#one more fun fact: they used to shove broken glass into his arm instead of the barbed wire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silverskye13 · 2 years

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I love how all the hermits and hels have different relationships with each other!! Like the hels are all mirrors of their respective person and how the different hermits interact with them is so cool! Also Tango straight up snatching his hels is hilarious, imagine if ren or wels walked in on them building it would be fantastic. Or tango just randomly yoinking tanguish when he needs help escaping something. They seem like a fun duo! :D

Tanguish was a bad helsmit. That wasn't opinion, or conjecture, or bad self-esteem or even really up for debate. It was just a statement of fact. He didn't mean to be. Really. It wasn't a decision he made one day, though liability was in him somewhere. He hadn't admitted it to himself yet, and probably he would someday. The fact remained though. For better or for worse, he was a bad hels. He was just made that way.

---

"Get back here you little thief!" Helsknight screamed, pounding after him down the street. Tanguish flinched and dashed around a corner, clutching the knight's coin purse tight in his claws. He laughed, but it was less the exhilarated thrill-laugh of victory and more the odd-squeak shrill of barely contained panic. This was bad? Yeah, this was bad.

(He definitely shouldn't have stolen from the second scariest helsmet he knew of. But he couldn't help himself! It'd been right there, out in the open. Helsknight should know better. You don’t just leave your coin purse dangling on your hip at perfect stealing height! It’s like putting a wallet in your back pocket: you’re not exactly asking to get robbed, but you’re sure as hels not making it hard!)

Tanguish skid down an alley, vaulted nimbly over a wall, and let out a horrified gasp when the crash of armor told him Helsknight was still right behind him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Tanguish gasped. "You can afford to lose it though!"

"You'll be losing your head when I catch you!" Helsknight snarled from, really, unacceptably close behind him. Tanguish had about half a breath to think, ‘Oh, he runs faster than me,’ before Helsknight tackled him from behind, and they went tumbling to the ground. The offending coin purse slipped from Tanguish’s hands and scattered diamonds onto the dirty cobblestones in a way that reminded him of someone muddying a stained glass window - mildly blasphemous, but still kinda pretty, all things considered.

(This was, in hindsight, a very dumb thing to be paying attention to when there was a large, angry knight shoving an armored knee into his left kidney, but he had his priorities).

Helsknight braced a hand against Tanguish’s shoulder and pulled the other back for a punch, “I’m gonna--!”

“Heyyyyy Tanguish!” a familiar, chipper voice piped up in Tanguish’s head. “Buddy, pal, you doing anything right now? I could use a ha-”

“Yes I’d love to help!” Tanguish shouted, shielding his face from Helsknight’s fist. The steel gauntlet arched towards him and Tanguish screwed his eyes shut. A hand, all claws and no gauntlet, clamped on his arm and yanked. His stomach leaped into his throat as he felt himself suddenly falling.

If Tanguish hadn’t just disappeared through his barely-present reflection in a facet of one of Helsknight’s diamonds, he would’ve watched Helsknight punch the nether brick of the alley floor so hard it cracked the tile. He would’ve watched Helsknight snarl and shake his fist, and curse as he tried to unbend the metal of his gauntlet from where it was now shaped to every knuckle. Then he would’ve seen Helsknight stand, kick a nearby trash can so hard it crumpled like a can of soda, and pick up his diamonds and his spilled coin purse. (Or, more realistically, if Tanguish hadn’t just fallen through his reflection guided by Tango’s hand, he would have instead been punched so hard in the face he’d lose six memories, three ounces of his dwindling common sense, and his claim to having never broken his nose. As fate would have it though, Tanguish was pulled through his reflection from the hels dimension straight into Hermitcraft at his double’s behest, so he saw none of these things.)

Most of the other helsmets knew when, why, how they were made. There was, for example, The Red King. He was made during Third Life, a last-ditch effort to protect something precious, a sacrifice on a black altar. There was Helsknight, made when Welsknight’s many fears and shortcomings finally grew a spine and started walking, because he wouldn’t confront them any other way. Cleo was made to honor a death game, and split from her hermit when that death game ended for her, and now she stood as a monument to ZombieCleo’s losses. JoeKills was… well… he was a lot of things. There were many more helsmets and hels denizens and dark mirrors and evil halves that lived in hels, and all of them seemed to know what they were about.

Tanguish didn’t know when, or why, or how he was, really. He knew what he was - he was a helsmet. There was nothing else he could really be. He knew some of Tango’s Last Life memories, but he didn’t think he was made because of them. He remembered helping Tango with Decked Out, and that had certainly happened before Last Life. It was more like, those memories brought Tanguish into focus, like he was a list of shortcomings simmering in the background before suddenly stumbling into the light. If he thought about it really hard, and guessed as best as he could, he might say he was born from Tango’s sacrifices. His unwilling sacrifices. From playing second fiddle to everyone else’s more compelling volitions. Tanguish thought this made the most sense. He was, in fact, very good at playing second best to Tango.

Tanguish tumbled out of Tango’s reflection in an ice pillar and fell with a startled ‘oof!’ onto cold stone. He opened his eyes, took a breath to say something, and then slammed it shut again when a loud roar reverberated around the artificial cavern. Tanguish looked at Tango backing away in the snow, looked to the towering creature lumbering towards him, and thought maybe he would’ve preferred the broken nose waiting for him in hels. Most people preferred broken bones to facing down an entire Warden. (Tango wasn't most people.)

Tanguish scrambled to his feet and ran, snatching Tango’s wrist as he did so. The pair of them sprinted wordlessly, which didn’t really matter, since the Warden had immaculate hearing, and the sound of their breathing and footsteps served it just fine. The Warden howled, an ear-splitting noise that shattered shockwave lines in the icicles and columns Tango had spent weeks building. They gonged and crashed like the world’s deadliest wind-chimes over their heads, and Tanguish tracked a few to their left and right as they fell. This was their only saving grace; the falling ice was much louder than Tango and Tanguish were. The Warden, confused, hesitated as it tried to track the different sounds.

“Hey man, thanks for comi-”

“Shhhhh!” Tanguish interrupted him. Tango gave an exaggerated nod and a thumbs-up and focused on running.

They were good at that: running. It was one of the things they shared in common. They were both terribly good at running from things. (Tanguish got his practice stealing, and Tango got his wrangling dangerous creatures, but practice was practice no matter where it came from.) They were also terribly good at avoiding the fact that they were hels and hermit, and that wasn't really supposed to make them friends. They ran so fast together, so often, they'd gotten quite good at running from what they were supposed to be (not friends) and you tended to grow fond of the people you kept pace with. (They kept pace well.)

Tanguish couldn't remember why they first met. It was in much the same way he first spawned in hels: wholly accidental, a bit sudden, and mildly inconvenient. He hadn't asked to be created. He didn't particularly mind that he was, but it also wasn't exactly expected, springing into consciousness from random emotions and void. But he did.

When he first met Tango, it was when he was minding his own business, counting a collection of coins he'd stolen from someone in the main market. The person was from a place called Pixandria, or they were the hels version of someone who'd been to Pixandria at some point, and they had the most beautiful copper coins Tanguish had ever seen. He took them onto his favorite roof - a tall steepled thing made of deepslate and burnished iron that he thought might be a church, or some villain-y builder's lair. He'd never been inside. He didn't care about interiors much. He liked things. He liked those pretty little copper coins. He flipped each one in his hand, marked their faces, cataloged their iconography, sulked a little that he hadn't stolen more. And then a voice interrupted him.

"They used me, and I got selfish."

Tanguish looked around the roof, confused. There was no one else here. No one else had his claws for scaling buildings, or his tail for balance, or the ice that sprung to his touch that his skin liked to stick to for just a few seconds before it melted, helping him cling to things.

"I mean, I was trying to be cool, and I blew it. Hah - literally. That's a pretty pathetic way to go."

Tanguish looked down at the coins in his hand, at his reflection on the red-orange surface, and was not ashamed to admit he thought the coins were talking to him. It took awhile for him to realize it was his reflection, and not the odd face of the coin, speaking. It was a reflection he could barely see, a black silhouette with tired, despondent eyes.

"I bet no one cared, either."

Tanguish tilted his head at the coins in his hand, waited for them to speak again, and when they didn't, tossed them one-by-one into a fountain far below. All of them, except for the shiniest one. That one he polished and slipped in his pocket. Talking coins were pretty rare, he figured. (He was right.)

"Okay," Tanguish breathed, hiding behind a half-finished wall, "we're pretty far away now."

"Are we out of its hearing range?" Tango squeaked, louder than Tanguish (that was the only way he knew how to talk: just a few decibels louder than Tanguish at all times). "I mean that thing is scary good at hearing."

The two of them fell silent. They strained their ears to listen. In the distance Tanguish heard the quiet clicks of sculk sensors listening for noise, but nothing else. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," Tango whispered, "so first of all, sorry for not warning you-"

Tanguish shrugged.

"-but I figured you wouldn't be too-- yeah, exactly. You're not mad. Of course you're not. I get mad at things."

Tanguish wasn't entirely sure he'd ever been mad before. Tango told him it was the kind of emotion you didn't forget once you'd felt it. Tango tended to be right about these kinds of things. (He got mad at redstone all the time - or at least, Tanguish figured he did. Redstone seemed like something you'd get mad at, and Tango was, in part, made of the stuff.)

"I thought we weren't catching Wardens until Decked Out was closer to done?" Tanguish asked him, a little annoyed, but still sort of favoring this to Helsknight's wrath.

"Well, you know, we did say that. But I wanted to just test some shriekers-"

"Tango."

"Good news! The shriekers definitely work!"

Tanguish chuckled. "Good news."

Tango shot him some finger-guns and grinned. "Well it's gotta be good, if it's even got Grim McGee over here laughing."

Tanguish found himself chuckling more. He shook his head.

"Anyway, so I was thinking-"

The Warden's growl sounded suddenly, bouncing off every icicle and snow bank in the foundling Decked Out cavern. Tango and Tanguish moved as one, slapping their hands on each other’s mouths to shut each other up. Eyes wide, they watched each other. They listened. The Warden sniffed twice, groaned in exasperation, and wandered further into the ice.

The first time Tango met Tanguish, it too, had been by accident. One moment Tanguish was leaning into the fountain by his favorite spot to drink some water. The next, he was sputtering and clawing his way out of a beautiful bay. His claws grabbed a cartoonishly built boardwalk and he hauled himself out of the water, ice smoothing the surface at his touch. He found himself staring at the reflection he’d heard talking to him for the past… well… he didn’t know how long.

It was funny, really, looking back on it. They were like a pair of scared cats who thought each of them respectively was the only cat in the world. They tumbled away from each other, all bristles and spines and fire and ice and redstone and skulk and it was a calm night from anywhere else on Hermitcraft but there. They blinked, they stared, they recognized what each of them were. They were perfect mirrors of shock and confusion.

Tanguish didn’t know what was going through Tango’s head. (He never knew what was going through his head, if there was anything going on up there at all besides the impulses and whims that drove him.) For his part, Tanguish spent the moments thinking hermits and helsmits were supposed to hate each other, eat each other up like fire and ice, burn and hiss like redstone and skulk. They were supposed to fight maybe, or at least bring out the worst in each other. And Tanguish thought if he’d known he’d meet his other half so soon, he’d maybe have spent less time stealing, and more time learning how to properly handle your double.

Then Tango held his hand out to Tanguish, and flashed him a dazzling smile that was equal parts nervous and excited. “Hey! Oh man, uh -- well, I guess you already know who I am, huh? It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Tanguish had expected treachery (as he should, given who and why and what they were to each other). But the thing about Tango was he was friendly, and transparent in that way friendly people are when they’re trying to make new friends. His red eyes were scary, shielded by impractically large glasses, and his hair sparked and flickered, and the freckles on his skin were charged with redstone, and Tanguish thought by nature of who and why and what they were, taking Tango’s hand should hurt.

“We’re supposed to hate each other,” Tanguish pointed out to him.

Tango shrugged. “Why should we? Opposites attract, right?” Then he’d flashed another dazzling, teeth-barred and infectious grin. “Besides, I was never that great at doing what I was supposed to.”

A proper helsmet would’ve refused. Scratched his hand away maybe, or done some other dramatic thing that set them apart as enemies. He should loathe the voice he’d been hearing in his head, always talking down to itself, or despairing over troubles and failures. At the very least, some primal helsmet-y thing should drive him to be cruel and self-righteous.

Instead, Tanguish took the hand extended to him, and found it was pleasantly warm. Tango winced, obviously fearing his ice would sting and freeze, and when it didn’t, he pulled Tanguish to his feet.

“I’m Tango,” Tanguish had introduced himself, because Tango hadn’t given him anything different yet.

Tango smiled at him, close-mouthed and melancholy. Tanguish preferred his other smile, despite how sharp his teeth looked. “Yeah… you really are, aren’t you buddy?”

“You got a name tag on you?”

“Yep! I had it all sorted out,” Tango said proudly, and Tanguish shushed him. Tango continued only a little softer this time. “We just gotta nametag him and lure him into the glass box I showed you. Easy-peasy! And hey, then that’s one less Warden we gotta wrangle when Decked Out II is fully operational. This is less work in the long run.”

Tango is saying this like he’s trying to convince Tanguish it’s a good idea. In reality, he’s trying to convince himself, but Tanguish lets him talk. He would probably follow Tango down a dragon’s throat, if Tango told him it was a good idea. This wasn’t a dragon’s throat. It was a Warden’s crushing embrace (Tanguish was more scared of falling than small spaces, so this was for him the lesser of two very bad things. Tango probably felt differently).

“I’ll name tag it,” Tanguish told him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tango laughed nervously, and it bounced off the icicles and out into the cavern around them. Tanguish looked out into the field of ice like he could track the noise. All he saw was the quiet glitter. That, and skulk. There was a lot of skulk in here already. Tango had been busy. Really the whole cavern was impressive. They’d planned it together. The icicles were Tango’s idea - the better to make you feel like you were walking into the mouth of something big and scary. The floor was slick, and every surface was hard in a way that amplified noise, except where the sculk creeped, listening and feeling and crawling like skin. Tanguish thought it was pretty, but then again, he probably would.

“You brought me here to help you.”

“Well I was thinking you’d be moral support,” Tango lied. Tanguish knew he was lying, because his nose scrunched up a little like the words tasted funny (Tango always did this when he was lying). “But hey, if you’re offering, I mean--”

Tango motioned in a mock ‘after you’ sort of bow. Tanguish grabbed the name tag from him and started walking. The skulk clicked. The shriekers chirped. The Warden was silent, and Tanguish hoped that meant it was waiting on noise, and not that it had burrowed somewhere. The ice showed him his reflection, because Tango was here beside him and not in a mirror somewhere.

“This is huge,” Tanguish grunted, clambering up a wall to get a better vantage point. He reached for Tango and pulled his double up beside him.

“I know right?” Tango beamed pridefully. “Dug out the bottom of a mountain for it! You should see upstairs. The snow biome’s almost done. Just gotta make a few more ice spikes.”

They looked, they listened, they hopped down the wall and kept going.

“That was a good suggestion by the way,” Tango grinned, “the ice spikes.”

“I like tall things,” Tanguish told him.

“Aren’t you scared of heights though?”

“Falling.”

“Huh. You ever used an elytra before? I think you’d like it.”

“Do you fall with it?”

“Sometimes.” Tango chuckled in that way people did when they were remembering something unfortunate. “Mostly though, you fly.”

“Oh. That sounds nice.”

“It’s a parasite.”

Tanguish took a bite of a muffin he’d stolen off his favorite pastry cart and shamelessly eavesdropped. He didn’t have much else to do but sit on rooftops and eavesdrop and steal things - unless he was running from someone he’d stolen from. He did that often as well. The muffin he’d stolen today had nuts in it, which wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he’d take it over nothing any day. The couple he was eavesdropping on were a guard and a butcher, judging from their clothes. The guard, as people tended to do when they were bored and procrastinating getting somewhere, had started reading the newspaper her beef cuts were wrapped in. The butcher listened, sharpening his knife. There was no one standing in line at the stall, so he let her talk.

“It spreads when it eats,” she continued. “That’s probably how it took so long to find it. Growing up by the bedrock like that, it could only really eat ghasts if they floated too close.”

Tanguish looked at the nether ceiling. It was high and well built here, a rare gift from Evil Xisuma. There was a plaque about it somewhere, how he’d helped terraform the ceiling to make it look like a kaleidoscope of stars. Tanguish had never met Evil Xisuma, but the name suggested they probably wouldn’t like each other. Evil people didn’t like most people.

“What are we going to do about it?” the butcher asked the guard. “We’re not in danger, are we?”

“Not as long as no one gets close,” she explained. “Skulk mostly feeds on corpses anyway. But wander around it too long and it’ll find a way to get you, and with how dangerous hels is anyway, well--”

She spoke like the danger was thrilling. To her, it probably was.

“There’s only one way to deal with a parasite,” the guard continued, “you’ve got to starve it of what it wants. Otherwise, it’ll spread until it’s the only thing that’s left. That’s probably how it got here in the first place. It ate out everything else on some world somewhere, and some hels from that place tracked it here when they couldn’t find their other half.”

Tanguish frowned at his muffin. He broke apart a piece of it and watched as frost hardened the bread. He wondered how long he’d have to hold it for the skulk on his arms to leap to it.

“Oh shoot.”

“What?”

Tanguish turned to look at Tango, who’d stopped in his tracks abruptly. He stared wide-eyed ahead of them, unblinking. Tanguish was on the edge of asking what was going on, when Tango waved a hand in front of his eyes, blinked, and did it again. He mouthed the word ‘blind’. Tanguish mouthed a wide, “Oh” that Tango couldn’t see. He forgot the Warden could blind people. It didn’t work on Tanguish. He was made of ice and skulk, after all. Something about the way he was made didn’t care that the Warden ate the light. Tango did, though.

Tanguish grabbed Tango’s wrist and pulled him along, leading him through the maze of ice and skulk. They crept as fast as they could past sensors and shriekers, wincing at the little noises so dangerously close. Tanguish was starting to hear the Warden now, its grumbles and groans as it walked, the loud huffing of its breath as it drew closer to them. It was tracking Tango. His smell probably bit its nose like redstone, and it followed relentlessly. Tanguish could ditch him, leave him stranded in the ice as bait. He could tag the Warden while it was preoccupied and run, leave Tango to deal with the fallout, dive through his reflection somewhere. That was probably what a good helsmet would do. Leave their hermit to suffer, steep in feelings of betrayal and ill-deserving. It’d make him stronger, turn him into something that wasn’t hiding in his hermit’s shadow.

Tanguish was a bad helsmet, though.

Instead, he pulled Tango along, and Tango trusted him blindly. Literally blindly, but he’d probably trust him blindly anyway. Tanguish shoved him at the corner where two half-finished maze walls met.

“Don’t move,” Tanguish breathed in his ear, and Tango nodded and froze. Tanguish stood in front of him bravely, bristled like a startled cat. He grabbed an armful of skulk off the ground, stuck his tongue out at the way it pulsed against his skin. He could feel its little roots creeping on his arms, whatever odd plant-flesh it was made of reaching to infect him. Parasite. But Tanguish was made of skulk and ice, and while the skulk that wasn’t his felt uncomfortable, it certainly couldn’t harm him.

The Warden growled and emerged from behind a pair of ice columns. It took two deep breaths, sniffing for Tango, and shambled in their direction. Its footsteps were heavy. They didn’t shake the ground, but Tanguish still felt like he could feel them in his toes. It was like the skulk under his feet responded to the movement, saying through tiny motions and flashes and pulses here, what you’re looking for is here. Come get it. Come kill the thing that isn’t us.

The Warden rose like a dark tower in Tanguish’s vision, blocking out the rest of the half-built cavern that Tango had made. It leaned over Tanguish, breath whooshing in heavy huffs as it smelled for its prey. Tanguish only pressed himself a little closer to Tango and hugged the skulk in his arms tighter, and held his breath. He felt a little lightheaded, because he was scared and not breathing, and doing his best to pretend his noisy, living body was instead a statue of some kind. With one shuddering hand, Tanguish reached forward and gently hooked the name tag on one of the Warden’s exposed ribs. Its heart was loud and close, mesmerizing in the way it moved, in the way whatever soul-stuff swirled around it pulsed and flickered its eerie blue light. If it weren’t such a dangerous, fruitless endeavor, Tanguish would try to steal it. Pluck the pretty, flashing, pulsing thing from its home in those grinning ribs and hang it up on one of his favorite rooftops. It would probably stop glowing though, just as soon as it left the Warden’s chest.

The Warden let out one more long, low, growling groan. It turned and lumbered away.

“I’m a parasite,” Tanguish informed Tango matter-of-factly from his reflection in a broken window.

“What? No you’re not.” Tango scowled. “Don’t say things like that about yourself, man. It’ll kill your self-esteem.”

Tanguish tilted his head at his double, and tried not to feel grateful for the concern. Tango didn’t seem to realize this wasn’t an opinion. It wasn’t conjecture. It wasn’t bad self-esteem and it wasn’t up for debate. It was, in its simplest form, a warning. Tango should be grateful for it. Most leeches didn’t give an introduction when they attached themselves to your skin.

“I’ll just get stronger if you keep feeding me.”

Tango opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again, finding nothing to say. Tango was optimistic to a fault. He seemed to think the two of them were allowed to both be strong, to thrive. He seemed to think they were here for each other, to help each other, to make each other better. That is not how helsmets and hermits worked. At least, Tanguish didn’t think so.

Regardless, Tango kept looking at him with that odd, conflicted expression.

“I’m not here to help you, Tango,” Tanguish said quietly. “I will get worse.”

“We’re friends.”

“We’re comfortable.”

Like an old fur coat, made of long dead things but still pleasantly warm.

“We can be friends,” Tango insisted, his voice withering. “We don’t have to be like all the other hels and hermits out there. We can be friends.”

Tanguish sighed. He told Tango the only truth he knew for sure. “I will devour you, Tango.”

Tango closed his eyes and shook his head. His face in Tanguish’s reflection disappeared. Tanguish hoped they never talked again. That was the only way to kill a parasite, after all. Starve it of the thing it wanted.

Together they lured the Warden into Tango’s glass box. It couldn’t burrow through it, couldn’t despawn because of the tag. They had it well and truly trapped. Sure, it screeched and roared, and shook the walls with its sonic howls, but eventually it fell silent and submitted to its fate. It was kind of pathetic, sure, but it would be happy enough smacking around players once Decked Out II was done. Tanguish thought it was crazy keeping a pet Warden around, but Tango had a habit for keeping company with dangerous things. He had a pet helsmet, after all. A pet helsmet who had even grown to like him. Who put himself in harm's way to protect him. Who guided him through the dark when he should leave him behind.

“Where are the other hermits?” Tanguish asked when the Warden was finally still in its cage. “Why didn’t they come and help you?”

Tango winced and pulled out a shulker box full of ice so he could pretend he was busy when he talked. “Oh, you know, they were just… I mean Scar and Grian are doing collabs. Cub is making his crazy death game. The Soup Crew are all gathering materials together--”

“Did you ask them for help?”

Tango grimaced. He rifled uselessly through his shulker box.

“You should ask them first next time.”

“I knew you’d be available,” Tango shrugged. “Besides, you want something done right, you do it yourself.”

Tanguish nodded. He liked the praise, the idea he was the only one who could help Tango in a tough situation. It made his back a little straighter. The skulk, like bioluminescent freckles on his arms, glowed a little brighter. He felt warm. He felt fed.

(Maybe Tanguish wasn’t such a bad helsmet after all.)

#the barking writer #tangotek #hels!Tango #Tanguish #this was supposed to be a lot funnier #but also i like where this went so #[shrug]#you win some you lose some #just realized maybe i should elaborate a little in the tags here #hello the idea of Tango dragging Tanguish along on a harrowing escape is what jump-started this #that's why the ask is attached #also thank you anon very much for the kind words #they are a fun duo! i just write dark things

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brutal-nemesis · 4 years

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EoS: Wrong Door

LORD I finally finished this boi. I’m excited to finally share “real” whump with y’all :D Please let me know if you have any LoreTM questions!

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Ingredients: hand/arm nailing & gore (idk how bad b/c I’m desensitized af so just be careful yeah?), barbed wire, paralyzation, dehumanization, restraints, needles, acid

Three, two, one, pull. Three, two, one-clink! The chain holding his right arm finally snapped. Jairus had finally freed both of his arms from the chains holding them up thanks to the unnatural strength of his draconic left arm. He wasn’t able to get the metal cuffs off his wrists, but he could at least take the weight off his aching shoulders and sit down instead of kneeling upright. Now all that was left was the collar leather strap around his neck. Like hell he was wearing that thing any longer than he needed to. Instead of breaking the chain, he used the claws on his left hand to slice through the leather. It took a few tries and he scratched his neck in multiple places, but it was worth it to get that thing off him.

He was finally able to stand up, a little unsteady after kneeling for so long. There wasn’t anything else in the room, not even the rest of his clothes, since all he was left with were his shorts. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed to be without a shirt, but the fact that Einn or one of her underlings had removed it while he was unconscious was infuriating. He’d make them pay once he got his spear back. He had to focus on finding it and escaping for now. Revenge could wait.

The door wasn’t even locked. This is almost too easy, Jairus thought, and then was immediately proven wrong as he peered outside. Down the hall, two wrath demons and a greed demon were rushing towards him, alerted by the sounds of the chains breaking. Without a second thought, Jairus turned and bolted towards the door at the other end of the hall. If he had his lance, he could kill them easily, but without it, he couldn’t even use his lightning magic. To make matters worse, he was terrified of greed demons, and seeing one scampering towards him on its short, stubby legs with its four unnaturally long arms reaching out made his bottled-up fear come bursting out. He almost slammed into the door, wrenching it open and diving inside without thinking. He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, then stopped to rest his head against it and catch his breath. He couldn’t rest long, he had to…

A sudden, sharp pain emanated from the back of his neck. He tried to reach up and identify the source, but he couldn’t move all of a sudden. Jairus collapsed to the ground as his legs gave out, and he found himself staring up into the coal-black eyes of a pride demon. Setting down the needle, the white demon that had rendered him powerless shouted over its comrades’ relentless pounding on the door, “Quiet, worms! Everything worked out as expected.” It reached over and unlocked the door. “Get in here and help me, this stuff doesn’t last long.” The other demons came into the room as the pride demon reached down and yanked Jairus up by his hair. “So eager to start, aren’t we? Don’t worry, all of us are as excited as you.” It sneered at Jairus’s expressionless face, before letting Jairus’s head fall back to the ground with a hard thunk. Jairus tried to move, tried to fight, but his body wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t lose again, he was the dragon hybrid, dammit. There was no way that this was happening.

There was no way, even as the other demons came in and lifted him onto the wooden table in the middle of the room (that greed demon’s awful hands all over him). There was no way, even as they removed the broken restraints and chained him to the table. There was no way, even as a crumpled rag was shoved between his teeth. There was no way, until he felt something sharp in his left palm. His eyes, the only part of him that would work, rolled over to see a giant metal spike, dripping with a liquid that burned his scales, that one of the wrath demons was pushing down into his dragon hand. Terror ran through him like lightning, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want this-

DING. The feeling of the metal driving through his flesh caused a cry to echo in his throat, the only reaction his limp body could give. DING. He could feel the bones in his hand breaking as the nail was driven deeper. DING. Each whack of the hammer hurt more than the last, which he didn’t even think was possible. DING. The nail had pushed all the way through his hand now, biting into the table and widening the hole in his palm. DING. Why did they have to keep hitting it? DING. Their laughing faces swam in front of his eyes. DING. He could feel his cries humming in his throat, trapped behind the gag. DING. Was this his punishment for running off by himself and leaving his friends behind? For thinking he could defeat Einn without them?

The hammering had stopped. He didn’t want to, but he had to open his eyes and look. Once he did, he really wished he hadn’t. There was something sickening about the sight of the nail sticking out of his hand. He fought the urge to throw up, which would be doubly unpleasant since the gag in his mouth meant it had nowhere to go. The pride demon leaned over him, a wicked grin showing off its fangs, “We’re going to make certain that you can never move that cursed arm of yours ever again. Let any hope of escape die along with your sanity.” He turned to the greed demon as he unscrewed a medium-sized bottle. “Get the soul-muting band.”

“The fun part’s finally here then, Zariel?” The greed demon said as it reached one of its four long arms to the instrument-laden table by the wall and grabbed a metal band set with a dark green gemstone.

“Indeed it is.” Once the band was secured around Jairus’s upper right arm, Zariel began to pour the contents of the bottle over his nailed-down left arm. It didn’t exactly hurt his scales, but Jairus felt them softening, and the pain came once they began to crack and the acid came into contact with the skin underneath. Liquid fire was seeping into his flesh, every cracked scale allowing more and more of it to burn him. He bit down on the rag in his mouth, almost grateful that it silenced his cries.

Jairus’s draconic features always healed quickly thanks to the bond between his soul and the lightning dragon one that had been fused to it. But the band seemed to be blocking that connection, preventing his corroded scales and burned skin from repairing themselves. His arm was left damaged, with its black scales dissolving and cracking, showing patches of the bright yellow skin lightning dragons possessed, mottled with orange-red burns.

The greed demon then handed Zariel a long, thin knife, brandishing its own in two of its hands. “Let’s ruin this damned arm of yours now, shall we?” Zariel purred. The knife slid through his acid scorched scales with frightening ease, hitting bone before Jairus had properly registered the pain. He gasped into the gag as the blade continued along his bone, peeling off the flesh of his arm in one bloody strip. No, no, he couldn’t look any more. Couldn’t watch as his ruined black scales gave way to the pinkish white of a bone drenched in his blood. Couldn’t look at the wicked grins of the demons carving him up. But he could feel. Feel the knife gliding so effortlessly through his muscle that the pain started out as a quiet whispering before ramping up to a full-bodied scream. Feel the cold air wrapping itself around the bone, a sensation that isn’t supposed to be felt, swirling up and up around and everywhere.

Then there was nothing left of his arm save for his hand, still pinned to the table with a jagged spike, and some flesh around his shoulder. The rest was all gone, just frail human bones with bits of muscle clinging to them here and there. And he couldn’t help but stare. His flesh always grew back, it did, but no matter how much we willed it to heal, it wouldn’t. Zariel leaned over him, a devilish smirk on its face. “You think that’s the worst of it, worm? You’re in for a treat.” He brandished a coiled mass of...was that barbed wire?

Yes, yes it was, and it was being wrapped around his left arm now. It wasn’t painful since there were really no nerves left, but he could feel the echoes of the metal scraping against his bones as it was wound around and around. And he hated, hated that feeling, especially knowing how much it was going to hurt once his arm came back (it was coming back, right?). But when they removed the band and his flesh began to regrow, he almost wished it wouldn’t.

Healing always came with a horrible itching pain that made his flesh feel like it was being stretched out, and having it push into the barbed wire and wrap around it added sharp, scraping pain to the mix. It was like the time it had healed around a piece of broken glass but magnified to a maddening degree. It felt like his arm was being pulled and stabbed and scraped and there were thousands of insects crawling all over it itched it hurt oh god it hurt make it stop-

And then everything went dark.

When he came to, she was standing over him. Her green eyes lit up the moment she saw he was awake.

“Well there you are, little hybrid. I heard you’re still harboring delusions about escaping. Let’s rectify that, shall we?”

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gyllenhaalstories · 3 years

Photo

HIGH HORSE — QUENTIN BECK

request: what about fighting with quentin beck for the first time, after he's been all smug and acting like he doesn't care about the reader and him realizing after they leave that he needs them in his life real bad - so he gets off his high horse for once and admits he cares about the reader?

warnings: canon divergent quentin (set in an alternate universe where quentin survived far from home), mentions of janice, guterman and a very out of character victoria, throwback scene (including violence, knives and manipulation), 18+, MINORS DON’T INTERACT.

word count: 1525

gif credit: winterswake

notes: i was listening to dark horse by katy perry, high horse by kacey musgraves, save your tears by the weeknd and the raya soundtrack? weird mix, but it takes what it takes to get the angst juices flowing. thanks for reading, remember to reblog!

“Next time you want to come up with a lame apology, I’d advise against asking Guterman to write it for you.” You finally broke the silence.

Quentin had just dismissed Janice for the next couple of hours, asking her nicely to change some part of his collar. You overheard her say something about knowing how to make the cape even more dramatic, and that was all the sweet talk Quentin needed to soften up and let her do her job without micromanaging.

You would never create a scene in front of Janice, she was sweet as pie. The fact he treated her with more kindness, patience and respect than he treated you made your blood boil. You blamed it on the piling up, the lies and the secrets. Your hands were deep under the water, in the sink. You toyed with your wedding ring, loosened up by the water.

“I don’t want to have this conservation again,” he scoffed.

“Again? You never let me finish it the first time.”

*~*~*

It was Victoria, another of his evil sidekicks, who had broken the news to you. He did not make it. His plan backfired, some kid had shot him.

You don’t remember much from this day, aside from Quentin insisting you did not follow them to London. Aside from Quentin renting a beautiful villa in Greece, where you were at that very moment. Aside from Quentin’s last promise to meet with you, after he shook the Queen’s hand of course.

You were so hopeful, you wanted nothing more than to see his pretty face. Instead, when you ran to open the door, it was Victoria who gave you one of her compassionate smiles. She was as great a liar as Quentin, as you. You could see right through her, although Quentin refused to believe that she was as twisted as him.

“They won.” She had told you, twisting the blade in the wound. It was just a game for her, for all of them. Except, for you, it was not. It was the life of your husband that was at risk (that part out of his origin story was true, it was the part both Hill and Fury fell for), the life of millions of innocent people who ignored just how far he would go to make his own dreams come true. “He fought like a King, it’s truly unfortunate he had to die a martyr.”

You squinted, taking in Victoria’s features. Her smile was turning into an evil smirk. She had one hand on your shoulder, the other one behind her back and before she could move any further, you shoved her against the wall. You saw a knife sliding on the tiles of the villa’s foyer, you rushed to grab it and point it towards her while you walked backwards, hoping the reach the balcony.

“You made him weak. He lost focus. We would be the masters of the world if you did not walk into his life and ruined everything for us. He was just a pawn for all of us, well, all except Janice.” She escaped her villainesque speech to roll her eyes, facepalming herself at the desperation of Janice to always check up on everybody and take care of everyone. Janice had loved you since the beginning, and it rubbed Victoria the wrong way.

Your back reached the railing of the balcony and you looked over your shoulder. You took a deep breath, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the knife. “I understand you, Vicky.”

The brunette frowned, snapped back to reality.

“He’s the charming type, isn’t he?” You noticed her repress a wave of laughter. “He sweeps you up, promises you to fly on a magic carpet and to show you a whole new world. You always wonder... Does he mean it this time? Is he being honest? Or is he smarter than we think?”

Her traits appeared softer.

"You say he’s a pawn, I say he’s the rook, except his ego gets in the way of the Queen. He’s quick and witty, though, can’t take that away from him. And next thing you know... He pulled out a checkmate behind your back.” You walked towards her, still the knife in hand. “I understand you can’t always get what you want, even if that’s all your heart desires.” You walked around her, so that she was now the one aiming towards the balcony.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Victoria said. “I could have given you the whole world.”

Your jaw clenched. You stepped even closer, so you could feel her breath on her skin. “Too bad I want the whole universe.”

With one swift movement, you pushed her off the railings and watched her as she fell practically in slow motion. You shook your head, deciding to deal with this turn of event later and rushed out of the villa. You could take the car she drove to the house with, and see for yourself if Quentin was the idiot they all believed he was. Dead because of a kid who’s obsessed with spiders? What was next, he would have consented to let Tony name his technology BARF? You knew him better than that. You knew him better than he knew himself.

By the time you reached the door, you heard the splashing sound of Victoria falling in the infinity pool, down there in the courtyard and let out a sigh. The knife, you left it on the bench and let your adrenaline guide you to your final destination.

*~*~*

“I was terrified. I was sick. I was losing hope.”

He looked in your direction, swallowing thickly.

“I waited months to see you, Quentin. To find you.” You washed another dirty glass, paying attention to the noise of his heavy costume squeaking and dragging on the floor while he approached you. You shook your head, and he listened, taking a seat by the kitchen island. “You left without hesitation. You left me without any hesitation.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

You chuckled and turned around, soap dish foam flying around as you spinned on your heels. “Oh, really? Then how come you didn’t even text me where you were hiding? How come you ignored all of my calls? How come you made Janice lie to me? Why were you avoiding me?” You dried your hands with a towel and approached him. “Why were you not searching for me all these months?”

These months he wasted trying to hide from everything, to play dead so that his plan would work out. These months he wasted putting his mission before his emotions first. These months he wasted waiting for the phone to stop ringing while you called him. These months he wasted stepping on his own pride and searching for help, for shelter, which he found in some abandoned head quarters of Stark industries that Tony and him used to build BARF years ago. The months he wasted trying to fix the broken pieces so you could see him as a hero again.

“I know I promised to be there for you through thick and thin, but some promises are meant to be broken.” Your voice cracked and words got stuck in your throat. The sight of his costume disgusted you, but the pain in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you.”

You forgot what these three words sounded like when he spoke them.

“I love you so much. More than this,” his arms gestured to show his costume, then moved around his head, meaning something bigger than the two of you. “All of this. It took me all this time to realize it.”

Checkmate.

“You deserve so much better. You deserve safety. You deserve comfort. You deserve to go out and not wonder if there’s a witch hunt trying to take you down.” He did not dry the single tear that was falling from his eye. “You deserve that stupid married life we always made fun of. The wine, the cardigans, the annoying kids running around. The only spider you should worry about is the one creeping on our ceiling.”

He was wrapping his arms around your waist, you helped him tighten his embrace.

“I’m sorry, for all the pain and danger I put you through.” You knew it came from his heart, and not from one of his rehearsed scenarios and speeches. “I’m sorry I failed you. You need a prince charming on a white horse and I’m just the royal buffoon.”

You chuckled, the sight alone lit up his whole face. “What I need is for you to get down your high horse. Go out, get some sun. Maybe you could shave, wear a cap and sunglasses. No one will recognize you, that’s how it works when you’re an undercover hero, right?”

“I don’t want to play the hero anymore.”

“Then, stop. Use those fish bowls you wear on your head to adopt gold fishes. Use the cape as a carpet. Kill Mysterio so that Quentin can live.”

He leaned against your hand, which was stroking his cheek.

“So that I can live with my Quentin again.”

#quentin beck imagine #quentin beck x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal angst #jake gyllenhaal #quentin beck

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courageous-she · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular- Charlie Gillespie

Teacher!Reader x MusicTeacher!Charlie

Word Count: 2707

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thank you for all the love on “Needing You”! I wrote this up, a little self-indulgently, but hope that some of you will find some enjoyment from it!

It had always been your dream to be an elementary school teacher. For as long as you could remember, you would play school with your American Girl Dolls or stuffed animals as your students. When the time came for college, you’d picked a program that would allow you to get your Master’s quickly. After student teaching and some substituting, you finally had your own fourth grade classroom.

You hadn’t been at your school long, seeing as it was only October, but you’d been there long enough to meet some of the other teachers. You got along well with your team teachers, and even made a few teacher friends you could hang out outside of school with.

It was a Wednesday and for some reason your students had more energy than normal, and it was taking a toll on you. Luckily, they had Music in a few minutes, so you decided to end the lesson early and have them start getting ready for the special. They were quiet in the hallway, giving you a quick break before dropping them off at the music room.

“Hey, fourth grade!” the music teacher, Mr. G said with enthusiasm as your class approached. You students began to file into the classroom, high-fiving or fist bumping Mr. G as they passed. “Hey Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. G said more softly to you.

“Hi Mr. G. They’re a little more energetic than normal today.” You said, providing a well needed update on the class. Mr. G smiled, chuckling lightly at the statement.

“Nothing I can’t handle I’m sure.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Got any plans this weekend?” he asked you. This weekend was Halloween and you wanted nothing more than to spend it on your couch with a bottle of wine.

“I was just going to drink some wine and watch a movie.” You replied honestly, “Why? Have something in mind?” It wasn’t unusual for Mr. G, or you could probably call him Charlie, to ask you about your plans. A little harmless flirting was normal between the two of you seeing as you were the only two 20 something teachers in the school.

“I had about the same idea in mind. Would you maybe want to drink wine and watch a movie together?” He asked, a smirk playing on his face. As you were about to respond, one of your students came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand, tugging him into the classroom. You smiled and let him know that you would text him before letting him go to teach the class.

You: 7:00 my place?

You sent the text to Charlie, having had his number from staff meetings. The two of you liked to text during the meetings instead of actually paying attention. You didn’t expect a response right away anyway considering he was teaching your students. You took the 40 minutes your kids were at music to sit in the quiet and grade some classwork.

When you went to pick your class up, Charlie was waiting by the door, your class lined up behind him.

“7:00 sounds perfect. I’ll bring the refreshments” he said quiet enough so the class didn’t hear.

“I’ll text you my address” you said, smiling, “Alright friends, what do you say to Mr. G?” you asked, addressing your class.

“Thank you, Mr. G!” rang out in unison by your students.

“Bye guys! See you later!” Charlie waved, again high-fiving some kids on their way out. You turned around as your class walked to the end of the hall and Charlie shot you a quick wink before heading back into his classroom. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*****

When Friday night finally did come, Charlie texted you around dismissal to make sure your plans were still on.

You: Definitely! But I hope you know I will be in my baggiest of sweatpants

Charlie: Glad we’re on the same page, I don’t wear real clothes outside of school, its sacrilegious

You chuckled at the text, making sure to send Charlie your address and apartment number. Your students filed out one-by-one until it was only you left in the classroom. You made sure to shut down everything and turn off the lights before making the quick trip to your car.

Once home, you threw your work clothes into your hamper and got into your designated sweatpants. Knowing that you were having company later encouraged you to give your apartment a good clean, something you hadn’t been motivated to do recently. You lived alone, but you preferred it that way. Sometimes after a long day of school it was just easier to come home and not have to talk to anyone about your day.

Soon enough, the buzzer in your apartment was ringing signaling that Charlie was downstairs waiting to be let up. You pressed the button to unlock the main door and waited by your front door for his knock. When it came, you opened the door to see Charlie carrying a large pizza, a bottle of wine, and bag of Halloween candy.

“You came prepared Gillespie” you said, taking some of the items from his hands. He kicked his shoes off by the door before following you into the small living room. You set the items down on the coffee table before getting comfortable on the couch, Charlie following suit next to you.

“I told you I’d bring the refreshments, didn’t I?” He asked, pulling a corner of your blanket over his legs. You laughed, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Once the Netflix screen showed, you passed the remote to Charlie who gave you a confused look.

“I can’t decide on movies for the life of me, so this one’s on you” you said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. You ate and watched as Charlie flipped through the movies, settling on a horror film. “Should have guessed you’d try to kill me tonight” you laughed.

“Hey, when you put me in charge of the movie, you can’t complain about what I pick” Charlie laughed, opening the bottle of wine.

“Oh! Let me get us some glasses,” you said, starting to remove the blanket from your lap. Charlie’s hand stopped you from getting any further.

“I’m fine with drinking out of the bottle if you are…” he suggested. You shrugged, not really caring about sharing the bottle with him. The two of you settled into the couch, eating pizza and sharing the bottle of wine. You definitely jumped at some parts in the movie and Charlie laughed at you each time.

About halfway through the movie, the both of you had finished eating and were now resting comfortably on the couch. However, the movie only began to get scarier as a really gory part showed on the screen. You jolted with surprise and shoved your face into Charlie’s neck, hand gripping the shirt material on his chest.

“You can’t really be scared of this!” Charlie laughed.

“Of course, I’m scared!” you replied, voice muffled by his skin. Charlie only chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t go in there!” you shouted a few moments later to the girl in the movie.

“Of course, she’s going to go in there!” Charlie retorted, “it’d be no fun if she didn’t”

“Who said any of this was fun” you replied, getting ready to hide your face against Charlie again, “I can’t watch.” Again, Charlie pulled you closer, protecting you from the demons on the screen.

As the movie ended, you let out a sigh of relief. You quickly stood and made your way over to your fridge, pulling out another bottle of wine.

“After that movie, I need more of this, and a new movie to forget that one”

“I’m down for another movie. But you’re choosing it this time” Charlie said, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. As you scrolled through the choices, you landed on one that had made you cry the first time you watched it.

“Okay, Gillespie.” You said, selecting the movie and hitting play, “Time to see you cry”

“Oh, I don’t cry” Charlie said, a smirk on his face. You made a “let’s see about that” face and the two of you settled in to watch the movie.

As the sad part began to get more intense, you stole a glance over at Charlie. You could see tears slowly cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought you said you didn’t cry” you joked, pushing on his shoulder with your own. Taken aback by the fact that you’d noticed him, Charlie quickly began to wipe the tears from his face.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating.” He replied.

“Sure, tough guy. Don’t worry about it, crying is manly” you said, leaning into his side. He chuckled at you before pulling you closer to finish the movie.

*****

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, you stood to throw out the empty pizza box and candy wrappers.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going” Charlie said, looking at the time on his phone.

“You’ve been drinking, Charlie, probably not the best idea to drive right now” you said, holding up the two empty wine bottles. Charlie gave you a knowing look.

“Let me see if my roommate is still awake, maybe he can come grab me” But before you could even let Charlie unlock his phone to text his roommate, you blurted out a proposition.

“Or you could just spend the night here” You stared at Charlie, shocked the sentence even left your mouth. It was probably the alcohol that helped. Charlie looked at you, making sure he heard correctly.

“I mean, if you’re cool with me crashing on your couch…” he spoke slowly.

“Oh no, you can’t sleep on that. It may be good for sitting but if you sleep on it, you’ll wake up with a broken back. My bed is big enough, we can share…. If you’re okay with that” you quickly added. Charlie mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ before helping you clean up the rest of the mess. As you made your way into your room, you turned on your bathroom light. “I have an extra toothbrush you can use,” you said, handing Charlie the blue toothbrush.

The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. As Charlie finished, he made his way back into your room while you took a moment to wash your face. When you walked back into your room, Charlie was sitting on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get in bed” you laughed. Charlie sheepishly looked up at you, locking his phone and putting in on the end table.

“Wasn’t sure what side of the bed you normally slept on” he replied. You went over to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Charlie followed suit on the opposite side of the bed. You clicked off your side lamp and turned to face Charlie.

“Sorry in advance if I kick you in my sleep” you said.

“If you kick me, we’re going to have a problem” Charlie laughed. It wasn’t long before the two of you dozed off comfortably facing each other.

*****

You woke up the next morning to your head resting on Charlie’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. You laughed at the sleeping boy, noticing that he was no longer wearing a shirt. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, failing as his arm only wrapped tighter around you and a low groan came from the boy.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice low and eyes still closed.

“I was going to go make us some breakfast” you said. Charlie turned so his body was now facing yours, eyes still closed, and arms remaining around you.

“Five more minutes” he grumbled. “If you leave, I’ll be cold” he whined. You could only laugh.

“If I don’t get up, then you won’t have anything to eat in five minutes”

“I’ll buy us breakfast if you promise not to move” he said, voice low and soft. You replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and began to get comfortable.

“One thing though” you said, Charlie hummed in response, ��When did you take your shirt off?”

“’mm like 2? Not sure, does it matter?” he asked. You mumbled a small ‘no’ not wanting to admit that you liked the feel of his warm skin against yours. You snuggled into him, hands reaching around and lightly dragging up and down his back. When you thought he’d fallen asleep, you let your hands stop, but when Charlie’s hand reached around to grab yours, mimicking your earlier motion, you continued.

You hadn’t realized that you’d fallen asleep, but you woke up in the same position, only this time Charlie’s fingers were lightly grazing up and down your back.

“Mornin’” he hummed, “Didn’t think you’d fall back asleep, did ya?” he teased. You lifted your eyes to meet his, taking in his bed head as well.

“Well, if you’d have let me get up the first time, I could have had breakfast ready for you” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Breakfast is ten minutes away” Charlie said, brushing your hair away from your face. You looked up at him, a little shocked he’d woken up and ordered breakfast. Your eyes met his and you watched as his fell to your lips. Your breath hitched and before you knew it, Charlie’s soft lips were on yours.

It was gentle and quick, too quick if you were honest. But having kissed him once already now, you worked up the courage to kiss him again, this time taking the lead. You moved so that you were straddling him, his hands quickly finding a home on your hips, rubbing small circles on the skin under your shirt.

A moment later, you found yourself lying on your back, Charlie hovering over you. He only pulled away when his phone buzzed from next to you. He quickly checked his phone, looked at you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before getting up and pulling his sweatshirt on. Just as quickly as Charlie had gotten on top of you, he was off and out the door.

Sliding out of bed, you threw on your sweatshirt and padded out to the kitchen. The front door opened and Charlie came in carrying two bags of food.

“What the hell did you order, Char?” you asked, grabbing a bag and beginning to open it. All kinds of breakfast foods laid out in front of you. Two arms landed their way on either side of you, locking you between him and the counter.

“Char?” he asked, voice low in your ear. Your face was warm as you turned around in the small space you had, noticing the smirk on the boy’s face. You weren’t sure how to respond, the nickname just kind of slipped out. But before you could respond, Charlie’s hand gently held your chin and his lips met yours once again. “Don’t worry” he said against your lips, “I like it”

He quickly lifted you onto the counter, slipping in between your legs and placing another kiss against your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, tasting each of the foods that Charlie had ordered.

*****

As the two of you cleaned up the kitchen a little while later you asked, “So, am I going to have to compete for your attention at school?” Charlie gave you a confused look, not sure what you meant by that statement. “Considering how all the fourth and fifth grade girls have the biggest crushes on you?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

Charlie chuckled, coming over to rest his hands on your hips, forehead resting against your own. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of attention” he quietly said before placing a kiss on your lips. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for more.

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

OUT OF TROUBLE

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)

A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"

"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"

Silence.

"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."

More silence.

"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.

"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.

"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.

"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.

"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"

"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.

"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"

"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"

"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.

Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.

"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.

"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"

"What the hell?!"

"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.

"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.

"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.

"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."

"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"

Two Hours Earlier

After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.

Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.

"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"

"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.

"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.

"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.

"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.

"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.

"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."

"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."

"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.

"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.

"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.

"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.

"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"

"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."

"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.

"No she doesn't."

George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.

"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.

We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.

"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.

"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.

"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."

"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"

"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.

"Meaning?"

"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"

"Cassius!"

"What kiss?" Graham inquired.

"He kissed her."

"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.

"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"

"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.

"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.

"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.

"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."

"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."

"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.

"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.

"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.

"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"

"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."

I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.

There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.

"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.

"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.

"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.

"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."

Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."

"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."

"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.

"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."

"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.

"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.

"He did not—" Katie started.

"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"

READER'S P. O. V.

I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.

Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.

It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.

"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.

"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.

I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.

This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.

"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.

"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.

He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.

Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.

Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.

It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.

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

"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."

"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.

"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.

"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."

"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.

"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.

"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.

"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.

"Shut up, Bell!"

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."

"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.

"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."

"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.

"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."

"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.

"So... you're not mad at me?"

"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."

George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.

"Don't do it again, though."

"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."

"So?"

"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.

"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.

"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."

"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."

"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.

#george weasley headcanon #george weasley drabble #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley fluff #the order of the Phoenix #george weasley x y/n #george x y/n #george x you #harry potter

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

Annabeth making Percy a surprise dinner?

in which Annabeth tries to bake but Percy’s a much better (and entertaining) cook,, percabeth

Percy honestly doesn’t know what to expect at home when his wife stops answering her texts halfway through the day. At first, he chalks it up to her taking a nap, which is understandable considering she’s still recovering from a nasty cold that had her out for a week, but when it stretches hours with no response, he starts to get a bit suspicious.

He goes about his day at work normally, glancing at his phone every couple of minutes in anticipation for a response that never comes. He manages not to get too worried because knowing her, she probably forgot to charge her phone, but it doesn’t stop his leg from bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat of his car.

Percy practically jumps out of the car the second he’s parked and makes his way up to their apartment. There’s not really much going through is head besides him repeating where Annabeth over and over in his head like a broken record. He struggles to unlock the front door, and while he’d like to say it was due to his nerves, it’s much more likely that he is just bad with locks.

When the lock does click open, he is immediately met with the sound of something metal clanging in the kitchen and the distinct smell of smoke.

“Annabeth?”

He shuts the door behind him silently, kicking his shoes off. His footsteps are light against the wooden floor as not to startle her. When he rounds a corner and she comes into sight, there is an image in front of him that makes him want to both laugh and cry.

His kitchen looks like a bomb went off inside of it; there’s flour in every square inch of the room, and he’s pretty sure the counter is going to be permanently stained blue with the amount of food coloring she’s managed to spill. The oven is on, though there’s nothing in it, urging him to believe she may have forgotten she’d turned it on entirely.

Annabeth doesn’t acknowledge his presence, which isn’t a surprise considering the amount of noise she’s making. Percy leans against the wall to watch the scene unravel — Annabeth is wrestling a pile of dough that she clearly hasn’t let rise yet. It’s comical, watching her attempt to bake. She’s never been the best at it so he’s resigned to cooking for the two of them, so when she did take over cooking every once in a while, he couldn’t help but stop and laugh at her in adoration.

She’s with her back to Percy, so he makes to move behind her. If she’s startled when he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing his face between her shoulder blades, she doesn’t let it show.

“Hey,” Percy whispers, pressing his lips right below her ear. The skin is incredibly soft, and he loves the way she smells, so sweet and like herself. “What are you doing?”

She doesn’t answer, instead twisting out of his grasp and smiling innocently. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You mean you’re not destroying our kitchen?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Annabeth looks around the room before looking back at him, as though saying see?

“So we’re not going to talk about your hands stained blue?”

“Uh– no.”

Percy gives her an accusing look.

“I was trying to do something nice for you,” she admits, “but you’re home early and ruined the surprise.”

“Yeah?” He moves to stand in front of her, attempting to corner her against the counter. She protests for a moment before giving in to the kiss he presses to her forehead.

“It didn’t work anyways. I’m not a very good cook.”

“You’re not,” he agrees. Annabeth pouts, and Percy wants to kiss her, so he does.

“Why are you trying to do something nice?”

“Because,” she starts dramatically, slumping into his arms. “You took care of me all last week, which couldn’t have been fun.”

“It was lots of fun,” Percy tells her.

“Absolutely not.”

Percy hums in disagreement. “I get the best snuggles out of you when you’re sick. Otherwise, you’re just mean.”

Annabeth pushes his shoulder lightly. “I’m not mean.”

“Sometimes you’re mean,” he says playfully.

“I don’t think I like being married to you anymore.”

“You love being married to me,” he dismisses, pulling away from their hug. He regrets it a few seconds later, missing the heat of her body against his. “Can I help you finish?”

Annabeth whines. “No. It was supposed to be a surprise, so go do something else while I finish.”

On any other day, he would, but he’s missed her today more than usual. Besides, he’d much rather stay and watch this train wreck unfold in front of his eyes. It’s times like this he loves the most, he thinks, when the two of them get to make a mess with a childlike innocence, just being with one another. That’s what causes him to shake his head and kiss her once more.

“I want to help.”

“You want to help?”

“I love watching you fail at cooking,” he says sweetly, narrowly dodging the flick to the tip of his nose. “Come on. I’ll even clean everything up for you if you let me help.”

Annabeth pretends to think for a minute before stepping onto her tiptoes so she can press a kiss to his lips. “Fine,” she mutters against him, “but the joke’s on you. You were going to be cleaning everything up anyways.”

Percy rolls his eyes, but he can hardly be upset when she’s looking at him with such affection in her eyes.

It doesn’t take long at all before Percy decides to start messing with her. She leans over his shoulder while he begins to mix a bowl of buttercream frosting, and he practically has to shake her off of him. He pretends to be annoyed by the kisses she presses into his neck, the task at hand completely forgotten on her end, but it sends a jolt through him each time she makes contact with his skin. He honestly doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“It needs food coloring,” Annabeth tells him.

“Why don’t you pick a color?” Percy isn’t entirely thinking when he says that. Annabeth takes it as an invitation to pop open the cap to a small glass jar and tip it into the bowl he’s mixing in.

Percy chokes, snatching the food coloring from her fingers. “Annabeth!”

“What?”

He sets the jar aside carefully and shakes his head at her, amused. “You’ve just managed to turn our insides blue for a week.”

“I thought you liked blue.” Percy dips his finger into the bowl, scooping a glob of the deep blue frosting up. He glances at Annabeth, contemplating his next move. She’s looking at him with an emotion he can’t read, and so he looks back to the frosting.

“It’s a pretty color, don’t you think?”

Percy laughs. “You think so?”

“I’m surprised you don’t.”

With that, Percy decides to drag the frosting in a line down her cheek before she gets the chance to move away. It leaves a thick trail of blue that’s no doubt going to be stained on her face for the next day, given the way his finger is colored.

“Percy,” Annabeth threatens. She reaches for the bowl in a sudden movement, but he shoves it away before she gets her hands on any.

“You like the color!” he defends. Annabeth starts moving towards him, and he moves in the opposite direction, attempting to use the island as a barrier between the two of them.

Annabeth just stops and stares at him. It’s not particularly threatening, but it’s calm enough to make him sure that she’s about to make him regret it.

Annabeth points at the ground in front of her. “Come here.”

“I’m good where I am.”

It’s then that she starts towards him again, and he stumbles backwards, stubbing his toe on the corner of the counter. The sharp pain distracts him from the fact that his wife is rapidly approaching, and the next thing he knows, Annabeth is jumping on his back. His knees buckle for a moment before he manages to gain his balance.

Her hand splays across his face as she tries to reach across the counter for the batch of frosting, so Percy does just about everything he can to prevent it. He tries to shake her off, but she just grabs him by the entire face and squishes his cheeks.

“Stop moving,” she scolds, tugging sharply on his hair.

Percy desperately doesn’t want to be turned into a smurf for the next week, but he doesn’t particularly want to drop his wife on the ground either, so he has no choice but to let her crawl across his back for the metal bowl.

“Baby,” Percy breathes out, watching her scoop up a glob of frosting. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I think we both know I do.”

“I promise to be a good boy from now on.”

“Your words mean nothing to me.”

“You won’t do this if you love me.”

Annabeth giggles into his ear, and it’s so cute that he can’t even be mad about what happens next.

She slaps him in the face with a fistful of blue frosting, and it goes in just about every hole on his face. Annabeth’s laughing gleefully in his ear when she slides off his back and admires the work she’s done.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

Percy wipes his eyes so he can open them without the threat of getting sugar in his eyes. He’s met with her bright smile, her dimples becoming prominent, and he falls in love with her all over again.

“You look good in blue.”

Percy lifts the corners of his mouth, wiggling a finger in her direction. “I think you’d look even better in blue.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Before she can protest, he tugs her back into his arms and smooshes his face against hers. She tries to twist out of his grasp, but he just holds on tighter until she’s laughing to the point that she can’t breathe.

“Now you look good in blue too,” he says. She opens her mouth, about to complain, but then he lowers his lips to her cheek, and her words falter. Her eyes flutter shut as he kisses around her face, peppering featherlight touches everywhere he can reach, before ending against her lips.

“I love you,” he says, “even when you cover me in sticky frosting.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and kisses his nose. He pulls her in tighter.

“I love you too,” she tells him, “even when you ruin my surprises.

“Oh please. I just made this a moment to remember.”

It’s true, he thinks. It’ll be a pain to clean up, but she looks so happy that he thinks it’s worth it. It’s a memory they’ll pass on and recreate. And maybe, one day… he likes to think that there will be kids that they can bake cookies with. Days spent together filled with laughter and endless love.

Percy’s sure he has a soft smile on his face when Annabeth taps him on the forehead.

“What are you thinking about?”

Percy nudges her nose with his. “Us,” he admits quietly, “baking a few years from now, with one or two kids.”

Annabeth’s smile matches his. “Yeah?”

“And…” Percy bites his lip. “Never mind. It’s silly.”

“Tell me,” she says, eyes sparkling.

“You’re laughing at me,” he complains.

“I’m not laughing at you. I want to know.”

Percy thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. I just love you and us and this.”

Somehow, she knows what he means. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t need to. Instead, she just smiles and kisses him like there’s no one else but them.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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kanene-yaaay · 3 years

Text

You’re going to tickle me first, right?

Kanene’s note: One day I will carefully plan beforehand a title. But that day is noooot today! sdfghjfrgtyujikdfgh.

I consider this the last story from that idea of lers + lees in more different scenarios. I already did all the sides and I am very proud of the results! Thankys for all the support <3333

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Ticklish!Logan with Ler!Patton and Remus. Their relationship can be viewed as romantic or platonic. Around 2.300 words.

* Some fabulous works that inspired me with the idea and the teases (they’re from bnha)

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Take some time to remember about the litol cool things that you saw today! Fanfic, series, movies, a bird or a beautiful flower... anything that maded u happy! Drink water, sleep and eat! Today is another day and I’m proud that we’re both still here.

[~*~]

"Looking good, hot stuff." Arms hugged him from behind and Logan scoffed, as usual when confronted by feelings, behind his cup of coffee, drinking the remains of the liquid in a few gulps as he relaxed on the warm chest behind him. The morning was quiet and Patton’s humming on the kitchen was one of the few sounds that cut the air. Logan let his attention swim back to his book when the other began to nuzzle his neck, a small 'tsk' escaping between a tiny smile when his mustache hit a sweet spot on his shoulder.

They both knew what that meant, after all, Remus wasn’t fond on keeping a subtle demeanor and they already had played this exact game thousands of times before.

"Remus..."

"Tickle me, Logan!" The pout was crystal clear on his voice, discarding the need of the other adult to turn back to notice it. "It’s been almost a week since last time! And. I. Need. My. Daily. Doses of. Tickles."

Logan growled, ignoring the amused crackle behind him and instead focusing on hiding his now complete red face on one of his hands, the other tightly gripping his book and depositing it on the tabletop in front of him. "How can you say this so nonchalantly?" It was his almost inaudible muffled whisper.

"Because watching you become a blushy-blushed mess is sooo fun. ~"

Another nuzzle, Logan scrunched his neck, containing his reactions.

"Now, now, Re. Teasing Logan about how he is the most adorably-adorable bumblebee when he gets all blush-y and soft-y about tickling isn't very nice." Patton chirped from his spot, almost finished from doing the dishes, since the most serious of their group had been responsible for their breakfast and Remus would be making their dinner today. He could even pass as being very serious if it wasn’t for the smirk on his features betraying his words. "You know he can't stand hearing the word tickle. Or tickling. Or tickly."

"Or ticklish, or tiggle, or even tickle, tickle, tickle-"

In a smooth, quick movement, Logan turned his body, now being the one encircling the taller waist with his arms, fingers clawing on his sides, but not moving. Yet.

"That is enough of you, squeaky toy."

And Remus knew that just their previous playful banter had been more than enough to prompt Logan to get some revenge.

However…

Seeing him like this was just too much fun.

His eyes glinted, a grin expanding on his face. "He is sooo flustered. Pat! Look at him! Isn't he adorable?"

"I know, right!" Patton squealed in delight at the tiny, infinitesimal smile showing on the most serious one, ignoring Logan's grunt as he tried to hide his face in Remus' shoulder, grumbling something about teases and stupid, confident friends "But we can't be mean with him, sweetpea. Even if he is so precious and full of such beautiful reactions that makes us want to tease him over and over and over again." He whispered the last part, as if he was sharing a secret and the person they were talking about wasn't dying in the middle of their room.

"Even his ears are red, now!!" Remus also lowered his voice, blowing a light steam of air on them as he talked. "You're the one being mean to me.” Logan more felt than saw Remus pointing a finger accusingly to the other, “telling me I can't tease him even knowing he will be all helpless and shy and cute.”

"I would like to state that I hate you."

"Shhh, Lo-lo! We're whispering! Which means you can't hear us."

Snickers floated freely in the air. Logan’s warning jab at Remus’ side only made part of them evolve to amused crackles.

"I am literally between you two, unless you talk in a language I do not master nor understand I can very much process the exact meaning of what you're pronouncing."

They giggled harder. Logan's scoff deepened, he tried to untangle himself from the hold and walk away to the security of his room and his valorous notebooks where he could carefully think and plan a very special, tickly revenge for both, but a soft kiss on his flaming cheeks placated his impulse, - although not his mostly dramatic scoff and roll of eyes.

"Patton!!!!” The one wearing a green pajama whined as if the world was ending and he was not the one to blame because of that, drops of fake-sadness dripping on his tune. “He is even pouting!”

"FALSEHOOD!"

“That is not fair!! Not. Fair."

"Okay, okay, my dear.” Patton gave in, calm words. Logan looked smugly at Remus, who was now in the hold of the pout.

“You can tease him more, but just a little."

Logan squeaked when Remus triumphally shoved his face on his neck, working his way across the spot, mustache tickling and itching, until he was able to deliver a couple of nibbles right under his chin, drinking up the muffled yelps and snickers that that caused.

Patton's gentle voice hit his ears just as he threw his head back in an attempt to escape the attack. "Just say 'glasses’ and we stop, okay?"

Remus didn't say anything, although he stopped his attack, a hand finding his and squeezing reassuringly. The shorter smiled, a warmth flooding on his chest and pouring out of it in the way softness found the corner of his eyes, immediately hiding any hint of it on Remus' shoulder and nodding. Quiet, mumbled words.

"Green."

“Aw, what is the matter? Not so serious now, are we?” Remus purred, each word vibrating on his skin. “What a shame, what a shame, what a sad end for our rational, professional nerd boy. Just a few tickles here,” he quickly pinched the other’s thigh, making the arms tight around his waist, consequently pulling him closer, “some attention there,” nails found and traced whatevers on the length of his lower back, “a couple of teases and tickles aaand then you’re already all defeated. Aww, my poor, poor, sensitive ler. ~”

His confident tone was broken by a squeal when the fingers resting on his sides squeezed that spot, wiggling for a few seconds before stopping, enough for the taller to try to squirm away, only to find himself well stuck on the arms securing him in the same place. His gaze found danger on Logan’s glare.

“Oh,” shivers ran his spine, “is that so?” Another squeak flew from him when the fingers curled, nails grazing the ticklish skin. “Please, care to elaborate?”

Remus' excitement was written over his entire face. He began to bounce, however his giddy energy was controlled enough for him to be able to lower his head, a shit eating grin plastered on his lips, hands locking behind the other’s neck, exposing even more the spots on his torso.

"Do your worst, my ler. ~"

“Gasp! Lo-lo!” Logan blinked and, oh, when he opened his eyes Patton was on his vision field, with an adorable pout and arms crossed. “I can’t believe you’re going to tickle him first. I thought I was your favorite Gigglebug!”

Another grunt escaped from his lips. That was it. Logan was done.

“Patton…” He warned, mind already running to how to turn the tables before he got caught on their teases again.

“You’re definitely our favorite gigglebug, Pattycake.” Remus nodded, extending one of his arms behind him and pulling Patton swiftly when they locked their hands, succeeding in making them both sandwich the taller in a hug. He danced his fingers on the other’s neck, making his pout disappear in a soft huff. “Buuut, I have the best snorts and squeals here. So, sorry not sorry, it seems like I will be getting all the tickles today.”

“No, no!” Patton quickly jumped in on the playful demeanor, smiling and clinging on Logan from behind, bubbly giggles already escaping from his mouth. “My ler!!” He nuzzled between his shoulder blades, the sudden move leading the coffee-addicted one to arch his back, a silent gasp escaping from his lips.

“You are both being ridicuLOUS-” His voice hitched as Patton focused on a rather… sensitive spot on his back, too much next to his ribs and not away enough from his spine. “P-p-patton. Sssstop!”

Unfortunately, the fact of him holding the wrists of the hands resting peacefully under his armpits, trying to pry Patton away also meant he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the dangerous gleam surging on Remus’ eyes, nor the way his hands clawed in the air for a few seconds before descending on Logan’s hips, fishing a surprised shriek.

“REMUS!”

The aforementioned only smirked, thumbs digging on the ticklish flesh with ease, batting his eyelashes when Logan's awareness turned back at him, legs trying to kick himself away as his body squirmed in despair with the unexpected ruthless attack. “You’re going to tickle me first, right, nerd?”

“No!!” The adult didn’t even get a chance to answer before kisses were being deposited on the sides of his neck, an index finger tickling that exact spot where it connected with his back, switching between encircling the spot to lightly scribble, scribble, scribble right on the middle on it, being careful to not let a single inch unattended. “I am the first! You’re such an amazing, lovely and good Ler, Logan! I won’t even cover my face this time! All the giggles and laughter and smiles just for you, cutiepants.”

“Well, with me,” he highlighted the word by energetically scratching his others, previous free, fingers on his sides, delighted with the way the shorter’s laughter improved with it, “we can play all the tickle, tickly games he wants to! Hands up, Countdown, Don’t Smile, How Much Minutes Can You Endure… You name it, hot mess.”

And a mess he was, indeed. Especially when Patton decided to pull his shirt up, slowly spidering his hands under the fabric, a tingly sensation following his path, and giggling as he prodded his way up to skitter his long, absurdly, horribly, amazingly long nails on the back of his ribs, sending shivers and tingles non stop on his torso. Both attackers cooing in synchrony as guffaws and squeaks started to paint his frantic laughter.

“Lo-lo, don’t listen to him! I can help you to sing those nice, cute nursery rhymes that you like so much, remember? I love when we sing them together because you’re so great, smart and mean about it! Always doing things like crawling your fingers up, up, up, our ribs…” he punctuated his sentences by doing exactly what he described, “and then running them aaaaaall their way back to the sides!”

“Wait!! Damn! Wait, please, wahahahait!”

“Or when he discovers a new, horrible, unbearable spot,” Remus ignored the series of ‘nonono’s from the ‘victim’ as he focused two fingers on the patch of skin above his bellybutton, poking and pinching there, his free hand holding down the wrist that shoot in order to stop him “and he focuses all his attention on it, being sure to thoroughly tickle it and to remember us that we can wiggle and giggle all we want because we do absolutely nothing to stop it.”

“And also, how much we love all of this! All the attention,” Patton kissed behind his left ear, traveling to the other with small raspberries when Logan clued it on his shoulder, shaking his head, “all the care,” kiss “all the teases,” a big raspberry “all the tickles,” a series of tender, soft pecks along his cheeks and ears “and how much happy that makes us feel!!”

“And the best part? We will go on and on tickling you for hours and hours until we are all satisfied.”

“I can’t! I cahahan’t!”

“Yup!! We will just stay riiight here, giving you all the kitty kitty coo’s and coothie coothie coo’s you could ever want until we ask us to stop, okay? So, you just relax and enjoy it, Logie-bear.”

“Plehehease!”

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, nerd. What with that smile? Can’t take what you like to dish out? Tsk, such a pity, really. You know what is even greater, though? You can beg, you can say you’re sorry, you can promise to do anything we want but that won’t work. Do you know why?” Logan shook his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Because there is no reason for me to be doing this other than see you get tickled to pieces.”

“Oh no, my dear, it seems like the tickle monsters got you! Isn’t that amazing? Having two lovely monsters who knows all your melt, fluff spots giving you exactly what you love? Knowing precisely what to do or what to say to make you a cute, adorable puddle of laughter and giggles that you so much love and crave to be? Huh? You absolutely love this, don’t you, my blushy bear?”

“Enough! Enough!” Logan’s legs gave up, and in between his wheezing laughter, his yelps, squeaks and pleas a breathless ‘glasses’ made itself known, leading the tickling to a stop and to the three of them to lay carefully on the kitchen’s floor. Happy chuckles filling the silence.

Silence.

“So, did you choose which one of us you will tickle first?”

“Actually, Pat-Pat, I think we make a great team.”

Patton flung himself to the other, hugging him with a squeal. Remus couldn’t help but to reciprocate the touch, cooing over his excitement. “We do!!”

“I agree.” Maybe it was how much closer and lower Logan’s voice was, or because of the thousands of memories that tune brought that made both froze so instantly, goosebumps traveling across their bodies with shots of adrenaline. “And I am sure you will make a much more endearing one, with matching helpless laughter and excited smiles, when I catch you. ‘When’ and not ‘if’, because I will find and catch you two, my ticklish lees. And when we are all reunited I am certain you will love all the ideas and experiments I have for you.” They slowly turned back, joyful expressions as their gaze found the malefic, playful glint shining along with the slightly blush on the Logan’s face.

“You have five seconds.”

Patton grabbed Remus’ hand, pulling them up.

“Run.”

#:D #Honestly I saw the idea of tickling the ler until they tickle you back and this is just so mind blow I had to write something #asdfghjdfghjfghj #Logan being a shy ler is my everything #Remus and Patton woke up and choose violence/j #Ler!Patton #Ler!Remus #Lee!Logan #welll.. kind of #Ticklish!Logan #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic #one day I will post this idea without feeling silly but that day is not today sdfghjdfrghyuj. I am proud of this tho <3 #mouth tickles #raspberries e tickly kisses #rough and light tickles

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ladynestaarcheron · 3 years

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Fears All the Way Down - Chapter Five

ao3 - masterpost

hello, my dears. here's chapter five, without too much fanfare. enjoy<3

---

The morning of her first self-defense lesson with Cassian, Nesta awakes to a cool breeze blowing in the scent of roses from her open window.

"Good morning," Nesta says, smiling slightly. "I guess you liked my gift."

She had finished it yesterday, in the jewelry-making session. It had taken her the better part of the day. A sort of cover for the cracked, broken part of the walls the Illyrians had destroyed. Golden and gleaming and prettier than the beige paint around it, but complementing all the same.

And now the House, apparently, is showing her affection for it: a new rose bush outside of her room, fat flowers dangling down over the top of her window. A very pretty frame for her already spectacular view of the city.

The House gives her different clothes today, too. A fitted shirt, and a knee-length loose skirt, with leggings underneath. As close to pants as she'll wear. By Cassian's slight approving nod when she meets him after breakfast, he approves.

"We'll be starting on the roof," he says, in lieu of a greeting.

She nods once. She remembers hearing him, back in that awful first week here-goodness, but it's not yet been a full month since then, and it feels so long ago-hearing him up there, throwing knives around or whatever it was he did. She guesses she'll soon find out.

The crispness of the morning mountain air hits her in full force, but Cassian doesn't act like it fazes him at all. In fact, judging by the way his wings spread slightly wider, he likes it.

"All right," he says. "Let's begin."

The hour ticks by, slowing and speeding up depending on moments when Cassian touches her. There's none of his usual chatter or teasing; he's serious and unsmiling. The training ring is probably sacred to him.

Serious and unsmiling, but not discouraging. He's generous with his praise when she achieves his simple tasks-too generous, she thinks, but perhaps he has some ulterior motive.

Or perhaps, a small voice inside her head says, he's relieved you'll finally know how to defend yourself, and he means it.

It's not as daunting as it had seemed at first, this self defense. He's good for their agreement; this isn't training. He takes all her weaknesses and her proposed attacker's strengths into consideration and shows her how to maneuver past it all. How to cause an assailant-even one as big and strong as he is-to let her go when they grab her arms tightly in front, how to move her legs when she's caught in a chokehold, and how to break free when someone grabs her from behind.

"I guess no one will be able to pull onto your hair, though," he muses, more to himself than to her. "Keep your arms at your sides; you don't want them to get in the way of this one," he adds, mercifully changing the subject too quickly before he can notice her expression.

No one can pull on her hair now, that's the whole point. But they had, they had, rough enough that strands came out and she had no way to escape. What if she had known these tricks then? Would she have had a prayer? Would she still be human? Elain? And what of Father, would he still be alive? Or would it not have mattered; only delayed her certain torture and death, because she had been human, and they had been Fae, and in the end, that was all-

"Arms like this, Nesta," Cassian says, switching from mock-assailant to instructor as he gently tucks her arms against her sides, and drawing her out of her head to the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands on hers, his body behind her. His wings block out the wind, and she can feel the warmth radiating from him to her core. "Because you don't want them to get in the way of when you break out...and why else?"

"So I don't use them to hurt myself," she says, repeating his words from earlier.

"Right...good. Let's do this one again. One last time."

She takes a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"Yes." She doesn't hesitate. She doesn't need to. He doesn't let her feel trapped.

"All right, I'm grabbing you now-good!"

For she is ready for him, this time. He wraps his arms around her from behind, his arms trapping hers at her elbows, and she instantly draws them in like he instructed. Without waiting for his prompting, she gathers her strength and throws her head upwards and backwards, like he had shown her, and then leaps away as his arms fly open.

"Good, Nesta!" he says, eyes shining as she turns around. He isn't hurt; he keeps moving away for this one so she doesn't do any real damage. "You would've hit his neck there...normally, I'd say go for the chin, but neck's really good...at that speed, with that force, really good..." He grins broadly at her, his first smile of the morning, and after an hour of being in instructor-Cassian's presence, she blinks at the easy switch.

"You did really well," he says, after handing her a glass of water. "Did you...how was it for you?"

She shrugs slightly. "All right." It wasn't fun. But it was hardly suffering. And the movements, following Cassian's instructions...a good way to keep herself focused.

"Would you...do you want to continue?" His voice is casual, but from the careful way he does not meet her eyes, she can tell he is tense.

"Yes," she says, trying to keep her voice casual too.

He brightens, and something inside her dims automatically. His...elation, relief, whatever this spark is, at seeing her agree to do this...it feels, somehow, as though she is doing something wrong. She is cheating or lying. She does not deserve this, is not worthy of his joy. Of him.

"It's not healthy to do workouts every day," he says, "especially...when you're in recovery."

When you're weak, he means. When one is ill and emaciated-even if she is getting better, and trying, it's not going to be enough-never enough-

"So I think...Mondays and Tuesdays...and Thursdays and Fridays? If you'd like to do this long term, I mean."

Nesta blinks. "How long-term?"

He shrugs. "Till you want to stop, I guess."

She purses her lips slightly. "Don't you have...I mean, will you be able to do this four times a week, indefinitely? Don't you have..." An occupation, she wants to say. Running the strongest military on their island, maybe one of the strongest in the world. "You don't have the time," she decides on instead.

He does it again. His deep hazel eyes latch onto hers and don't let her go. She doesn't have a prayer of looking away until he lets her. There's not enough self-defense lessons in the world for her to be strong enough to fight this off.

"I always have time for you, Nesta."

She shivers, and it doesn't have anything to do with the crisp wind under the weak October sun.

He moves his head, and lets her go.

"So tomorrow, then," he says.

"Tomorrow," she echoes. She doesn't stay to watch him fly off.

---

Nesta had done incredibly well. Spectacularly. And she had looked even better.

He had stayed up half the night before, wondering if she was going to show up in pants. She hadn't, but the skirt she had worn had gone only to her knees. The shortest he'd seen her in by far. And her black top...like a second skin. A healthier skin, almost normal. Not translucent any longer. Covering a softer body. More curves, like she used to have. Bones not protruding so much. Golden hair shining in the dim light, coiled and braided like a princess', like a queen's. She even has it up when she goes to sleep, he'd learned during her first week here. Does she ever wear it down? Only to bathe, probably. And what does she look like then, with this slight new weight, this perfect skin, this beautiful hair reaching he doesn't even know how far down...He'd only allowed himself a few moments of ogling her before violently shoving out all thoughts anywhere near the realm of lust from his mind. The training ring was not for this.

Feyre and Elain are beside themselves with happiness, as he knew they would be, when he tells them how it went.

"She agreed to more lessons," Feyre says in wonderment.

"It can only be a good thing," Elain says, tugging on a stray lock of hair.

"Yes," Feyre agrees. "But...maybe, considering...you know. Your history." She shoots him an apologetic look. "Maybe it'd be best if..."

Cassian's heart rate picks up. "You think someone else should teach her?" No, his instincts tell him. She had asked him. She wants him to do it.

But he knows he'll give in. If her sisters think it would be better...because it's her that matters. Not what he wants. What matters is her getting better.

Oh, but he knows he can be the person to help her. Or one of the people, at least. If she just lets him.

Mercifully, Feyre says, "No, no, not that. Just...maybe you could do with a chaperone? Azriel or-well, no, not Rhys. But maybe it would be good for Az to drop by occasionally...what do you think?"

"That's not a bad idea," he admits. A buffer. He could do with one.

"So, what are you teaching her, exactly?" Elain asks.

"Just some self defense. Breaking away from an assailant, today." But maybe, in time, he can convince her to do more. More general exercise, maybe even some offensive techniques. "There was something at the House," he adds. "On the wall where the Illyrians attacked."

"What?"

"This gold...thing. Covering the damage the Illyrians did to it." He clenches his jaw at the memory.

"I thought the House was magic now," Elain says. "Couldn't it have fixed itself up."

"Nesta made it," he says. "She told it she was going to fix it, so..."

The wall had been as fine as any other in the House, in any one of Rhys' homes, before the attack. Painted well, a warm beige, and decorated with any number of ornate pictures and mirrors and shelves for vases and whatnot. But now, the wall was white and bare but for the swirling metal covering the cracks and craters.

Cassian understands. If Nesta had made something for him, he'd want it to be the only thing people saw when they looked at him.

"She made something?" Feyre asks, eyes widening slightly.

"She did say she had that jewelery thing...she said she liked it."

"I never thought of Nesta as an artist before," Feyre says, quieter. "She never had any patience for painting when I showed her."

"Well, I'm sure she doesn't think of herself as an artist...I got the impression she liked it as a way to calm herself down."

"Do you think? What does she need calming down from? Is she-is she angry, do you think?"

Feyre and Elain continue to discuss Nesta and guess at her thoughts and motives while Cassian sits and desperately wishes he could only ask her.

---

Thalia asks to see her as soon as she's available, so Nesta tells Gwyn she'll see her after lunch and heads down to her office.

"Good morning," Thalia says, smiling up at her from her couch.

Nesta sits opposite her. "Hello."

"You're looking refreshed."

"I started...some self-defense. Just a little. With, um, Cassian." Does she know Cassian, Nesta wonders. Probably. He's the kind of person everyone knows.

"Really?" Thalia says, sounding impressed. "How wonderful!"

Nesta shrugs a little.

"Well, I think that comes at a perfect time, actually."

Nesta's eyes shoot up. "Why?" she asks, wary.

"I think I've settled on an idea to help you tackle your goals. I wanted to know what you think."

"All right," Nesta says, after a beat. "What is it?"

Thalia tilts her head back slightly, chin set. Oh, this should be good. "What do you think about keeping a log and schedule of trying new things?"

She sucks in her bottom lip before saying, "Trying new things? How does that help me with my goals?" It seems like Thalia is trying to push her own agenda over actually helping Nesta achieve hers.

"It'll get you in the habit of doing things you aren't used to," Thalia says, patient. "It'll keep you focused on something. It might bring new joys or interests into your life, perhaps personally, or perhaps by bonding with others. And it'll greatly increase your confidence and self-esteem."

Nesta blinks. "That's not one of my goals."

"I know, dear. It's one of mine."

Nesta looks down. "It's..." She forces herself to say the words she would normally just drown in inside her own mind. "Just hard to remember sometimes."

"What's hard to remember?" Gentle, not prodding.

She swallows hard. It sounds so stupid inside her head. How will it sound out loud? "That I'm actually supposed to...get better. Sometimes it feels like that's the wrong thing to do." She bites her tongue-she hadn't meant for that part to come out.

But Thalia never acts like what she's saying is pathetic, even if it is.

"How does it feel wrong?"

Nesta sighs. Not out of irritation over the question, just because she isn't quite sure how to answer. "It's...I don't know. Sometimes one just knows a thing is wrong."

"Hm," Thalia says. Considering, thoughtful. "Well, at any rate, your self-defense lesson today can count as your new thing for the day."

"Well-wait, for the day? You want me to do one new thing per day?"

Thalia's lip quirk. "How often did you think I was asking you?"

"I don't know. A week, maybe."

"I don't think so. Once a day, please. Don't forget to track them all. Write them down. Run along, now, Nesta, and if you could take these books with you? Thank you."

Gwyn finds her putting Thalia's books back on the fifth level. "So, how did it go with Thalia? And with your training session with Lord Cassian?"

Lord Cassian. She'll never get used to that. "News travels fast, I see," she says primly.

"You know it does. How did it go?"

"It went...all right."

"Which one?" Gwyn takes a book from Nesta's hands and puts it on a shelf over her head.

"Both of them. Actually, I think the lesson with Cassian went better," she says in surprise, after reflecting. "And it wasn't training. It was just some self-defense."

"Same difference. What happened with Thalia?"

"She's making me try one new thing a day."

"One per day? Every day?" Gwyn shudders. "I can't believe you go along with everything she says. All her meetings and exercises and now this self-defense...You must be four times as brave as I am, at least."

Nesta winces.

"What are you going to do?" Gwyn continues, either not noticing Nesta's discomfort or respectfully ignoring it. "For your new things, I mean."

"I don't know," Nesta says, weighing two books, as if debating between her options for tomorrow and all the tomorrows after. "I guess...try every fruit I haven't?" Gwyn laughs. "I don't know what she expects me to do."

"I'm sure you'll think of things. You're...you'll do better than the rest of us. You do better than the rest of us. It's so obvious, how much you want to live." She says it confidently, assuredly, her teal eyes set.

Nesta bites her lip. "I did really want to live," she says quietly. That night in Hybern. She had fought with everything she had. The whole way to the Cauldron, and even after, inside it. She hadn't stopped. "I...can't..."

"I know," Gwyn says, voice soft as Nesta's. "You can't remember why. It's all right. You will. I can tell."

Nesta blinks rapidly. She's not about to cry. She's not. She just...she doesn't know what she is.

"I can't believe it's not even noon," she mumbles.

Gwyn chuckles. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your day's hardly going to be a quiet one. Calliope wants you all afternoon."

She likes Calliope, generally, so that's not so awful. "For what?"

Gwyn shrugs. "Sorting through her papers, probably. Maybe she wants you as an assistant."

If Nesta gets assigned to a High Priestess, than she doesn't have to do these menial tasks anymore. Of course, there's no promise that the priestess she'll be assisting won't have her own miserable things for her to do...Merrill, Gwyn's priestess, is a royal pain, Nesta knows...

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," Gwyn says. "Wearing your dress backwards or eating starfruit."

"Ha," Nesta says flatly.

Gwyn laughs once more before going, unbound copper hair flowing behind her.

She's wrong, Nesta knows, about her being braver than anyone else. About her being brave at all. All she's doing now is what other people are telling her. Go see Calliope in her office, Nesta. Come sit with Thalia on the third level, Nesta. Tell Clotho if you liked Daphne's lecture, Nesta. Simple motions, simple movements. Nothing brave about it.

"Now again on the left, Nesta. Good. Good."

It's Thursday morning, and Cassian is the one ordering her about. Sometimes she thinks he sounds like any one of the priestess, with how he talks to her in these lessons, which makes her feel...she isn't sure. It's odd, certainly. Considering all the ways they used to talk to each other. Barbed insults, right in the House, to the other end of the spectrum. The words that cycle in her head some nights, the newest among them being I always have time for you, Nesta...and, of course, intermittent praises from when she does well.

"Excellent. Keep your torso just like that...now with your arms just as I-yes!"

There's really not any bravery required, Nesta decides. Not when the priestesses are all eager to do anything that encourages the girls to, well, do anything, and not when Cassian is...himself. Even now that Azriel, the member of her sister's circle Nesta is wont to consider her favorite if only because he never talks to her, has started showing up for a few minutes every session. Even he, with his face more closed off than Amren's (back when they were on speaking terms), and those dark shadows of his...even he does not discourage her.

Their hour ends, and he watches her drink two glasses of water-discreetly, drinking some himself, too-before turning to leave.

"Um," she says, voice slightly louder than it needs to be.

He pauses. Turns. Waits.

She can't look away again-his eyes-but she has to say something, doesn't she? What was it she was going to say?

"I seem to be doing well," she blurts out. Then flushes crimson.

He grins. "You're doing very well, Nesta."

She smooths her skirt, as if that'll somehow help her regain composure. "What I mean is," she says, voice hopefully not wobbly, "these...lessons...seem to be doing me good."

His grin gets smaller, but his eyes grow soft. "I...am very glad to hear that."

"I mean they help me feel...better. I feel better. Stronger. And I don't get so distracted all the time. And I...don't think about drinking so much." That's true, she realizes. In fact, she hasn't wanted a drink since...Monday? Sunday? She can't even be sure.

Cassian inhales sharply. "Good," he says, rather faint. "That's...that's so good, Nesta."

"So I was wondering if maybe you thought that...because I thought...well, I-I don't know, but maybe..." Stammering, tripping over her own words, it's just-

I have never in my life thought you were pathetic.

She nearly gasps, the words playing in her mind so clear in his eyes it's almost as though she can hear him saying them aloud.

"I thought maybe some other girls would like to join. If you don't mind. Having some more of us."

Cassian blinks. "I...I don't. I don't mind at all. I think that's a great idea, actually."

"Well, I also thought," Nesta starts, encouraged, "that since, you know, you've wanted that female Illyrian legion for so long-" he blinks again, evidently unaware that she knows that-"maybe you could also see if some Illyrian girls wanted to join. Just to see if they have a taste for...any of this."

Cassian's mouth falls open slightly and his hand goes to his forehead. "I...can't believe I never thought of this myself, actually," he admits. "Self-defense as a sort of gateway...that's actually really fucking brilliant, Nesta."

She huffs a sound of amusement at his swearing; it's been so long since she's heard any curse, as the priestesses are all so pious and proper. He starts at the sound.

"Well," she says, ducking her head to busy herself with her skirt so he doesn't see her color again. "I have to go bathe and..."

"Oh, yeah. All right. Well...so Monday? With some other girls?"

"If they want," Nesta says. "I don't know if anyone will want..."

"Well, you just let them know. Maybe ask Clotho..."

"I will. And...will you go to that camp? Windhaven?"

"Windhaven?" he asks.

"I met a shopkeeper..."

"Emerie?"

"Oh," she says. "You know her."

"She's the only female shopkeeper," he says. "We've met."

"I talked to her a little. I think she might be interested. I think she has some friends who might like it, too."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "I didn't know...I assumed-well, never mind. All right, Nesta. Goodbye, then. And great idea, really. And..." he trails off. She looks up to see him smiling. "You did really well. I mean it."

She nods, just once. But then she says, "Thank you."

She can't quite believe she said that. But judging by the way his grin widens enough to show all his teeth, it's something he's been waiting a while to hear.

#nessian #nesta archeron #nessian fic #once again i never have any idea what to tag this #anyway excited that this is getting more into it #the fic i mean #i'm really excited for the next chapter when we see the girls #can't wait for nesta to have friends omg

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

Dress Up (Ethan x MC)

Summary: On Halloween night, Ethan gets a big surprise

A/N: Okay so this was the tooth rotting fluff I was talking about earlier this week.

A/N 2: I haven’t written something this short in years. Issa miracle

A/N 3: Happy Halloween! Enjoy!

~v~

The words on the paper in front of Ethan start to blur together the longer he stares at the page. He’s been at the hospital for nearly 18 hours and it’s finally starting to have an effect on him, the exhaustion finally creeping in.

It’s been a long shift. He put in some hours in the free clinic on top of helping with his patient for the diagnostics team, and dealt with a particularly exhausting meeting with a few other department heads. On top of the usual business, it’s Halloween, and the holiday has never bode well for the hospital. By the time midnight rolls around, the ER is typically packed with college students and other young 20-somethings that have gotten way too drunk, started fights, and injured themselves.

His cell phone rings and he reaches into his coat pocket to retrieve it. His mood instantly perks up when he sees ‘Naomi R’ flash across the screen accompanied by a picture of his wife’s smiling face.

It takes him mere seconds to answer the phone, balancing it delicately between his shoulder and ear. “Hello?”

“Hi handsome,” Naomi greets back.

The cheeriness in her voice cheers him up slightly. While it’s been less than a day, he’s missed the sound of her voice. “Hi.”

“What are you doing?”

“My job,” Ethan deadpans.

“Obviously smarty-pants. Are you working hard or hardly working?”

“I'm always working hard,” Ethan insists. “I’m trying to prepare myself for how busy the ER is going to be once the sun goes down. I hate Halloween.”

“You hate everything.”

“I hate pointless consumer holidays,” Ethan says. “Especially ones that promote candy and alcohol consumption.”

“Oh, so all the fun ones,” Naomi teases. “Where are you? Are you in the office?”

“Yes, I’m taking a break right now.”

“Perfect. Open the door.”

“Open the–” Ethan looks up, intrigued. He can’t make out any figures on the other side of the door, the frosted glass not doing him any favors. Either his lovely wife had food delivered for him, or she’s pulling some sort of Halloween trick on him. “Why?”

“It’s a surprise, so open the door.”

Deciding to play along, Ethan gets up from his huge leather chair and in a few quick strides, he’s on the other side of the room, opening the door. Looking straight ahead he doesn’t immediately see anyone standing outside. He should’ve known this was some prank of hers.

“Hi, daddy!”

The tiny voice cuts through the otherwise silent hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan sees a tiny blur practically flying towards him. The small figure collides with him with a soft thud, wrapping around him tightly.

“Oof!”

Chuckling to himself, Ethan glances down at the 3 year old clutching his pant legs like a life raft. “You are very strong for a toddler.”

“Valentina Marie Ramsey, what have I told you about running away from me!” Naomi’s voice is what captures Ethan’s attention as she speed-walks down the hall in an effort to make it to the office.

Ethan looks her up and down, confused. She’s wearing her work clothes, a simple blouse, pencil skirt and her white coat, as well as her purse and a plastic bag from CVS hanging off of her shoulder. Naomi isn’t supposed to be working today and she never dresses this formally in their casual life outside of work. “Did you take a shift?”

“Daddy, look, we're doctors because it’s Halloween!” Valentina says, garnering her dad’s attention.

The couple had given up on picking a costume for Valentina over a week ago, as the precocious toddler wasn’t good at picking one thing and sticking to it. In the past month, she’s wanted to be a pirate, a bear, a fairy, a princess, a princess fairy, and Baby Shark.

Ethan looks down at her and sees she has on a white coat of her own, one that is entirely too big for her which only makes her look that much more adorable. He smiles at her. “You make a very cute doctor, my darling.”

“Mommy says doctors are supposed to be very smart, not cute,” Valentina corrects, and while she’s already the spitting image of her mother, she sounds just like her too. She’s just as stubborn and argumentative.

“You’re the smartest 3 year old I know,” Ethan says honestly. As if a child born to him and Naomi would be anything but.

“You promise?”

“I pinky promise.”

“We were just coming by to show off our costumes, and to grab my doctor’s bag,” Naomi says. She leans forward and presses a soft kiss onto Ethan’s lips, one he doesn’t let end to quickly. Wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist, he pulls her in closer to deepen the kiss. 18 hours is far too long to go without her.

The kiss is broken up by Valentina aggressively wedging herself between the two of them. “No kissing.”

Naomi pulls away with an eye roll. “Okay, okay.” Leaving the doorway, Ethan moves backwards and allows them inside the office. Naomi instantly goes behind Ethan’s desk and grabs her physician’s bag. She usually doesn’t carry it unless the diagnostics team has to make a house call, and she empties it, making it easier for Valentina to carry around and use it as a candy bag. Before she hands it over, she empties the plastic bag she’s holding, a box of pink band-aids, popsicle sticks (aka tongue depressors), a roll of stickers, and a pair of small reading glasses fall onto the table.

Ethan watches as Naomi puts the final touches on Valentina’s costume. “Why the glasses?”

“Because you wear glasses,” Valentina answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Ethan raises an eyebrow in question, not understanding the point Valentina is trying to make. He turns to Naomi for further clarification.

“Val didn’t want to be any old doctor,” Naomi says. “She wanted to be...you.”

“Mommy said I can wear your big doctor coat!” Valentina exclaims.

And that’s when Ethan notices she is in fact wearing his spare white coat; Dr. Ethan Ramsey, M.D., F.A.C.P., stitched into it underneath Edenbrook’s logo.

While he already thought his three year old dressing up as a doctor was a sight to behold, something inside his chest warms as the thought of her wanting to be dressed up as him. Her entire world is comprised of doctors, but she wants to be a mini him.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been silent until Valentina tugs on his hand. “Are you okay, daddy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Ethan assures her with a smile. He crouches down so they’re able to look each other eye-to-eye. “Daddy is just very happy that you want to wear my coat, that’s all.” Valentina does a spin for him, spurred on by the positive affirmation and Ethan looks up, catching Naomi’s eye. “She wants to be me, not you.”

“Whatever. She looks like me, so when people see us together, she’ll automatically assume she’s dressed up as me.”

“But you and I both know the real intent. You know, I think your costume is missing something.” Reaching around his neck, Ethan takes off his stethoscope and drapes it around her instead. “There. Now you make a perfect Ethan Ramsey.”

“So now I have to make you feel better,” Valentina says. Dramatically, she places her hand on Ethan’s forehead, as if she’s taking his temperature. “Uh-oh.”

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Ethan asks.

“You have a boo-boo,” she replies matter-of-factly. “But I can make it all better.” With some help from her mother, Valentina manages to open the box of band-aids. She sticks one on her dad’s cheek, just above his mustache, and follows that up by kissing his cheek. “There! How do you feel?”

“I feel much better,” Ethan says. “Thank you for being such a good doctor.”

“You’re welcome.” She then shoves a big Hello Kitty sticker into the palm of Ethan’s hand. “And you get a sticker for being good.”

“Even better.” Ethan tugs on one of Valentina’s curls, earning a giggle.

A few more minutes pass, with Naomi and Ethan snapping as many pictures as they possibly can and Valentina putting a few more band-aids on her parents.

The door opens and Baz comes in this time, eyes downcast as he’s staring at a file. “Hey Ethan, Dr. Banerji wanted to–” he stops short, laughing as he zeroes in on the bright pink band-aids covering Ethan. “That is quite the look you got going for yourself, Ethan.”

“I’ll have you know that my lovely doctor here put these bandages on me.”

Baz’s grin turns into a wide smile as he takes in Valentina’s appearance. “Well aren’t you the cutest doctor I’ve ever seen, Teeny!”

“I’m not a cute doctor, I’m a smart doctor, Uncle Baz,” Valentina practically growls.

“I apologize for the mistake.”

Naomi glances at the large clock hanging behind Ethan’s desk. “Okay, Val, we have to go so we can get some candy before it gets too dark. Say bye-bye to daddy.”

Valentina wraps her tiny arms around Ethan’s neck, squeezing tightly. “Bye daddy. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

As Naomi gathers up all of their things, Valentina tells him all about how she can’t wait to show off her costume and get candy. It was her first time trick-or-treating, as Naomi and Ethan decided it was better to wait until she was a bit older before participating in the holiday.

Her excitement is palpable and Ethan can’t help but to feel excited too. And while it’s true he’s no fan of Halloween, the thought of not witnessing it through his daughter’s eyes makes his chest tight. “How long do you plan on taking her around?”

“An hour,” Naomi answers. “I think that appropriate enough time for a 3 year old, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Ethan turns to Baz. “Do you think you can hold down the fort for an hour?”

Baz shrugs. “Sure. But only if you bring me back a Reese’s peanut butter cup.”

“That can be arranged.” Ethan stands up, his arms still firmly secured around Valentina. “Come on, Dr. and Dr Ramsey, we have some trick or treating to do.

~v~

Tags: @professorkingslay @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @bluebellot @kaavyaethanramsey @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #halloween

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

That Would Be Enough

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Look at where you are

Look at where you started

The fact that you're alive is a miracle

Just stay alive, that would be enough

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Summary: Dumbledore is dead and the pieces start to fall apart or in to place...

A/n: Okay guys, this is a great chapter because you get to look into the past and into the future and also you get to see the loose ends start to tie themselves... who’s ready for this to end soon? Not me, but at least I’m figuring out how I want to end it. Also, my postings will be a bit more sporadic because I’m in college and have a job and so writing, though still fun takes energy that I rarely possess...

I stood and Draco was beside me. I looked to him frantically, wondering what was next. What would be next for the two of us?

There was hardly a moment to think for ourselves because beside us, Snape apparated into the foyer, causing my to jump in panic, into Draco’s arms. The professor seemed to take the sight of the two of us in, and something soft and sad was in his eyes before he recovered.

“Are you to unharmed?” He asked curtly. We nodded mutely.

Then the thought ran through my mind, or perhaps I had finally allowed myself to think it.

The man in front of us was a murderer.

The man in front of us saved Draco’s innocence. Something that I couldn’t even do.

My mind begged the question: was Snape good? All I could find were grey answers.

“Is it done?” Narcissa’s voice caught all of our attention.

“Yes,” Snape retorted. “And I expect the Dark Lord to be here any moment, so if you’d like to flee Miss Y/n, now would be the time,”

“I’m not running,” I declared defiantly—foolishly.

A loud crack sounded through the large Manor, and the air grew cold and foreboding. Draco registered what was occurring before I did. He protectively pushed me behind him as many more Death Eaters appeared around us until black flooded the green marble floors. They were all shouting in victory. They were all laughing and grinning. Even behind their masks, it wasn’t hard to understand their pure joy about the death of Dumbledore.

My fingers gripped Draco’s cloak as I went numb, by choice or perhaps not. My mind shut down and had gone to autopilot. One look in Draco’s eyes and I knew that he had as well. His hand still found mine, however. That was one thing, even numb, that would never change. Narcissa came behind me, holding my shoulders—comfortingly or defensively, I wasn’t sure.

One thing broke Draco’s perfect mask and made Narcissa gasp in terror. The sight of Lucius. I could barely make out a clear image of his father, only the long silver blond hair that I knew well. On the cold ground, Lucius looked desperately to something—someone.

The Dark Lord.

I could not mistake this being for anyone else. The creature that haunted my dreams and plagued my reality. Not meters from me. His cruelty revealed everything.

I had never seen the Dark Lord happy, but a gruesome smile distorted his ghastly face. My grip on Draco’s hand was so tight that my nails dung into his skin. If I had control, I would have lessened the pressure, but the control no longer belonged to me. Instead it belonged to the beast in long dark robes with blood red eyes.

Words left his lips, but I had no power to listen. It wasn’t until other people acted upon me that I had any reaction to the events around me.

Draco held firmly to my arm and Narcissa to my shoulders, refusing to let me go. To let me be pulled into the circle of Death Eaters next to Lucius.

“Ah, ah,” The Dark Lord refuted gently. “Come, bring the girl,”

Narcissa’s hands left regretfully and Draco met my eyes, terrified before he let me go too.

I was shoved into the middle of the circle of Death Eaters, wand gripped tightly in my hand. Before me, I could finally see Lucius—looking more ghostly than I had ever seen him, frail and defenseless. A storm of emotions overwhelmed me. Anger overpowered the others. He had hurt so many of the ones I loved. Not fifteen years ago did he kill me father in the same room.

Maybe I’d have the pleasure of vengeance after all.

“A gift for you my dear,” Voldemort purred, as if to read my thoughts. “I heard you were marvelous in using the Cruciatus Curse on Precious Potter, and I wonder if you’d like to display you skills again?”

My eyes flashed from hallow grey eyes to vivid red ones.

“You want me to...” my voice wavered. My anger fizzled out.

“Well of course, you did aid dear Draco in his mission, and were quite marvelous, I thought it might only be fitting to reward you,” His false kindness eerily swept through me, leaving me in uncertain ground. “Just think of all of the hurt Lucius has caused you. He murdered your father, abused the one you love for years and still he kneels there on the ground loathing you,”

In my mind I saw the death of my father again. The fruitless pleas that fell from his lips. The bright green flash that ended his life.

Tears stung my eyes as my gaze fell upon Lucius again.

Then I saw a shade of Draco in those troubled grey eyes: The night of the third trial and the absolute dread in Draco’s eyes. The night of the ball as this man spoke coldly to him. The breakdown Draco had not a month later. The need for healing potions to be on hand. All because of the man before me.

My lip quivered as the tears fell silently. But then my memories shifted.

To Draco chasing after me at the ball. Or the day we first kissed that summer. Seeing him on the train. The day he defended me from Umbridge. Every smile and every tear. The nights when he broke and the days when he was put back together.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

Then my eyes met Narcissa’s. They were frozen in shock and fear. I could see the desperate pleas in them to spare her husband’s life. A woman who went through two wars, desperate to keep her family together. Losing one sister to insanity and another to disownment. Losing a husband to hatred and a son to darkness. A woman who welcomed me with opened arms because she believed that I could pull her family back together, even for a little while. She had faith in me. In the kindness and goodness in me.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

“Crucio,” I whispered, the spell taking no effect on the man before me.

“Like you mean it my dear!” The Dark Lord encouraged. “Let out all of your hatred and anger! Every wrongdoing, every lie, every injustice!”

“Crucio!” I called out louder and still there was little effect. The circle of Death Eaters around me snickered, mocking me.

“She has had a long day My Lord,” Snape spoke up. “Perhaps she will be better suited in the morning after a night’s rest,”

Voldemort’s blood red eyes peered at me, but I was at peace. There was no thought for him to have. My mind was plate glass. A reflection for him to gaze upon.

“Perhaps,” The Dark Lord echoed. “Take her out of my sight,”

Again, I was grabbed and thrown hastily out of the circle and into not Draco’s arms, but Narcissa’s. There were tears in her eyes and a kind smile on her face as she led me upstairs to Draco and my shared room.

“Thank you,” She wrapped me up tightly in a hug. “That was a kindness I didn’t deserve,”

“My love for you and Draco outshines any malice I have towards Lucius,” I whispered. “You’re my family, and family sticks together,”

She pressed a kiss to my forehead and cradled me close. Tears fell down her face as soft sobs wracked her frame. There was a knock on the door causing us both to jump. Narcissa wiped her eyes quickly and composed herself opening the door only to meet Snape.

“They’ve gone, he requires medical attention,” His voice was soft and curt.

Without hesitation, I rushed to Draco’s bathroom grabbing three vials: healing, thoughts, and anxiety. I brushed past Snape and Narcissa, heading down the stairs to where Draco was cradling his father, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Here,” I knelt beside him, uncorking the first vial.

Draco and I worked like a well-oiled machine as the potions took their affect onto his father. Some color returned to his deathly face. Snape and Narcissa both had their wands drawn, casting healing and protection spells of their own. Lucius’ breathing became steady and no longer did he look like a corpse. Though he looked aged, he looked human.

“Thank you,” Narcissa murmured, stroking Lucius’ hair from his face. “You two get to bed,” she ordered softly.

“Y/n,” Snape called before I ascended the stairs. “The Dark Lord will be waiting for you to torture Lucius. He will not let you fail in this attempt.”

“I... I can’t do it. I never wanted to do it in the first place to Harry,” I confessed, my voice rasping.

“You must.” Snape rose. “For the sake of your life and for Draco’s. This is a different game now.”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand, rushing up the stairs and into the safety of our room. Like his mother had, Draco wrapped me up into his arms and only then did I realize I was shaking rather violently. I didn’t feel panicked, but my body said otherwise.

“Thank you,” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You were kind in ways that I never could have been,” It seemed that the only even that either of us could process at the moment had been the past few minutes.

“I couldn’t do it. Not when I looked in his eyes and saw you,” I whispered into his shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” He asked. “You... the Dark Lord isn’t going to...”

“I know,” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. But I won’t cast another Unforgivable.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to leave,” his words held a softness as he cupped my face. “To keep you safe.”

“I can’t leave you here, Draco,” I refuted. “I won’t go. I have to show them I won’t be broken. I won’t let hatred win,”

“Do you understand how dangerous this is?” His words became curt. “You could be killed for showing any disloyalty.”

“I know, I know,” I dismayed. “But I won’t run. I won’t be a coward... and I have nowhere to go...” There was nowhere that I could go that I knew wouldn’t be a target or a suspect for hiding me.

Draco huffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Okay,” He gave in. “We should get to bed,”

“Dray,” I groaned. “This is my path as much as it’s yours. Please don’t push me away.”

“I’m just trying to keep you alive,”

“My life isn’t my own anymore. I’ll willingly die for the good,” As soon as the words left my mouth my thoughts flashed to my father. “That’s why he did it.” I marveled mostly to myself. “That’s why my father wasn’t afraid of death,”

Draco stroked my cheek softly, the warmth in his grey eyes proving that Lucius would never be the man that Draco was.

Silence fell over us. Our minds, in sync, went mute. The phantoms of last summer guided us tonight. The warm silky water of a bath in his porcelain tub. The comforting scents of florals and memories. A trail of cloaks, robes, and clothes followed us to the bathroom and into the tub. My locket laid beside his family ring on the marble counter. His hands draped the water over my chilled skin, massaging away the tension in my muscles.

A year ago, there had been one mark on the two of us, now it seemed that there was no end to where our damage and scars were. And yet I didn’t feel shattered. I didn’t feel broken. Silent streams of tears trailed down our cheeks. They weren’t just of fear and anger, but perhaps also of relief and hope. What we dreaded had been done, now there were pieces to pick up. There was something to do. It wasn’t the brightest direction, but it was direction.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of Draco’s eyes as we laid together in the comfort of clean cotton sheets. My fingers carded through the silver gossamer of his hair. I slipped into slumber in the comfort of the storms of his grey eyes.

My dreams were vividly bizarre. Trails of what ifs. Of almosts. Of what could have been.

A bright green flash coming from Draco’s wand. Coming from my wand. Draco dead in my arms. The last glimpses of life as I laid in Draco’s arms. Harry staring us both down, defending Dumbledore. Pinnae flying away in the night to a small home in the Grecian countryside and never looking back. Pinnae falling, falling, falling, flightless. Down from the Astronomy tower and to the cold unforgiving ground below.

A soft unintelligible mumble pulled me away from the free fall down. I was steadied. I was wrapped in comfort. I was draped in soft blankets and warm arms.

“Just a dream,” Draco slurred sleepily, his eyes not opening. “You’re okay,”

I hummed a response and curled back onto his chest, settling back into sleep.

___________________________

“He’s not going to forget her,” Severus huffed, pacing the room. “Y/n will have to prove herself,”

“I know,” Narcissa sighed, sitting beside her husband.

Lucius had not yet woken since he had been healed, and though Narcissa knew that he was not on the verge of death any longer, his health was still failing.

“She’s just a child,” Narcissa insisted hopelessly. “She has no business in all of this,”

“She doesn’t have a choice anymore Narcissa!” Severus declared. “She chose this path. She chose to stand beside Draco, and this is where that road leads!”

Silent tears fell down her cheeks, lost in a memory.

“It’s not safe for you Cissa,” Lucius’ voice was quiet and urgent. “Go now, before it’s too late,”

“I’m not leaving you,” Her stubbornness might kill her one day, but she wasn’t giving up on him.

“The Dark Lord will kill you, and I can’t lose you my darling,” Lucius stroked her cheek softly, “You’re too important,”

“Then you know why I must stay,” She closed her eyes leaning into his touch.

“Please,” Lucius begged. “If not for your life, then for Draco’s. He’s just a babe.”

“This family will stay together,” Tears stung her eyes. “He needs his father as much as he needs his mother,”

“You’re not going to like who his father becomes,” The whisper was barely heard. “Please Cissa,”

She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks and into his hands.

“She knows that,” Narcissa answered softly. “More than anything she knows the consequences of her choice.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Severus demanded.

“Because she was me,” Her fingers trailed down Lucius’ face gently. “I never thought I’d have to live through another war—to walk through another one with him,” She paused and turned to Severus. “But Y/n knows what she’s doing.”

“Then why are you so adamant on protecting her?” He demanded.

“For the same reason you are,” It could have been an accusation, but it wasn’t. It was sad and soft. Hopeless in a way.

“We can’t protect her in a desperate chance to change the past, Narcissa,” It was just as hopeless.

“But we can try, can’t we?”

Lucius’ hand was ice cold in hers. His body was still riddled with Dark Magic and his time in Azkaban had not aided it one bit. There used to be an inkling of warmth in his skin, but now, it had vanished.

“You’re welcome to stay,” She offered. “The invitation is always open,”

A quiet beat passed.

“I will.” Severus answered. “He’ll need more looking after. And so will she,”

“She will make it Severus,” Narcissa pressed as he went to exit the room.

“That’s what he said about Lily,”

In the morning, Narcissa found you and Draco curled up together in bed, still sound asleep though the hour was becoming closer to afternoon than morning. She didn’t dare to rouse you two. If you could manage to sleep, she’d let you.

When you were finally awake and presentable, both eating in the kitchen, Narcissa could see the determination and uncertainty in your eyes as well as the familiar unease in Draco’s. You two were having the same disagreement that she and Lucius had. Draco no doubt wanted you to hide away, to be safe. And Narcissa knew that leaving was the last thing that you were going to do.

“When do you think he’ll be back?” Your voice was small as you cradled your mug in your hands.

“It’s hard to say,” Severus answered. “Time doesn’t work the same for the Dark Lord. It could be hours; it could be days.”

You nodded and leaned against Draco. It made her heart soar when she watched the two of you together. Draco’s comforting and protective nature that came out for you. And the trust you had in her son. It made Narcissa believe that she might have done something right after all these years to see her son this contented.

“Come,” Narcissa smiled softly, offering her hand to you. “You should learn how to heal Dark Magic,”

Wide-eyed, you followed Narcissa up the stairs, Draco shadowing you both, and into her bedroom where Lucius was still sleeping. Leading you beside the bed, Narcissa drew her wand.

“The easiest is medicari,” She instructed. “It will heal any physical wounds. The deeper the wound the more times you should repeat the spell,” You two nodded softly.

“To cleanse dark magic from the bloodstream or body—expurgatio” Narcissa turned to Lucius and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as she cast the spell. Under her wand tip drew forth an inky blackness from his chest.

“A lighting charm, my dear,” Narcissa instructed.

You drew your wand and cast the charm, drawing it near to the darkness at the tip of her own wand.

“Dark Magic, after drawn from the body and exposed to light—” you watched as the ink vanished. “—has nothing it can do but run and hide,”

Draco’s face held an air of thought as you remained quiet in thought for a moment. Narcissa could see that you were trying to form your words in such a manner that they made sense, and that they didn’t draw you into a breakdown. Draco’s hand slipped into yours. Your thumb gently traced the scar that ran along the back of his hand.

“Snape...” You began, “He—he used a spell. It sounded like song... when he was healing Draco,”

“The Song of The Lost Soul, yes.” Narcissa sighed softly. “It is not an easy feat to cast such a spell. Whereas many spells are one or a few words, The Song of The Lost Souls requires perfect cadence and pronunciation to be of any aid. If not, it is rendered useless.”

“But if it works?” You asked, curious, hope in your eyes and voice. “It’s one of the most powerful healing spells known to wizards.”

“I want to learn it,” Your determination didn’t surprise Narcissa in the slightest. A smile graced her face at the sight of your eagerness.

“In due time, my dear. For now, why don’t we begin with expurgatio,”

Slowly but surely, with each time you cast the Cleansing spell, your wand gripped more and more of the dark magic that plagued Lucius blood stream. Draco would touch a Lighting charm to the Dark Magic, and it would flee every time. After a while you paused and went quiet.

“I don’t want to have to hurt him,” the confession was soft from your lips. “But if I don’t...” Your eyes met Draco’s a hopeless expression on your face.

“I understand, my love,” Narcissa comforted. “I’ve walked in your shoes before. I know the sacrifices and choices you must face.” She took your hand and smiled softly. “You have a kind soul. A strong soul.” With a soft breath in she continued. “I taught you these spells, not only to aid you in your oncoming battles in this war, but also to let you know that whatever is done, may be undone.”

You processed the words, your eyes growing in realization. “You mean... you want me to...”

“Mother,” Draco’s brows furrowed, surprised himself.

“I don’t will it, no.” She confessed. “But I understand why it must be done. Stars above know the things I was forced to do to gain the respect I have among the Death Eaters...” She looked down at Lucius, “Though I do not think you are aiming for their respect nor should you, I do believe that it will be a comfort to know you won’t be killed.”

“I... I don’t even know if I can,” Your voice broke as your gaze dropped to Draco’s hand in yours. “All I see when I look at him, is you two... and I can’t... I can’t imagine hurting either of you.”

“That is not what the Cruciatus Curse entails, Miss Y/n,” Severus spoke, spooking you a bit as you jumped a bit and Draco’s arm wrapped around you protectively on reflex.

Severus stood from the armchair accompanying the window and neared the bed.

“The Cruciatus Curse was originally meant as a way for a wizard or witch to alleviate all of their anger and frustrations. It was a spell directed at the stars, never at a soul, never at another man. Of course, it became distorted over the year unto what it is now, but I digress,” The tone was familiar to Narcissa, and it seemed to you two as well—a formal teaching tone.

“So... I don’t... I don’t have to hate the person I use the Curse on?” You squeaked, your eyebrows drown in confusion and revelation.

“Not particularly, though it does help.” Severus took a tight breath in.

“But... in the bathroom... I used it on Harry,”

“And you were scared and angry,” Narcissa comfortingly placed a hand over yours. “All of your frustrations and fears that had been growing over those months were let out on Harry. Not that you loathed him specifically, but he was on the receiving end of your fury.”

____________________________

“So, I can cast the Curse with no intention of wanting to harm the person I’m casting it on?” Disbelief colored my tone. “How is that in any way safe? Or fair?”

“It’s not my dear,” Narcissa replied. “Which is the reason the ancients deemed it Unforgivable.”

“And I think you’ve seen that first-hand,” Snape remarked. “Though he is quite loathsome at times, I don’t truly believe that you hate Potter,”

“Debatable,” I muttered, causing Draco to chuckle beside me.

“You don’t,” Draco murmured in my ear. “Because I know you. You’re too kind,”

“He probably hates me,” My voice was weak and small. “You should have seen his face...” Worrying my lip, Draco pulled me in closer.

“Potter is very hot headed and impulsive,” Snape tried to comfort. “And he has no authority over you either,”

“But he’s the chosen one,” I protested, miserable. “Everyone cares about his opinion and what he thinks,”

“I think you’d find a few flaws in that statement,” A smile barely touched Snape’s lips. “You were quite the leader yourself in school. The students were just as willing to follow you as they were Potter,”

“Me?” I squeaked, my mind reeling. “But I’m just me. I’m not special. I’m not the chosen one. I’m just a bloody Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake!”

“And that’s what everyone adores about you,” Draco interjected softly. “Though I’d like to go on record saying you’re extraordinarily special,” A smile played at his lips. “But things aren’t handed to you like they are Potter. You never had the advantage, and when you did, you used it to rescue the underdog,”

“Draco is right, the Slytherins are quite fond of you,” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder why you weren’t one,”

“Anything’s better than Slytherin,” I muttered without thinking.

Draco laughed beside me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “There’s my Y/n,” He murmured softly. “I was getting a little worried there,”

The day was spent nursing Lucius back to health as best that Draco and I could. My trial of the Unforgivable forgotten for the moment. And I prayed that it would never come.

When Lucius’ cold grey eyes opened and landed on me, fear gripped my heart. But it was in vain. His hand reached out and covered mine as he nodded once, before closing his eyes once more in rest. Amity fell between us, knowing that there was forgiveness somewhere in my heart for him. Maybe it was a forgiveness that mirrored in Draco’s eyes as I sought him for reassurance.

“Happy birthday, love,” I whispered softly as the hour passed midnight as the two of us stared up at the stars.

“Don’t remind me,” He grumbled, causing me to laugh softly.

“And why not?” I mused, raising an eyebrow at him. “It’s not every day that you turn seventeen,”

“But you really wanna talk about it now?” He dismayed. “It’s not worth celebrating,”

“Look around Draco,” I pressed. “Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now,” Tears stung my eyes as I took his hand holding it tightly. “It’s more than enough to celebrate,”

He hung his head, closing his eyes, his shoulders rising with the deep breath that he took. Laying my head on his shoulder, I pressed to his side.

“It is enough,” He whispered softly, pulling me into his arms. “It’s more than enough,” His weak smile mirrored mine.

Draco’s hands came up and cupped my face softly, pulling me in for a calming kiss, sealing that us being alive was enough. That I was enough. That he was enough. That the quiet night with the fireflies and the stars watching over us was enough.

A letter came for me the next day from Prof—Lupin requesting me at the next Order meeting being held at Fleur and Bill’s cottage on the seaside not far from the Manor that night. The four of us debated whether or not it would be safe for me to go alone, knowing that I would be the only one allowed. And though Draco was hesitant, he urged me to go. A sadness lingered in Snape’s eyes at well, but he agreed. It was only Narcissa who had a qualm.

“They can track her Apparition,” She reasoned gently. “We need to keep the Order safe...” Her eyes met Snape’s, and something passed between them.

“I’ll fly,” I offered off hand. “No one will know that it’s me, and if they think I’m flying, then no one will be able to find me,”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Snape’s monotone voice seemed uninterested, but I could see that the questions burning behind his eyes.

“And that’s how it’ll have to be,” Draco took my hand, “Are you sure you can make the trip on your own?”

“You’re not coming with me, then we’ll be found,” I refuted the hope in his eyes. “I’ll have to go alone,”

And what Snape didn’t see was a white and bronze barn owl taking off toward the sunset, on her way to an Order meeting.

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

“Lupin?” I gasped out, steadying myself from my transformation.

“Sirius said that you were able to do that... didn’t give much away thought,” Lupin mentioned offhand, almost talking to himself. “What took you so long?”

“Long flight,” I muttered, leaning against the door jamb of the little house. “They can track Apparition. At least mine, I guess.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

I nodded and fidgeted with my sweater. “They all hate me, don’t they?”

“It’s quite divided actually,” A smile ghosted at his lips. “Those of us who know you, we don’t, but those who got the story from Harry on the other hand...”

I groaned in defeat and rubbed my face. Then I held my head high and nodded.

“Alright,” I concluded, “I’m not afraid to face the consequences of my actions.”

Lupin smiled warmly. “I can see why Sirius liked you.”

“You miss him,”

“Yes,” He paused then continued. “But there is more to life. I’m sure you understand that,”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Do you think he would have been proud of me? My dad?” I was almost too afraid to ask.

“More than you could ever know,” Lupin appeased. “In fact, that’s why a lot of us are so divided about what to do with you, because your father was in the same situation with your mother,”

“My mother wasn’t a Death Eater,” I muttered. “That complicates things doesn’t it?”

Lupin stared at me like I had two heads. “Y/n, your mother is a Death Eater. Or she was in the first war.”

I froze. My eyes going wide. There must have been true panic or horror on my face because Lupin neared me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Y/n, breathe,” Lupin instructed. “I thought you knew,” A soft shake of my head declined his statement.

“Well, that changes things a bit...” Lupin muttered. “We need to talk to Moody,”

“Will you—give me a minute...” I squeaked out, sinking into a kitchen chair. I hung my head in my hands, wishing nothing more to find comfort in Draco’s arms. He would know what to do. He would know what to say.

“What is she doing here?” A snarled voice asked.

Lupin’s arm shot out, holding me back from going off on Harry. Or maybe he was protecting me from Harry. I didn’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too shellshocked.

“She is a part of the Order,” Lupin defended sternly. “She has a rightful place here,”

“So, we’re going to ignore the fact that she aided the murder of Dumbledore!?” Harry shouted.

Silence fell.

“No,” I whispered softly. “I helped kill Dumbledore,” My voice was soft and broken and obviously not what Harry was expecting. “I helped kill Dumbledore. I’m in love with a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I’m the child of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff. My father’s dead and my mother’s gone.”

I spoke mainly to myself, but loud enough for everyone else to hear. “And I know that,” My eyes met Harry’s. “So, what are you going to do about it? Berate me? Scream how I don’t belong here? How massively fucked up my life is? Is that what you’re here to tell me?” My voice stayed soft and calm. “Because believe me, I already know,”

My words sapped all of the anger from Harry and caught the attention of the other members of the Order as they filed into the small kitchen. “It’s not about what I am, or where I come from, or who my parents are. It’s what I’m going to do from here on out and what I’ve been trying to do all along.” Again, I met stubborn green eyes. “I’m going to save Draco Malfoy. I’m going to fight for good. And I’m not going to let anyone, or anything stop me,”

There was something I realized about Harry in that moment where we differed immensely. He had no restraint and he never hesitated. He was hot headed and made rash decisions. He took everything that was offered to him and then some. The game he plays he takes and raises stakes without anyone else’s consent. He had an endless uphill just as I did. He had something to prove and almost nothing to lose.

I had everything to lose. Everything that I fought to keep. Everything that I fought to have. If he could thrive in the middle of the struggle, then I’d wait for my time to thrive.

I was willing to wait for it.

________________________________

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing!?” He roared, near tears. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and Sirius held James back. “What would you do for Lily, Potter?” He straightened, shaking off Remus.

“My wife isn’t on the wrong side of the war!” James spat.

“It’s easy to love those who love you isn’t it? It’s easy to love the good, isn’t it Potter!?” The words held ice shards. “You think you’d understand. You’re a father as much as I am in this hell, you think I don’t want what’s best for my family!? What will keep them alive!?”

“Boys!” McGonagall shouted reprimanding them. “You two are acting like children. We are on the same side of the war here and unless we work together, we’re not going to survive.” Her stern look silenced them both.

“Walt,” Alice reached out as he went to leave, shifting a small bundle of sleeping blankets in her arms, “Please, we do want you here,” Frank came up behind her, reaching out for him.

“She’s right, Walt.” Frank affirmed. “You deserve your place here with the rest of us,”

“Thank you,” He nodded. “But I need to get home to Elizabeth and hope Y/n hasn’t been giving her too much trouble,” The fire had left from his voice and weariness remained.

The Longbottom’s nodded as he set out into the night, apperating back home. The small farmhouse in the outskirts of town welcomed him home more than any consoling word from the Order ever could. He knew that the two people he loved more than anything in the world were inside that farmhouse. The two people who never questioned him or denied his loyalty.

“Walt?” Elizabeth’s voice chimed up from the nursery.

“Yes, it’s me,” Maybe he didn’t hide his weariness well enough because a soft concerned look was on her face as she met him in the hallway.

“Maybe her and I should...” Elizabeth trailed off. “You wouldn’t have to...”

“You think I’d walk out on you? On our darling girl?” Walter shook his head and pulled his bride into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “You two are worth more than a war,”

“I love you,” Her voice was broken as she clung to him, unshed tears in both of their eyes.

The soft cry of a babe broke their moment. Walter neared the crib to see a little pouting face start to snivel.

“Oh, now what is the matter?” He cooed softly gathering the child into his arms. “I’m right here sweetheart,”

Rocking her softly, her cries quieted, and large innocent eyes stared up at him. It was those eyes that made everything that James said, or Sirius muttered worth it. Those deep and trusting eyes that held wonder and love in their naivete.

Elizabeth placed a soft hand on his shoulder, and he turned, for the first time seeing the exhaustion on her face. He knew that no matter how harsh James was or how many times he came home feeling defeated, his love had a harder battle to fight. One that wasn’t built on love, and trust, and goodness. But wickedness, cruelty, and evil. He loathed having to see her bare that burden on her shoulders.

“I’ll put her down for the night,” He whispered softly. “You go on to bed. I’ll be there in a moment,”

Alone with his child in a quiet room on a peaceful night, he began to hum softly. He sang of sunshine and happiness in the midst of grey stormy days. When he looked into those eyes he knew for sure that no amount of Dark Magic would affect her soul that was laid bare in her gaze.

And her eyes went from wonder and awe to peace and slumber. Placed in her crib and warded by protection spells and charms and talisman, he headed to his Elizabeth.

She was combing through her long hair, sitting at the mirror in the bathroom. He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured softly.

“A little drained, but since having Y/n, and because Narcissa has her little Draco now, they seem very adamant to protect the two of us... you should see Severus stand up against him. He knows that Narcissa and I shouldn’t be doing Dark Magic... then Regulus backs him up and...” She went quiet, lost in the memory.

Curled up in bed, an amity fell over the house.

“Narcissa’s little Draco is just a darling,” Elizabeth spoke softly, curled up into his arms in bed. He could smell the florals and spice of her shampoo linger still in her long damp hair. “Such bright blue eyes. Just turned three months today,”

The days were gentle and calm, though fear came at the on every side. Some nights Walter would be left alone with his little girl, sometimes Elizabeth would. It depended on who had a meeting and where it was safe for their baby girl. And despite her kind nature, even barely a year old, there was worry underneath about what would become of her. It was new generation of Dark Magic, and branding. Two babes had been born from a parent with a Dark Mark, only little Y/n grew inside her mother who was riddled with Dark Magic. The other nurtured by a mother loyal to family.

The tiny babe wrapped in a soft pink knitted blanket had been cradled in Walter’s arms as the next Order meeting went on. Not that he paid much attention. His attention was divided between the warmth his darling offered, rocking her so that she stayed quiet, and then he gave half a mind to Dumbledore speaking about the Dark Lord. And in focusing on his babe, his mind wandered back to the innocence of his own childhood, of meeting his beloved Elizabeth.

She was draped in flowing green, looking as if she belonged in some high-end party, not a dance for grade school. It made his heart skip a beat when his eyes caught hers. Those eyes that held mystery and passion that he adored. They held secret study sessions in the library and elusive nights in the Astronomy Tower, desperate to keep their love a secret from their Houses and the other students.

“Go and talk to her,” Lily nudged his arm.

“You know why I can’t,” Walt sighed. “She’s a Slytherin,”

“Not all Slytherins are so bad...” Lily argued softly. “There’s hope for her too. For both of you,”

“You really think?” There was hope in his voice.

“Trust me,” Lily smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love you being you.” Her eyes drifted to the crowd, finding a face that meant nothing to him but everything to her. “Go before you miss your chance. You’ve waited for her long enough,”

He heeded her words and made his way across the grand hall that was dressed for the holidays. She was standing with the Black sisters, two of which moved from his way, and one blocked him.

“What’s an ickle Hufflepuff doing here?” Bellatrix cackled. “You’re not wanted little badger,”

“Bellatrix,” Walter greeted politely. “I’m not here to entertain you, but rather ask for Miss Elizabeth to dance,”

The sisters turned to their honorary sister of House. Her cheeks flushed pink, but there was hope and joy shown in her eyes as she took his outstretched hand.

“Are you sure about this?” She whispered under her breath as he led to her to the dance floor.

“I’ve waited too long to show the rest of the world that I love you,” He affirmed, holding her close as the next waltz began.

Though he knew all eyes were on him and his love, he paid them no mind. Instead he focused on the scent of perfume that was mirrored in Amortentia. He focused on the sound of her pretty laugh and the way she threw her head back in joy. And more than anything he focused on those eyes that held his entire world.

“How long have you known?” Walter asked softly, stroking Elizabeth’s cheek.

“About a month,” She smiled, her hand cradling her stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home,” There were tears in his eyes.

“I wrote to Dumbledore, but I know you my love, you’ll fight until this war is over,” Tear fell down her cheeks softly. “I’m not sorry,”

“Neither am I,” Walter let out a hopeless laugh as his tears fell, holding his bride close. “How are we supposed to raise a child—”

“Just stay alive, that would be enough,” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. “And if this child has a fraction of your smile... of your heart... that would be enough,”

“If they had a fragment of your mind... look out world,” Walter smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. “That would be enough,”

“Walter?” Frank drew him from his thoughts, from the eyes of his baby girl. Alice mirrored his stance, a smaller bundle of blankets cradled in her arms.

“Will you be our Secret Keeper?” Frank asked with a solemn tone. We need to hide, we need to keep Neville safe,”

Walter nodded; determination mirrored in both father’s eyes.

________________________

My Dearest Andromeda,

I hope that this letter finds you well, and I hope that you will give me the time to read it. I have much to tell you and much to ask that I know I am not allowed nor owed, but I beg of you anyway.

I know that your daughter is now married to Remus Lupin, and to which I congratulate the union. I know that Lupin will be good to her. But that is not why I have written.

My Draco and Y/n are now in very deep with the Death Eaters and I fear for them as I feared for our lives through the first war. And perhaps you understand because you managed to erase yourself from our family and flourished regardless. And for that I apologize and esteem you for.

You remember as well as I do how much our Elizabeth loved Walter, and now by some miracle, their child has been placed in my care after Elizabeth carried out her orders from the Dark Lord to keep her Y/n safe from him. She writes to me even still, asking about her child and is comforted by my words of her success and prosperity, knowing that she can never come back to her daughter while the Dark Lord is alive.

Which is why I beg of you to offer a place for dear Y/n to come and stay. I have offered my home, but the Dark Lord has demanded that the Manor be the base for his Death Eaters, and I cannot allow Y/n to be drawn under such an influence. She is good and I know it in my heart, and you can see it in her eyes, but I fear greatly as to what should occur if the Dark Lord manipulates her any further. She is powerful and has potential and power for great good and evil.

Please dear Andromeda, for the sake of Walter and Elizabeth and the second chance that they both gave the three of us. For their child who was marked from birth as was mine.

Your sister,

Cissy

______________________________

Narcissa,

Remus and Nymphadora have told me much about Y/n and the fire she possess in her heart just as her parents did. I have fallen in love with a girl I have not met yet and still I feel as if I am responsible for her as I am for my own Nymphadora.

With a heavy heart I mourn the years lost between us, but I can rejoice that the legacy of Walter and Elizabeth change and alter your heart even still. My heart goes out to Elizabeth as it goes to her daughter, as it goes to you and your son.

She is welcome in my home while school is not in season for her. She will be safe and protected here from the Dark Lord and his claws. I have no doubt that Bellatrix is also a reason for fear in your heart as much as the Dark Lord is. I pray that you come to see the light, and though I know there is barely a hope, I pray that for Bellatrix as well.

Send her at first light my dear Narcissa,

Your sister,

Andy

____________________________

“I have another aunt?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Narcissa sighed softly. “She was disowned by our parents because she was a blood- traitor, much as Sirius Black was.” A quiet moment. “You also have a cousin, Nymphadora Tonks,”

“Tonks is his cousin!?” I gaped. “Hufflepuff, Auror, Metamorphmagus, Tonks?”

“Yes,” Narcissa nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “It seems that you two have quite a bit in common now that I think about it,”

“And...she’ll be safe there?” Draco asked hesitantly, taking my hand.

“She’ll have a home while she isn’t at Hogwarts,” His mother affirmed. “Now that your father is feeling better and the Dark Lord has decided to make the Manor his headquarters. There may also be a chance that she can escape her fate with Lucius...”

“I can’t stay,” I murmured the realization.

“No, I’m afraid not, but not for the main reason you think my dear,” Narcissa consoled, piquing my interest. Draco and I exchanged a glance and turned back to her. “Whether you knew it or not, you and Draco and connected, since you were born,”

“I’m sorry, what?” We both demanded, looking at each other once more.

“It is quite amusing how fate played out, having you two come together like this but... yes. During the first war there were two babes born with parents holding the Dark Mark that survived. One was paternal, one maternal.” She gauged our reaction.

“But...that doesn’t mean anything... does it?” I asked timid.

“No one knew and no one still knows. It simply means that you two were both destined for something beyond the ordinary,”

“If... we were both born marked,” Draco spoke like he would while walking through a complex spell or potion. “And I have the Dark Mark... wouldn’t that mean that she’s marked for it as well? That fate...” He trailed off, his grey eyes holding fear and discomfort.

“I’m fated for the Dark Mark,” I understood what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And if I stay here...”

“Your fate would be sealed,” Narcissa sighed softly. “Which is why I need you to go to my sister, and stay away so that you might avoid this,”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand in mine

“I love you,” I whispered softly, just for him. “And I’m not afraid. I know who I chose,”

“As long as you come back to me,” He nodded.

Wrapped up tightly into his arms, I breathed in deeply, the last time I would be comforted by his arms until September. The beginning of the first chapter I had to write on my own until I found my way back to him.

Epilogue:

“Thank you, for your hospitality,” My voice held a soft tone, already missing Draco’s warmth.

“Of course, my dear,” Andromeda smiled. “Come,”

She showed me to a spare room that I assumed used to be Tonks’ because even cleaned up, I could see the chaos of her style linger still.

And though I thought I’d never make it through a night alone, let alone three months, somehow, they passed. Like the slow ticking of a clock that didn’t bother to mock me. Instead there was something reminiscent about the summer. Of writing letters to Draco and waiting for his to arrive. To be in a small home filled with happy memories and warmth of muggle books and films and music. It left me in tears more than I cared to admit, because it was something that I never thought would be mine again.

Something I didn’t know that I was waiting for, nor longing for.

Something that made three months seems like mere months, not an eternity waiting.

Chapter 12

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yaimlight · 3 years

Text

Rating : 18+

Summary : Bakugou, Todoroki and reader have a bit of fun whilst the boys are supposed to be on duty.

Series : Twos Company, Threes a Crowd

Cross post on AO3. Find me under LokiLover89

“Thank you!” The young girl called as she ran away back to her friends, waving enthusiastically as she went. Sighing Shoto offered her a small awkward wave in return, the action causing her group of friends to burst into giggles. “Fucking finally. I thought they would never leave” Katsuki grumbled next him and Shoto had to agree. He knew that a large chunk of hero work was interacting with the public and building their image but he really could do without the seemingly constant stream of people demanding photos and his attention, snapping image after image as if he didn’t have anything better to do with his time.

He and Katsuki had just spent the last twenty minutes with the group of girls that couldn’t be no more than a year or two younger than them, taking photo after photo with them in various poses and positions until they were satisfied. He was surprised Katsuki hadn’t snapped at them, demanding they get lost but after he tanked two points in the last hero ranking Shoto assumed he was probably trying to improve his image somewhat, though he may be regretting that decision now. Shoto had come close a couple of times though, growing impatient and wanting to just get on with his job. Not that there had been much of that to do tonight. All the villains and criminals seemingly deterred by the cold November night and the threat of snow that hung over the city.

Now the group of girls had moved on the street had fallen quite, not many people still out this close to midnight and that was how Shoto liked it. He was always suspicious of people wondering around in the middle of the night, especially now that most places were closing down. “Fuck its cold” Katsuki grumbled.

Shoto turned his head slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow as the other man rubbed at his arms. He looked good in his winter costume, the fabric pulled tight across him and clinging to all his muscles. He had ditched the normal black and orange tank top in favour of a black long sleeved top. It still had the orange x across the chest but it now had two orange bands wrapped around his biceps that seemed to make the muscles look bigger. His collar was high, the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face so Shoto couldn’t see the permanent scowl of his plush lips.

“What?” Katsuki growled, turning to glare at Shoto. He had be caught starring and if it had been anyone else Shoto would feel embarrassed but this had happened enough times now that neither of them cared much and even if he did deny it Shoto knew Katsuki liked the attention. Shrugging slightly Shoto turned back, looking at the street ahead of them as they continued on their patrol. “I thought your new suit had heaters built in”. He knew it did, Y/N wouldn’t stop gushing about how warm he was and was constantly cuddling up to him. Not that Shoto was jealous or anything.

“Don’t change the fact it’s fucking cold” the blonde grumbled and Shoto’s lips quirked into a soft smile. Shoto didn’t mind the cold, being able to regulate his temperature with the different aspects of his quirk but Katsuki hatted it. He said it interfered with his quirk, the cold making it impossible for him to get the sweat he needed to use it and Shoto knew that much was true but it didn’t hide the fact that he would bury himself under a mounting of blankets at home, his scowling eyes and blonde spike sticking out. It was adorable but Shoto would never say that to the other man, not wanting to end up with an explosive hand in his face.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, both of them watching their surroundings. The streets were mostly empty though and the few people they did see were too preoccupied in their own lives to bother the heroes and that was fine. The rumble of traffic was low and as they turned the corner onto a new street the faint hum of idle chatter died off and they were plunged into almost silence.

Katsuki’s phone chimed loudly for what felt like the hundredth time this evening and Katsuki cursed, yanking the thing from one of his many pockets. He yanked a glove off, hissing as it was exposed to the cold air. Shoto continued on, expecting the other man to follow along behind him like he had done every other time this phone had gone off tonight but when Shoto couldn’t hear his steady footsteps any more he stopped, turning to find the other man a few steps behind. He was stood still, staring down at his phone and Shoto knew he was frowning just from furrow between his brows. “What’s wrong?” He called out, taking a step back towards Katsuki, concerned as to what had him suddenly stopping.

Shoto’s words seemed to jerk him back to reality, Katsuki’s head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes. He looked startled and Shoto could see a light blush just underneath his mask but it was hard to tell if it was from the text or the cold. “It’s nothing” he rushed out quickly. Shoto frowned, tipping his head slightly and his brow drawn down in confusion. It clearly wasn’t nothing if the other man was acting so cagey all of a sudden. Shoto hadn’t said anything every other time Katsuki had revived a message but this one felt different somehow and Shoto wanted to know why.

Katsuki seemed to regain his composure, shrugging his shoulders and turning his attention back to his phone. “Just Kirishima checking to make sure him and the shitty extras are still allowed over Friday” he said offhandedly, sending off a quick text before shoving his phone back into its designated pocket. Shoto highly doubted that was true but Katsuki didn’t have any reason to lie to him, yet it definitely felt like that was what was going on and he didn’t like it. “A little late for him isn’t it?” Shoto said, his tone questioning with a hint of suspicion. He knew for a fact that the redhead was on early shifts this week because he had swapped with Ochaco so she could go wedding dress shopping with Momo.

Katsuki must know he had been caught out in his odd little lie because he wouldn’t meet Shoto’s eyes. Instead he was scowling, eyes darting around his surroundings as if he was looking for something in particular. “Yeah. Look I’m fucking freezing my dick off here. I’m gonna go grab a hot drink from that shitty stand back there. You want anything?” Katsuki said gruffly, finally looking at Shoto with his normal perpetual glare. His red eyes were piercing and Shoto felt pinned beneath them.

Still confused Shoto shook his head, offering the other man a ‘no’ as answer. The blonde grumbled something under his breath but Shoto couldn’t work out what it was apart from the odd curse word. “Stay here” Katsuki yelled at him over his shoulder as he stomped back the way they had come, still grumbling about something under his breath. Shoto watched him go until he disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone on the quite street. Well that had been odd and sudden.

Sighing Shoto rubbed at his eyes. Katsuki had been acting odd all evening, almost texting constantly for the past hour. That in its self was strange, normally he would shut his phone onto silent and ignore it until patrol was over then proceed to bitch and moan about the amount of unanswered messages he had from his friends. There was only one person Shoto could think off who Katsuki would answer straight away but she was supposed to be knee deep in a new project at Takahashi Enterprises with Hatsume and she never normally bothered either of them when they were working anyway. It was the only thing Shoto could think of though and it stung a little that she would be so focused all her attention on Katsuki instead of engaging them both on their shared chat.

A small thud and the sound of glass rattling had Shoto’s head snapping to the side, his eyes narrowing as he looked down the alleyway he had stopped in front of. The street lights only just illuminated the mouth of the alley, maybe a few feet but after that it was just shadows. He waited, staring into the darkness, expecting something to come charging out at him but when nothing did Shoto shrugged, assuming it must have been just a stray cat or something.

Turning back round Shoto huffed, glaring in the direction Katsuki had gone. What was taking him so long? The stand was only about a minute or two back the way they had come and Katsuki should have been back by now, his large hands wrapped around a stupidly oversized cup of coffee and with a content smile of his face. If the coffee was good enough Shoto may even be able to convince Katsuki to share it, the blonde grumbling as he handed it over like he wasn’t smiling behind his collar.

A loud crash had Shoto whipping back round, everything on alert as he stared into the darkened alleyway. That sounded a lot bigger than a cat and Shoto wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t go and investigate. He should probably wait for Katsuki to get back but Shoto was confident enough that he would be able to handle himself for a minute or two. Tentatively he stepped forward, left hand raised and fire dancing to life in his palm. He kept his footsteps light as he slowly ventured further into the darkened alley, his eyes darting around as he looked for any sign of threat.

His fire provided sufficient enough light for him to see but the flickering flames made the shadows seem to almost dance, giving the appearance of someone moving around him. The alley was small, wedged between two tall buildings that seemed to be using it as a dumping ground and Shoto was having to carefully make his way round broken bottles and rubbish bins. There were no windows looking down into the alley, no cameras either that he could see unless they were high up on the walls but even then it was too dark for them to capture anything. It was a good spot for an ambush and he probably shouldn’t have come down here by himself.

He was just about to turn back when movement just on the edge of his ring of light caught his attention. That was defiantly something, a person shaped something. “Who’s there?” Shoto called out into the darkness, stopping where he was to search the shadows for any sign of movement. Silence greeted him, the air around him feeling incredibly still. Shoto’s skin was prickled the distinct feeling of being watched making him uncomfortable. He was far enough away from the main street now that Katsuki would not be able to easily hear him if he called out.

Suddenly a light flickered on toward the end of the alley and Shoto spun to face it, the flame in his hand growing. It looked to be some sort of security light but there was no door or anything that would warrant one being there. The space was empty the person who had set it off seeming to have melted into the shadows. Shoto got the distinct impression he was being toyed with and he didn’t like it. “Show yourself” he called, his voice tinged with anger as he took a few steps forward towards the pool of light.

He toyed with the idea of setting off a large spurt of fire, sending it hurtling into the darkness to flush out whoever was hiding but he couldn’t chance it. He didn’t know what kind of crap had been stored down here and didn’t want to start a building fire, nor did he want to potentially kill whoever was screwing with him. Maim maybe but kill, not so much.

The hairs of the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of gentle laughter behind him and Shot was turning quickly, arm raised and ready to blast someone in the face only to find no one there. His heart was racing, his eyes darting around the shadows that seemed to be getting darker, pushing in on him until everything outside of his ring of fire light was pure darkness. This was bad, very bad. Shouto couldn’t tell what way he had come from, couldn’t even see the night sky above him. He felt trapped, cut off from the possibility of help. All he could do was hope that Katsuki would activate Shoto’s tracker when he wasn’t where he had left him and come to his aid.

The air behind him shifted and Shoto held his breath as a hand curled around his shoulder. In one quick move he turned, knocking the hand away from him and shoving the person back with a shoulder to the chest, the person grunting in pain. He wrapped his ice coved hand around their neck and pushed them back, pinning them against the wall, his left hand level with their face and the ball of fire pulsing in his hand.

“Love it when you throw me around like that, gets me all tingly”. Shoto jerked back at the familiar voice, his grip on his attacker’s neck lessening. Suddenly the world around them shimmered and the shadows vanished, everything else coming back into focus with a jarring burst of colour. Y/N smiled up at him, head tipped to the side slightly and eyes sparkling with mischief. They were stood under the security light, Shoto practically plastered against her as he used his body to keep her pinned against the wall.

He quickly stepped back, flames dying and ice melting as he realised what he was doing. She lifted a delicate hand, rubbing gently at her neck and never taking her eyes off of him. Shoto ran a shaky hand through his hair, his body humming with adrenaline from the fight he had been expecting. It wasn’t the first time he had her pinned against a wall, his quirks bursting to life but that had been during sparring and she had been giving as good as she got not during some weird shadow attack thing.

Frowning Shoto turned his full attention back to the women, narrowing his eyes at her. “Was all that you?” It had too of been, it was the only explanation for it all suddenly stopping when she had made herself known. Her smile widened as she shrugged dismissively. “You looked bored so I thought I would bring you a little excitement. Get your blood pumping”. She dragged her eyes down his body as she spoke, biting down on her lip as he eyes lingered on his crotch.

Frowning Shoto crossed his arms over his chest. She was lucky he hadn’t seriously hurt her and sure he knew that she would heal but that wasn’t the point. He always hatted having to watch her grow he skin back afterwards, it always reminding him of how he had gotten his own scare and he really didn’t want to associate the women he loved with the horror of his childhood.

“I thought you were spending the night at Takahashi’s with Hatsume”. Shoto sounded a little angry as he spoke and he wasn’t sure at who. Angry with Y/N for being so carless with her own safety or at himself for not realising it was here sooner. Either way he was angry and he didn’t appreciate her toying with him like that. Sighing she tipped her head back, her smile shifting into something softer, “She said I was distracting her so she kicked me out for a bit and I haven’t seen you for a few days so I thought I would come say hi”. Her voice was just as soft as her smile and Shoto felt some of his anger fade.

“So hi” she said giving him a little wave and with that sweet little smile still on her bitten red lips. Sighing Shoto unfolded his arms letting them fall to his sides. “Hello” he said in return, his voice low and a little bit stiff but she didn’t seem to care, her smile getting that little bit wider as she let out a little laugh. “Was that all you wanted?” Shoto asked, eyeing her expectantly. As nice as it was to finally see her Shoto wasn’t so stupid to think that was the only reason she had trekked halfway across the city.

She let out a huff of laughter before giving him her best puppy dog eyes, pouting a little to help finish the look off. “Cold. Warm me up?” Shoto raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head in exasperation. “If you dressed in weather appropriate clothing you wouldn’t get so cold” he reprimanded, his eyes darting over her as he finally took in her outfit.

She was dressed all in black, with a high waisted pleated skirt that came down to just above her knees, Katsuki’s black t-shirt with a skull printed on the front tucked into it and a black pair of sneakers on that came all the way up to her knees and laced up the front with bright white laces. She had a black leather biker jacket on with two pins on one of the lapels. One was of one of Katsuki’s gauntlets, a little explosion coming from it that looked like one of his fins and the other was of a flame and ice twisted together. She looked good, leant across the wall and smiling enticingly at him.

“I could but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to do this” she teased as she leant forward, hooking her thumbs in his belt and tugging him forward until they were pressed against one another again. Shoto went willingly, letting out a huff of laughter. “You need excuses now?” he asked, cupping her cheek with his left hand. Y/N hummed in answer, her eyes slipping closed as she nuzzled against his palm. He could feel her cold skin heat up under his hand as she absorbed his fire quirk, her skin flushing a light red as it spread out through her body.

Shoto placed his other hand against the wall next to her head and leant in slightly, unable to resist now he was so close to her. Her eyes fluttered open as his hand slid back into her hair. As he slowly leant forward Shoto kept his eyes open, watching as hers widened when she realised what he was going to do before they closed again, Y/N tipping her head up towards him.

His dry lips brushed gently across hers, his tongue darting out to tease at the crease of her lips, just pushing inside ever so slightly before he pulled back, smirking at her annoyed whine. He didn’t get far, her hands darting out to grab at the front of his costume and yank him back down to her. He let out a surprised umph as their lips collided, Shoto’s eyes slamming closed as her lips moved demandingly against his.

It got out of hand quickly, the hand that Shoto had been supporting himself against the wall with going down to her leg instead, dragging his hand along the back of her thigh to grip at her knee and hoist her leg up as he pushed tighter against her. Her hands slid up his chest so she could drape her arms over his shoulders, one of her hands sliding into his hair and curling around the back of his skull. The kiss its self was hard and demanding, their tongues battling for dominance as they tried to devour one another. Shoto hadn’t realised how much he wanted this, how much he had missed it until the moment their lips connected. It had been days and he felt like a starving man who had just been given a steak.

She nipped at his lip before soothing it with her tongue and Shoto moaned, grinding his half hard dick against her. They should stop, needed to stop before things went too far and he couldn’t. It was one thing to be caught making out down a dingy back alley but it would be something entirely different if they were caught having sex because that was where Shoto knew this would end if they didn’t stop in the next few seconds.

“What the actual fuck” came an angry call and they both stilled. With a sigh Shoto pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against Y/Ns and turned to look at the angry blonde who was glaring at them, his collar folded down so you could see all his face. How had neither of them heard him approaching? “Knock it off” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing and Y/N laughed, shoving at Shoto’s shoulders to get him to move, her out line seeming to shimmer slightly.

Scowling Shoto reluctantly stepped back, letting her leg go as he moved to the side. He slumped against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and defiantly not pouting. Y/N stepped in between them, smiling widely as she spoke. “Shoto was just helping me warm up” she explained and Katsuki grunted. His eyes moved past Y/N and dragged over Shoto’s body, his red eyes narrowing when he saw that bulge in his jumpsuit. Shoto had to fight the shiver that wanted to run down his spine at having the other man’s eyes on him so intently.

“Is that what he was doing?” Shoto turned his head to the side, feeling the slight flush forming on his cheeks. Katsuki was teasing him, Shoto could hear it in his voice but it didn’t change the fact that he still felt like a school kid getting caught behind the bike shed by a teacher. Katsuki didn’t like it when he wasn’t included, Shoto had learnt that the hard way.

Katsuki stepped forward and Shoto’s head snapped back to him, watching as he crowded in close to Y/N a wicked smirk on his lips. “Maybe I should help with that” his voice was full of amusement as he took the final step forward into Y/Ns space. His hands darted out, grabbing at her arm and yanking her forward as he dived for her lips in what looked like a bruising kiss.

She let out a moan, her body arching into the blondes as he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other going to her hair. Shoto could do nothing more than watch as Katsuki dominated the kiss, their lips moving fast and hard against one another’s. He could feel his dick hardening, pressing against his zipper but he couldn’t help it. He had always found the two of them incredibly enticing and loved watching them together, almost as much as he liked Katsuki watching him and Y/N together.

His eyes darted down to Katsuki’s gloved hand as it slowly slid down Y/Ns back, gently brushing over her arse and sliding down her thigh. His fingers played with the edge of her skirt, twisting the fabric between his fingers before he slowly started to slide his hand back up, pushing the fabric up with him. Shoto let out a small moan as he exposed her arse to the cool air, his hand curling around her plump cheek and squeezing. Y/Ns moan had Shoto’s head snapping up, wanting to see the blissed out look that he knew would be on her face but what he found was Katsuki smirking at him, red eyes practically glowing.

“I think someone is feeling a little left out” He mumbled into Y/Ns neck, never taking his eyes off Shoto as placed a kiss under her jaw, nipping gently at it and dragging another small moan from her. Shoto barley had time to react as Katsuki stepped forward, pushing Y/N back until her back was pressed tight against Shoto’s chest. Out of habit Shot’s hands went to her waist, holding her still as her arse pushed against his hard dick. His head tipped forward as he let out a low groan, burying his face in her neck.

He lifted his head as Katsuki pushed forward, sandwiching the smaller women between the two of them, his smirk wide and hungry as he looked down at them. “Wouldn’t want you sulking now, would we?” Shoto scowled at him, wrapping his arms around Y/Ns waist and pulling her tighter against him. He hadn’t been sulking, just feeling a little left out.

Groaning Y/N tipped her head back, resting it on Shoto’s shoulder. ”Less talking more doing. Some of us have a time limit” she demanded, rolling her hips and making both men groan. It was an odd thing to say and Shoto was about to ask what she meant when Katsuki growled, a gloved hand slinging over Shoto’s to grip her hips. “So fucking needy” he growled, rolling his hips and pushing her back against Shoto. He let out a gasp, his grip on her hips tightening and holding her in place as her arse pushed flushed against his dick.

He watched as her lips spread in a smirk, her eyes finding Katsuki’s. She lifted one arm, her fingers slipping in to Shoto’s hair and tugging gently whilst the other curled around his thigh. “So why don’t you hurry up and come satisfy me” she challenged, lifting her head to look at his properly and sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Katsuki snarled at the challenge, diving forward and kissing her hungrily.

Katsuki’s hands split, one staying on Y/Ns waist whilst the other slid back to curl around Shoto’s hip, gripping it tightly. Shoto gasped at the sudden contact, muffling the sound in her neck as his hips jerking forward to grind his hard dick against Y/Ns arse. She moaned in the kiss, her grip tightening in Shoto’s hair and he groaned loudly, placing hot and cold kisses along her neck and loving all the muffled sounds she was making that Katsuki was swallowing greedily.

This was wrong. They shouldn’t be doing this in such an open place. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night, someone could walk past and see them at any minute and they would all be done for because they were stood in the light and there would be no mistaking what pro heroes Ground Zero and IcyHot were doing to Noir. They would be able to see him grinding and groaning against her like a desperate slut and Katsuki dominating the both. The thought shouldn’t send pleasure zinging through his body, shouldn’t get his dick twitching but it did and Shoto found his mind fogging over with lust as he bit down on the sensitive skin behind Y/Ns ear.

She tore her head away from Katsuki, her head falling against Shoto’s shoulder as she gasped, eyes closed and cheeks nicely flushed. Shoto lifted his head just enough to smirk at Katsuki over her shoulder and slowly started to slide his hands up along her stomach, his long fingers tickling at her sides and causing her to squirm between them. He didn’t stop until he cupped his hands over her breasts, squeezing gently. He didn’t take his eyes off Katsuki as he kissed and nipped at her neck, deft fingers pinching at twisting at her hard nipples and causing Y/N to make these sweet little gasps and whimpers that they both loved so much.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at him, folding his arms over his chest and Shoto instantly missed the weight of his hand on him, his grip tight and keeping Shoto pinned in place. “So that’s how you wonna playing huh bastard?” Katsuki growled and Shoto felt the shiver of excitement and anticipation that rolled down his back. Smirking he bit down hard causing Y/N to cry out loudly. There was no way people hadn’t heard that, the sound cutting sharply through the quite night air but none of them seemed to care much, Shoto enjoying the annoyed growl that Katsuki made.

“Fine” Katsuki snapped and Shoto only had enough time to lift his head before Katsuki was grabbing Y/Ns hips and spinning her. Shoto let out a hiss of pain as her hand was jerked from his hair and she let out a squeak of protest as she found her chest pressed against Shoto’s. Her hands fumbled, bracing herself against the wall so she didn’t smack her face into Shoto’s, his own going to her waist to help steady her. “What the actual fuck” she hissed, head turned to the side and glaring daggers.

Katsuki snarled, stepping in close and pressing his chest against her back. He leant forward, placing one hand in the wall next to Shoto’s face and gripping her chin with the other, turning her head back towards him just a little bit more. “Blame the half ‘n’ half bastard. He seems to think he has some sort of control over what’s happening here” Katsuki growled before he lent in and sealed his lips over hers in a quick but hard kiss. Y/N smirked turning her head to look at Shoto, her eyes dark and gleaming with lust and amusement. “How unfortunate for him”.

Shoto’s eyes widened, his mouth flapping like a fish as he tried to think of something to say but nothing was coming to mid. They were ganging up on him and Shoto didn’t quite know how to handle that. Y/N pushed her hands against his stomach, her fingers spread wide and dragging across his muscles as she slowly slid her hands up his chest, mimicking his movement from just moments ago.

Katsuki let go of her chin, his hand going back to Shoto’s hip, gripping it hard and keeping him pushed back against the wall. Both of them were smirking as Y/N lent up, her lips going to his neck. Groaning Shoto tipped his head back, giving her more room to run her hot lips across his cool skin. He could feel her smiling against him as she nipped at his throat, her hands squeezing at his pecs.

He was breathing heavily as she pulled back, just enough to get her hands between them and undo the metal clasp that held the two sides of his collar together. She tipped her head back, Katsuki nuzzling against her neck, his red eyes watching Shoto and smirking dangerously. Shoto let out a little whimper, feeling like prey caught in the other man’s gaze, like he was about to be devoured and he would welcome it with open arms and a desperate please tumbling from his lips.

Y/N lent forward her warm lips going to the newly exposed skin, biting and sucking along his collar bone. There would be marks left behind, proof of what they would do to him and Shoto loved it. Loved to see all the dark and angry marks in the mirror when he got dressed. Loved it when people would question what animal he had let maul him when he changed into his hero costume, always refusing to tell them anything but most of all he loved to push his fingers against the tender mark on those lonely night, having nothing but his own hand and half formed fantasy’s mixed with memories to get himself off.

Katsuki’s smirk got wider, his perfect white teeth flashing in the hazy yellow light and Shoto was reminded of a shark about to rip its prey apart. He shivered in anticipation, hips rolling forward as he tried to get some kind of friction on his neglected dick but Katsuki’s tight grip kept him firmly in place. Y/N laughed as he let out a pathetic whine, his hands gripping at her hips as he tried to pull her against him instead. She shifted slightly as she moved forward, sliding her thigh between his legs and ground against him.

Shoto was gone, hips rolling forward as he chased his own pleasure, his hands gripping at Y/Ns waist to keep her against him. He didn’t even feel Katsuki let go of him, not until he felt two gloved fingers gently rubbing at his lips. Shoto’s eyes fluttered open, completely unaware that he had even closed them and looked at the other man with hooded eyes. “Open up” he growled and Shoto obeyed without a second thought. Katsuki slid his fingers in, pushing down on Shoto’s teeth until he bit down on the fabric. He kept his jaw tightly closed, biting down hard on the sweet tasting finger tips as Katsuki pulled his hand back, tugging his hand free of the glove. As soon as he hand was free Y/N reached up, tugging the glove from his mouth.

“Good boy” she murmured, letting the glove fall to the floor and Shoto preened. She lent up, sealing her lips over his in a slow and gentle kiss, a complete contrast to the hard and fast roll of her hips as she worked her thigh against him. Shoto was moaning and gasping into the kiss, his hands sliding round to grab at her arse. The back of his hands dragged against Katsuki’s thighs, his knuckles brushing dangerously close to the other man’s dick and it took all his considerable self-restraint to not cup his hand over him and squeeze the sizeable length. They weren’t there yet and Shoto really didn’t want to ruin what was going on here.

Y/Ns hands were back on his chest, fingers playing with the zipper of his jumpsuit, her delicate fingers teasingly dipping under the fabric to brush against his over sensitive skin. He could feel Katsuki’s hand pushing between the two of them, his knuckles digging into Shoto as he squeezed at her breast and she moaned into his mouth. Shoto took the opportunity, pushing his tongue between her parted lips and rubbing it across hers.

Shoto’s eyes snapped open, jerking back from Y/N with a startled and choked off moan as Katsuki slid his hand down lower, the back of his hand pushing against Shoto’s dick as he worked his hand between them and slid his hands between her legs. She shifted back slightly, her head falling to rest on Shoto’s shoulder and hands gripping at the fabric of his suit. He watched with wide eyes as Katsuki pushed himself tight against her back, trapping Shoto’s hand against her arse with hips, his hard dick pushing against the swell of her arse and the back of Shoto’s fingers.

He could feel the other man’s fingers as they slid under the edge of her skirt, skimming across her thigh. She gasped against Shoto’s neck, her hot breath making his cold sling tingle as Katsuki slipped his fingers under her underwear and along her folds. The way they were with Y/N straddling his leg Shoto could feel every move of the other man’s hand. Could feel him gently dragging his fingers against her, Y/N letting out these sinful little whines against his neck. Shoto felt helpless, gripping tighter at her arse as she rolled her hips forward to get more but Katsuki just moved his fingers away, laughing darkly.

He lent in closer, mouth by her ear and eyes level with Shoto’s. They stared at one another, close enough that if he wanted Shoto could just lean forward and seal their lips together. Katsuki’s eyes flickered down to Shoto’s lips as he licked at his own and Shoto let out his own needy little whine. Smirking Katsuki turned his head, keeping his eyes on Shoto as he nipped at Y/Ns ear. “You know what I want”. His voice was low and rumbling, a teasing edge to it and Shoto could feel him just gently brushing his fingers against her.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and lifted her head. Her face was flushed, her lips bitten red and her eyes blown wide with lust. She looked beautiful and far enough gone that Shoto knew she would probably agree to anything right now to get some sort of relief. She licked at her lips and both men tracked the movement, entranced as a small smile pulled at her kiss swollen lips. “Please” she said, her voice low and breathless and the tension snapped.

Katsuki growled, his lips going to her neck as he pushed his fingers into her. Shoto pushed his lips hard against hers, only just managing to muffle the sound of her cry as Katsuki set as fast a rhythm as he could with Shoto’s leg in his way. She was gasping and moaning into the kiss, her hips rolling forward onto Katsuki’s fingers and pushing her thigh against Shoto’s dick. They both pulled away from his kiss gasping, Y/Ns head tipping back to rest against Katsuki’s shoulder.

Katsuki lifted his head to nuzzle behind Y/Ns ear and Shoto got a look at what the other man had been doing. The bite mark on her neck was large and angry looking, the clear indent of Katsuki’s teeth visible through the red and purple splotch where he had been sucking at it. The mark was low enough that her jacket would hide it and if it was anyone else the mark would be there for days for all to see but this was Y/N and Katsuki would be lucky if it was still there come morning.

“I though half ‘n’ half was supposed to be the perv but look at you, fucking dripping around my fingers” Katsuki growled, pushing his hips forward as she sunk onto his fingers and stopping her from being able to move. Shoto couldn’t feel Katsuki’s fingers moving any more but from the breathless gasp Y/N made Shoto knew he had to rubbing over her clit with his thumb.

“Stop teasing” she whined, turning her head to glare at the blonde as best as she could. Katsuki laughed lowly, his fingers shifting slightly and causing her breath to hitch. “I would but someone isn’t holding up their end of the deal”. Shoto frowned, confused as to what Katsuki was talking about. Oh. This had been planned, the two of them deciding how this was going to go before Shoto had even took his first steps in the alleyway. He didn’t know whether he should be angry or impressed.

Y/N rolled her eyes and pouted, clearly unimpressed she was being denied what she wanted. “Fine” she huffed turning her attention back to Shoto. He sucked in a breath as her hands dragged down his chest, her pout turning into a smirk. She made quick work of his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a thud before going back up for his zipper. As soon as her fingers curled around his zipper Katsuki started to move his fingers again, fucking them into her as fast and hard as he could. “Fuck” she moaned, her head tipping back and her hands stilling. “Not if you don’t get on with it” Katsuki teases, winking at Shoto as he nipped at the bite mark, making her moan once more.

Grumbling she yanked down the zipper of Shoto’s jumpsuit, her hands warm as she slid them under his suit. She pushed the two sides of fabric apart, her nails dragging along his muscles and causing him to hiss at the sudden sting of pain. Everywhere she was touching felt like electricity was dancing over his skin, sending sparks of arousal through him and he wanted more.

Katsuki stepped back slightly, tugging Y/N back with his free hand wrapped around her waist and putting some space between her and Shoto. He wasn’t proud of the noise he made, his hands gripping tight enough at her arse that his nails were digging in as he tried to keep the pressure on his dick. “Don’t worry love, I have something much better for you” she purred, leaning up to place a delicate kiss on his lips. Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her back, losing himself in the gentle movement of her lips and the little moans she was making, so much so that he barely noticed her hands sliding down his abs with intent.

Shoto’s eyes flew open, a loud moan tumbling over his parted lips as she plunged her hand into his underwear, wrapping it around his straining dick and pulling him free of his confines. Slowly she dragged her hand over him, rubbing her thumb over his leaking tip and smearing precum across his red and swollen head.

She was smirking at him, her chest heaving as Katsuki continued to work his fingers in and out of her, digging his knuckles into Shoto’s leg every time her pulled them out. Shoto stared down at her, wishing she was in her own hero uniform so he could actually see the swell of her breasts, watch as they rose and fell with every breath she took. He would be able to duck his head down and get his lips on the soft and unblemished skin, kissing and sucking his way across her chest and adding his own bite marks.

Y/Ns hand tightened around him as she focused her movements on the head, sliding it through her fingers and dragging them down his shaft. His moan was loud Y/Ns own mixing into it. Katsuki hooked his chin over her shoulder, dark eyes watching Shoto as his breathing picked up, mouth hanging open. “If you don’t shut your mouth I’ll take it as an invitation” Katsuki growled, eyes narrowing. Shoto tried, he really did. Licking at his dry lips before biting down on them, muffling his little gasps and moans but Y/N was good at turning him into a pathetic, desperate mess and it wasn’t long before his mouth was falling open again on a gasp as she twisted her hand on the down stroke, dragging her thump along the sensitive vein.

“I think he wants something” Y/N said breathlessly but still managing to sound teasing and Shoto wanted to tell her to shove off but it turned into a groan as she dug the thumb into his leaking slit. “It would be rude to refuse such a blatant invite” Katsuki mumbled, turning to kiss Y/N and all Shoto could do was watch as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her moan as he twisted his fingers.

They broke apart, both of them breathing heavily and Y/N nipped hard at his lip. It was the first time since this had started that Shoto saw the other mans controlled exterior crack just a little, his eyes dark and hungry as he growled at her, the sound low and threatening. She whined as he slipped his fingers from her, Katsuki glaring down at her with a satisfied smirk. He lifted his glistening fingers to Shoto’s lips, both of them turning to watch him as he opened his mouth wider.

He eagerly sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning as his mouth was flooded with their mixed taste. “So fucking tight” Katsuki growled, spreading his fingers and pushing down on Shoto’s tongue. “Bet you would be a good little cock sucker”. Shoto hummed eagerly, nodding his head as best as he could and curled his tongue around his fingers, sucking hard. He had never sucked dick before, had never wanted to but Shoto knew that should Katsuki ever ask him to he would be on his knees in seconds.

Y/N leant forward, kissing up his neck and jaw, her hand slowing to just a gentle glide across his aching member. She placed a gentle kiss on the corner of Shoto’s stretched lips, her tongue flicking out to lick along where Katsuki’s fingers pressed in. Katsuki chuckled as he slipped his fingers free from Shoto’s lips only to push them into Y/Ns waiting mouth. “Don’t worry kitten, you always suck me best” Katsuki practically purred, red eyes watching intently and licking at his lips.

She locked eyes with Shoto, her lips spreading into a smirk around the other man’s fingers as she started to bob her head. She matched the movements of her hand to what she was doing with her mouth, her thump swiping over the head on every up stroke just like she would do with her tongue if her was buried in the warm, tight heat of her mouth.

Shoto tipped his head back, resting it against the wall as he panted. “Fuck” he hissed, his hips jerking forward into her hold. His hands slid down her arse, pushing up the fabric of her skirt so he could finally get his hands on her bare flesh, his nails digging into her cheeks. She moaned around the fingers, sinking her mouth down as far as it could go. Shoto knew the moment she swallowed, Katsuki hissing a quite ‘shit’ before quickly pulling his fingers free.

She licked at her lips, winking at Shoto as she slowed down her hand again. He groaned, the pressure that had been building slowly easing as her hand loosened and it became just a gently brush of her fingers against his shaft. She pushed up, pressing her chest against his as she slid her other hand into his hair, pushing his head down towards hers. “Can’t have you ruining our fun too soon” she whispered, lips brushing against his as she spoke.

Glaring Shoto thrust his hips forward, trying to get more friction but Y/N tightened her grip in his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck to her sharp teeth. She bit down hard, right by his adam’s apple and he cried out, eyes slamming closed. He felt her laugh against the saw spot, her lips brushing against it before she sucked it into her mouth. It was too high up and there would be no way he would be able to hide it when they got back to the office. People were going to know what he had been doing, would probably think Katsuki had put it there and that was one rumour they could do without at the moment.

Y/Ns hand started to move again, still slowly but her grip a little firmer. Shoto kept his eyes closed, losing himself to the feel of her hand working his dick and her warm lips leaving a trail of burning kisses along his cool skin, the grip on his hair keeping his head pulled back. Vaguely Shoto was aware of the sound of a belt being unclipped, a zipper being yanked down and Katsuki letting out a loan groan. There was the rustle of foil followed by a groaned out curse and Y/Ns soft laughter against his neck.

Large hands grabbed his, sliding them round to Y/Ns hips. Shoto opened his eyes, frowning at the other man but Katsuki just winked. “Hold her steady for me” he growled and Shoto swallowed, nodding his head slightly in understanding. Y/N whined against his neck as Katsuki grabbed her hips, pulling her bottom half back a little and kicked at the inside of her legs to get her to spread them a little more. One of Katsuki’s hands disappeared between them whilst he pressed the other one flat against the wall next to Shoto’s head, his muscles flexing as he steadied himself.

Katsuki was too close to Y/N for Shoto to see what he was doing but he knew the minute the other man pushed into her. She tensed against him, her open mouth pressing against his collar bone as she moaned, her hand stilling on his dick. Katsuki groaned as he pushed into her in one quick thrust, his head falling forward to rest against her shoulder. “Always so god damn tight” he groaned, his hand curling around Shoto’s on her hip. They stayed like that for a moment, everyone trying to calm their racing hearts.

Groaning Y/N shifted, her hand slipping from Shoto’s hair to brace herself against the wall. Shoto felt trapped between the two of them, their arms bracketing him and keeping him in place. “Move already” Y/N grumbled, pushing her hips back and causing Katsuki to let out a grunt, lifting his head to look at Shoto. “Hold on” he growled and Shoto tightened his hold on Y/Ns hips.

He watched as Katsuki slowly pulled back, his brows knitted in concentration, looking down to where they were joined and Shoto wished he could really see it to, wished he could watch the other man fuck into her properly. Y/N cried out when Katsuki slammed back in, her hips pushing hard against Shoto’s hands as Katsuki pushed her forward. He set a bruising pace, hips snapping into her hard and face, the two of them moaning. Y/N tightened her grip around Shoto’s dick as she moved her hand over him, her hand stroking down him every time Katsuki fucked into her.

It didn’t take long for Shoto to feel the muscles in his stomach twitching, heat pooling low in his belly as he raced towards his end but Y/N stopped, her hand gripping tight at the base of his dick to stop him from releasing. She did this twice more until Shoto was a pathetic desperate mess, his body vibrating with the need to cum. “Please, I need to cum” he begged Y/N, his voice rough and desperate. Katsuki was the one to answer him though, growling his words through gritted teeth as he continued to fuck into Y/N. “You can cum when she does you little slut”.

Y/N let out a breathless laughter and Shoto whined. He didn’t know if he could take much more of this teasing, being driven to the edge only to be denied relief. His eyes were starting to water and his dick was throbbing with the need to cum and it had been so long since he had felt her hands on him that he was surprised he had made it this far. Soft lips brushed gently across his and Shoto sighed, the tension easing in his shoulder as he kissed her back just as softly. “I need more” she whispered, nipping gently at his bottom lip. “Will you give it to me Sho?”

Groaning he nodded dumbly, staring down at her with longing. “She means use you’re fucking fingers dip shit” Katsuki snapped when Shoto didn’t move, grabbing tightly at his hand and moving it round to press against her pussy. “The quicker we get her to cum the sooner you can” Katsuki said, winking at Shoto before letting go of his hands. He gripped tightly at Y/Ns hair, yanking her head back and she gasped at the sudden action, her hand squeezing tightly at Shoto’s dick as she dragged her hand up.

Katsuki leaned in until his mouth was next to her ear, his hips stilling. “Beg for it” he growled, Y/N whimpering as he gripped her hair tighter. “Please give it to me” she gasped as she tried to roll her hips but they had a tight grip on her and she couldn’t get the movement she wanted. She let out an annoyed groan, her brow creasing as she frowned. “Please. It’s been so long and I want it so badly. Please let me have it, make me cum so hard they hear me screaming your names a block away”. Her voice was desperate as she begged, the sweet words tumbling over her lips and Shoto’s heart stuttered as his dick twitched.

They moved as one, Katsuki growling as he started to snap his hips into her fast and hard. At the same time Shoto ducked forward, sealing his lips over her neck as he slid his fingers down, rubbing hard at her clit. She cried out at their assault, her eyes squeezed shut and nails scratching along the stone. The sound of her cry was ringing in Shoto’s ears but he didn’t care, it was the best sound he had heard for days and he would still be hearing it ringing in his ears come morning. Her hand starting moving over his aching length again, her movements fast and uncoordinated and he moaned, biting down over the mark that Katsuki had already left behind.

He was speeding towards his climax quickly, all of them racing towards the finish but Y/N had to cum first. Shoto wouldn’t put it past Katsuki to punish him somehow if they didn’t get her off first, probably tie him to a chair and make him watch him reduce Y/N to mumbling mess. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done it and it probably wouldn’t be the last, the blonde liking the control it gave him too much. Shoto never complained though.

Taking a deep breath Shoto tried to concentrate, covering his fingers with ice as he pressed down against her sensitive clit. “Shoto!” She called out her rhythm stuttering and Shoto would swear that the alleyway seemed to shimmer for a second, the image destroying before snapping back into place. “Would you fucking focus” Katsuki growled, tugging at Y/Ns hair until she hissed. “I’m trying but it’s hard when you’re....ahhh” Y/Ns irritated words cut off into a cry as Katsuki slammed into her particularly hard, his smirk wide and dangerous.

Confused Shoto leant back against the wall, trying to figure out what they were talking about but all other thoughts left his mind as Y/N sealed her hand around his leaking head and squeezed. He moaned her name as she set up a fast pace, his head squeezing between her fingers only to be sucked back in. “You were saying” Katsuki teased, dragging his nose along her exposed neck before biting down in the same spot again. “Just hurry the fuck up. I can’t keep it up much longer”.

Shoto barley heard the other two bickering, his ears ringing as he tried to keep himself from exploding. Her hand was so warm and tight around him, squeezing and rubbing in all the right places to have his heart slamming against his chest and his body tingling. He could barely stay focused enough to remember to move his fingers, rubbing hard and fast against her. They were all breathing heavily, their moans mixing together. Shoto could feel the heat building, his stomach muscles tightening as he got closer to the edge. He had been on the edge for so long now that if Y/N didn’t stop he wasn’t going to be able to hold it back.

“Scream for use” Katsuki growled, yanking her hips back against him as she thrust forward and sank his teeth into her neck. Y/N didn’t disappoint, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open as she called out Katsuki’s name, her body going taught as she came. She looked beautiful, caught in rapture and it was enough to send Shoto tumbling after her. Shoto arched off the wall, his shoulders digging into the hard stone, moaning loudly and gripping tightly at her hip, his fingers stilling against her. His vision went white, his fingers tingling as release finally found him.

Pulling his hand away from her Shoto curled it around her hip, holding her tightly as Katsuki slammed into her, losing his rhythm as he chased his own release. Y/N moaned, panting as Katsuki thrust a couple more time’s before stilling, groaning loudly as he came. Shoto felt the heat of Katsuki’s palm sparking as well as heard the crackling and pop, the blondes’ fingers curling against the wall.

They stood there for a few moments, leaning against one another and trying to even out their breathing and calm their racing hearts. Katsuki slipped his hand from Y/Ns hair, his fingers gently rubbing at her scalp and she hummed in pleasure. Katsuki was the first to pull away, the muscles in his arm rippling as he pushed himself away from the wall and slipped out of Y/N. As soon as he was far enough back Katsuki yanked the condom off and chucked it away, wasting no time tucking himself back into his pants and righting his uniform.

With a sigh Y/N stepped back, Shoto’s hands slipping off of her as she moved and he instantly missed the closeness. He set to sorting himself out, tucking his now soft dick back into his pants and tugging the zip up. Shoto groaned as Y/N lifted her cum covers hand to her lips, sucking and licking every trace of him off of her, his spent dick giving a valiant twitch at the sight. “You are disgusting” Katsuki growled, watching her with a frown as he zipped his trousers up and fastened his belt. She moaned loud and exaggerated around her fingers and Shoto let out a snort of laughter as he finished doing up his jump suit.

She popped her fingers from her mouth, turning so she could look at Katsuki. “Would you rather I wiped it on your face” she said in all seriousness, smirking widely and raising an eyebrow at him. Trying not to laugh as the blondes eyes widened in surprise for a second before he went back to scowling at the women, Shoto bent down, retrieving his belt and Katsuki’s glove from the floor. “Try it and I will kill you” Katsuki growled, snatching his glove from Shoto’s outstretched hand.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned back to Shoto, taking his belt from him and leaning forward to loop it around his waist. “Enjoy yourself?” She asked smugly, looking up at him through her lashes as she clipped the belt in place. “I did, though I get the feeling I was missing something” Shoto looked down at her expectantly, a small smile on his lips. Smirking she stepped back, shrugging her shoulders and waving her hand dismissively. “I had to try out some new quirk related tech and we were horny, didn’t think you would mind coming along for the ride”. As she spoke the dark alleyway around them shimmered and then seemed to snap out of existence.

They were nowhere near as far away from the street as Shoto had believed and the security light they were under wasn’t the only one dotted along the walls. Oh god, they had been so loud, so brazen about what they had been doing and anyone could have heard them, seen them. What if someone had? They were going to be over all the papers and most definitely getting fired for having sex not only in public but on duty.

His panic must have shown on his face because Y/N was speaking again, smiling reassuringly at him. “We’ve been working with the hero Mirage to help keep her allusions up whilst distracted and you two are the best distraction out there to test it with. Don’t worry no one saw or heard anything other than an empty alley and a few stray cats”. Shoto felt the tension ease, relieved that no one had been able to see anything. That did explain some of the things the other two had been saying.

Growling Katsuki wrapped his arms around Y/Ns waist, the women laughing as he lifting her up of the floor. “You’re a pretty good distraction yourself” he growled, placing her back on the floor and pressed a kiss against her cheek. Frowning Shoto crossed his arms. “So you misused someone else’s quirk for your own entertainment” he chided. She was getting paid a lot of money to do this job and these heroes were trusting her to help develop items to further their carrier, not to go around finding all the different ways she can apply their quirks to their sex lives.

Katsuki looked up from where he had been nuzzling at Y/Ns neck, scoffing and rolling his eyes. Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t remember you complaining when I had that vibration quirk for the night”. Katsuki laughed as Shoto felt himself blushing. That had been different. It belonged to a pervert who told her to make use of it and try it whilst having sex because it felt amazing. They had the guy’s permission and he had been right. It had felt really good with her two fingers shoved inside of him as she swallowed him down. He had cum in a matter of minutes and screaming so loud that Katsuki had heard him when he got out of the lift on their floor of the apartment building they lived in.

Knowing she had won the argument Y/N turned in Katsuki’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I better go, let you two hard working heroes get back to work” she said reluctantly, pushing up on her toes to places a quick kiss on Katsuki’s lips. He growled into it, pulling her closer against him and it soon became heated, Katsuki’s mouth hungrily devouring her. When they pulled away Katsuki looked smug, stepping out of her arms and spinning her round to face Shoto.

She licked at her lips, placing her hands on Shoto’s shoulders to steady herself as she pushed up. He met her half way, their kiss soft and gentle as he cupped her cheek. When he pulled away her eyes fluttered open slowly with a gentle sigh and Shoto wanted to spend the rest of the night kissing her, slow and softly, savouring the feel of her lips against his. “Text me when you get in?” she whispered and Shoto nodded not trusting his voice not to break if he opened his mouth.

She stepped back from his hold, trying to put some distance between the three of them. “Right. Okay. See you later” she said quickly turning and running from the alley. As she went her outline shimmered then suddenly they were looking at a smiling Kirishima, waving at them enthusiastically. Katsuki growled, taking a step forward. “I told you to knock that shit off” he yelled angrily after her but Y/N just laughed louder, disappearing around the corner still looking like the redhead.

“Something the matter” Shoto asked casually, eyeing the blonde out the corner of his eyes. Katsuki groaned in annoyance, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets and glaring at the floor as if it had offended him. “It’s what she was fucking doing when I found you” he grumbled as he started to make his way back to the street. Shoto’s eyes widened in shock, mind scrambling as he tried to process what the other man had said and stumbling after him. “She was shitty hair and had you looking like fucking Denki”. Shoto blinked once before he burst into laughter.

Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth together. “It’s not fucking funny asshole” he yelled and Shoto had to bite down on his lip to stifle his laughter. No wonder he had looked so angry when he turned up. “I’m never unseeing that shit” he grumbled, looking down at the floor as they stepped out into the street. They both looked back down the way they had come earlier before turning and heading down the other way, starting their loop to take them back to the agency in silence.

It was a comfortable silence even if Katsuki was still sulking, though Shoto could sympathise. He would probably be acting the same way if he had walked round a corner to find Tenya and Izuku making out. He shivered at just the thought but that didn’t change the fact that Katsuki was seeing his two friends in just a few days and Shoto couldn’t wait to see the horror on Katsuki’s face when they undoubtedly did something to remind him of what he had seen tonight. He would have to make sure to have his phone on hand to capture the moment in glorious high definition.

#bakugou x reader #ao3 fanfic #bakugou x todoroki #bnha fanfiction #mha #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader x todoroki

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lowkeyorloki · 4 years

Text

Library Card

An AU in which you’re a librarian, and Loki’s fingertips brushing against yours as you take his card makes you blush

(shoutout to @the-emo-asgardian and @is-it-madness for helping me decide to narrate this fic from loki’s point of view! you guys rock!!)

also, as a tom hiddleston fan, “ehehehe” was bound to make an appearance in one of my fics sooner or later. let’s just hope i used it well

Loki watched as the crowd of people you just helped filed out the door, shoving receipts printed with due dates into the spine of their books. He thinks about them, men and women going home to their families with a novel they won’t have the time to even begin, let alone finish. Eight years now, Loki had spent living on Midgard and he still couldn’t understand it. Why would they risk the embarrassment of coming back to the library every week, knowing full well they didn’t do anything with what the building provided them?

Well... probably because the only employee would never say something about it.

You were at the circulation desk now, sighing deeply as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You always did that, Loki had noticed, after you helped large groups. Like any extended period of social interaction made you tired. Loki couldn’t judge you for that. While he was perfectly capable of being charming and outgoing when he needed to be, he didn’t particularly enjoy it.

So he gives you a few minutes, and once you’ve had a sip of water and typed a few words into your computer, he steps towards the desk.

“Hi.” you say, meeting his eyes. Loki nods.

“Hello.” he greets you back.

That was always the extent of your conversations. You would look at Loki with your wide eyes- they really were beautiful, unlike any others he had seen on Midgard. You looked at Loki with such a kindness about you, like you wouldn’t second guess giving him a hug if he started crying right then and there.

Thor would take offense to this. Loki can almost hear his brother’s voice in his head, telling him that it’s better for someone to only look at one person that way.

But the fact you treated all your patrons with a good disposition didn’t make Loki feel like he wasn’t special, or whatever else Thor meant when he was saying things like that. Loki liked knowing there were people like you, who were nice to everyone because there was no reason not to be. It was a type of person Loki had never been around growing up. It was... comforting, to see now.

And besides, you had a sense of humor as well. Loki never confirmed this himself, but you often sent people away from the counter laughing. And there was a face you’d make, one Loki could never look away from. You’d scrunch your nose, then let out a genuine laugh. In a quiet library, you took up all the space.

Your words tear Loki from his thoughts.

“You know...” you hold up one of his books. Othello. “You can buy this book. Or at least renew it, instead of returning it and then checking it out again every week.” your eyes twinkle. Loki finds himself momentarily at a loss for words.

“I could.” he agrees. You lean forward, seemingly eager to hear Loki’s answer. Loki’s eyes scan the small building. You’re alone. He smirks. “But I would hate to bar anyone else from a classic.” he says. You suck in a breath.

“I hate to say it, but no one in this town is going to read Shakespeare. I would know, because I manage the holds list.” you scan the book, the machine next to you making a beeping noise. Loki hums.

“Well.” Loki begins. Your eyebrows raise at the god, an action he often finds himself doing. It’s interesting to see someone else do it. “In that case, I could easily buy the play, yes. But I wouldn’t ever be able to bring myself to. I enjoy the older books. Loose pages, broken spines. They have a certain charm to them.”

You blink, staring at Loki in wonder.

“Yes.” you say, with emphasis. “Oh my gosh, exactly. And, okay please don’t think I’m weird, but the-”

“Smell?” Loki finishes for you. Your smile is contagious, Loki finds the corners of his mouth drifting up, too.

“Yeah! It doesn’t come with new books.” you exclaim. You shrink back. “Sorry.” you say, self consciously. “I don’t know many people who like books the way I do.” Loki watches you pack your excitement away, and for some reason, it weighs on him deep in his chest.

“Don’t apologize.” he tells you. “And now you do. One person who shares your interest is better than none.”

You look at Loki with a sense of amazement, almost like you can’t believe he’s standing in front of you. “Yeah.” you say, your voice sounding lighter than it was before. “It is.”

You shake your head, like you’re breaking yourself out of a daze. “Um, I’ll need your card. To check you out. To check your books out! Not you, I wouldn’t do that.” you knit your eyebrows together in frustration. “Not that I wouldn’t because you’re unattractive or anything- you’re handsome, it’s just that-”

“Here.” Loki’s biting back a laugh now, handing you his library card to put you out of your misery. You seem thankful when he does.

Loki’s fingertips brush your own when you take the piece of plastic from him, and it sends jolts of electricity through his hand. It takes him by surprise, his body reacting so strongly to such a simple touch.

You feel it too: Your breath hitches, barely. It’s nothing another human would be able to detect, but in Loki’s godlike stature, you may as well have gasped out loud.

You retract your hand at what must be a record speed, scanning the card and laying it on the counter so there’s no chance of contact again. You push the books towards Loki.

“Thanks for coming in.” you say. “And for that chat. It was fun.”

“Yes.” Loki says tentatively. He takes the books. “It was.”

With that, Loki turns towards the exit, fully prepared to leave and continue his day as planned.

And yet...

Loki looked back at you as he was halfway through the door. Your hands were busy, scanning papers and moving pencils in a way that made Loki think you were trying to look occupied as opposed to actually being so.

“I... Pardon me.” Loki steps back towards the counter. You look up at him with wide eyes, a red tint still flushing your cheeks. Loki does his best not to focus on it.

“Returning Othello already?” you ask. “That was fast, even for you.” Loki scoffs.

“No, not quite yet. Listen, I assure you, I am not usually not this forward, but...” Loki’s grip on his stack of books tightens. “Would you like to grab a drink sometime?”

“Hmmm.” you’re holding a pen in your hand, click-click-clicking it as you talk. “You do remember I’m a librarian, right?” your words sound like a rejection, but you’re beaming as you bite your lip.

Loki finds himself smiling back- you’re playing a game. Teasing.

“Ehehehe.” he laughs. “You’re right, how silly of me. Coffee, then?”

Your smile lights up the room as you reach forward, taking Loki’s hand and flattening it out. He feels the dull point of your ballpoint pen as you write your number, as well as your warm breath on his arm. Loki suppresses a shudder- a good kind, from anticipation more than anything else.

“Call me, mister...” your eyes drift to the receipt you had printed just moments before. “Laufeyson.”

“I will.” Loki tells you. He holds up his hand with your writing. “Don’t sweat it.” One of the only Midgardian phrases Loki has picked up on. He hopes it worked, and thinks it does when you roll your eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re jokester. A Trickster, even.” Loki grins. You have no idea. he thinks to himself.

He pushes the glass door open and walks away, his spirits higher than they’d been in, well...

The last eight years.

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Saving Face

Inspired by This Video by hotvanilla on youtube. Such good animations, check them out, they have quite a few Sanders Sides animations and they’re all so awesome!

Deceit has a mild breakdown. The other sides help.

AO3

...

He’s in the kitchen, when it starts. He’s washing up the dishes from the night before, because it was a movie night, and everyone passed out before cleaning anything up. He doesn’t mind cleaning. Finds it a bit soothing, actually, gives his hands something to do while his mind wanders.

His face burns, suddenly, a spasm of pain, and he drops the bowl he was holding into the sink, hand flying to his mouth at his reflection. The scales are gone, his face a mirror of Remus’s, unruly hair, electric green eyes, perfectly applied messy makeup.

It stays just for a moment, before he grips the counter, another spasm wracking his frame, this time shifting all of him, he can tell from the outfit it’s Virgil this time, and he shakes his head.

They’re healing, they all are, but he knows Virgil will still freak if he sees him impersonating him, never mind the fact that he isn’t trying to impersonate anyone at the moment. He hisses in a breath, forcing himself to change back, change back, and he does, though it sends a shooting sharp zing up his spine.

“Um, Dee? You ok?” His head shoots up at the voice, forcing a smile to his face, forcing his mounting fear back as he can feel another change coming.

“Yes. Fine and dandy. Just finished the dishes.” He sweeps past Patton, letting his smile drop as soon as he’s passed Patton and turned down the hall, staggering against the wall as he is nearly knocked off his feet, the sharpness like a punch to his stomach, rattling his bones. Roman this time, it seems, and he clenches his fists, trying to breathe.

His gloves flicker in and out of existence for a moment, before they settle into reality, his outfit changing to his own, his face burning as it settles on Patton. It’s coming faster now, and he can’t stop it, and he doesn’t know what is happening.

His door seems like a distant mirage through the staggering pain that shatters in his skull each time his form flickers, he’s lost count of the changes, can’t keep track of the flickers he catches out of the corners of his eyes, here a green sash, there black dress pants, now a katana at his hip, now a hood pulled over his head, scales and blue eyes, green eyes and yellow gloves, red sash and black painted nails as he barely manages to shoulder his door open, stumbling across the room to his mirror.

He’s clutching at his hair, as it changes again and again, his own face unrecognizable, and it hurts, and he just wants it to stop because he’s not even sure who he is anymore, this amalgamation of the other’s traits melding and mixing and breaking and shifting and his reflection is dizzying to look at.

Then glass shatters, is sent flying across the room, and he belatedly realizes he has a new cut across his unscaled cheek, and for a moment, he’s himself again, eyes wide and afraid, the freckles across the bridge of his nose showing, with how pale his face is right now, and he stumbles back, broken glass crunching under his feet.

He lets out a soft cry of pain as he drops to the floor, heedless of the glass, face buried in his hands, too long bangs that aren’t his hiding his face, and he feels himself glitching, cracking, breaking, he is sure the cracks in the mirror are etched into his skin, sure that the slightest breeze will blow him apart, send him scattering across the floor.

It is too much, he doesn’t know why now, it is all hitting him, why now, it is all too much, when he’s had his entire existence to deal with every issue that he’s ever shoved back behind his walls, but suddenly those walls aren’t high enough and he’s drowning and he doesn’t know who he is anymore.

His gaze shoots up as he hears the door open, scrambling backwards against the wall, breathe catching in his throat, before another spasm rocks him to his core, and he flinches back so hard his head cracks against the wall, tears springing to his eyes, and he can’t find it in him to open them and see what he has become this time, he can’t stand to see the looks on their faces.

He is just starting to fit in, just starting to be accepted, just started having fun and being involved and not being purely maligned. And now, now this, now he looks like the monster Roman had once thought him to be, and he bites his lip hard as he curls forward, sickening nausea forcing his eyes open, his reflection staring at him from glass shards, a thousand different colored eyes staring back at him, and he doesn’t know which ones are his, if any of them have ever been his, he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to look like, he never has, he’s forgotten his own face.

“Dee.” A light touch rests on his shoulder, the voice low and soft, trying not to startle him. “what do you need?” Logan, he’s looking up at Logan, or is Logan looking at him? He doesn’t know, he can’t tell, he just shakes his head.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” He gasps out, trying to stifle the changes, hands fisting in his gloves, oh, gloves, the gloves are back.

“That’s ok, love. It’s ok to not know.” Roman murmurs, crouching beside him, carefully resting a hand on his knee, gentle enough he can easily pull away if he wants to.

“It hurts… I don’t understand… I can’t…” he stammers, voice cracking, a silent scream building in his throat, one that would shatter glass if he hadn’t already done that with his own fist, but his vocal chords are closing shut, and he can’t make any more words, which terrifies him, and soon his breath is gasping in and out, sandpaper rubbing his throat raw as he struggles to inhale.

“Breathe, Dee. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. You can do it, Dee. In and out.” His vision is spotty, but he recognizes Virgil’s voice, counting out the numbers slowly and steadily, whispering out soft encouragements between numbers, until his vision clears, and he realizes he’s slumped back against Remus, who must have slid in between him and the wall to cushion his head.

“DeeDee? You back?” He nods weakly, collapsing as a final wave of fiery flame races across his face, feeling everything shift back into place, his scales unfurl across his cheek, his capelet settle across his shoulders, his gloves firmly in place.

“yes. Sorry.” He manages, face pressed against Remus’s shirt, not trusting himself to look at anyone, not wanting to see his own reflection in the shattered glass, afraid of it for the first time in years.

“Oh, kiddo. There’s nothing to be sorry about. I was coming to check on you, cause you seemed a little off in the kitchen, when Logan heard you shout and the thump against the wall.”

He winces. He hadn’t realized he’d shouted. Hadn’t realized he’d been that loud.

“Don’t apologize again, or I’ll rip out your tongue and stitch it back on.” Remus whispers in his ear, making him let out a surprised snort, because that is Remus’s way of saying he’s worried, and he cares, and he’s here.

“you’re hurt.” Patton murmurs, and he wants to wince at the touch that ghosts over his cheek, where the glass cut it, but he doesn’t, because it is touch, and it feels good to be touched so gently.

“We should also bandage those knuckles, and get them some ice, so they don’t swell.” Logan responds, and he cracks open his eyes at the almost hesitant note in his voice, peeking out from the sanctuary of Remus’s arms just a tad, just to gauge the amount of disgust or hatred he’d be dealing with now.

“Hey. ‘S ok, Dee. No one’s mad. No one’s upset. We’re just worried about you, alright? That’s all. Just let us help, ok?” Virgil asks, no doubt picking up on his own anxiety, the cause of which wasn’t hard to guess. Especially since Virgil had lived with them so long before moving. Virgil could read him better than anyone else, save Remus.

“ok.” He whispers again, looking around the room, seeing Virgil’s words echoed in everyone else’s eyes, and he can feel the truth of it like cream being poured into black coffee, slowly mellowing out the bitterness to something tolerable.

He lets Remus carry him to the living room, lets Logan and Patton fuss over his hand, lets Virgil slip onto the couch next to him, and intertwine their hands without saying a word, just a silent pillar of support. He lets his head rest against Roman’s shoulder, who starts humming softly, Remus eventually joining to form a strange, lilting duet that flits like a hummingbird through his mind.

“it’s ok, Dee. You can sleep.” He feels Patton kiss his head softly, as Logan finishes carefully wrapping his hand in bandages, but he doesn’t let go, instead gently stroking his knuckles with his thumb, just light enough to send tingles up his arm. “we’ll be right here when you wake up. Then we can figure this all out together, m’kay?” Patton asks, and he is barely aware of mumbling something that could be a yes, because he is warm, and surrounded by people, and surrounded by touch, that grounds him in a way he hasn’t known in years.

“thank you.” He whispers, not sure if anyone can even here him, with how quiet his voice is, how small, and it hurts, honestly, to speak, but he forces those words out anyway, because he means them.

“Of course, love.” Roman murmurs in his ear, and he feels Virgil squeeze his hand gently in agreement, Logan pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles that sends shivers up his spine in a good way, Remus holding him just a bit closer, Patton gently tucking back his hair, and he is crying, finally, the silent tears slipping out because somehow being loved almost hurts more right now than being ignored and hated, because it gives him something to lose. And the last time he lost, he lost Virgil.

“you’re not gonna lose us, Dee. You’re not gonna scare us away. We will fight for you, I will fight for you, I promise.” Virgil, soft but fierce, and he can’t tell if he’d spoken out loud, or if his anxiety was just so strong that Virgil could read it with ease.

“I love you.” He says smally, slipping back into the darkness, every inch of him aching from the forced shifting, sore and feeling like every muscle has been pulled, every part of him stretched wrong.

“love you too, snake face. Now go to sleep.” Remus replies fondly, and he finds himself unable to disobey that soft suggestion any longer, not if his family will be there when he wakes up.

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your-world-with-nct · 4 years

Text

— here’s my (late) halloween blurb 🎃 !! it didn’t turn out exactly how i wanted it to, but regardless i hope you enjoy <3

💌 • 3:13am

“whose idea even was this?” you scoffed, carefully avoiding the piles of reeking trash scattered all over the entrance of the dilapidated building.

“chenle’s, unfortunately,” crush!jaemin followed closely behind you, making sure you didn’t trip over any of the old timber or garbage, “one of his family members bought the land and wanted to do it up or something, but he wanted to ‘explore’ the abandoned building before it gets knocked down.”

you continued to follow the unclear path, aided solely by your phone’s dimming flashlight in one hand and jaemin’s clammy one in the other, not because you wanted to hold his hand, but just in case you lost each other.

he yelped when he heard the snap of a twig resonate in the pitch black of the night, before realising it came from under your foot, “can you please tell me why we’re here again, babe?”

“huh? o-oh!” you practically choked, almost tripping over what you assumed was the building’s entryway, your entire body shutting down and going into panic mode, “wait, didn’t you just tell me why we’re here?”

the fact that you were more alarmed by jaemin’s use of that nickname rather than, well, not making it out alive tonight, really said something about your priorities. you knew it was all platonic but, man, couldn’t he warn you next time so that you wouldn’t have a heart attack?

“nooo, that’s not what i meant,” he giggled, his blinding smile lighting up the sheer darkness that was swallowing your surroundings, “i’m just saying, i would much rather be at home right now watching a BuzzFeed Unsolved video instead of basically making my own murder documentary series or something...”

“also, be careful with these wooden planks on the floor ‘cos they’re quite old, apparently jisung stepped on one too hard and almost fell through because his foot got stuck,” he clicked his phone off, shoving it into his pocket and scrutinising every floor panel before he stepped on it.

“as if this place wasn’t dodgy enough,” you tiptoed around a pile of old firewood and books, approaching what you assumed was the said ‘room on the right’, “has some sort of cult been burning whole ass libraries in here or something?”

“hopefully not,” jaemin muttered, flinching as the floorboards creaked when you entered the room, eyeing the room for his so-called friends that were the only reason he was stuck in some haunted mansion alone on Halloween at three in morning with his crush, “uhhh, y/n, i-i don’t think anyone’s here.”

flickering your phone’s torch around the room, you saw no sign of renjun, jeno, jisung or chenle, nothing indicating that they’d even been in here, “i’m sure we just went into the wrong room, let’s try that other door—”

a shrill banshee-like screech echoed throughout the building, before the rotting wooden door of the room slammed shut, simultaneously blowing out the singular candle’s weak flame, leaving you and jaemin with the crack of moonlight streaming in through the broken stained glass window as your only light source.

this time, jaemin was the first one to cling to you, his eyes squeezed shut as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, his heavy, uneven breaths brushing over your skin, “what, what was- why did- what was that?”

“i-i don’t know, jaems,” you whispered, your throat drying out at the close contact and the tense situation, “let’s just see if the door budges first.”

as you tried to bring yourself to let go of jaemin’s embrace, his hold on you tightened, and his pout intensified, “sorry, i-i’m scared, can you take me with you?”

that’s how you ended up sluggishly shuffling towards the door with the scared boy’s arms circled around your waist. it wasn’t the most effective but as long as he felt safe, you’d do anything.

it was weird - you’d seen jaemin this affectionate before but, never this vulnerable, not even in front of his best friends - was he really comfortable enough to be like this around you? never in your life would you have thought that the most intimate moment you’d spend with the boy you liked was trapped in a century-old building in the middle of the night on the brink of, well, death.

“hey, are you okay with this? i can see you kinda moving away, you don’t have to do this, by the way, i just needed some... comfort,” at this point, jaemin had noticed your uncomfortable aura, but had yet to realise that you were simply flustered, not disgusted.

“i’m fine, jaemin, don’t worry, i’ve just never seen you this scared before, maybe i shouldn’t have forced you to come here, my curiosity got the better of me when the boys were talking about it in the group chat, but now i just wanna go home,” you admitted, your ramble being silenced when he turned around to face you, caressing your cheek. whatever you were expecting to happen tonight, it definitely wasn’t this.

“oh, y/n, the only reason i agreed to come was because i knew how excited you were and i didn’t want you to come here alone,” jaemin’s eyes flickered to the door for a split second, before focusing on you again, “which clearly wasn’t the best idea since the only person needing protection here is me.”

the both of you finally let out a much-needed laugh, temporarily forgetting that you were literally in a horror movie scenario, “well, i appreciate you coming nonetheless. except for the bit where we got stuck in a sketchy place, i actually had fun tonight exploring with you.”

“me too, babe.”

silence filled the air as you two stayed in each other’s arms, the gleam of the moonlight hitting jaemin’s face at a perfect angle and lighting up his admirable features. you didn’t know if it was the close proximity or the supernatural magic of the moon but something in you gave you a newfound courage, as you leaned in and placed your lips onto your crush’s.

you had never been more relieved when he kissed you back, so immersed in the moment that you didn’t even notice the door fling open and your friends huddling together in awe at the sight.

“see, i told you that all we needed was some extreme conditions and they’d finally do something,” renjun whispered, but not quiet enough, as you and jaemin broke apart from one another, screaming at their sudden appearance.

“you guys have been here the whole time??? wait, was that chenle screaming before? and was it you who shut the door on us?” although you would’ve liked to revel in that moment for a little longer, you finally began to piece the mystery together, confirmed with one shameless nod from jeno.

“you’re... unbelievable...” jaemin panted, trying to regain his composure, “i thought i heard jisung fake-gag before but i didn’t think it actually was you.”

the said boy hid behind his hyungs, embarrassed to be the one that got them caught, “i heard you guys saying cute and mushy stuff to each other - i couldn’t help it.”

“so, was this all one big ploy to set us up together?” you sighed when jeno gave you another soulless nod, trying to get your head around the chaos you had just experienced, “as grateful as i am, couldn’t you have done it anywhere else at any other time?”

chenle shrugged, leading your group out of the creepy building, “eh, it was a spur of the moment thing, renjun hyung made the plan, me and jisung saw this place on the way home from the park, and it worked so, you’re welcome.”

“hey! i drove them here, i contributed too,” jeno chimed in, grinning when he saw the massive smile on his best friend’s face as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“next time, if i need your help, i’ll ask for it,” jaemin rolled his eyes, nonchalantly slipping his hands into yours, earning a few whistles and whoops from the rest of the guys, “i was actually doing quite well in there.”

“were you though?” you lowered your voice so only he could hear you, hovering outside of jeno’s car whilst the boys took their seats, “i seem to recall you being a tad bit frightened in there, hmm.”

your teasing face and cute smirk was too much for jaemin to handle, “ahh, i think we can keep that between us, babe, hm? how does that sound?”

he held his pinky out, waiting for you to comply to his deal, “as long as i get to give you kisses more often like i did back there, then my lips are sealed.”

swiftly and secretly, jaemin placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sliding into the car’s backseat, “sealed with a kiss, baby.” from then on, it’s safe to say that the boys never found out that it was in fact him screaming like a little girl in there and not you.

that night, you lay in bed, snuggled under a mountain of blankets with jaemin, pondering about what your halloween could’ve been like if not for the dreamies, since you usually didn’t celebrate it.

well, halloween had never been your favourite holiday, but, maybe, just maybe, you’d give it a chance, just like you gave na jaemin a chance.

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years

Text

Two broken hearts with matching sides -Chapter 6

Link: AO3

Here you can find Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five.

Notes: This chapter is longer than I expected, but I really didn't want to break anything in the middle so… well, I hope you enjoy it.

The party

He didn't even know how many glasses he had drunk. He only knew that the people around him were starting to rotate, and that the bitterness was starting to rise again. For a couple of days he hadn't thought about Laxus, he had been doing pretty well actually. After asking Lucy to host him for a few days, he had almost found a bit of a good mood. In fact, he had focused on university lectures so as not to have to think about it. And it had worked.

Until Lucy and Natsu decided to drag him to a college party. Freed was terrified of seeing Laxus at any moment. He knew he was there because he had crossed paths with Bickslow and Evergreen. If he had apologized to the two friends and talked a bit, he had not yet done so with Laxus. He hadn't even seen him. And he had refused to talk about him to anyone, partly because he desperately wanted to stop thinking about it, partly because if he started, he didn't know what would come out of his mouth.

“Cana, you made him drink too much,” Lucy snorted. “He was supposed to take us home, now how do we get back?” she asked.

“I can drive,” Freed said, feeling the keys Lucy had given him in his pocket. In reality he wasn't so sure he could do it, he would see at the end of the evening and if he didn't feel able to do it, they would walk back. It wasn't really a problem. Furthermore, he was convinced that Natsu would offer to accompany Lucy to her bed. Indeed, Freed felt a bit like the third wheel at the blonde's house, but he hadn't mentioned it.

“No, you can't,” Lucy said, laying her head on the table.

“You two are completely gone!” Cana exclaimed laughing.

“You made us drink too much,” Freed justified looking around. He was looking for Evergreen and Bickslow, but the two seemed to have disappeared from circulation. The first was probably making out with Elfman somewhere, while the second… well, the second could be anywhere with anyone.

Freed stood up, deciding that a walk would do him good. Usually, it helped him to get rid of the hangover, rather than sitting down to eat. Lucy stood beside him and grabbed hold of his arm.

“Are you going home already?” she asked plaintively.

“No, I'm just going to take two steps,” Freed replied.

“I'll take you,” Lucy said and Freed was forced to drag her behind him. He’d have preferred to avoid, Lucy was more drunk than him and she had started talking about Natsu and really, Freed didn't want to know what they were doing in bed. Fortunately, shortly after they crossed his boyfriend and Lucy jumped on him making him almost fall to the ground.

Freed let the two have fun and moved away from the party. He shoved past all the dancing boys and exited the Blue Pegasus. Finally outside he took a breath of air and sat on a bench, ignoring the group of boys who were smoking. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping that the cold evening air would be enough to make him regain some clarity.

He had been an idiot to drink so much, he wasn’t used to alcohol and Cana had brought him too many drinks. He should have simply refused, but he hadn't thought the brunette was still able to drink that much. He closed his eyes for a moment, resting his head on the wall and thinking back to the last few days.

He really needed an apartment, or a ticket to Germany. He honestly didn't know what to do, he felt a bit lost. Although he had recovered the relationship with many of his old friends, he could not recover the one with the most important person, and he felt terribly bad. Other than being ridiculous, he couldn't allow a single person to influence him that much.

He heard someone sitting next to him but didn't give it much importance, at least until the person spoke. He just greeted him, but at the all too familiar voice Freed snapped his eyes open and turned to see that he was Laxus. He stiffened suddenly and started to get up and go back inside the room, but the blond put his hand on his wrist.

“Wait,” he said harshly. “We need to talk”.

“We’ve nothing to say to each other,” Freed retorted. He moved his hand away and stood up. Laxus was immediately beside him.

“Are you running away again?” he asked irritably. Freed gave him a dirty look.

“I just go wherever the fuck I want,” he retorted and tried to pass Laxus to get back into the club, but the blonde moved blocking his way.

“Good heavens, we can't go on like this,” he growled.

“Why not? That was what you wanted, wasn't it? Let me get away from the apartment,” Freed grunted in response.

“I never wanted it and you know it well,” Laxus snapped.

“Hey, you're in the way,” one boy said, shoving them both. Freed and Laxus moved sideways to make room in front of the door. Freed turned his gaze back to the blonde, not understanding what he meant by that phrase. He didn't really want to think about it, he just wanted to go home and throw himself on the bed, drain a bottle of water, hoping not to have a hangover the next day and sleep. He’d had enough of fighting and Laxus. He’d had enough of everything.

He just wanted to have a normal fucking life, without being forced to sleep in a different place every night. He wanted to stop feeling so pathetic to still think of his best friend for whom he’d had a crush and for which he couldn’t stop feeling his feelings.

“I just know I don't want to see you anymore,” Freed hissed and turned to leave. He didn't even want to go back into the club anymore. Lucy would’ve Natsu take her home, she didn't need him. He went into the street to get away from the bar but Laxus followed him.

“Can you stop for once? Or will you continue to run away all your life?” he asked aloud a few steps behind him. Freed stopped in the middle of the road and turned to the boy. His irritation was palpable.

“Maybe I'm leaving because I don’t want to see you anymore,” he growled.

“You're running away,” Laxus insisted.

“What the hell do you want to talk about, huh? We haven't heard from each other for three years and suddenly you remember me?” Freed snapped starting to get irritated. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he wanted to pour it all out on him.

“What?” Laxus said in surprise and grinned. “You’re joking. It's your fault we haven't heard from each other again. You left, without even warning me, without even saying goodbye, without even sending me a fucking message. And you haven't even answered a single call from me, or a message from me. You have ended our friendship” he accused, raising his voice.

Freed laughed bitterly.

“Sure,” he mocked, “Because you were a great friend instead, always if what we did was as friends. Oh right, we didn't do anything. It was just drunken bullshit, and alcohol made you forget all about the next day” he said ironically but became serious soon after. He narrowed his gaze and stared at Laxus. “It was enough for me to come out and you didn't want to touch me or go out with me anymore. Every time I tried to talk to you, to get close to you, you walked away, you found an excuse, you went out with Jenny, with anyone just not to be with me anymore. And I’d have ruined our friendship? You did it long before I left,” he growled.

“If you had answered my calls, you would’ve understood that...” Laxus tried to say.

“I don't give a fuck!” Freed snapped. “I already know what you will tell me, that you were afraid and that you didn't want anyone to know, but I told you that day. I would never have forced you to tell anyone else!” he blurted out.

“It's not just that”.

“I don’t care!” Freed exclaimed.

“Holy shit, you won't even let me explain!” Laxus snapped. Freed started to argue but headlights illuminated the road and the two turned to the side seeing that a car was approaching. Laxus quickly grabbed Freed by the arm and pulled him towards him to move onto the sidewalk. Just in time not to be run over.

That gesture, however, had led the two boys to be terribly close. Laxus's hand was still wrapped around Freed's bicep, Freed's hands resting on his chest. Freed looked up and found himself within a whisker of Laxus's face. He could clearly smell the blond's last cigarette.

The desire to push forward, to join their lips to remember their taste and their texture was great. The desire to go back to stupid high school students who kissed without caring about anything other than momentary pleasure was too much. But at the same time Freed was terrified and realized that those few inches were driving him crazy.

He didn't want to start over. He didn't want to hurt himself again, and the old friend's breath on his face was already hurting him. Because Laxus wasn't walking away. Because Laxus had leaned even further towards him. Their lips touched and for Freed it was like getting a shock.

He drew back badly, pushing Laxus away from him with his heart pounding. He turned and decided to get away from him for good, took Lucy's keys and ran towards the parking lot.

***

Lucy was making out with Natsu. Between a laugh and the other she didn't know whether to give in to his advances and risk doing something in a parking lot where anyone could have arrived, or whether to wait to go home. The roar of an engine roused her from her thoughts and the two boys stopped abruptly, anxious to be discovered.

They turned to understand how far the car was, but when they saw the 500 leave quickly, they stood for a moment staring at the vehicle. Lucy for alcohol was still trying to figure out if she was right, and Natsu got there before her.

“It was Freed! He left us on foot!” the boy exclaimed. Lucy turned to his boyfriend.

“What?” she whispered. The reality of what had happened hit her in an instant. “No. He was drunk, he can't drive in those states,” she said worriedly. “Oh fuck. It wasn't him, was it? It wasn't him!” she exclaimed. She looked at Natsu hoping he would tell her what she wanted to hear, but the boy was sure of what he had seen.

“Shit,” Natsu said and ran to the club. “We’ve to reach him and stop him,” he said.

Lucy followed him and ran towards the entrance of the club, while a thousand scenarios came to mind. Freed had always been a careful guy, with his head on his shoulders. That was why she had left him her car keys. Because she knew that even if he got drunk, he wouldn't risk driving. Apparently, she was wrong.

They reached the entrance and luckily they immediately saw their friends there. Bickslow, Cana and Mirajane were talking and Lucy and Natsu approached the three boys. Natsu quickly explained to them what they had seen and asked them if anyone was sober enough to look for the boy.

“I haven't drunk anything, but how do we look for it? He's gone now,” Mirajane said worried.

“Why the hell did he do that?” Cana snapped. “It's not like Freed to leave like this!” she exclaimed.

“We don't know, we just saw him in the car,” Lucy said. At that moment Laxus came out of the room and Bickslow immediately stood in front of him.

“What the hell happened? Did you fight again?” he blurted out.

“What the fuck do you want,” the blonde grunted.

“What the fuck do I want? Good heavens, you’re two idiots!” Bickslow exclaimed “You know Freed left by car?”.

“What's the news, he's always leaving,” Laxus muttered.

“He's dead drunk! He'll kill himself.” Bickslow yelled and pulled out the phone, dialed a number but Lucy put her hand on his wrist.

“If you call him, he risks answering you while he drives. It would be even worse” she pointed out.

“What the hell do we do then?” Bickslow asked.

“Let's try to find him. He’ll have gone to my house,” Lucy reasoned. “Let's make the way and hope he's arrived safe and sound,” she said trying to stay calm. Mirajane nodded and pulled out the keys.

“Let's go then,” she said.

“Yes, you go. I'll call Ever and maybe we'll look around for him,” Bickslow said. Lucy nodded and walked away with Mirajane, Natsu and Cana.

***

Laxus had been sitting on the bench for at least half an hour now. He kept thinking back to the argument he’d had with Freed, and feeling anguished not knowing what had happened to the boy and fearing it was his fault. Freed left the party because of him. If only Laxus hadn't come close, if only he hadn't forced him to speak, it wouldn't have happened. And now Freed was in danger of having an accident. Even though Bickslow hadn't said it explicitly, Laxus knew he did too. It was all his fault.

His friend's phone vibrated and Laxus turned hopefully to Bickslow. The two had stayed there hoping to hear from friends.

“Did they find him?” Laxus asked. Bickslow read the message and shook his head.

“Mira has gone around the block, and Ever’s on her way to the hotel where Freed last went. But she doesn't see Lucy's 500 anywhere,” he replied. Laxus sighed feeling worse and stared at the ground, putting his hands to his forehead. What if he had been in an accident? But they would still have seen the car, right? They would hear the sirens, or the news. Someone would have noticed.

What if Freed had left Magnolia instead? If he had entered the freeway in his condition to get away from there? Nausea hit him instantly, fearing the worst. He suddenly had a mad desire to jump into the street and make sure nothing of the sort had happened. Freed wasn't like that. He wouldn't risk that much just to get away from him, just to run back to the airport.

Suddenly a thought struck him and he jerked his head up. How the hell had he not thought about it? He stood up.

“Where are you going?” Bickslow asked.

“For a ride”.

“Laxus, I know you’ve a thousand thoughts but I'm already worried about Freed. I don't want to worry about you too,” his friend said wearily.

“I just have to take a walk. If you find him send me a message” the blond replied and then turned and walked towards his car.

He got in and started the car, exiting the Blue Pegasus parking lot and heading for the fields near the stream where he and Freed always went as kids when they wanted to be alone and talk freely. It was a little way out of Magnolia, and it was the only place Laxus refused to go without Freed.

After a few minutes he arrived, and as soon as he was there, he noticed with relief Lucy's 500 parked intact near the entrance of the path that led to the stream. Laxus parked the car and got out, starting along the path and turning on the phone flashlight. He walked all over it, came up to a large tree and passed it, and then looked for the little path he and Freed once walked to bathe in the creek.

He didn’t find it, probably it had been covered by grass, but he continued anyway until he reached the bank of the stream. He looked around and after a few seconds he managed to spot the shadow of Freed, who was sitting about twenty meters from him on the bank of the stream.

Laxus decided to write to Bickslow in order to reassure him, telling him that Freed was fine. Then he made his way with the flashlight until he reached the boy. When he was close enough, he peered at him, but Freed was patently ignoring him. It was impossible that he hadn’t noticed his arrival, but he persisted in keeping his gaze fixed on the water that flowed in front of him.

Laxus followed his gaze for a moment and watched the stream, remembering the afternoons spent there. The afternoons spent talking about their problems, letting off steam with each other, playing, diving into the water and hiding from their parents. Why the hell had they screwed it up? They had always had a fantastic friendship, a friendship that anyone would pay gold for.

Laxus turned off the phone's flashlight and put it in his pocket, ignoring Bickslow's call and silencing the phone. He sat down next to Freed and turned to him.

“Everyone's worried about you. You should answer Bickslow,” he told him calmly. Freed surprisingly turned to him and for once his expression wasn’t that cold and impassive that Laxus hated. It was an open and wounded expression, which reminded him of the old days.

“You want to know why I left three years ago, right?” he asked calmly. Laxus didn't answer. He just looked into his eyes, hoping he would understand for himself that yes, he wanted to know. He wanted to know why the hell he had avoided his calls, why he hadn't wanted to let him explain.

“Because I was in love with you”.

Laxus froze, wondering if he had been hallucinating or if he had heard right. Freed smiled bitterly and turned back to the stream, took a stone and threw it into the water. The blond continued to stare at him in astonishment. Had Freed been in love with him in the past?

“I couldn't stand close to you as a friend anymore,” Freed revealed. “Actually, I couldn't stand seeing you with Jenny. So I decided that a little different air would do me good” he explained. Laxus felt his throat go dry not knowing what to think. Knowing that Freed was in love with him at the time was… shocking. If only Laxus had known he would have acted differently.

“I didn't know,” he only managed to say.

“Of course you didn't know,” Freed said. “I kept it well hidden. Well, at least when I wasn't getting drunk,” he commented throwing another pebble into the stream. He continued speaking with a surreal calm. “For a while I thought you reciprocated. You know... for what we did. Then when we talked I realized that this wasn’t the case. I don't blame you for it, you made it clear from the first evening that there was nothing more than friendship between us. I just didn't want to understand it”.

Laxus swallowed nervously. It wasn't true. He'd only spent those nights with Freed because he was a coward who couldn't even admit his true feelings to his best friend. If he had done it, things would have been different. They could have dated, even in secret, going out for a while without ruining their friendship.

“And when I chose to come out, I finally realized that there was nothing between us. I was a little pissed off, and I left,” he said. “Oh, and I blocked you on all social networks. It was silly and childish, and I knew you were trying to contact me. Bickslow told me. But I didn't want to have anything to do with you anymore. You know… I just wanted to forget you,” he revealed.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made him talk so much. Laxus didn't know. He just knew he felt bad knowing. He had thought that Freed hated him, that he didn't care about him anymore. He had called him so many times, he had left him many messages on his answering machine in which he apologized and asked him to speak. There had even been one in which he had written to him that he was in love with him, but he had never received an answer. And when after a month he had given up, he had begun to hate Freed rather than himself. To blame him for everything.

“Have you ever read or listened to one of the messages I sent you?” Laxus asked. Freed shook his head. “If I had known, I wouldn't have acted like that,” the blond said. “I would never have dated Jenny. I thought you didn't care. After the day we talked, I thought that for you it was just... a thing without feelings. Yes, maybe you were attracted to me, but I thought you weren't very interested in me”.

Freed turned his gaze to him and frowned.

“However, you didn't have the same feelings.”

“I did,” Laxus said. I still do, he thought.

“What?” Freed whispered widening his eyes.

“I was in love, but I was an idiot. I don’t even know what I was afraid of, I didn't want anyone else to know and... I know you told me we shouldn't tell anyone but... I hated the idea that someone even suspected something like this. I loved spending my time with you but I felt… wrong. I went out with Jenny to convince myself that I was attracted to women” he threw out.

Freed remained silent and Laxus glanced at him, not knowing what to expect.

“I'm sorry. I should never have distance you,” Laxus said. “I only realized everything I had done when you left for Germany. I tried to contact you anyway but you didn't answer and… I ended up pissed off,” he revealed.

Freed felt it all hit him at once. He was still a bit confused by alcohol, but the fresh air and the walk had cleared his mind. Now the confusion was mainly due to Laxus and his words. If only he had replied to a message, they wouldn't have been there talking about the past right now. If only he had answered a goddamn call. He had been a coward and an idiot, he had put it all behind him for nothing. He hadn't even given him a chance.

“I should never have left,” he whispered more to himself than to Laxus. Three years thrown down the toilet. To tell the truth, a friendship and a possible relationship thrown down the toilet. Now Laxus wasn't interested in him anymore, right? He had spoken in the past tense, and then, he was dating Rufus. Freed was still the same idiot in love, even after so long. Forgetting a person must have been easy, but forgetting the best friend with whom he had spent more than eight years together was impossible for him.

He had to tell him, he had to at least try. Know and clearly hear the blonde's answer. Make it clear, but he couldn't do it. Because he already knew the answer. Laxus had moved on with Rufus, he was only there because he lacked his friendship with him. And if Freed revealed his feelings, they would never be friends again. Not that there was any hope of returning as it once was.

Freed looked down at his hands. He should have answered Laxus years ago. If only he had done it, he would have taken the plane and returned to Magnolia, in the arms of his friend. They would spend an entire summer together and then, maybe, they would start dating seriously. Maybe in secret, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be with Laxus.

It was useless to think about the past. He had to think about the present, tell him that he was still in love and that was why he was so pissed off when he saw him with Rufus.

“It's too late?” Laxus asked in a whisper, rousing him from his thoughts. Freed turned and met his gaze. He didn't answer and the blond walked over to him.

Freed felt his throat go dry as the boy's breath hit his face. He didn't understand what was happening but that didn't stop him from pushing forward slightly, without having the courage to close the distance between them.

Their breaths mixed but neither of them dared to take the last step. They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, trying to understand what the other wanted, without speaking. But it was impossible, they hadn't made it years before when they were good friends, they would never have made it at that moment.

“I don't want to repeat the mistake of years ago,” Freed murmured.

“Me neither,” Laxus replied in a low voice.

“What do you want?” Freed asked in a whisper.

“You”.

Freed's eyes widened slightly. “You mean…?”

“I want to go out with you, if it's not too late.”

“It isn't,” Freed replied and his lips curled into a tiny smile. Laxus did the same and they continued to stare at each other for a while, before starting to speak in a low voice again.

“I don't want to screw it up again,” Laxus admitted.

“Me neither”.

Freed wanted to push himself and kiss him. It took so little. But the terror of ruining everything again tore him apart, even though this time he knew that Laxus really wanted to go out with him.

He turned his head to the side and rested his chin on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his torso holding him in a hug. A little later he felt Laxus' arms do the same. It was such an intense sensation that he couldn't find the words to describe it. Being in Laxus's arms was the best he could want at the moment. Finally back next to his friend. It was all so surreal that he didn't want to move.

“I missed you,” Laxus whispered in his ear, holding him tight.

“I missed you too”.

Ignoring the cold evening air, the two boys remained embraced on the bank of the stream, forgetting the time that passed.

#fraxus #freed x laxus #fanfiction #laxus dreyar #freed justine

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