh, come on, just go with m — “

“(L/N), would you do me the absolute honor of going to the ball with me?” Snowbell cuts in. Atsumu snorts. What a fucking nerd. Who the hell asks girls out like that? Surely (Y/N) would think he’s a loser and say —

“Sure.” As she beams up at Snowbell, Atsumu’s jaw hits the floor. Did this big oaf just ask his girl to the ball right in front of him?

“What the hell — “ Before Atsumu can continue, Snowbell suddenly gets to his feet. He towers over Atsumu, flexing his large muscles menacingly.

“Got an issue, pretty boy?” Snowbell narrows his eyes. Atsumu isn’t scared of this barbarian who likely has the brain size of a pea. On the contrary, he’s down to rumble with him if it comes down to it. But then he spies (Y/N), peering in concern at Snowbell, and he decides it’s not worth it. He doesn’t want to make her worry.

“No. Nothing at all.” With that, Atsumu turns on his heel and strides out of the library, frustrated upon admitting yet another defeat.

Seeing (Y/N) dance at the ball in the arms of the Durmstrang Champion while he had a random groupie with him was one of the most infuriating experiences of Atsumu’s fifteen years of life so far.

On the contrary, witnessing her reject Snowbell’s advances for anything other dancing brought satisfaction to him. So Atsumu hadn’t lost her just yet.

Finally, in his sixth year came Atsumu’s most recent attempt at admitting his feelings to (Y/N).

Valentine’s Day is a holiday that he despises. He’s been sent boxes and boxes of chocolates and candies spiked with love potion over the years that he’s never hesitated to throw away (he’s really not that stupid) and he finds the whole ordeal quite meaningless. It’s just another excuse for silly girls to come too close for comfort.

For a few weeks leading up to the occasion, the street peddlers in Hogsmeade had put enchanted flowers for sale, their colored petals shining and glittering temptingly with utmost beauty and vibrancy. Every color of the rainbow of every species of flower lined their carts. Girls would stand near the carts and gush about how badly they wanted their boyfriends or hopeful love interests to buy a bouquet for them.

“Any girl would fall in love with someone that gave her such a gorgeous bouquet!” Atsumu hears one girl sigh dreamily. He stills on the spot, casting glances at Osamu and Rintarou (he has stopped going to Hogsmeade with his fan club; he finds it incredibly dull and frustrating).

“Did ya hear that?” Atsumu bristles in excitement.

“Ya can’t be serious.” Osamu rolls his eyes. “Buying a bouquet isn’t gonna make (L/N) fall for yer dumb self.”

“Fuck you,” Atsumu snaps. “I’m desperate at this point.”

“Yeah, we know,” hums Rintarou, earning a dirty look from Atsumu.

“I need to find out what kind of flowers she likes.” Atsumu now has a mission. Osamu and Rintarou sigh in exasperation, knowing that this is about to end disastrously once again.

A few weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, Atsumu is strolling up to the street peddlers, money in hand, ready to purchase a bouquet for (Y/N). After chatting a bit with one of her roommates, he found out that her favorite flowers are red roses. And thus, he picks the largest, brightest, most gorgeous set of crimson roses he can find, and hands over five Galleons in return for the enchanted flowers. These blossoms will never die, but unlike fake flowers you could find in Muggle supermarkets, they are real flowers that emit a fragrant smell and feel soft and velvety to the touch. Atsumu quickly checks the stems for thorns, and is pleased to find none. The last thing he wants is for (Y/N) to accept them and get poked by a stray thorn.

He knows (Y/N) will be in The Three Broomsticks based on the information he had gathered from her roommate, and sure enough, when he walks into the pub, she’s sitting at a table with a group of her friends. She’s happily sipping a butterbeer and conversing with Madam Rosmerta, the pub owner.

Flowers in hand, Atsumu strides up to her table. With each step, he feels himself lose more and more confidence. Would it actually work out this time? A nagging voice in his head tells him no. By the time he reaches (Y/N)’s table, his hands are shaking around the bouquet, palms slick with sweat and fingers slipping from the stems.

“Oi.” His voice comes out louder than expected, and (Y/N) and Madam Rosmerta pause their conversation to glance at him. (Y/N)’s friends also turn their attention to him. Atsumu feels heat gather in his cheeks. “Um.” He thrusts the everlasting blossoms in (Y/N)’s face. “Yer — yer favorite flowers are red roses, right?” Shocked, she blinks a few times before uttering,

“Yes…?”

“Really, now?!” Panic now taking over Atsumu’s whole being, he suddenly draws back the bouquet, tripping over his words and his own feet. “Well — good to know!” After a brief moment of awkward flailing, he rushes out of the pub, clutching the flowers to his chest for dear life.

Atsumu ends up giving the flowers to his senior, Tooru Oikawa, who proceeds to use them to (successfully) confess to his long-time crush, Hajime Iwaizumi.

At least someone ended up happy on that Valentine’s Day.

Atsumu wakes up late.

When his eyes finally peel open, his dormitory is empty. That means everyone’s already at breakfast, and —

“Fuck!”

— if he doesn’t get ready fast, he’ll be late for his date with you, too!

Atsumu continues to curse rapidly under his breath as he sprints into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He frantically shampoos his blonde hair at record pace, hands working through his locks as fast as he can. As soon as the bubbles disappear from his hair, he’s turning off the water and throwing a towel over his lower half. He uses a second towel to wring out his still-soaked hair while he brushes his teeth at lightning speed. Sprinting across the dormitory to his trunk, he retrieves the first set of casual clothing he can find — a gray hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans — and hurries back to the bathroom to throw them on.

Now he’s inspecting his appearance. His impromptu clothing choice is passable. He looks and feels clean and not like he had just woken up less than ten minutes ago. But then he remembers the way you had described his hair last night… ‘piss-colored’.

Shit. Is my hair really piss-colored?

Atsumu frowns, running a hand through his still-damp hair. He doesn’t like the fact that you compared his hair color to pee. Perhaps it’s finally time to make a change after four years of sporting the same hairstyle.

Picking up his wand, Atsumu points it at his hair, grimacing at the way its color does seem to resemble piss the more he looks at it. “Colovaria.” Instantly, his hair lightens and neutralizes to a much more pleasant shade of beach blonde. Atsumu spends a few seconds considering a few angles of his new hair and decides that it suits him much better. Maybe he’ll even his hair grow out a little; keeping it at the same length for years upon years has gotten a little boring.

With that, he grabs his wallet and stuffs it along with his wand into the pocket of his jeans. Now he’s on his merry (and slightly rushed) way down the moving staircases to the Great Hall. Students are filtering out of the large double doors already, as breakfast is over. Atsumu hopes you didn’t leave early or think that he had ditched you on purpose.

Then he runs smack-dab into Osamu.

“Hey.” Osamu does a double-take as he considers Atsumu’s new appearance. “Nice hair.”

“Yeah, I know.” Atsumu rolls his eyes. “Have ya seen (L/N)? We’re supposed to be headin’ to Hogsmeade soon — “

“The hell ya talkin’ about? We have Quidditch practice, Captain,” Osamu deadpans. Atsumu’s heart sinks into his stomach. He had completely forgotten about practice today. “We have a game in a week. Pull yerself together, for fuck’s sake.”

“Goddammit.” Atsumu groans, carding his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I’ve gotta cancel my plans, then. Damn. Do ya think she’ll be mad — “

“Relax, dumbass. Ya know (L/N) won’t get angry over dumb shit like this.” Osamu ‘tsks’. “Yer literally the Captain. Yer the one who set the practice dates, genius. So don’t ya go complainin’.”

“M'not,” Atsumu grouches. “I just didn’t think that I’d end up almost goin’ out with her today. Fuck. I screwed myself over.” Osamu simply nods with a sardonic grin and sends his brother on his way. Atsumu continues to mope as he slowly makes his way towards you. He gets a multitude of compliments on his hair, but he ignores them, dreading how he has to cancel the plans. And to think, he’d gotten so close to taking you out on a real date…

“Hey, (L/N).” You turn around upon hearing Atsumu call your name.

“Hi.” You’re smiling brightly. “I like the new hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” Atsumu hesitantly smiles back. You’re extra cute today in your casual clothing of a soft, cotton sweater paired with a pleated skirt. Atsumu’s heart aches.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the worry that mars Atsumu’s features. He clears his throat, eyebrows knitting together nervously.

“Sorry, I completely forgot I scheduled Quidditch practice for today,” he mumbles guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry, (L/N). I just — I didn’t know —“

“It’s okay.” You’re still smiling, albeit a little less enthusiastically, but kindly nonetheless. “We can go next month. There’s a visit scheduled before the holidays, anyway.” You motion to your friends, who are all observing your conversation with Atsumu like angry hawks stalking for prey. “If you need something from Honeydukes, I can ask one of them to bring it back for you.” Atsumu laughs nervously when he makes brief eye contact with Shimizu, whose skepticism and dislike shows all over her face.

“No, it’s alright.” Atsumu turns his focus back to you before mentally breathing a huge sigh of relief. Osamu was right. You’re not the type to get genuinely riled up over the slightest things. “Thank for understandin'. I’ll see ya around. I’ve gotta get to practice.” For once in his life, he is cursing the fact that he has to play Quidditch.

“Wait!” He pauses in his tracks when he hears you call out to him. You hand him a few breakfast rolls and a plate of sausages. “I know you didn’t eat breakfast this morning. You can’t practice on an empty stomach.” Atsumu never thought he’d fall in love with you all over again just by you handing him breakfast. As it turns out, he was dead wrong.

“Thanks.” His stomach is doing somersaults and flips so he’s not even sure if he’ll be able to keep the food down at this point, but you look so concerned that he quickly wolfs down the food you gave him. His efforts are rewarded by your satisfied nod.

“Good luck at practice. Maybe I’ll swing by after I study for my Astronomy exam.” With that, you send him one more breathtaking smile before leaving him to join your friends, who are still watching the pair of you, all while giggling and whispering among themselves, except for Shimizu, of course, who gives him a pointed look that screams 'I'm watching you'.

“Damn, tough luck huh, lover boy?” Futakuchi suddenly appears next to him, a smug smirk on his face. “Quidditch practice instead of a hot date?”

“Fuck off,” Atsumu so eloquently tells him.

“I can’t believe someone like (L/N) is actually into you.” Futakuchi snorts. “Thought she had taste. Guess I was wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Atsumu can feel his temper rising. He is still a little pissed at Futakuchi from last night, and now he’s rubbing salt in a fresh wound.

“Do you even know how to take care of a girl?” The brunette raises his eyebrows. “Last time I checked, Atsumu Miya doesn’t do relationships.”

“I can learn, for her,” Atsumu responds, unwavering. “There's a first time for everythin'. Besides, I didn’t know that yer this interested in my love life.”

“Nah.” Futakuchi shrugs. “You know, you’re not the only one who has a thing for (L/N). So don’t think you’re so special.”

“Too bad for them, then.” The tall blonde sneers. “Tell them to get in line.”

“Please.” Futakuchi laughs. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a girlfriend. You don’t know how to treat her, or any girl for that matter, right. You’re as inexperienced with relationships as any first year in this castle.”

“Shut up.” Atsumu’s jaw tightens.

“I’m right.” The brunette looks so awfully, awfully, smug. “It’s only a matter of time before (L/N) realizes that despite all your talk and reputation, you’d be a shit partner. Have fun while you can.” Without giving Atsumu a chance to retaliate, Futakuchi casually saunters away.

Atsumu’s fist clenches and unclenches. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench.

As much as he tries not to let Futakuchi’s words get the best of him, he can’t help but remember every last one, each syllable echoing tauntingly in his mind.

About thirty minutes later, he’s down on the Quidditch pitch, commanding his team.

“Taichi, I want ya to practice your saves. RinRin, Omi, Tomu — line up near the goal posts and take turns throwin’ the Quaffle. Tobio, I’m releasin’ the Snitch and I want it found in three minutes. I’m keeping time. Yes, wear your gloves. ‘Samu, we’ll be running Bludger drills, let me just get Tobio started — “ Atsumu pauses as his thoughts decide to give him a bitter reminder that he could be at Hogsmeade with you right now, had it not been for Quidditch practice. Atsumu suddenly feels quite irritated; not a good mindset for a captain.

“Um… Captain?” Kageyama asks hesitantly, as Atsumu was supposed to release the Snitch but never did.

“Fuck, sorry, Tobio.” Atsumu immediately undoes the safety straps that lock the Snitch in and sends it fluttering into the air. Kageyama mounts his broom and shoots into the air, with Atsumu hitting ‘Start’ on the stopwatch in his hand.

“’Samu, release the Bludgers for me,” Atsumu requests. Osamu gives a grunt of compliance. The Captain observes his players, his gaze first trained on Kageyama soaring about up in the clouds, searching for the Snitch. He then glances at the Chasers and Taichi, who are doing well with their drill.

Atsumu and Osamu mount their brooms, Beater bats in hand, as they prepare to rally the large black balls as part of their drill. Osamu smacks one of the Bludgers in Atsumu’s direction, which he immediately sends straight back. The distance between the two grows and grows, with each resounding SMACK! requiring more power to send the ball back to the other person.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” Kageyama announces, and Atsumu quickly checks the timer. Two minutes and ten seconds.

“Good!” he praises his Seeker. Kageyama hands him the caught Snitch, and Atsumu throws it into the air a second time. “Try under two minutes!”

All in all, Atsumu is able to drown himself in the game he loves most. Especially now that he’s Captain, he has to take responsibility for the team and can’t be caught slacking.

Practice proceeds for its first two hours without many hiccups. Taichi’s making consistent saves, the three Chasers are throwing with good accuracy, Tobio’s finding the Snitch quickly, Atsumu and Osamu have yet to break their rally of Bludgers. Atsumu feels good about his team. He truly feels that they have the potential to completely clobber Hufflepuff next week —

Is that Kenji fucking Futakuchi talking to you in the stands.

Atsumu whirls around, not paying attention to the Bludgers, which whiz by and graze his cheek.

“Eyes on the Bludgers, ‘Tsumu!” Osamu shouts, and Atsumu growls but tears his gaze away from where Kenji Futakuchi seems to be having a very interesting conversation with you.

And suddenly, as Futakuchi whispers something in your ear and motions towards Atsumu, with you sending him a look laced with hesitation and apprehension, Atsumu feels something within him break.

What if Futakuchi is right?

He was correct that Atsumu has never been in a relationship. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t know what constitutes a real relationship beyond the label. Why did he think that he’d be able to commit so fast and so easily, even if you’re the girl he’s been in love with for years? This shit doesn’t come as easily as it looks. Maybe he’s not ready. And you don’t deserve to have to wait for him. You deserve someone who’s wholeheartedly ready to love you for the rest of your life without a shadow of doubt in their mind.

“’Tsumu! Focus!” Osamu yells as another Bludger nearly hits Atsumu squarely in the chest.

No. You’ve been selfish long enough, keepin’ other guys away from her and not lettin’ anyone near her. And now that ya finally have a chance, yer not fuckin’ ready. Loser. Frustrated, Atsumu smacks a Bludger extra-hard, and Osamu barely avoids getting clobbered in the stomach. Ya go cryin’ over a girl for seven years and now ya don’t even know how to treat her. What the hell.

Finally, guilt starts to build up in his chest. All those years of bothering you, provoking you, annoying you — did he deserve you after all of that? You never even had to give him the time of day, and he should consider himself lucky that he's maintained a lick of your attention after all this time.

He thinks back to the trip down memory lane that his brain had decided to take on him the previous night. God, he really doesn’t know how to act around you. And now he thinks he should be the one you want? He had hardly even given you the chance to choose anyone but himself.

Atsumu's made it clear since the beginning that he's interested in you (to everyone else but you, apparently) and the rest of the school were (mostly) respectful enough to acknowledge that. But when did he actually get the right to keep others away from you like that? Never.

He doesn’t deserve to have you smile at him. He doesn’t deserve to have you worry about him. He doesn’t deserve to even have you consider the possibility of loving him. Is this fate playing a cruel trick on him? Showing him something he could have, but maliciously tearing it away with the realization that he’s so undeserving?

“Good job today.” His voice sounds disembodied as he addresses his team with a hollowed, unfeeling tone at the end of practice. “Keep up the hard work. We’ll regroup on Monday for another practice.”

Then Atsumu stalks off the Quidditch pitch without another word. He thinks he can vaguely hear you calling his name, but he doesn’t look back. To be humbled by the fact that he’s been wildly selfish and horrible to the person who he loves the most, is not an easy pill to swallow.

"Atsumu! Atsumu! Wait!" You're suddenly right behind him, and you grab his arm in an attempt to slow him down. "Jeez, why did you leave so quickly?" You don't sound unhappy with him in the slightest, which means that either Futakuchi hadn't been saying bad things about him, or that you simply don't care. Atsumu relaxes a tiny bit.

"Ah, sorry." He turns around, the self-deprecating thoughts slowly leaving his mind one-by-one upon seeing the soft smile beginning to settle on your face.

"I came all the way down here and you were about to run away?" you muse, and Atsumu quickly shakes his head.

"It's not like that, (Y/N). It's just — "

"Don't worry, nothing Futakuchi said upset me." Atsumu stills at your words. "You were concerned about that, weren't you?"

"...Maybe," he admits after a moment.

"Relax, Miya. You've got your faults — I know that for sure — but it's not anyone's perfect either. Everything Futakuchi said was what I already know." You roll your eyes. "So stop frowning, idiot. You're gonna get wrinkles." Atsumu immediately unfurls his eyebrows.

"I don't want to lose you," he confesses quietly. "Not now, when we're finally not at each others' throats every hour of the day."

"Put more faith in me. Nothing more can happen if you don't trust me the way you want me to trust you." You suddenly reach for his hand, squeezing it softly with your own.

"Just to make sure, yer finally acceptin' my feelings... right?" Atsumu asks a bit uncertainly, unable to look away from where your smaller hand grasps his.

"Not just accepting them. I'm thinking there might be a possibility I could return them," you explain rather boldly, and Atsumu's lungs suddenly constrict with a combination of surprise and excitement. "So don't give up on me yet, okay?"

"...Okay..." Atsumu whispers, his previous doubts fading. Indeed, his past self had completely undeserving of your affection. He was selfish, only thinking for himself when he practically begged for your attention every day with the way he treated you instead of concerning himself with how you might've felt. Atsumu simply never thought you would feel the same way for him, yet that was no excuse for his act throughout the years. He just wished that he had realized all of this sooner; maybe then he wouldn't have had to deal with so much uncertainty.

"Stop thinking so hard. I can tell that the gears in your small brain are turning real hard," you mock him using one of his own lines.

"Hey!" Atsumu exclaims, appalled. He pauses for a moment, trying to think of something intelligent to say. "You... meant it, right? That yer givin' me a chance?"

"I meant every word I said, Miya." You let out a small sigh. "Don't waste it."

"I won't."

He won't. He'll make it all up to you, and finally become someone who is deserving of your love.

Atsumu makes this promise to himself as the pair of you walk back towards the castle, hand-in-hand.

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henqtic · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Cake

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!ravenclaw!reader

summary: Draco plans a picnic for you due to the stress of your classes.

word count: 821

authors note: This is going to be a no Voldemort AU and we’re gonna pretend that Snape became the DADA professor this year. Also this y/n is a poc because I don’t see many works like that.This is also set in y/n’s and Draco’s seventh year.I also suck at summary’s so let’s pretend I don’t :)

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works.

—————————

You woke up seated at your desk, your hair was tangled and ink bled through the parchment where your face was laying. You moved the dark curls from around your face realizing that you had forgotten to tie your hair up. Looking around your blue and silver decorated dorm you saw that the sun had barely risen.

You’d think Snape not teaching anymore did some good for the students but all the work that was required in defense against the dark arts, was required in defense against the dark arts.

Being a Ravenclaw a lot of things were expected of you. You got your work done on time and still passed with good scores but that made a huge dent in your sleeping schedule. Most of the time that was supposed to be spent studying was spent with him.

. * + .♡

Draco had gained his liking of you in his second year DADA class when Professor Lockhart was teaching.

You had been sitting by Draco on account of all of the Ravenclaw seats had been taken. You really had no problem with Slytherins. You could relate with their ambition to get to their goal and they made for good friends. What had probably caught his eye that day was your long coiled hair. How when you mindlessly played with it when you pulled down on one of the coils your hair would elongate and go right back into place.

“Like Magic,” He thought.

He was half listening to Lockhart go on about how many awards his smile had won when you leaned closer to his side, “I’m guessing the awards were won out of pity,” you said with a sorry smile but still, there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

He looked at you in shock, surprised that you weren’t like Granger who was currently hanging on to every word the man said. “I think we’ll be great friends,” he said, reaching out a hand just like he had did the previous year with Harry Potter..

* + .♡

In Draco’s fourth year, he asked you to the yule ball saying how you were his best friend and that he wouldn’t appreciate Crabbe or Goyle as dates.

On the day of the ball you wore a flowy light purple dress with gold leaves that complimented your brown skin. When Draco saw you he could swear on Merlin himself that you looked like a princess. He was so helplessly head over heels with you, your smile, your laugh, the way you had a shine that no one else could compare to.

Near the end of the ball after sharing a slow dance together, he brought you under a tree near the grounds and you two sat down at the bench.You were going on about how much you loved strawberries and everything to do with them, and how you were so close to wearing a strawberry dress. He argued that green apples would have to be the best but he was too involved in admiring how your skin looked so heavenly in the moonlight.

“Oh I’m sorry, I was rambling wasn’t I?” You apologized.

He looked into your brown eyes and quickly responded with a small smile, “No it’s fine I like when you talk about things that you like.”

That caught you off guard and you responded back with a small ‘oh’, still slightly in shock from his statement.

He leaned closer and halfway turned to look you in the eye and said in a way as if you were a good dream he wouldn’t be able to come back to, “Can I kiss you?” You nodded your head in a yes and everything after that had been history.

. * + .♡

You sprayed a floral scented perfume on before heading out of the common room to meet Draco. He had slipped you a note in the middle of potions class yesterday evening. In the middle of potions class yesterday evening he passed you a note.

y/n,

I need you to meet me at our spot tomorrow morning. I’ve noticed you’ve been stressed and I have a surprise for you.

love, the most handsome blonde and perfect boyfriend you’ve ever had.

“I’ve never met someone with such a big ego,” you scoffed as you reread the note while walking to your destination. When you had got there you were met with a great sight.

There was Draco sitting on a blanket that had two glasses of some sparkling liquid, sandwiches, green apples, and most importantly strawberry cake. “Guess who,” you whispered. Your hands were over his eyes, not quite touching his face.

“Hagrid is that you?” He joked, making you scoff and look around the spot. When you were done admiring the set up you asked,“You really did all of this for me?” He grabbed your hand and said in an obvious but nonetheless lovingly tone, “I’d do anything for you.”

. * + .♡

#harry potter #fluff #harry potter fluff #draco fluff #draco malfoy #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x poc!reader #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco imagine #malfoy #hogwarts #draco blurb #oneshot #draco oneshot

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yatorihell · 3 years

Text

In The Darkness Chapter 77 - The Visit

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 4,582

Summary: The trio visit Godric’s Hollow.

Also available on Yatorihell A03

Winter rolled in and the days blurred into each other.

Yukine’s birthday passed without much celebration – not that they had been keeping tracked of the dates in the first place. During a trip for supplies, they bought a little cake – a decadent rarity in the new travelling life they had – and presented it to Yukine at dinner.

The frustrations had eased lightly, the horcrux now being carried in their pockets rather than around their necks to keep contact to a minimum, but Yato still felt that nag that he wasn’t doing enough. If it wasn’t a glimmer of rubies, a serpent’s eyes, or his own name being whispered like wind in the eaves in his visions, it was Sakura who greeted him. A pallor like death and her face contorted, reaching around his neck before disappearing beyond the veil.

“Can you not see anything?” Yukine prodded.

Yato suppressed a groan. This became the new routine: sleep, see nothing, wake up, get questioned. He could understand the need to pick apart every part of the dreams he had, but there was nothing there.

“No, I can’t see anything,” Yato replied as calmly as he could.

Yukine huffed and fell silent.

The Sorcerer seemed to be stronger at preventing Yato see his memories. If they could work out how to destroy the locket, maybe it would weaken his defences enough to find the other horcruxes.

Yato told himself this daily, a strained belief that the first step was destroying the locket. It would be the second out of Merlin knew how many, but still, how many horcruxes could one person make? How many times could they tear their soul apart and still feel human? He could only hope there was a limit.

“I think I found a lead on how to destroy horcruxes,” Hiyori said later that evening.

Yato looked at her, eyes tired in the dying lamplight. On her lap was that infernal Dark Arts book she read through every evening, seemingly doing more to find horcruxes than he was. In her hands she held the book Professor Tenjin left her, Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Hiyori patted the spot beside her on her bed, and Yato ambled over. Yukine looked on from his spot on the floor where he’d bundled himself in a blanket.

“Look at this,” Hiyori pointed at one of the dozens of marks that had been etched over the book’s pages. A circle within a triangle, crossed through with a vertical line. He blinked at it for a minute, then looked at Hiyori.

“You know I failed Ancient Runes,” Yato said. “’Affinity for failure’, Takemikazuchi said.”

Hiyori shook her head. “It’s not a rune.”

Hiyori put down the book and refocused on the Dark Arts book. She flipped to a page and showed him and Yukine, who had finally risen to see what she was talking about. The same symbol was printed in the top right corner, besides a name in dark lettering. Their mouths fell open.

“Not the Grindelwald? Certified madman purist?” Yukine asked, craning his head to try to read the scribbled writing.

“One of the most dangerous Dark Wizards, Grindelwald believed that wizards were oppressed by Muggles and wanted to return ‘the natural order’,” Hiyori recited.

“Like the Sorcerer,” Yato said.

Hiyori nodded and continued. “He attended Durmstrang, which is famous for its relaxed approach to the Dark Arts, and got expelled for attacking students and… unethical experiments. He became obsessed with the Deathly Hallows, which is what this symbol is.”

Hiyori picked up the Beedle the Bard storybook again and flicked to the front page where they could see the same symbol.

“The Philosophers Stone, the Cloak of Invisibility, and the Elder Wand,” Hiyori pointed at each as she went. “He wanted to retrieve all three and become the Master of Death. He got as far as the Elder Wand before he was captured.”

“Then what?” Yukine asked.

“He disappeared.”

Yukine let out a breath that was nearly a snort. “That’s the Ministry for you, can’t keep hold of the Darkest Wizards.”

“How do the Deathly Hallows help us?” Yato interrupted.

He knew the Philosophers Stone was said to be used to create the Elixir of Life, giving the drinker immortality. Kugaha had revealed his own version which could contain life force derived from a soul vessel, which was the diary Yato had destroyed in the Chamber of Secrets. He doubted he nor the Sorcerer was in possession of it if he had to resort to horcruxes.

The invisibility cloak, well, there were lots of them, even he had one. But the Elder Wand was something obscured in myth, legend, and fairy-tale, like the book in Hiyori’s lap. No one knew who owned the Elder Wand due to the curse of jealousy that came with it; its owners murdered in their beds by others craving its power.

A storybook seemed an unlikely answer to destroying horcruxes, but Hiyori was thinking of the bigger picture.

“It’s not the Hallows we need, it’s the name,” Hiyori put down the book and folded her hand on her lap like she was about to reveal the biggest revelation in the world. “Grindelwald had family in Godric’s Hollow.”

Yato flinched inwardly at the village name, but it went unnoticed. Hiyori looked at them expectantly, but the penny still hung in the air.

“How does that help us?” Yukine prompted.

“Grindelwald’s symbol was in this book. Grindelwald was from Godric’s Hollow,” Hiyori paused for a moment, still seeing their blank faces.

“What if Professor Tenjin knew that he couldn’t give you the sword? What if he hid it somewhere we could find it, using the gifts he gave us?”

“The Sword of Gryffindor is locked up in Hogwarts,” Yato pointed out.

“But is it the real sword?”

Yato and Yukine paused. It was a longshot, but would Professor Tenjin have the foresight to know that the sword would be kept from them?

“Where would we find it?” Yukine asked.

Hiyori’s face fell just a fraction. “I don’t know…”

“It’s a start at least,” Yato encouraged. “You found a clue!”

Hiyori smiled gently. “Thank you.”

Yukine picked his blanket up from the floor and crossed back to his own bed. “Let’s just hope we don’t get snatched before we find it.”

The next time they had stopped for supplies was in the midst of a snowstorm.

They left their camp wrapped in hats and scarves to hide their faces and apparated. When they emerged in a sleepy village that was covered in snow, Yato recognised it instantly. The houses they passed were decked in wreaths, the front room lights glowing warm and making them silently wish that they had the luxury of a home to go back to.

Godric’s Hollow was mainly a wizarding population, and visiting wasn’t a risk they would take if there wasn’t something important hidden within.

The main thoroughfare of the village was quiet aside from the drunken cheers from the pub further down the road, but Yukine pulled his scarf around his mouth and entered the shop alone. Whilst they would apparate together, going in shops alone was one way of making sure Snatchers and snitches wouldn’t recognise three of the wizarding worlds most wanted huddled around cans of soup.

Yato looked wistfully up the road, heart hammering and mouth dry. He hadn’t been here since that day, and the knowledge of that made him feel sick.

“Do you want to visit her?”

Yato snapped his head back. Hiyori had pulled her pink scarf from around her mouth by a finger, looking at him with soft eyes. He looked back, through the snow where he could just make out the church tower standing out against the sky. Maybe the horcrux was playing with his heart, feeling its erratic beat on the underside of the locket, but pulsating need to go was enough to move him.

He nodded.

They walked silently from the shop, not bothering to let Yukine know where they were going. But either way, anyone who knew Yato would know the first place he would go, for this village just so happened to be where Sakura was laid to rest.

The church dominated the sky as they entered through the small metal gate that had become stuck open in a snowdrift. The stain-glassed windows glowed dimly, and a faint noise could be heard from inside, but they turned left and followed the hidden pathway that skirted the edges.

The small churchyard was where they had erected a headstone and said their own private mass for those who knew Sakura. Yato remembered Professor Tenjin, Kofuku, Daikoku, and nameless faces gathered around the plot of earth that held no coffin, laying late-blooming cherry blossoms atop the grass and saying their final goodbyes.

Now Yato could see that those branches were long gone, cleared away by the groundskeeper probably not too long after the funeral. A thick layer of snow capped the black stone, the golden words not quite faded yet like the memory of her voice. The flowerpot was blackened with dirt and the rainwater inside surely frozen, not that there were flowers to begin with.

They looked at the gravestone in silence, allowing the snowflakes to settle on the sleeves of their coats and star their woolly hats in multitude of fading constellations. The ringing of bells sounded behind them, and slowly, a gentle hum of singing reached them across the barrenness of forgotten souls.

“I think it’s Christmas eve,” Hiyori said gently.

Yato said nothing, just stared at the marble that listed Sakura’s name, birth and death. Underneath were the words that named her sister, friend; that was all the monument that her life held.

Hiyori quietly stepped forward and knelt on the frosty ground before the headstone. Wordlessly she waved her wand in a circular motion, a cherry blossom wreath appearing against the grave.

Yato smiled sadly at the small yet great gesture as she stood up and stepped back beside him. His hand caught hers in a silent thank you, which she squeezed in return and leaned her head against his shoulder. Maybe this was the closure he needed to clear his visions.

“Happy Christmas, Hiyori,” Yato murmured.

“Happy Christmas, Yato.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer, lingering in the comfort and warmth they gave each other. Yato’s eyes flickered up to the dark churchyard railings that divided the living from the dead. In the dying snow flurry, he could see a figure stood in the road directly facing them.

At first he thought it was Yukine, allowing them a moment's privacy to remember Sakura, but the figure was too short and had an unnerving aura to it. Yato tightened his grip on his wand but looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen the stocky figure.

“Someone’s watching us,” Yato murmured quietly, looking to the left beyond Hiyori at the rows of wonky headstones.

She looked at him, eyes wide under snowcapped lashes before she subtly looked to the railings. She frowned, her breath fogging in front of her. “Isn’t that Iwami?”

Yato allowed his eyes to slide over again, but the figure was already retreating. From a distance he couldn’t be sure, but the white tufts of hair and the small, hunched build under the coat could’ve been him. He was one of the oldest members of the Order of the Phoenix, serving alongside Tenjin in the First Wizarding War, yet he hadn’t been seen since Kofuku told them about members going missing before Tenjin’s death.

The figure stopped and looked back but continued down centre of the abandoned road.

“I think he wants us to follow,” Yato murmured. Could Hiyori be right? Was the Sword of Gryffindor hidden here all along, in Tenjin’s birthplace and already in the Orders possession? Had Iwami stolen away with it, keeping it safe under Tenjin’s orders?

Hiyori looked back up the road towards the shop. “We should wait for Yukine -.”

“It’s ok, Iwami is in the Order,” Yato cut in. He took Hiyori’s hand and started up the path towards the exit, heart beating harder.

Iwami was nearly a smudge in the snowfall, but their paces quickly caught up to him outside a derelict house on the outskirts of the village. The windows had been shattered and the door hung from its hinges, letting a small snowdrift pile up in the hallway. Bits of debris that seemed to have been thrown from the windows were strewn across the front garden and covered in a thick layer of snow.

Iwami shuffled inside, not looking back as Yato and Hiyori hung around the gate. He disappeared into the shadows of the house, not bothering to turn on any lights. They stood outside for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t greeted them nor invited them in.

“Should we go in?” Hiyori whispered.

A groaning came from inside, and Yato nodded. “He said come in.”

Yato led the way inside the house, stepping over the frozen post that had piled up on the floor and been obscured by snow of the same colour. He could tell that this wasn’t Iwami’s residency due to the smell of something foul and the moulting interior. The furniture was broken and the lightbulbs had been smashed in their holdings, leaving them in pure darkness.

Yato’s eyes adjusted and he saw Iwami’s stout, hunched figure at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t look quite right; all shadows and lines in his face and a gait that told them he was at the end of his days. He spoke again, and Yato’s ears attuned to his speech.

“Is it here?” Yato asked quietly, matching his tone. “The Sword of Gryffindor? Professor Tenjin -.”

Iwami spoke again, a rasp that barely reached Hiyori’s ears. He turned and started up the stairs, footsteps thumping slowly and methodically with every step.

Yato looked back at Hiyori for a second and followed him.

The stairs were narrow and steep, and Yato feared Iwami may fall back at any moment, but they made it to the top of the stairs. None of the rooms Yato could see had doors, leading to gaping abysses of foreboding darkness that were barely illuminated by the streetlamp outside. He followed Iwami inside the front bedroom, wand pressed to his side.

There was a moment of silence. Yato waited patiently, but still he could feel the steady thrum of his heart against the locket, an unpleasant and agitating feeling.

“You are Yato.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Yato nodded regardless. “Do you have something for me?”

Iwami close his eyes and Yato felt an uncomfortable prickle run over his body. The horcrux jerked against his skin and the world swam in a hazy shadowed blur. Before him, Iwami’s mouth opened and his eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolling back in his head as a long tendril pushed out from his mouth. The sound of scales slithering within skin filled the room, and in the distance, he heard Hiyori scream.

The body collapsed to the floor and a serpent spilled from its mouth, slick with salvia glistening against the black scales. The same snake he saw in his visions; the same one that he saw in his bedroom at Hogwarts.

In the time it took for Yato to raise his wand the snake struck his arm, puncturing the skin through his coat.

Yato gasped, somehow keeping a grip on his wand, as its tail slammed into his stomach, a coil of muscle that sent him staggering back towards the door. He heard footsteps on the stairs, unable to call out to Hiyori and tell her to get out. The tail lashed against his ankle and Yato fell with a pained grunt. He felt the coils of scales encircle him, muscular and heavy as the serpent’s head slithered up his chest. The horcrux thrummed harder against his chest as if beating in time with the flickering forked tongue.

“Yaboku…”

Yato felt his vision darkening, arms held tight against his chest, wand useless.

The snake's head darted up suddenly, fangs bared in a hiss as a spell rippled over its body. Its body convulsed and loosened, and Yato gasped, kicking his legs free and coughing. He saw the snake's body in the darkness strike at Hiyori, heard her shriek as she dodged it and flung another spell at it.

Red light briefly lit up the hallway as the snake was flung backward and narrowly missed Yato as he stood. If there was a door he would’ve slammed it shut, but instead, he watched the snake flip over the suit of skin and come at them again with renewed vigour.

Yato raised his wand, arm aching with what he hoped wasn’t poison, and bellowed, “Confringo!”

Yato threw himself over Hiyori, shielding her against the wall. The bedroom exploded. The shattered glass on the floor bounced around the room, the furniture reverberated and splintered, and in the din, they heard the snake scream.

Yato’s head split open with white noise, an unbearable searing pain against his heart forcing the world to go white as snow and then black as night.

Feet walking barefoot through rivers of blood on white marble. The steady drip of crimson running from a hand, splattering on the floor like blooming roses.

A long, elegant black wand. The word ‘Nagini’ whispered like a prayer in the language of snakes.

The feeling of ripping a soul apart and simultaneously taking one for a perverted act of Dark magic.

A woman with long dark hair crying, a ring on her finger that looked so familiar yet unfamiliar as it still contained her lover’s soul.

The locket. Grindelwald's mark. A two-handled goblet he’d seen in multiple portraits at Hogwarts.

The serpent’s eyes, yellow and glowing like a Basilisk.

Yato came to with a start. He was in the tent, in his own bed. His coat and jumper had been peeled off and the duvet was tucked around him. From the still air, dim lamplight, and the lack of warmth in the tent, it could have been the middle of the night. A sheen of sweat trickled down his face. His sudden movement brought Hiyori to his side instantly, closely followed by Yukine. His eyes focused in the dim yellow glow as the lamp was brought to his bedside.

“What happened?” Yato croaked.

“You blacked out at the house,” Hiyori answered. She held a sponge in her hand, and Yato noticed the small cuts on her face where he failed to protect her from the glass. “Yukine heard us from the churchyard and came running. We apparated out of there before the snake woke up.”

Yato looked at Yukine, dazed. From the look on his face, Yukine was more worried than he was pissed off, but the fact that fear outweighed anger scared him.

“How long was I out?” Yato asked.

“Hours, it's nearly morning,” Hiyori dropped the sponge into the bowl of water next to the bed.

“We couldn’t get the horcrux off you,” Hiyori continued. “We had to use a Severing Charm to get it off you; it was like touching fire. And the snake bit you, so I put some salve on them.”

Yato gingerly pushed down his duvet just enough to see an angry red burn in the centre of his chest, right above his heart. His knuckles were white and cut, and the punctures in his arm weren’t as deep as they felt. No doubt the rest of his was as battered and bruised as he felt. He remembered the pulsating beat of the horcrux that he mistook for his own heartbeat, the jerking thrum it made when he was in close contact with the snake. It was as natural as it was agitating.

“Where is it?” Yato looked around, less desperately than he might’ve had if it hadn’t maimed him.

“In the bag. We’ll leave it there for a few days.”

Yato flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes. “That was the same snake that attacked Daikoku in the Department of Mysteries.”

He opened his eyes again and stared at the canvas, feeling Hiyori’s and Yukine’s eyes intently on him. “I think it’s his pet – ‘Nagini’.”

He tasted the name on his lips. It was foreign to him, and although the thought of the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world having a pet was unthinkable, it was less so knowing that this was the kind he had.

“Iwami…” Yato asked questioningly, looking at the pair, but Hiyori shook her head.

“Dead in the cupboard.”

“It must’ve used him as a skin to lure us to the house,” Yato sighed. He dragged a hand over his face.

In his desperation to get the sword, he put Hiyori’s life at risk. He wasn’t even sure it was Iwami until he had them in the house and nearly butchered them. Even then, he hadn’t been seen in nearly a year – he was one of the members who had gone missing, presumed dead or defected. Now they knew what had happened; the Sorcerer was using their own against them.

“What was he saying to you?” Hiyori asked.

Yato pushed himself up and accepted the fresh t-shirt Yukine offered him. “What do you mean? You were there.”

“You weren’t talking English,” Hiyori countered. “It was just…”

“Hisses?” Yukine finished. They both looked at him and he offered a single shrug. “Yato speaks parseltonuge; it’s how he found me in the Chamber of Secrets. He sleeptalks it too.”

Yato rubbed his head again, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. He hadn’t spoken parseltongue in years, but he didn’t even realise he was speaking it when he talked to Nagini. It came so easily, like slipping into another skin and talking with an old friend. Once again, the name Yaboku was spoken in a sweetly sinister hiss that was all too familiar.

“Did you have a vision?” Yukine asked, but this time the question didn’t annoy Yato. He paused.

“I saw him.” The footsteps in blood, the wand, the voice – it was all the Sorcerer. And those flashes – Izanami wearing the ring horcrux, a two-handled goblet… “I saw his memories.”

Yato briefly described the vision, along with the new information about the goblet. Yukine frowned. “That sounds like Helga Hufflepuff’s goblet.”

It clicked into place as soon as he said it. He’d seen her portrait at Hogwarts, most recently in the Hufflepuff dormitories when he got love-potioned. A golden goblet encrusted with jewels and etched with a badger was held in her hands as she looked at him disapprovingly.

“How can that be a horcrux? Hufflepuffs cup went missing years ago, along with Ravenclaws Diadem,” Hiyori pondered.

“We know he attended Hogwarts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they went missing around the same time he left, or he was able to get in using a Vanishing Cabinet to steal them,” Yukine pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. “If that’s the case, he had possession of all the founder’s relics.”

They fell silent. Godric Gryffindor’s sword which had been withheld from them and was now lost. Helga Hufflepuff’s cup was now a horcrux. Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem had been also been lost or stolen. The Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk was Salazar Slytherin’s ‘gift’ to Hogwarts, and was now dead. It seemed to be a personal vendetta if the Sorcerer was using Hogwarts’ own founding relics against them.

“Did you see where it was at least?” Yukine asked, but Yato shook his head in silence.

Hiyori’s thoughts cut the silence again with fresh fear. “How did we get traced again? Just like the café, something happened and they found us. Only this time they were more careful about the execution.”

Or lack of, Yato thought, but he had a point – something happened and they were followed. No one could follow their apparations unless they touched them, and if they had been sighted, Snatchers would’ve got to them before they could escape.

Yato let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know how we were followed, but we should get going.”

“What about the sword?”

“They probably got to it before us.”

Yato kicked the duvet free, happy to see they’d left his trousers on unlike his shirt, and swung himself out of bed. He winced at the bruises on his side and nearly kicked over the water bowl on the floor before Yukine caught his elbow. Yato let out a wheezed laugh. It had been a while since he’d taken a beating; he was getting soft if a snake could get the best of him.

“Don’t suppose you know a spell to fix broken ribs?” Yato half-heartedly joked, though the thought of protruding ribs was something that could become a possibility. He looked at Hiyori and caught the secret look that passed between her and Yukine.

Yato’s smile slipped. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s another problem,” Yukine said slowly, but the words alone were enough to have a wave of assumptions wash over him in a second.

Yato looked at Hiyori, expecting her to reveal a fatal snake bite she was concealing for his own sake, or that he did indeed have broken ribs. Her eyes snagged on his and she bit her lip.

“My wand broke… when the spell bounced,” Hiyori murmured.

Yato’s heart sank. His spell blew up the room Hiyori’s wand with it – her first and only wand. His mind raced for an answer as he held her gaze, but there was none – a trip down Diagon Alley was out of the question.

Hiyori was unarmed.

They moved camp later that day, setting up somewhere in the south where there was little to no snowfall and remote enough that they would be found.

Yato found himself more alert despite his injuries, hyperaware that Hiyori had no way to defend herself. They listened to Kazuma’s radio show; first the list of the dead and snatched, then the true news updates about the Ministry. Kazuma revealed that the Sword of Gryffindor had been relocated from Hogwarts after a failed robbery, but it only disheartened them more to know it was well and truly out of reach. They pushed their stew around their bowls, lost in thought.

When night fell, Yato realised the world had shifted.

After that night in Godric’s Hollow, a silent agreement was made to share each other's company as the winter nights grew longer and colder, and the nightmares of serpents, rotting corpses and death slithered into their dreams.

Yukine pretended not to notice the first time when Hiyori sniffled and quietly slipped out of bed in the dead of night, thinking that he was still asleep. She tiptoed across the creaking wooden slats to Yato’s bed for solstice, finding the single duvet flipped already open for her to crawl in beside him. Her shivering only stopped when she curled up against him and his arm draped over her side, thumb rubbing small, gentle circles on her back as he coaxed her back to sleep.

Twinned with the warmth radiating from under his t-shirt and the steady beat of his heart, dreamless sleep eventually claimed Hiyori. Her fingers loosely clung to his bed shirt as she nuzzled into the deep smell of the boy that held her even closer than he would if she were awake.

When sleep finally claimed Yato, for the first time in weeks there was no vision.

#noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #yukine #hiyori #yatori #hp au #harry potter au #in the darkness

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troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

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Au: Wizard Queen, Dawn. Tell us about how she ended up there and what would make her a unique ruler?

Dawna the Daring First Wizard Queen of Camelot

Dawna, Daughter of Morgana Mother of Monsters, and Niece of Arthur the Abstruse and Gwenivere the Good

First Wizard to rule Camelot and youngest queen to ascend to the throne.

For the first 10 people who send in O.C questions I will draw a response. Out of the 10 three posts will get a prize. They can chose a short story (2-5 pages) or ask for a sketch of their choice.

(Cannon Divergent Dawn A.U)

(Also the outfit she wears as Queen is a mix of Arthur and Morganas look with her own style mixed in)

After the battle of Killahead bridge Merlin, Morgana, and King Arthur fell. Before passing Dawna remains by her uncles side. Arthur says how he is so proud of Dawn and how she was right, Gwenivere would have wanted peace and he shouldn't have done what he'd done to the trolls. He shouldn't have done what he'd done to magic users. Giving her his crown and telling her she is worthy of Excalibur Dawn cries over her uncle and the loss of her family. Morgana is gone, Arthur is gone, Gwenivere is gone, and Merlin is missing. As the crown hangs on her head and Excalibur rests in her hand, the trolls and knights of Camelot surround her bowing their heads. She stands and sees she's not alone.

Vendel putting his hand on Dawns shoulder declares the war is over, that Dwoza will side with Camelot and Dawna and that the true Queen has risen to the throne. Dawna makes an oath that day infront of the trolls and knights that she would rule Camelot in an era of peace. Gunmar may be gone but Bular was still out there and with him other GumGums would rise. They must still be weary but now they stand a fighting chance as they fight together.

Her first act as Queen is to allow all magic users and magic creatures sanctuary in her kingdom and to permantley open Camelots gates. As trolls help rebuild the shambles of Camelot Dawn makes sure the proper architecture is put in place to shelter them from the sun if they chose to visit. She establishes a magic school in the castle similar to the RoundTable Arthur runs, one where mages young and old can learn their craft. Classes takes place at the castle but are also held in the woods where Blinkous and Vendel teach troll magic and history. Where Aarrrgh regales his tales as a GumGum and explains how he left Gunmars side.

Dawn never gets a proper crowning ceremony as she is focused on the restoration of her home and culture. However as her first year comes to a close as queen and she celebrates peace with her people and the trolls, a wounded but still alive Lancelot crowns her officially as Queen. The day is marked and every year the kingdom celebrates Dawn rising to the throne, the defeat of Gunmar, and the joining of two kingdoms.

Camelot and Dwoza under Dawn and Vendels reign experience a prosperous era of peace. One full of art, technology, poetry, songs, dancing, books, architecture advancements, new magic, and love between trolls and humans. Trolls no longer have to hide and humans no longer have to fear.

#dawna #dawn #trollhunters #trollhunters o.c #toa o.c #wizards o.c #trollhunters fanart #trollhunters a.u #dawna a.u #queen dawna #800 follower challenge #guys the sword #it took so l o n g

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fudgetunblr · 3 years

Text

First Line Tag Game

thanks for tagging me @donttouchtheneednoggle :)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line, then tag some of your favourite authors!

Ok, so I don’t have 20 published fics, but I do have a bunch of WIP, so I suppose that’ll have to do :))) also, context? what context?

actual published fics:

1. Betty: “This is stupid.” Alicia cried.

2. “We’re not best friends anymore, why can’t you see that?!”: Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood are polar opposites.

3. "I remember": Gordie knew that if anyone found out, they’d be dead.

WIP (mostly without names):

4. All or Nothing: “No way!” Arthur complained loudly, slamming the fridge door shut, emerging with a can of coke.

5. Unnamed wolfstar fic: Remus Lupin was crammed inside a Hogwarts cupboard together with Nymphadora Tonks.

6. Another unnamed wolfstar fic: “I’m not doing it!”

7. Out of the Woods: Katie Bell is losing her mind, because she has nothing to wear and she is about to go absolutely ballistic.

8. HP Gossip Girl AU: Hey Hogwarts students, Gossip Girl here.

9. Heather: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has risen to fame as one of the most acclaimed schools to master the arts of magic due to notable alumni and all the colonisation the United Kingdom has ever done, putting them on the map. (this might be the worst thing I've ever written, no seriously ignore this one wtf. Is this supposed to be political commentary?)

10. random flintwood fic: “I refuse, you hear me? I refuse!”

11. random HP fic: Harry Potter was a lot of things.

12. HP x Merlin crossover fic: When Merlin woke up that morning, he had not signed up for babysitting three sorcerers lost in time. (yes, I have posted this line before.)

13. random dron fic because I have no taste: Draco Malfoy was up to something, Harry Potter could feel it.

14. one (1) Swedish fic for good measure, because I've only ever written one: Reine gillar inte att gömma sig.

15. a random The Fosters Fic: He was reading.

16. That one time I wrote a HSM fic: Ever since Chad Danforth was little there was always one person he could depend on: Troy Bolton. (this is not Chad x Troy I promise)

17. a voltron fic (the shame istg): The night had been beyond tiring.

18. The Last Six Years: “I assure you son, there is nothing wrong with Catholic Boarding school. Especially not when it is one of the finest institutes in the country.”

19. That one SBM Red Cross AU I started because I worked at the Red Cross ones: Originally, Gordie Lachance was not supposed to spend four weeks of his life at the Red Cross.

20. more lachambers: Gordie Lachance is the best person Chris Chambers has ever known.

I hope not a single soul read through these. My take away is that my stories are boring as fuck and I know now why I'm not a writing acc :))))

I tag @binarystarkillers @hotsaucecommittee & @yourtokentrophywife :)))))

#tag game

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hannahhook7744 · 2 years

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It's time, it's time, it's time;

Possible Merlin fanfic that I might write where the young side characters get reincarnated along with the knights. May or may not have a slight crossover/hints at a crossover with once upon a time.

But it would mainly show the random side characters along with the knights, Mordred, Will, and Morgana living their 2nd chance as they along with Merlin wait for Arthur to rise.

Title: It's time, it's time, it's time.

Tag list: @gwaine-lover .

Will be on here, ao3, and Wattpad.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #the knights of camelot #merlin fanfiction #merlin edits #merlin reincarnated #merlin reincarnation au #merlin reincarnation #merlin risen au #merlin au #merlin alternate universe #merlin fanfic

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devilrising · 4 years

Text

Fallen Draco, Pt. 16

This story is following a prompt set by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.

Word Count (Part 16): 3,015

Word Count (Total): 51,359

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic), coming out (kind of...)

***

27th April, 1998

Alarms blare loudly, ringing throughout the dark house. Why can’t I ever seem to get any sleep?! I scrub a hand down my face and groan. Something warm moves against my cheek and I’m instantly awake, reaching for my wand on the bedside table. But as my eyes adjust to the dark, I see that it’s Harry. Warmth rises up my face, a deep blush covering the skin.

“Using me as a pillow, were you?” Harry teases gently as he kisses my forehead. I melt against him for a second. Then the alarms register once again with a loud chime.

“What’s the alarm for?” I ask Harry in the dark, my voice scratchy and groggy with sleep.

“Shit!” Harry shouts, leaping out of bed and tugging me after him. “It’s Narcissa! She’s awake.”

“Mother’s awake?!” I yell out too and rush to put on my dressing gown. Harry kisses my hairline swiftly and tugs me more firmly out of the door.

Mother has been put in my old room—which of course I already knew, but it’s weird to be walking in that direction and expecting to see someone else in it—and my heart skips multiple beats as we walk ever closer. ‘Walk’ being the operative word. Harry’s strong grip on my arm is the only thing stopping me from running, but he thinks that that would probably startle her a bit too much at this hour.

“Harry?” I ask, coming to a rather absurd conclusion about exactly what hour it must be. “What’s the time?”

“Oh, um,” Harry pulls his wand out from his pyjama bottoms and casts a quick Tempus charm. I chuckle as the colour drains from his face. “It’s, uh- thirty six past seven…”

“We slept through the entire day,” I groan. It’s what I’d suspected. Harry, apparently wanting to make up for the lost day, quickens his pace and pulls me after him.

There is a dim light peeking out from under the bedroom door, and I force myself to count to four and just breathe for a second. There’s no telling how Mother might be on the other side of the door, and I can’t allow myself to believe that she’ll be fine. I need to be prepared for bad news, as much as I’d like the opposite for once. Harry pushes me in front of him and nods to the handle. He wants me to open it. I open my mouth, trying to think of something to say to thank him, but then decide that there aren't nearly enough words to convey it properly. So I lean close and capture his lips in a kiss, morning—or, evening?—breath be damned. Harry snakes his arms around my waist, but instead of pulling me closer like I’d expected, he pushes me away.

“Narcissa is much more important, you can thank me properly later.” I ignore the smirk behind his voice and turn the handle.

Light pours out of the room into the corridor, and my eyes instinctively shut with a snap to avoid going blind.

“Draco?”

“Mother,” I breathe out, relief flooding my thoughts. I step into the room, Harry’s hand finding a spot on my lower back. “How are you?” This is the first time I’ve spoken to her, with a chance she’ll actually respond, in weeks. Sure, talking to her unconscious body was communicating of a sort, but she couldn’t actually reply. It was more of a one-sided information dump than a conversation.

“I’m well, actually,” she stands up from where she was sitting on the bed and meets me in the middle of the room. Despite the fact that a little while ago she was fatally wounded and fast asleep, she looks very healthy right now. Her pale skin is no longer cloudy, but much more like porcelain, and her hair looks vibrant against her face. “How are you dear?”

I feel a warm blush creep up my neck. “I’m good, Mother,” I say, as I pointedly ignore Harry’s creeping hand roaming around my belt. “I have quite a lot to tell you though…”

“I can see that,” she responds with a matter-of-fact tone and raised eyebrows, as she looks at Harry with a thoughtful expression only visible through her eyes.

“Good evening, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry says with a smile and a nod. “I’m glad to see that you’ve recovered nicely.”

“Thank you, Mr Potter. I believe you had a lot to do with my rehabilitation.”

Harry nods again. “It’s no problem.” He then looks over at me and grins. “I should let you have some time with your son,” he suggests, still facing me but obviously addressing Mother. His hand pulls away from my back, and I force myself not to react at the loss of contact.

Mother looks at me with a knowing gaze, a small smile setting in place as Harry leaves the room. “Now, tell me everything dear.”

I swallow hard, wondering where on earth to start. Eventually I settle on unwrapping the glamours around my wings. I didn’t even know they were in place until I had to remove them. Harry must have set them up, so as not to bombard Mother when she has just woken again. I wait, my nerves digging into my heart and clawing at me. As I feel the first brush of air against my feathers, Mother gasps. Unfortunately, I also hear the sound of fabric ripping open. There goes my dressing gown and Harry’s shirt. Distantly, I think to myself that I must remember to mend them.

“Draco!” She murmurs in amazement, awe evident in her voice. “Oh Merlin, they’re gorgeous!” She places her hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes with a joyous gaze. “They are so white,” she murmurs. “Can I touch them?”

I could never deny her that, not when she’s looking at me like I’m her entire purpose in life. “Of course,” I whisper, terrified of shattering the moment and making her turn away. I’ve always hated her shields, the way she hides everything from the world. So now that they aren’t there, I don’t want to make her raise them.

Mother smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim bedroom light. She spins me around, her hands switching shoulders as I face the doorway.

“Wow…” she breathes, running a reverent hand along the top of my right wing. The feathers tickle and twitch, eliciting a shudder at the odd sensation. I might never get used to it, but I will always allow it. “They are so soft, Draco.”

I hum in agreement, and her hand traces lines towards the outside of my wing. She runs it down the outside arc, smoothing down feathers as she goes. Another hand joins in, and now I have hands on both of my wings. My left is definitely more sensitive, I realise as Mother gently caresses it. I nearly moan out loud, but catch myself in the last second. That would have been embarrassing.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco,” Mother confesses when she turns me back around to face her. Her eyes are shining, a smile firmly pressed onto her lips. She’s willingly letting me see her, letting me understand her emotions. I pull her into a crushing hug, uncaring of the fact that we haven’t ever done this before.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I finally concede. A tear tracks down my cheek, leaving behind a shining trail.

Mother’s hand finds my hair, and she runs her fingers through it. “I’m here, Draco. Very much present, dear.” Her own tears fall out of her eyes, but I pointedly ignore the wetness I feel against my cheek. We don’t talk about things like this, so I don’t want to scare her off by acknowledging it. I might not be able to cope with that either.

“Why don’t you tell me about how you Rose?” Mother pulls away from the hug, rapidly turning around and walking back to the bed. She takes a second to compose herself as she sits, before offering me the armchair in the corner. “And about Mr. Potter, perhaps?”

I can hear the teasing in the second part of the question and stifle a groan. “Mother,” I whine.

“Now now, Draco. It’s perfectly natural.” I cringe at her tone. She only ever uses it when we’re talking about embarrassing subjects. “So, you’re a Risen Angel now. How did that come about?”

I heave a sigh of relief as the tone shifts and becomes more inquisitive. “As you know, I Fell in the Manor earlier this year,” I start.

Mother nods. “Yes, Lucius loved telling me all about it.” Her lips curl into a sneer of disgust. I’m sure that one day my parents loved each other, but those days ended when we were abused and tortured by his wand.

“Well, I managed to get a letter out to Harry, and he was able to bring me here,” I gesture around vaguely at Grimmauld Place. “Ever since then, I’ve been helping him win this war. The right side, this time,” I chuckle nervously. “With each piece of information I gave, or each mission we succeeded in, I slowly started Rising.”

Mother takes a minute to digest that, swallowing hard and wrapping her mind around it. “What was the Rising process like?” She asks eventually.

“Awful,” I laugh. “It started with growing the skeleton out of my back. It didn’t just slide out like in folktales, but my skin was torn open. Very painful.” I end the description there. Mother never has been good with blood, which I thought was rather ironic considering she prided herself on her pure blood. Prided, not prides. There is nothing to be proud about if that same pride results in genocide. “After that the feathers started to grow. Each time the skeleton folded back inside my skin and then re-emerged. It never became any less painful,” I say. “Actually, my feathers only became this white yesterday,” I explain. “I’m still quite sore, but Harry healed me quite well.”

“Is there anything different about it? I always thought that if an angel Fell, the chance of them Rising again was quite slim.”

It’s a good question. Once she found out what I was, she had been confused. For a start, being an angel is very rare. But even more so, being a male angel was one in a million. Probably more than. Mother had taken it into her hands to discover as much as possible in order to protect me. When I Fell, it had seemed like all of her hard work had been for nothing. Now that I’m sitting here in front of her, very much alive and healthy, she wants new answers. Ones that will explain our situation properly.

“Harry took me to a bookshop a few weeks ago, I believe it was the twelfth. Anyway, it was massive, with an even bigger collection of books. There was an entire section on Magical Creatures, and Harry managed to find a couple on Fallen Angels.”

Mother’s eyes widen, surprised to hear how easily we found information. That only lasts a moment though, replaced quickly with suspicion. “What is it, Draco? There’s something you’re not saying.”

I sigh. She always manages to pick me apart without much effort. “Yes. Last night Harry and I stayed up researching specifically about Risen Angels. We found that certain, uh, types of Risen Angels have unique abilities. Harry managed to narrow it down to about five types, and then I figured out which one I am.”

“And which one would that be?” Mother looks anxious, awaiting for my answer.

“I’m a Blackout Angel,” I explain. “I can control and warp light in any way imaginable.”

“Draco, do you know what this could mean for the war?” Her eyes have lit up now, like she’s delighted with this turn of events.

I sigh. “I do, but I’m not sure I’ll manage.” It feels weird, saying these words aloud. Harry would swat them away and assure me that we’ll figure it out, but Mother will be honest.

“Of course you will!” She exclaims. Well there goes that idea. “Draco dear, you were the top of all of your classes—except for that Granger girl who, let's be honest, won’t ever be beaten—and no one else has the ability to learn at the speed you do.” Mother shifts her hand to rest on my knee. “You will do fine, dear.”

I nod absentmindedly, not quite agreeing with her but not wanting to argue.

Mother breaks the silence, a random question filling the quiet. “Can I see?”

I tip my head to the right, eyebrows furrowing. “See what?”

“The skin. I want to check the healing process.” Ah, of course. Mother has always been rather adamant about checking injuries. Especially if they were caused by the man she married, or anyone else out of that group of monsters. I’m amazed she managed to sit through an explanation without jumping out of her skin.

“Well, you can try to look I guess. I can’t promise you’ll see anything.” I stand from the armchair and untie the dressing gown I’d put on a few minutes ago. It falls to the ground after a second of twisting it around my wings, leaving me in Harry’s cozy shirt. I feel a pang of regret as I spell it off me, the holes ripped in to compensate for my wings glaring up at me, but fold it neatly regardless. I take a second to pull my tracksuits up slightly, making sure they don’t ride down too low on my hips. Happy that I won’t accidentally flash my mother, I spin around and crouch before her.

Her cold hand gently touches my back, letting me know she’s started. From there, it slowly crosses my skin, inching towards the base of my wings. The inch of bare bone still juts out sharply, but now there is some kind of leathery skin covering it. Mother prises the feathers back and peers at my skin. Her fingertip traces the fragile skin, spiralling ever closer to the base. I flinch at a sudden twinge of sharp pain, and the hand instantly withdraws.

“Are you okay?” Mother asks in a quiet voice.

“Fine,” I reply. “Just a bit tender.”

She hums, but turns me around all the same. “You’ve got some bruising, but it should go down with time,” she says. “It seems that Mr. Potter has done a lovely job.”

I smile to myself at her casual approval of Harry, and redress quickly. After spelling the clothes to fit over my wings without tearing them—any more than they already are—I sit back down in the armchair and look at my mother.

“On the topic of Mr. Potter,” she starts. I stifle another groan. “What exactly is happening there?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat trying to prevent me talking. I shake my head and work out an answer that won’t give too much away immediately. “We’re close.”

Mother rolls her eyes in a display very unlike her. “Draco, dear, we both know that’s rubbish.”

I open my mouth to try to argue, but she gives me a pointed look. Sighing, I say, “Okay. We are very close.”

Mother looks on the verge of breaking. “Draco, you’re dating. You can’t disregard the way you look at each other.” She tips her head, analysing me in a rather unsettling way. “You also can’t ignore his hand on your lower back, and the way he tried really hard to make sure I was alright.” She pauses. “Plus, he truly has done a marvellous job on your back.”

Heaving a sigh, I crack. “Okay, yes. We’re together.”

“Perfect!” Mother exclaims.

“What?!” I ask. “Aren’t you angry? I’m gay, Mother!”

“Of course you’re gay dear, I was never questioning that.” She looks surprised at my outburst, like she thought I was insane for thinking she didn’t already know.

“Then why were you so insistent on marrying me off to a pureblood bride?”

“Oh Draco, that was what Lucius wanted, not me. I always thought that was old-fashioned.”

“But you never said anything!” I’m confused, not able to absorb any of the information.

“Correct. I couldn’t possibly refuse him, he would have put plans in place for the marriage regardless of what I said.” She pauses again, a glint taking over in her blue eyes. “Now though, he has no say over your life.”

I feel a small bubble of joy well up in my chest, and I allow a grin to spread over my mouth. “Thank you Mother.”

She smiles softly, and shuffles over on the bed so she’s sitting closer to me. Her hand rises and moves to my cheek. She smooths it over my skin in a way she hasn’t since I was a young child. “I am proud of you, Draco,” she says. “Proud of the fact that you managed to Rise, proud that you’ve finally found someone who makes you happy, and proud that you are helping the right side of the war win. You will single-handedly turn your fate away from the path your father and I put you on.”

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, and I rapidly blink them away. Mother has never said that before. “Th- Thank you,” I stutter out.

She offers me another smile before standing from the bed. “Now, I’m hungry and am going to fix myself a meal. Would you and Mr. Potter like one too?”

I grin back. “Harry and I would love to join you for dinner.”

She accepts my correction of Harry’s name with a nod and a smile, and turns to leave the room. As she gets to the doorway, she pauses. “Would you mind giving me directions to the kitchen, dear?”

I chuckle beneath my breath and tell her how to get there, as well as where the bathroom is in regards to the kitchen. She nods once more and makes her way down the hallway and then the stairs.

***

A/N: Two days late... Sorry for the delay, but I was really tired and didn’t want to put something out that I wasn’t happy with. I hope you’re doing well and that you’re staying safe Xx

Masterlist — Previous Part — Next Part

@draconianhorntail @p3trovass @cowboy-simp @queeneyart @ohheavenlylord @h0pehauntedmyw0rld @unsolicted-chick-picks @itsclayclay @harrybpoetry @slash-slut @jianing2603 @magical-fairy-princess-stuff @give-me-the-queer @youmakeprettybeautiful @hello-i-am-moi @slytherclaw134689 @sinnysin-sin @lafilleetlechatnoir @absolutetrashcan @irrelevantdrarry @glo-up-goddess @birdy1032 @d-addict @pizzasandwich72 @madison-is-a-small-baby @joshoriande @sugarhoneyice-t @imaginemymemories @shipperofalltheships @uniiicornen @thewanderingnomadsworld @randominternetloser @levi7755 @localxmermaid @biyaaaaaaaaaa @just-some-bibliophile @pizzabitch @champagnemonarch

#devilrising #fallen draco #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #fic rec #tw: long post

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ao3feed-merlinarthur · 4 years

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by fandomshaveruinedme

n every King Arthur myth, after he is killed by Mordred, it is said that he will one day return when Camelot is at its greatest need. Merlin has waited 1000 years for the return of his king. Now, Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table have risen, and have to adjust to modern day life. Not only that, but they must figure out why they were brought back now, what beast is lurking in the shadows?

This is a modern AU I based off of the characters from Merlin and King Arthur myths and stuff

Words: 3502, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Merlin (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin), Guinevere (Arthurian), Gwen (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table (Merlin)

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, merthur if you squint, Resurrection, Return of Arthur, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur, Protective Merlin, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Character Death, Canon Temporary Character Death, Can be platonic relationship, Merlin Has Magic (Merlin), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Merlin has Trauma, Everybody Lives, Except Gaius

#AO3 works tagged 'Merlin/Arthur Pendragon'#ao3feed #merthur #ao3feed merthur #ao3feed merlinarthur

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sapphicambitions · 5 years

Note

au where merlin after arthur's death, lived as a bunch of different people: ie every movie/show colin morgan acted in was actually the lives merlin's lived through and finally now Arthur has risen and he's Very Confused

Kcnsnxianjajnfjs my heart

#lesbianlaynie #laynie rose answers

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anorakofavalon · 5 years

Text

Another Way

Reveal AU -- 3x02 -- The Tears of Uther Pendgragon Part 2

Merlin x Morgana

My little twist on it is where the reveal took place. I tried to seek a very terribly timed but still somewhat thematically appropriate place to place a reveal, and I decided on early-to-mid season 3. Because here Morgana is definitely edgier and a little more evil, but still has the potential for good. Idk, I think it’s an interesting line to walk. I hope you enjoy! I might make a couple more based off of this one if the response is good :)

“I thought… because she has magic, I thought we were the same”

“In some ways you are.”

“No. I will never be like her.”

“You have learnt an important lesson, Merlin. Your determination to see goodness in people will be your undoing. But I fear that your futures are now joined forever. She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love.”

He felt the darkness course through the roots, the very foundations of Camelot. It spread its way through the Earth, the soil of the city, and up through his body. His head lashed back of its own accord. It clawed up the walls, rumbling in its wake, and then the towers. He felt it reach the sky and thunder roared.

Merlin grimaced and began to run. The dead had risen, and he knew very well who did it.

~{(0)}~

He turned a corner, taking his pained breathing as yet further inspiration to get to his destination quickly. Every footfall took more from his reserves than any spell ever did.

“There are times, Merlin, when you display a sort of... I don't know what it is. I don't want to say... it's not wisdom. But, yes. That's what it is.”

It was a tad bit ironic, given what he was about to do. Arthur wouldn’t be all too happy, probably. But still... He flung his arm out and pulverized a skeleton, and another when it moved to block his path. He took a distinct, twisted pleasure in launching one out of a window. He would have to apologize to Arthur’s ancestors later.

“I don't have time. I need to get back to Camelot. The kingdom is in danger and...it's my fault. I should've listened to you. Should never have trusted Morgana.”

“You did what you felt was right, and that shows great courage, but trust is a double edged sword.”

He stood before the entrance to the catacombs. The gates were flung open, shredded by a force he knew to be magic. It lingered in the air, thick as the darkness he descended into. Merlin’s eyes were golden as he calmly took the steps down. There were skeletons hidden in the darkness but he did not bother with his hands. His magic tore them apart as he passed them.

There was light as he reached the bottom. It was unearthly, pale, a shadow of the sun’s own rays. The magic was putrid and foul and older than Kilgharrah himself. Merlin unsheathed his blade, useless as it would be. His steps were quiet as he turned the corner and saw her standing there. She was bathed in the light of shadows, a vision of twisted beauty. He knew whose fault that was.

He noted the wooden staff in the center of the room, from which the light had been birthed. Its form was as twisted as Morgana’s smile when her head turned to him. He knew from her eyes that she was beginning to comprehend just how significant he was, in the scheme of things. She was beginning to comprehend that he would never stop trying to stop her. She would be right.

Still, her old confidence hadn’t left her, warped as it had begun to become. “You should leave, while you still can.”

The castle rumbled in distress. Lightning’s light striking at the illumination of the moon. Brighter, angrier, more vicious. He thought, briefly, of Nimueh. Was he the lightning? Or was Morgana? Was she the moon and he the sky? The sky thundered, and his heart did too.

“Morgana, please. I beg you. Women and children are dying. The city will fall.”

She didn’t falter much. “Good.”

Merlin wanted to huff, but that would hardly make things better. She was bluffing and he knew it. But still, his voice wavered. “No, you don’t mean that.”

She faltered then. “I have magic, Merlin. Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?”

It was strange that she was seeking validation from him, pleading in her own way. Not that she knew what that was like. Morgana had never had to beg for a thing in her life.

“You of all people could change Uther’s mind, but doing this? Using magic like this will only harden his heart.”

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “You don’t have magic, Merlin. How could you even hope to understand?”

And there it was, the moment of truth. She would hate him, if he told her the truth. If she didn’t already. Merlin wondered if she had truly forgiven him for poisoning her. Did she understand? Would she have done the same? He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Kilgharrah and Gaius weighed heavily on his mind. She would tell Uther, or worse still, Arthur.

“I do understand, believe me. If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That’s what magic should be for. That’s why you were born with these powers.”

She could scream in frustration, he could tell. He probably could scream in frustration too, but she couldn’t tell. He had been wearing a mask for longer.

She fumed. “You don’t know what it’s like to be an outsider. To be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are. Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?”

His first memories were of being caressed and cuddled and coddled by his mother Hunith. She was a sweet woman who worked hard and gave him everything she could. His second memories were of his delight when he could summon toys to his hand, when he made candles glow. His third memories were of being called a bastard and not knowing what it meant, except that it made his mother cry.

He remembered being called a demon child. The other children told him he was born in a lightning storm, that he was evil. And when he cried, when he wailed because the things they said hurt, the skies would darken, and rain would fall, and the other children would run to their own families. And lightning would hammer the earth.

They got bolder as they got older though, and Merlin meeker. They would hurt him. They’d push him, punch him. They would throw things at him, too. Sometimes they made him bleed and he wanted nothing more than to hurt them in return but he wouldn’t. Because he was desperate to prove that he wasn’t a monster. He was just a normal boy.

But he wasn’t and he never would be. And he hid his magic, as best he could. But it was never enough. It always slipped from his tight, white-knuckled grasp. It struck out when he most desperately wished that it wouldn’t. And everytime the villagers became more suspicious. Not just resentful of him, but his own mother as well, for spawning a demon.

And his only reprieve from that pain had been Will, who joked him through it. Who took the blame for some of the mischief that Merlin’s magic caused. Will never treated him differently. He never lied to Merlin. Will had died for Merlin. If Merlin didn’t have a friend like Will, who risked a lot and risked it often for his sake, then Merlin would never have made it to Camelot.

Morgana never had that. He could have been that, but he was afraid. He was a coward, Merlin knew as much. Will wouldn’t have poisoned his friend. He would have found another way. But Merlin didn’t. He betrayed Morgana when she had put her entire life in his hand, and he crushed it.

The rumbling brought his attention back. Her eyes were studying his own. Her pupils were dilated and searching him for the truth. For once in his life, the truth. He would give it to her.

His voice cracked. “No, Morgana, you don’t deserve to be executed for who you are. No one does.”

Her eyes widened slightly. He had caught her completely off guard. She had expected him to condemn her for having magic. Is that what he had become?

He continued. “But it doesn’t have to be like this.” He stepped closer. “We can find another way.”

They stared at each other for a moment. For one brief second, a minute, a breath, they hoped that what he said was true.

“There is no other way.” Her voice was soft, but heavy with conviction.

He nodded at her words, and stepped back. She knew he wouldn’t give up. He made a move for the rowan staff, just to get her on the defensive. She had a sword raised quickly, and he did as well. He tapped his blade to hers and the fighting began. It was a bit of a performance on both their parts. He wasn’t aiming to harm her, and for some reason she wasn’t either.

Merlin smirked a little bit. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

Morgana got a little competitive, but she was amused. “You don’t think I can?”

They struck at each other strongly, but not as strong as either of them should have. The crack of thunder outside dispelled any of Morgana’s hesitations or distractions. She struck her first true blow, and he blocked it. They weren’t playing anymore.

He went on the offensive, striking at her head from above, she blocked it and took advantage of his close proximity. She twisted her body around and moved to strike at his abdomen. Merlin jumped back, but the tip cut at his shirt and grazed his skin.

Morgana showed surprise. “You’ve gotten handy with a sword since I’ve been gone, Merlin.”

He pointed at the cut. “Not handy enough.”

She grinned despite herself. But not for long. She tacked on a little grimace and decided to bite at him. “Awfully good with poison though, I’ll tell you that.”

His face flickered as if she had struck him with the sword. It was the worst possible time for a conversation. The castle was under siege, Arthur could have been hurt. But Merlin felt it in his heart.

He dropped his sword. “I didn’t want to. You were my friend. You are still my friend, Morgana.”

She gaped at his dropped sword. He was clearly full of surprises. But she wouldn’t allow him the chance to blindside her. “So what happened Merlin? Couldn’t find another way? Or maybe you just wanted me to die because I had magic.”

He frowned. “Is that what you think of me, Morgana?”

“It’s what you’ve shown to me. Friend.”

She moved forward with her blade aimed at his throat. He didn’t move.

“If you’re going to kill me, make it quick.”

She was puzzled once more, but she didn’t show it this time.

“Why should I?”

The blade was touching his skin now.

“Because if you don’t I will stop you.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that, Merlin? You’re useless even with a sword.”

She was baiting Merlin, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He nudged the blade away from his throat and began to move forward.

“Because I do know what it’s like to be an outsider. I do know what it’s like to be ashamed of how I was born. And I already do have to hide who I am every day. Every. Single. Day.”

He was a step away from her, and she was looking up at him, startled but entranced by the way he spoke. This was no serving boy speaking.

“I can’t let anybody else get hurt Morgana. I’m a protector. I protected you too, once. I’m sorry that you made me hurt you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good friend to you. But I can’t let this go on.”

She moved to stab him but he knocked her away with a flash of his eyes. Not very much, not very hard, but enough that she was at a safe distance.

Her eyes didn’t turn gold in return. She was as stuck in place as the staff in the center of the room, staring at him. The room felt different. The magic shifted, and the torches became lit all at once, contrasting the pale light of the moon with a fiery hue. Merlin stood straighter, as if he was at last being honest with himself, admitting to a heritage older than time.

He locked a look with her, and gave her a moment to sear the gold of his eyes in her memory for all of time. He reached towards the rowan staff from where he stood, and pulled it towards him with magic. It flew to him with little hesitation, as if it had always been his servant. He took it in his hands firmly, and something gave in the atmosphere. The dark magic bristled, afraid of what was to come, but powerless to do anything about it, like Morgana herself.

Merlin raised a knee and slammed the staff to it, and with a spark, he tore it in half. Morgana recalled the sheer power of the staff. When Morgause gave it to her it hummed in her hands, prickling at where she held it like a thousand needles.

“I’m not powerful enough to wield this, Morgause.”

“Do not worry my dear, that staff was crafted from the Rowan tree in the center of the Isle of the Blessed. It carries its own power. None have laid eyes on it except for our kind, the High Priestesses, and the blood god that planted it.”

Her disbelief was immense as the darkness receded from the sky. She and he both felt it retreat from the towers and the walls of the castle. They felt it abandon the undead it had summoned. They felt it rush down through the soiled soil and into the catacombs, to attack Merlin.

Wind rushed through, the only sign of the physical manifestation of the evil Morgana had summoned. And yet, somehow, Merlin stood calmly in the center, and with his glowing eyes silenced it once and for all, without moving or flinching.

It was dreadfully quiet, and Morgana hated it because she was certain that even he could hear her heart pumping. Could sense her fear. And still his eyes were glowing, as if mocking her and apologizing all at once. As he stood before her, the flames of the torches framing his figure, she wondered if he had planted the rowan tree himself.

But her awe at his power was short-lived as the gold receded from his eyes and he looked more like Merlin and less like Death. When he stared at her with those insufferably blue eyes, when he moved to help her up, only then could she bring herself to burn with the anger that she was feeling.

Merlin had magic.

Merlin had magic, and he killed her.

She trusted him, and he did not trust her. The betrayal pulled at her throat more than the hemlock ever could have.

Her eyes water and she stood up, still holding the sword at him. It was useless of course, they both knew it. Even her magic would have been useless. But she held it up against him anyways.

“How many?” She demanded. Her voice was raw with anger. “How many of our kin did you betray? How many have you sacrificed to Uther’s hatred Merlin?”

Merlin flinched. “Just you.”

That had hurt her in ways she was not prepared for.

“How many have you killed for his sake?”

“Too many Morgana. But not for Uther’s sake. Never for Uther’s sake.”

“Then for who? Arthur?”

Merlin nodded. “He is destined to bring magic back to Camelot, Morgana. I have to protect him. He’s my friend.”

She reeled. “So was I.”

Merlin couldn’t respond to that. His heart was thudding in his chest. His throat was constricted. This was a terrible idea, but Morgana had to know.

“You’re a monster Merlin.”

His face crumpled. “I didn’t want to poison you, Morgana.”

“That’s not what this is about Merlin!” She screamed. “You knew. You knew I had magic. You could have helped me and you-you...” She glared at him. “You pawned me off for the druids to deal with. And you got them all killed. You did that Merlin. That was you. I’ve lived with it for years but it was never my guilt to hold.”

She was up close and personal now, pounding her fist on his chest with every accusation.

He let her. What she said was nothing new. “Yes, Morgana. I’ve done terrible things, I know that. But I’m trying. I’m trying really hard to change things.”

He could feel the heat of her tears as they dripped down her face. “How could you do this, Merlin?”

She stared at him, desperate for an answer for the sake of her own sanity.

“I-” Merlin did not like how he was at a loss for words. Arthur and the knights were probably still fighting. He decided he needed to sit.

He moved towards one of the tombs and sat on it, his hands clasped together. Her eyes followed him, brows knit together.

“I would say...” he began carefully, “that it wasn’t my choice. But that’s not true. It has been my choice.”

She began to open her mouth to say something but Merlin cut her off. “I’m not talking about poisoning you Morgana. I really did have no choice then. If I didn’t do it, Morgause wouldn’t have stopped the siege of the city.”

She offered nothing to that, which he supposed was a sort of permission to continue.

“I have been able to do magic since I was a baby. I did magic while still in a cradle. I could make things fly, or light up candles.”

Tears had stopped streaming down her face, and now she was listening. Guarded, but curious. If anyone deserved an explanation it was her.

“I was always told that I was a monster, Morgana. You’re just another person in a long line of people. I had to leave Ealdor when I was nineteen because if I didn’t, bad things would happen...” He let that hang in the air. “My mother sent me to Gaius. He’s her uncle, and a good friend. She sent me here to Camelot because I needed to learn to control my magic and nobody else could teach me. Let alone in Ealdor.”

He thought, for a moment, that her eyes softened. Her face resolved to neutrality soon enough.

He tapped the tomb with his fingers. “When I stepped through the gates the first person I met was Gwen. She was so kind. As we entered the citadel, do you know what the first thing I saw was Morgana? I saw you, looking down at the execution of Thomas Collins. For having magic.”

He huffed. “I came from a place where having magic made me a demon, and waltzed into the heart of a kingdom where having magic made me a dead man instead. Gaius told me as much. I saved his life with magic, and the very first thing he did was tell me off.”

Merlin laughed to himself. “He still does that. But he’s not the only one… On my first night, a voice called my name. I went down to the caverns and I met a dragon.”

She gasped, her first reaction. “It was you, you released the dragon while I was away. Gwen told me about it.”

Merlin nodded. “That was a mistake.” He looked at her intently. “One of very many of my mistakes, Morgana. But that first night he told me I was destined to bring magic back to the land. But he told me I could only do it through Arthur. If I was to fulfill my destiny, I needed to protect Arthur.”

He sighed. “And so I did. Not only because it was my destiny, but because Arthur became a friend. And despite everything, sometime I see him and I just know that… he is the king we’ve been waiting for.”

“He’s Uther’s son, Merlin.” Morgana snapped.

“He’s much more than that Morgana. And you know it.”

She changed the pace. “And what else did the lizard happen to say?”

Merlin quirked a quick smirk at hearing Kilgharrah called a lizard, but he answered her. “He answered my questions mostly, and sometimes he warned me about things… and he was wrong.”

Morgana watched him warily. “Like not telling me about my magic. That was his directive, I presume?”

“No.” Merlin said. “His directive was for me to kill you. Or to let you die.”

Her mouth opened at that but she didn’t say anything.

“He told me, Morgana, that you were destined for darkness. I told him you had a good heart.”

Merlin stood up and approached her. She didn’t move. “It wasn’t only until you began to meet with Morgause that I suspected maybe he wasn’t wrong.”

Morgana glared at him. “Oh? I’m the evil one? It seems to me that I was just making your job easier. By killing Uther, Arthur could be king.”

Merlin shook his head. “If you killed Uther, Morgana, if you did it with magic… Arthur would never accept it. He would become just like his father. Arthur has made great strides but he’s not ready to become king yet.”

“So you’re just going to wait until Uther dies of old age? You’re going to let our people suffer for that long in order to preserve Arthur’s innocence? I thought you were a coward but it turns out you were just a fool. You went to a dragon for advice and listened. Like a puppy.”

“I listened to you, too,” he shrugged “whenever you had a vision, I acted on it.”

She was brought up short for a moment but brought it around to the offensive. “And yet you couldn’t tell me about your magic.”

“Don’t you think I wanted to Morgana?”

“Clearly not all that much if the fact that it took me raising an army of the undead is any indication.”

Merlin groaned. “Morgana I’ve been alone all of my life. Nobody to tell my secret to. Nobody to share myself with. I had Will, and my mother before, but they didn’t have magic they couldn’t understand. Gaius doesn’t practice anymore. And anybody else just...died. For my sake. Or because of a curse. Or because I had to stop them from hurting Arthur.”

He looked up at her. “But then there you were with your visions. I suspected, I hoped, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe. Until that night that you told me what you suspected. And suddenly I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Because you were my friend Morgana. You risked your life going to Ealdor to fight for me, a servant. And you had magic.”

There wasn’t any particular emotion on Morgana’s face, except for perhaps the shadow of a smile that flickered on her lips as she recalled the day she went to Ealdor.

“I wanted to tell you so badly, but… Well, my excuse was, is, that all my life I had been told not to tell anyone. Since I was a small child. I have always lived in fear. It’s...it’s not an easy thing to admit for me. And you’re the king’s ward, Morgana. Add that to the fact that the dragon insisted you were evil and I...”

He motioned to her. “I failed as a friend, and I chose not to tell you. And I’m sorry. But I’m telling you now. You’re the first person from Camelot I’ve willingly told.”

She stared at him evenly for a few moments. “So what now, Merlin? I can’t stop. I’m too far gone. And I don’t think you will stop protecting Arthur either.”

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you tell me this?”

“Because you deserve it, Morgana. You’re still good. You trusted me and I hurt you. So now I’m trusting you.”

“You’re an idiot Merlin.” She bit. “If I tell Arthur, you will be executed or exiled. Do you think he will forgive you? You just gave me the key to winning Camelot. What will she do without its protector?”

“Arthur wouldn’t kill me. He would be hurt that I haven’t told him. Conflicted. But he wouldn’t kill me. Just know, Camelot will always have my protection.”

Morgana bristled, working herself up again. “What has this kingdom done for you that I haven’t? Why do they deserve your help anymore than I do?”

Merlin didn’t answer her question, choosing to answer the unaired one instead. “I told you about my magic because we could find another way, Morgana. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

She sheathed her sword. “They’ll be looking for me.”

Merlin nodded.

They assessed one another until Merlin spoke.”Will you tell Morgause?”

“I don’t know.” Morgana said.

Merlin nodded, and decided to grin, despite his rapidly beating heart. “Just remember, if Arthur banishes me, there will be no one to help him put on his night shift or keep his figure trim. The last time I was gone for more than twenty four hours he couldn’t even find his sock drawer.”

Morgana stared at him incredulously as he suddenly disappeared, taking the torchlight with him. She almost couldn’t help the giggle that came out of her mouth. She was horrified and confused, and very much in need of a nap. But she did wonder just how much Merlin had given up for Camelot. What was his play? Why would he tell her about his magic?

Arthur burst into the catacombs in a panic with wild eyes, and she startled. When he saw her the relief on his face was somewhat… heartwarming.

“Morgana! You’re safe!” His eyes wandered around the room and landed on the rowan staff. Her heart leapt up in panic, but he came to a different assumption than what she feared. “Did… did you stop the undead? With… that?” His eyes went to her sword.

She couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Is it so surprising? I used to beat you in fights all the time when we were younger.”

He shook his head disbelievingly. “Okay, uh, we have to tell father about this.”

She nodded, clenching her jaw.

Arthur began to turn around towards the stairs but stopped and said something unexpected. “Morgana? Good job. I’m glad to have you back.”

Her face made a humble smile, and she felt a small rush of affection for her brother. “I’m glad to be back.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Right, well, you wouldn’t have happened to have seen my idiot manservant would you? He’s always in the most unlikely of places after these sorts of things. Wouldn’t have been surprised if he had tripped his way down here.”

Morgana froze a little. She could have told him then and there Merlin’s secret. Even blamed the staff on him. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to strategize.

She laughed. “Not that I noticed.”

They began to head up the stairs. Morgana knew only one thing. She would be sharing some more words with Merlin.

For better or worse, this was far from over. But maybe… maybe they could find another way.

#mergana #merlin x morgana #bbcmerlin #katie mcgrath #merlin #colin morgan

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