#portrait was so praised and i had to look everywhere to watch it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beann-e · 3 years

Text

Mha Characters reacting to being hugged randomly by their s/o

Shinso

-shinso would welcome you & your hug & words & then fight you to see who’s better with their words

-i take from his character that he loves winning — no matter if it’s something small or not he’ll act like he doesn’t care for it but won’t stop until he wins

It’s been a hard day he’ll admit.

Today was his first day being around class 1-A — and he could honestly say

they were just as annoying as he thought

Everyone was too quick to welcome him and surround him which just pissed him off

well, apart from the asshole with the red eyes who he refused to keep eye contact with

just bakugous mere presence or even his mouth opening pissed him off

Knowing deku and going off of how they first met when he shoved him out of the arena

showing him yet again that the hero course was not to be messed with

he thought he was prepared to meet the same person only for him to be wrong and walk in to see hero deku and class deku were two different people he was not yet ready to meet

To him hero deku was hardcore and fight fight fight

class deku was a loser

a loser who got bullied , fell on the stairs flat on his face, and got embarrassed by aizawa when he for the 4th time yet again in one class started staring at shinso with wide eyes like a tiny pervert and writing like a stalker his notebook

He took a deep breath before he grabbed the handle to your door just knowing that being by your side he may feel a little better

he silently prayed that today you weren’t doing something weird in your room like he often’d find you.

Thanking god when he saw you at your desk a small wave coming from you at his entrance

“ drawing — give me a sec “

he grunted as he sat on your bed hands holding him up while he flicked through his phones many apps — well not many seeing as though he rarely had time to get on his phone

Which is why he was confused when he found himself actually going through it pausing when he noticed he’d ended up on google trying to figure out different dog barks and their meanings hoping he could find a way to talk to bakugou and tell him to shut the hell up

“ you uh — “ he threw his phone behind him on your bed propping himself up to lay back “ you still drawing “

“ mmhm “ you said softly as you traced on the paper in front of you attention focused on your new hero design

“ oh “ his voice was soft you knew something was wrong he wasn’t a man of many words but he would always try to string a sentence along for you

“ hey shin you good “ you put the pencil in your mouth as you erased a line you’d messed up on

“ yeah “ he moved to stand up “ yeah “ he let out while looking around your room “ just tired baby “

your eyes creased as you ran the words through your mind until you both sat in silence the room growing cold

‘ somethings off ‘

“ well my uh — my girlfriends too bus— “

his mouth fell open in a wide o as he looked down to see your face pressed into his chest hands tied around his back your feet planted right in between his as you two stood in the middle of the room

His heart beating out of his chest when he noticed what you were drawing

“ y/— “

“ shh “

you pushed yourself further in his chest “ hug me back please babe “

he jumped forgetting that sometimes he had to return your affection and couldn’t just accept it.

That was hard for him to let himself do the things you do so freely.

His arms hung loosely around your back making you smile “ your getting there “ your voice came out muffled “ I’m so proud of you pretty boy “

he shook at your praise “ p-pretty boy “

“ yeah — your fucking hot babe “ he felt himself sinking into you

“ h-how — how am I hot ? “ the word fell foreign on his lips

“ your quirks so amazing — you look so good when your trying your best it makes me feel warm inside — and I especially like when you use your voice mask “

he found himself smiling

“ don’t get me started on your looks who can pull off purple hair like you shin “

“ you — you could “

“ oh god see and your an amazing liar — your all around awesome shin “

“ t-thank you but I don’t des—“

“ you deserve it “

you two fell quiet as he gripped you harder finally giving in to your affection

‘ he’s ok now ‘

“ how did you know something was “ he sighed out as he pressed his head in your hair “ off “

“ your always tired shin — always — you’ve never actually voiced it though so I was — I felt off myself when you said it —it felt weird “

“ you knew off of one phrase “

“ one phrase “

he smiled into your hair pulling your face back to plant a kiss to your forehead

“ see so fucking beautiful baby “

your thumb traced his face making sure to run under his eyes feeling just how tired he actually was when you felt his eye bags

“ no after school rant today “ he laughed mocking you in your own voice

“ get to sleep baby you have class tomorrow— shin if I see any new eyebags i’m kicking your ass — bab— “

you pushed him away as he fell back on your bed

“ what ? what I was just saying — i mean am i wrong you do say all of those things “

“ get out “ you protested sitting back in your chair continuing your drawing “ come look at this “

he sat confused as he blinked “ I uh “

“ choose the latter “

he smiled as he walked over to your chair draping himself over your shoulder “ your so talented “

“ no I just — i draw “ you said softly

“ oh she just draws “ he copied “ the beautiful lady just draws as she proceeds to draw a portrait of my new hero costume “

he pouted “ you couldn’t have possibly done this all right now how long did this take you “

you looked away

“ I told you I knew you were sad “ sighing as you looked up at him neck bent backwards

“ so I started drawing it when I walked past you in the hallway like I said your always tired but today you were wiping at your eyes constantly — yawning and just then you confirmed it saying you were tired so I “

you looked away “ I drew what you’d been trying to “

he moved to place his lips on yours not letting up until the both of you had to tap out at the lack of oxygen “ your so fucking beau— “

“ Beautiful “ you cut him off words syncing with his up as you two continued the rest of the night with you yelling at him about how he had to open up to his classmates and accept their flaws first before he came to talk badly about them to you

except for bakugou he could talk badly about him

“ thank you for the hug “

“thank you for the acceptance on my drawing “

“ thank you for the praise “

“ thank you for being with me“

he scoffed as his face grew hard before relaxing into a smirk “ thank you for loving me “

“ y-you win “

he laughed as he met your face with one more kiss smiling down on you “ I win “

Bakugou

-you only know because he doesn’t get upset at your actions and your in total surprise

You moved your hand to poke at your boyfriend for the 7th time in a row

your body ducking under his bed in fear of his screams everytime you poked

you frowned when he didn’t acknowledge you

you were only doing it because you wanted to hear some kind of response from him most times when you annoyed him like this he would pick you up and plop you on his bed and tickle the life out of you until you both fell asleep

For some reason he was barely even moving from the spot he came in and laid himself down in

After class the both of you walked to his dorm and he unlocked it holding it open for you and walking in after throwing his backpack to the corner as he ripped off his uniform blazer hand outstretched for yours as he laid them over the back of the desk chair

squatting down to help you take off your shoes and then grabbing them to place at the door his own falling right off his feet with a loud thump.

Him moving to his bed grabbing you and sitting you down on the floor in front of him your legs crossed in front of you as he laid on the bed looking at your sitting figure on the floor

His eyes never leaving yours the whole time until he finally shook his head and turned away from you causing your body to fall

thus leading to your endless pokes

‘ wait now that I think about it ‘

“ babe— have you talked at all today “

you looked to the floor “ I— I don’t think you’ve talked all day “ holding out your hand counting off your fingers

“ at lunch you didn’t even ask me what I wanted you just “

your hands moved up with your shoulders in a shrug “ got it “

you played with the hem on your pants

“ at practice you didn’t partner with kiri you just stayed near me and when we got in your room you“

you looked to your feet voice soft trying to sort through your mind

“ you took my shoes off for me “

you sat for a moment moving to poke him again his body never moving no answer being given to you

“ I know your not sleeping kats —you breathe heavy as shit when you are so “

he didn’t laugh or even grunt nothing falling from his lips as your eyebrows quirked into a knowing furrow

Hands and body leaving the floor as you climbed on his bed to lay on top of his body

your chest draped over his right side

legs straddling his own and your mouth pressed right into his ear

“ I swear i’m not going anywhere baby “

you watched as his eyes moved from the wall across from you two to the pillow right next to him

in hopes of conserving his feelings

“ your doing great — your the coolest and strongest guy I know “

you kissed the outer shell of his ear

“ your so respectful and understanding of my needs“

you placed a kiss to his jaw “ your cuddles are amazing and you make me feel loved when you finally give in and let me win our fights — snuggling up to me on the couch “

you moved to kiss the end of his eyebrow

“ your so hot when you talk to me —that’s when I find you the hottest “

your eyes fell to his lips as you stared down on him

“ when you answer me — and acknowledge me “

he grunted a little in response

his eyes closing when your mouth found his neck kissing softly as you smiled

“ there you go pretty boy“

he groaned as you hugged him arms wrapping around whatever part of his body you could find

“ your kissing everywhere but where I want you to “

“ and where’s that “

“ you know babe “

his face flashed a look you weren’t fast enough to catch as you laughed at him

“ fine fine “

you let your lips hover over his as he turned his body so you were now laying directly on top of him

his hands coming to rest on your lower back

“ before I give you this kiss “

“ fuck—seriously y/n — you can’t just talk after—you worked me up expecting a kiss “

he shook his head in annoyance “ fucking tease — I knew I should’ve kept my mood “

“ but why “ your face dropped as you looked around his “ why did you have a mood katsuki “

he grunted “ because I “

he sighed as he looked directly into your eyes “ sometimes I feel like i’m not doing enough like I could do more for you and sometimes I feel like I treat you like an asshole and what — what girl wants to date an asshole “

he shook his head “ I don’t know if I tell you I love you enough or if I— if I show you that I can protect you if I wanted to or even that I can supply all your needs “

he mumbled under his breath “ I don’t even know if i talk to you enough “

you smiled as you ran your hand through the top of his hair “ you do — you do it all “

you laughed “ and your just fine “

he looked away as you pulled his face back

“ no kats look at me “ his eyes darted away hating how he just opened up to you and now you were begging for eye contact he felt stupid and way too open

“ kats look “ he slowly found his eyes moving to yours at your tone

he knew not to mess around when your praising him it pisses you off and one thing he knows he doesn’t feel like dealing with is a pissed off girlfriend

especially after he just cleaned up his room from your last outburst of firing off his gauntlet at his negligence to answer you

luckily he fell submissive right after mind racing at your attempt to kill him over a small eyeroll and scoff at your praise

Only sucking up his attitude so he didn’t have to run into another problem like that where aizawa flat out kicked his ass for the hole you created in the wall that he somehow took the blame for when he felt your stone cold stare on his back in the office

he was not about to risk his good moment with you right now

“ your amazing , Beautiful , smart and talented “ he shook at the praise body growing hot

“ your doing so good for me and I couldn’t ask for anymore “ you smiled slightly “ keep doing what your doing “

his heart thumped hoping you couldn’t hear it

“ and also i’m not complaining —if you y’know ever wanted to take off my shoes for me again “

he scoffed as he looked away from you and back “ how’d you know “

“ you always tickle me when I poke and annoy you “

you pouted as he spoke “ huh always ? “

“ always “

“ you know my routine that much “ you shook your head in a yes

“ so now that I know why your always pissing me off and what you want I doubt I feel like giving it to you anymore “

you moved to get off of him “ ok well i’m sure it’s a bit more fun with kirish—“

your loud laugh ripped through the room as you fell to his floor with a loud boom

his mouth curling up into a smile as he dragged you back on the bed your protest falling on deaf ears as he continued until he finally stopped speaking into your ear softly

“ I lov—“ he shook his head burying himself into your chest “ fuck you shitty woman “

you smiled at his words hand raking up the back of his neck and into his hair “ I love you katsuki “

kiri

-the only way I can see you understanding somethings off with kirishima is if he just hasn’t been smiling or making comments all day

-then your like :0 uh woah dude my boyfriend hasn’t smiled all day

“ how about ice cream and a movie ? “ you turned to the red head sitting on the couch beside you then shaking you head at your question “ nah sounds lame right “

you laughed “ I knew you would say that “

you pouted when your thoughts finally connected “ oh — nevermind babe i’m sorry I forgot I didn’t do my homework it’s the one midnight gave us I should probably get started—“

Your mouth moving so fast you missed the way the speed in his leg increased in its shakes , the puff of air he let out at your continued talking when he just wanted silence.

Sometimes he enjoyed being around bakugou because at least he had silence for a moment just a moment until he would scream his head off only to return back to the quiet environment he’d created before

“ so yeah it’s a lot and if I don’t get it turned in today I may just fail her clas -“

“ then get it done “ his voice was low and quick to snap at you which had your mind stalling

you laughed uncomfortable with the way he spoke to you “ aw uh where’s my happy guy “

he scoffed as he shifted on the couch his leg speeding up its pace “ where’s my annoying girlfriend “

he snapped his fingers pointing it to you “ oh I spy with my little eye “

his voice was dead as he spoke

“ she’s right next to me “

your eyebrows furrowed as you jumped back a bit

you couldn’t even make out words after his comments

you knew for your few months of dating kirishima that it couldn’t be possible for him to be happy and care about people’s feelings all the time

he had to open up and let you see him pissed off at least once to seal the deal on your relationship

this was it

this was the seal but for some reason you didn’t know if you could close it —much less address it and find the problem

“ kirishima what’s wrong with you “

“ you’ve just been talking all day baby i’m a bit tired of just— “

he felt his body growing a bit hotter than normal , you feeling the heat from his words make their way over to you everytime he spit them out

“just hearing you — I know I can go on and on for hours but if I can go hours you can go days and I just never noticed until now “

“ oh “

“ yeah I need some silence right now babe and your—your not helping” his voice was low even upset he was still trying to save your feelings not that it worked

“ no ones helping “

you looked from your boyfriend to everyone around the room

their voices echoing with laughter everyone spread out around the room as they spoke about what they all did today.

The kitchen full of people

bakugous yelling moving its way down the dorm halls

your face dropping as you stood and grabbed his hand that he snatched back quickly

“ I don’t want to leave “

you pouted settling yourself back on the couch you didn’t know how to deal with him like this and his best friend wasn’t here and almost everyone else he said was adding to his anger would just make him angrier right ? if you called them over

so who could you get to help ?

“ I may be pissed off by them but I — I still want to be around people I don’t want to be upset and alon— “

Time slowed as he felt his body weigh down almost as if he felt the weight of himself when he used his quirk.

Eyes widened before they closed basking in the heat your body supplied as you crawled in his lap wrapping your arms around his neck legs around his own in a straddle

his body just relaxing into your hold not making any movements the occasional jump to follow you whenever you would move

“ come on tell me what’s wrong baby “

your voice was soft in his ear not wanting to draw attention over seeing as though he wasn’t in the best of moods “ who do you want me to fight “

you looked closely at his face as he was just quiet hands finally moving to push both your legs up so that he could get you as close as possible his mouth moving to kiss yours

happiness of the moment overflowing within you as you let him guide you in the kiss surrendering all control to him and letting him lead

“ just feeling a little background today ? “ you said smiling hands cupping his face

“ I understand it gets to someone after a whil— “

“and everyone acts totally brand new when they see i’m not happy for one day —baby one literal day —why am i just expected to be happy all the time “

he dropped his head to your chest “ i’m not no one is”

“ so then tell me what’s wrong why aren’t you happy today “

“ nothings wrong y/n “

his voice boomed loud through your chest

“ nothing is wrong I just feel like having quiet today but because of that —here everyone is —in my face asking me what’s wrong telling me i’m not myself “

he tried to bury his head further in your chest

“ when I want quiet everyones loud and I —I never noticed how loud i am —how loud everything is until I stopped talking and I hate it —I hate how loud everything is “

you sighed as his fingers ran along your thigh “ I thought if I followed you out here to watch a movie I would be comfortable “

his voice was sad “ I just wanted to come out here and watch a movie with my girlfriend but “

your hand running over his shoulders and back up finding a hold in his hair

“ I just got more pissed off when you actually started talking I just expected —if no one else could be quiet then you would “

“ well i’m sorry I wasn’t quiet “

“ you shouldn’t have to be not cause I want you to be“

“ that’s right “

“ I know “ he took a deep breath looking up at

“ I know you think i’m an asshole now because you’ve seen this side of me—the angry one but “

“ I don’t think your an asshole or you’d be sitting in bakugous room right now crying that there’s lemon juice in your eyes “

his mouth shut instantly as he stared at you in fear your thumb running circles over his cheek

“ h-how can say something like that and “ he shook his head “ that’s so manly god I love you so much “

“ I love you too but —you have to tell me things kiri I can’t just “

you flicked his forehead as he crinkled his nose in pain “ I can’t just read your big brain”

“ but you did it just now “

“ huh “

“ all I wanted was for you to hug me and like shower me in kisses to calm me down and you “

he kissed your forehead “ you did it —which kinda had me confused on how you knew me so well “

you laughed “ you looked sad —upset and I wanted to remind you that I was still here regardless of how you feel —you cat push me away that easily “

he smiled widely as you two felt heat radiate through your bodies

“ I really do love you baby months or years or days I love how well you know me”

your mouth opening to laugh as you cuddled into his neck

“ guys kirishimas fine “ denkis voice made the both of you shake

“ I told you he just wanted some attention from y/n —guys he just has a small case of simptitis “

your head turned quickly as you seen the shaking boy beneath you “ uh your room “

“ my room “

375 notes · View notes

the-slasher-files · 3 years

Note

Hello there! I’m back with another request. Can you write some headcanons of Michael, Jason, Bo and Bubba if their S/O was an artist? I’m an artist and I would love to see their reaction if I showed them one of my latest drawings.

Yay.. ok so I’ve got a few requests for this (from a shy s/o to a confident one) so I kind of mixed them together :) also btw I don’t write for Bubba but I will write for all the others, plus more! hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS WITH S/O THAT LOVES TO DRAW OR IS AN ARTIST

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT, and CHROMESKULL

JASON VOORHEES

First of all living where you do at the cabin there is so much inspo from deer, to the lake, to changing of the seasons.. It is honestly the best place for an artist

Jason always noticed a black notebook lying around with pens and pencils on every other surface, and you were oddly protective of the book, so he left it alone respecting your boundaries

Sitting with him in the quiet cabin Jason loved the sounds of the pencils scratching along the paper, and he loved to watch the soothing motions of your wrist going to work

Slowly he will become more and more interested in what you're doing and he needs to see. Sneakily inching himself closer to you as you work away and stretching his neck as far as he can, catching a glimpse then feeling guilty

Jason wants to respect you so much but it kills him that you’re not showing him. So when you were in the shower he quickly ran to the book and gently ran his fingers over your work, amazed at how good everything was and how you brought the nature/animals to life in the book from around the camp

Flipping a page then he is met with sketches of himself, with the mask and without, his hands, some of his wounds with the bones sticking out... it was beautiful and he couldn’t look away until you walked into the room pushing him away from the book but seeing his expression made you melt, he loved it so much and slowly brought out confidence in you, making you show him your work all the time

A few times he had brought some art supplies home from a group of teens that came along

One day he came home to canvases all over the floor and red paint splattered all over your old t-shirt Jason freaked out thinking it was blood in the dim lighting, he stepped on your canvases with muddy boots and held you up making you yelp... “Baby it’s just paint”... well now he feels foolish and upset for stepping on your art

The next night he still felt bad but you showed him what you had created from “the incident”... Bright colours framed the bootprint and brought out the muddy tones, some of the canvases had pressed flowers along the details of the print and it was so beautiful Jason immediately hung them on the wall

Just an fyi he wants to always do crafts with you lol so make sure you help him

MICHAEL MYERS

Now this guy is pretty indifferent to everything but something about your art brings out a new side in him

You can say a lot of things about Michael but you cannot say he isn’t observant, he sees everything and knows everything

Like Jason he notices your many notebooks and various art supplies around the house, but he is far more intrusive than Jason and will rip the notebook from your hands holding your neck if you protest as he flips through it

Watching his face nothing changes, he just scans the pages then throws the notebook down walking away leaving into the night

The next morning notebook, paints, pens, brushes and other supplies litter the kitchen counter... wonder who got those???

Michael loves watching you work on your art, watching your facial expressions, the way the pens run along the paper and how the paint coats the canvases.. oop you just gave him an idea

One night he came home gruesomely cover in blood a little more than extra, and Michael moves above you and the art you are working on, whoops he is dripping blood on the canvas, then smearing it, then moving his knife along it using it as a brush, I guess

You yelled at him at first but watching how he seemed to enjoy the colours mixing together and the way the blood dried was sort of.. cute

You knew Michael had a funny and creative side just by the way he walked into the bedroom one night with a sheet over himself and sunglasses on, and the way he leaves marks on your body in a certain pattern or framing his favourite features of you. Michael’s art was his kill you realized

He really loves your pieces, even though he would never say so and Michael’s favourites were the sketches of himself you did and he would paint blood along them

You weren’t gonna lie it made the portraits more interesting and honestly beautiful, they quickly became your favourites as well

I’m sorry but my horny self just wants to see Michael in an all-black suit at an art gallery admiring the masked portrait of himself covered in blood... sorry but it’s hot lol

BO SINCLAIR

So Bo is not really observant so it might take him a while to notice the art supplies around the house but even then he thinks it’s just Vincent’s

You will probably have to do just do the art in front of him before he gets that its your art supplies.. man sucks lol

Bo really enjoys your company when he is in the shop, you just sitting there working away in your notebook and him under the hood of his truck

He doesn’t necessarily push to see what you’re drawing but Bo teases, the harder you hide it the harder he teases... “what ya got in there sex drawings?” “Fuck darlin’ let me be your model”

If you don’t want him to see what you’re doing never leave your notebook behind because the man is a snoop in every sense of the word

Bo 100% supports your art even though he isn’t very interested in it and doesn’t really get it, if it makes you happy he will steal supplies from his twin and if victims have notebooks or pens he will bring them to you immediately

On a day where you decided to spend the day at the shop, sitting on your chair sketching away while Bo was organizing his tools, he kept catching your glances and smirked “Baby, you need somethin?” he would ask smugly.

“Nope” a simple answer not stroking his ego “gonna grab a beer from downstairs you want one?” Bo nods as you make your way to the mini-fridge. Quickly the man strides over to the notebook, opening the page where you had placed your pencil. He knew it, sketches of himself, it makes his ego skyrocket.

“BO!!” pushing him away and he grabs the book holding it just out of your reach smirking “Momma always said I’d be a good model” “Don’t flatter yourself Sinclair, you’re the only man around for miles that doesn’t wear a mask or look like a trash man” you laughed as him smirk fell... run

He honestly loves your art even though Bo gives you a hard time... His favourite thing is falling asleep to the pencil sounds against the paper when you’re laying in bed together

VINCENT SINCLAIR

SAAAAAAME... lol

The man notices right away that he begins to lose his an unused notebook and some of his best art pencils

It made you very nervous to show Vincent what you sketched and painted since he was just so good at art in every way. It was unfair

His favorite thing to do with you is make little sculptures from wax or clay, he could tell you were very creative and good at what you made, and he would always be super supportive

Vincent’s praise and support made you more comfortable with doing your art around him and even showing him. The man loves it and loves all of it

Different from his brother, Vinny respects you a lot and is fine with not looking in your notebook until you’re ready to show him. He hates when people see his unfinished work and flip through his notebooks as well

The good thing about dating him is Vincent’s art stuff is now yours

Also he is a very good teacher, somehow though he cannot talk, Vinny never makes you feel bad about your art and if you need help he is more than happy to support

Art date nights!! Getting the idea from your phone, you lit all the candles and brought down all the paint you could along with the large unused canvases you had found. When Vincent strolls downstairs his eyes go wide, seeing you in just your bra and underwear “I’m ready for art class Vin” you giggle

When he finds your paintings or sketches of himself without his mask Vincent’s heart melts, finding someone like you to love him, let alone see his destroyed features as art kills him

CHROMESKULL

Jesse is a very watchful human, even when he isn’t at home the guy has cameras literally everywhere

When he was gone on a "business trip" you had all the free time in the world, plus you had picked up some new art supplies, so why not work a large piece when Jesse isn't around to distract you... When you had worked on for a few hours you got a text 'How's the painting coming along?' And that's when you realized cameras are everywhere!

If you are a shy person with your art he basically doesn’t allow you to be, he’s a pushy spoiled man but he is also very supportive and it makes you more confident in showing him

Jesse honestly loves art and has many expensive paintings in his large home, so when he sees your art you better believe he will have Preston frame the art and put it on the walls, with special art gallery lights really making it look perfect

If you need any and I mean any art supplies no matter how expensive Jesse supports it *hands you his gold credit card*

"Oh.. renovations? To the already perfect mansion?" "Yup.. it's your new art studio"

Art, wine and cheese nights... the perfect date

Feeling uninspired? alright time to change the scenery, let’s go to a tropical destination or a wintery cabin. The man wants to spoil you and put your passion at the top of his priority list, plus he just wants a vacation and see you in your swimwear

It doesn't matter if you're shy about your art or confident Jesse will say he is taking you to an event, get you all dolled up and take you to an art gallery event that is just your art... surprise! Dumb rich bastard loves your work and flaunts it to everyone he can

534 notes · View notes

writinglizards · 3 years

Note

someone wanted us to kiss for a picture and i thought you were gonna stage kiss me w/ your thumbs in the middle buT NO OH MY GOD THATS……………..THATS A REAL KISS WOW OK au -- another writing prompt I lost the link to 💖

Okay, so this got WAY out of hand, but here you go! <3

Title: A Portrait of the Artist in Love

Summary: Jaskier's senior exhibition requires he present a sequence of cohesive photos representing a theme of his choosing. Geralt, after seeing the photos in person, notices one's missing.

Read on Ao3

"So what's the matter?" Geralt finally asks when Jaskier stomps through the living room for the third time in under twenty minutes, his eyes still firmly trained on the tv set. He can't look like he cares too much or Jaskier will shut down on him, he knows.

"What's the matter is I've got my senior exhibition in two months and I still haven't settled on a fucking theme, that's the matter," he bites out, back to the sofa and hands threaded firmly through his hair, tugging hard.

Geralt sighs. All of Jaskier's problems seem to circle back to his senior exhibition. "I thought you had some photos?"

"I did," he says, tone venomous, "and then Valdo decided he was going to do a series on music and I refuse to compete with that pompous arse." Geralt bites his tongue against the 'why does what Valdo's doing matter?' He knows better.

"So? What are your ideas?" Jaskier shifts as if to speak, "and don't tell me you don't have any, I know you do." He clicks the tv off and shifts around to face Jaskier's back as he sighs, shoulders going slack.

"I want to do something personal," he says, and Geralt can hear the frustration in his voice, "something important. Not--" he can picture the way his face is scrunched up just from his tone, "--not something predictable, something trite. I want to do something meaningful."

"Okay. So make it personal. What's important to you, Jaskier?" he asks, voice soft, and watches as Jaskier's shoulders gradually go taunt again.

"Oh. Oh I could--" he cuts off, whirls around, and the nearly manic light in his eyes makes Geralt smile.

"There you go," he says, and Jaskier beams. The look on his face steals Geralt’s breath, tightens his chest. Jaskier crosses the room, headed for his bedroom slash photo studio and presumably his camera, but he pauses at the couch to squeeze Geralt's shoulder tightly.

"Thank you, darling." Geralt just rolls his eyes and clicks the tv back on.

* * * *

Jaskier never does share what idea he settled on, even after Geralt had asked, a few days later. He'd ducked his head, blushing, and told Geralt not to worry about it, it was fine, he'd get to see when it was done, and Geralt had let it go. Jaskier tends to hold his projects close to his chest until he's done with them anyway. It’s not personal.

They're seated at a cafe waiting for Yen to drop off Ciri for their afternoon trip to the zoo and Jaskier is, predicably, fiddling with his camera.

"Do you have to bring that everywhere?" he asks, tone light and teasing, and Jaskier only sticks his tongue out at him.

"Yes, you oaf, I do. I'm working," he snips, and then he lifts the camera and in a quick movement snaps a picture of Geralt's face.

"Jaskier."

"Just a test photo, love," he grins, not at all apologetic. Before Geralt can pitch anything close to a fit about Jaskier taking more photos of him (and out in public, no less), Yen and Ciri are stepping through the door. Ciri gives a delighted little shriek the way only children under five seem to do and throws herself at her father. Geralt catches her around the waist and hauls her into his lap, both of them laughing, and the photo is promptly forgotten about after that.

* * * *

"Can I come with you?"

"Why?" Geralt asks again, frowning at Jaskier where he stands next to their couch, shifting nervously with his camera clutched to his chest, "you don't like the barn."

"No, but I like Roach," he insists, "and I want to get some pictures of her. I haven't in a while." Geralt narrows his eyes.

"Is this about your project?" he asks, and the way Jaskier splutters is answer enough.

"Can't I just want to take nice photos of my best friend's lovely horse? Come on Geralt, I don't always have a reason." The color high on his cheeks says otherwise.

"Hm." He hefts his supply bag over his shoulder, "come on, then."

Jaskier practically beams the entire trip to the barn, even after he nearly slips in a spot of mud when they get there. His pure, simple joy is infectious, leaves Geralt grinning right alongside him. And if Jaskier takes pictures of him the entire time? Well, he's always taking pictures anyway.

* * * *

"Jask, my guy, must you always bring that stupid camera?" Lambert asks, "it's beer night," he says, as if beer should preclude Jaskier taking pictures.

"Yes, and? Your point?" He raises the camera to snap a blatant picture of Lambert. Aiden leans over to throw up a pair of bunny ears behind his boyfriend as if they're primary schoolers. Eskel laughs.

"Jaskier's exhibition's coming up, leave off," Geralt growls, reprimanding, and Jaskier grins all the brighter.

"Yes, thank you, darling!"

"Doesn't mean he needs to take pictures of us," Lambert grouches, but Aiden wraps his arm around his neck and pulls him into a gentle headlock.

"Be nice," Aiden admonishes, and Lambert grumbles, but subsides. After enough alcohol, no one really thinks about Jaskier's pictures.

* * * *

Catching Jaskier around their apartment snapping photos isn't strictly unusual. It's not even strictly unusual for Jaskier to be snapping photos of him, but--

"Must you take pictures while I'm trying to meditate?"

"Yeah," Jaskier answers, sunny and quick. Geralt gives a huff. The camera clicks again. "Just pretend I'm not here." Geralt hums an affirmative even though he knows it's an impossible task. He could never forget Jaskier was in a room with him.

* * * *

"Didn't know you were picking me up today," Geralt says, wandering over from his post by the medieval art exhibit to where Jaskier stands near the circulation desk, fiddling with his camera.

"Oh, well, you know," he grins brightly up at him, cheeks a little pink--maybe he's getting sick, "I was in the area and thought we could walk home together. I know you’ve got a little still but I can swing by Starbucks; I'll get you that fruity tea you like."

"Hm."

When he gets off his shift forty-five minutes later, Jaskier's waiting for him out front with the Starbucks already in hand, a radiant smile on his face, and Geralt’s chest clenches just looking at him.

* * * *

"Hey, so I know you're busy--" Jaskier starts over dinner one night, eyes focused down on his pasta, "and I don't know if you wanted to come or not, but the exhibition's next week and I--" he sneaks a glance up at Geralt from under his eyelashes, ducks his head, "--I'd like for you to be there."

Geralt can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, can't help the way affection swells in his chest. "Of course I'll go, Jask." It really is as simple as that.

* * * *

Geralt arrives in the midst of the opening hubbub. He knows Jaskier has to linger around his exhibit for at least the first hour or so and from what he understands it's tucked away somewhere toward the back, so Geralt takes a leisurely path in that general direction, stopping to look at the work Jaskier's classmates have done as he goes.

"Oh, Geralt!" Valdo's grinning as he waves him over and reluctantly he lets himself be lured in. "Good to see you here, my man. Jaskier's been a basketcase all day," he winks. Geralt rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure. Your work's good," he says, nodding back towards the row of photos behind them, all different instruments either alone or being played, the close up of hands on strings and keys.

"Don't let Jask hear you say that," he laughs, even as he preens at the praise. "And don't let him catch you over here, either. He'll be accusing infidelity in a heartbeat." Valdo winks again. Geralt doesn't even go to the effort of correcting the fact they're not together. Valdo never seems to remember anyway.

"Yeah. Have a good night, Valdo," he says before ducking out of the way of a shorter blonde woman who throws herself past him and into Valdo's arms, proclaiming her love for him and his photography. Another blonde follows behind her friend, smiling. Geralt hurries away before Priscilla and Essi can realize who Valdo had been talking to and rope him back into the conversation.

It's not that he dislikes Jaskier's friends it's just...they seem to assume things about the two of them. Yes, Geralt loves Jaskier, but Jaskier…he doesn’t know what Jaskier feels for him beyond a deep friendship.

He wanders a bit while he tries not to think about that, stopping to look at some of the other photos--landscapes, pets, significant others, children--until he spots Jaskier, all done up in the suit he'd picked out for the occasion months ago, the gold tie that Geralt had done for him this morning a beautiful contrast to the baby blue of his suit. And the pictures--

Geralt's breath catches. They're all of him; a photo of Geralt and Ciri from the zoo, Ciri seated on his shoulders, one tiny fist in his hair as she gestures wildly at the monkeys. Geralt astride Roach as he puts her through her paces at the barn, and later, Roach out in the pasture, Geralt leading her in a gentle cool down, the both of them in profile. Geralt and his brothers over beers, Geralt grinning, Eskel telling a story, hands spread wide, Lambert and Aiden leaning on each other across the table, smiles indulgent. Geralt meditating in their living room, the ghost of a smile on his face. Geralt at the museum, explaining the history of medieval art to a gaggle of tourists.

They're all him.

"Oh, thank fuck, Geralt, I--" Jaskier breaks off as he gets closer, takes in Geralt's expression, "Geralt?"

His mouth is dry and he has to clear his throat twice before he can get any words to work. "They're all of...me?" Jaskier flushes immediately.

"Well I mean--yes? I wanted it to be something important and personal and, uh, what's more personal than everything my best friend loves?" he explains rapidly, as if he's worried Geralt will cut him off, not let him explain.

"Oh," he says, because it's the only thing he can get out. And then as it dawns on him, "wait, if this is about--" he has to clear his throat again, uncharacteristically embarrassed, "--about what I love...why aren't you in any of them?"

"What, I--" Jaskier chokes off, that flush going a little darker, "I, I didn't--we weren't allowed to be the subjects of our own photos," he lies, and Geralt just raises a brow. He's seen his classmate's work--he knows it's a bullshit answer and Jaskier knows he knows.

"I didn't want to presume," he mumbles, then, a little firmer, "and it would have had to been staged. "I don't--staged photos are terrible, Geralt, you know how I feel about that." He does, but it doesn't change the fact Jaskier's collection is incomplete without him.

"Hm."

* * * *

He thinks about it for the rest of the exhibition and once he starts, it's like he can't stop. Jaskier has a collection of photos of things Geralt loves, and Jaskier's not in any of them.

It takes him almost a week to set it right.

"Geralt," Jaskier calls as the front door clicks open, Jaskier home from class. "Geralt darling, I'm famished, what--" he cuts off abruptly when he steps into the living room, gaze catching on the camera set on the tripod set up on the coffee table. Geralt stands in front of the lens, between the camera and the large bay window overlooking the distant park.

"Jaskier." Geralt's a little bit of a nervous wreck about it, but it's fine. Probably. After all, Jaskier spent months taking photos of Geralt and the things he loved. What's one more?

"Geralt, what--"

"Come here." Jaskier swallows roughly, adams apple bobbing, before he puts his bag down and steps up beside him. "Check the camera," Geralt says softly, "make sure I did it right."

Jaskier does, quick. "It's set on the ten second timer. Should I--?"

"Yeah," he says, stomach clenching in some horrible mix of fear and anticipation, "and come here."

"Geralt, if you'd wanted to take a picture together, I could have--" he says, setting the camera and starting over. He cuts off abruptly when Geralt loops an arm around his waist and tugs him in close until they're chest to chest, his other hand at Jaskier's jaw, thumb sweeping back and forth across his cheek.

"I know," he says, voice pitched low, "but you're missing a picture." And then he dips his head and kisses him.

Jaskier makes a small, wounded noise and then his arms are around Geralt's neck, fingers tight in his hair as he presses up into Geralt's grip, surges against him. Geralt cups his jaw and nips at his lower lip, revels in the quiet gasp that leaves Jaskier open for him to lick into his mouth, deepen the kiss. Distantly he's aware of the camera going off, but it's inconsequential to the way Jaskier feels in his arms.

The kiss only breaks when Jaskier pulls away to hide his face in Geralt's throat, gasping for air. Geralt chuckles, a little breathless.

"Now I'm not complaining," Jaskier says, sounding a little dazed, "but what did I do to deserve that? Because I'd like to keep doing it. Repeatedly, if possible." Geralt laughs.

"You were missing a picture," Geralt says again, and the look on Jaskier's face when he pulls back is so confused it makes his chest constrict. "The things I love," Geralt reminds, and Jaskier flushes bright red.

"Geralt--" he stammers out, flustered, before he returns to hiding his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Melitele help me," He presses his lips to the fabric of Geralt's shirt, a warm, fleeting pressure, "you really are going to be the death of me."

"Don't see how," he hums, tips his head to rest his cheek against Jaskier's head.

"Thought you wanted a friendly picture and then you just--! You just wrapped your arm around my waist like you've done it a hundred times before and I thought, oh, he's going to pretend to kiss me, for the photo, because of course you would and you, you just--" he makes a tiny, outraged noise. Geralt chuckles again. "Don't laugh at me, Geralt, I almost died."

"Mmhm," he rubs his cheek where it rests, mussing Jaskier's hair. Jaskier just huffs. "How'd the picture come out?"

Reluctantly, Jaskier peels himself away to check the photo, and Geralt can already tell from the face he's making it didn't come out well. "You moved," Jaskier admonishes, eyes glued to the tiny viewer. He fiddles with a few settings before putting it back down on the tripod. "Alright," he presses his way back into Geralt's arms, "we'll just have to try again."

"Yeah," Geralt grins, and he kisses him again.

#witcher #witcher fic #geraskier #lizard writes #rating: teen #reader reviews #Anonymous

167 notes · View notes

obeiii-mee · 4 years

Note

Hi there! If its okay, could i ask for headcannons of the brothers finding out MC is an Artist? Something like, finding there sketchbook or napkins w doodles on them jfjdjs Or maybe they catch MC glancing at them alot while trying to draw them? hfjd Ty!! Your writing is really good~

Of course it’s OK! I’ve always liked the idea of MC having a really interesting hobby and teaching the brothers about it. I feel like all the brothers would be very supportive of them, even if they all had various reactions to their hobby but I really love writing wholesome moments like that. Sorry this took longer to come out, I made them really long to make up for it!

Also thank you. Your compliment means a lot :)

————————————-

The Brothers’ reactions to MC being an artist:

Lucifer:

-Well if you’re going to glance at him every two minutes, he’s bound to notice

-I mean, you’re pretty damn obvious

-Lucifer got pretty used to you whipping out your sketchbook whenever you could

-So for you to start doodling in his office while he worked wasn’t exactly unheard of

-He caught you staring at him before looking back down at your drawing, continuing your series of furious scribbles

-Now you piqued his interest

-“You seem very focused there love. What are you drawing?”

-Scared the crap out of you because he rarely ever talks when he’s working

-You were reluctant to show him but Lucifer has his insisting face on

-When you passed him the sketchbook, he momentarily froze

-Your drawing was so detailed and full of emotion, capturing him slumped over his desk, exhausted but determined to finish the work he’s been assigned

-He was so surprised and stunned, for a second, he forgot to breathe

-“It’s not exactly one of my best drawings yet but-“

-“You never fail to impress me MC.”

-He suspected you were drawing him but he wasn’t expecting this much effort to be put into it

-He would definitely keep all your drawings of him

-Loves all your work but secretly adores your sketches of him best

-Lucifer would occasionally look over your shoulder while you sketch, taking a peek at what you’re drawing and smile to himself

-He’s never felt this much pride for someone else before

Mammon:

-Was pissed you would rather spend time with an object rather than him

-It annoyed him at first because he couldn’t tell if you were listening to him or not while you had your nose stuck in your sketchbook

-Basically, he was jealous of a sketchbook

-You can’t do that Mammon, that’s Levi’s thing

-So one day he decided to see what the fuck was so great about that giant notebook you always have with you

-He turned your entire room upside down searching for the damn thing before finding it

-He flipped through it and I’m sure the entire House of Lamentation could hear his gasp

-You drew him for pages and pages in all sorts of positions and styles and he was a flustered tomato going through them

-You willingly drew him? The scum of a demon who could never do anything right unless it involved money? You put your time and effort into these sketches and doodles despite him being condescending and a dick at times?

-Excuse me but this man is already head over heels in love with you, you can’t keep giving him reasons to fall for you

-He was so engrossed into your work that he didn’t notice you behind him

-“Mammon why is there a mess in my room-“

-“HOLY SHI-AHHH!!!”

-Too embarrassed to even think of an excuse for going through your shit

-“Ah those...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drawn you without your permission Mammon-“

-“Are ya kiddin’ me? MC, I feel insulted that you didn’t tell me about this sooner. Can...Can I keep some of ‘em??”

-Now he insists that you draw him as often as possible and would even pose for you (he loves the attention let’s be real)

-He wants to see all of your drawings and will endlessly support you

-Thought about using your skill as a way to make money because art can be very expensive

-But in the end, he dropped the idea

-Why would he sell something so precious to him??

Levi:

-He probably has a sketchbook too

-You guys draw Ruri-chan together in your own styles

-Levi always insists that you’re much better at drawing than him tho

-Your talent makes him a little jealous but at the same time he’s fascinated

-Was so surprised when he found out you were into sketching

-Levi was even more surprised when you showed him all the drawings you’ve worked on for your favourite anime and video game characters

-OK but how come you’re so perfect? Not only are you a lovely person that is willing to watch anime with him without insulting his opinions but you can draw? W...h...a...t...?

-He requests several sketches of ‘The Tale of the Seven Lords’ characters and will actually tape them to his wall

-Some of them are right on his Ruri-chan shelf

-“Hey normie, do you...do you mind teaching me how to draw? I want to learn.”

-Is 100% determined to learn how to properly sketch from you

-You started drawing him as well, usually while he games

-You better stop, he’ll have a nosebleed if you keep being so nice to him!

-Draw him as an anime character and he will start fangirling

-“Phew. OK I’m finished.”

-“What did you draw?”

-“Hentai.”

-“This. Is. A. Masterpiece.”

-Will proudly show your work to his brothers (usually the same drawing more than five times)

-What did an otaku like him do to deserve you??

Satan:

-He found out you were an artist fairly quickly

-I meant he found tissues with doodles you left behind everywhere

-He kept all of them

-It was so refreshing for him to see you so invested in your drawings the same way he is in his reading

-You’re still under the impression you’re being sneaky by drawing him while he has his nose in his books

-You ended up finally gathering enough courage to show him one of your portraits of him

-He had a reaction similar to Lucifer’s really

-Praise!

-He made your drawing into a bookmark

-Idk how but he did

-You leave him a few doodles of you and him being all lovey dovey and he absolutely adores them

-Will lose his marbles if anyone says anything remotely negative about your style or talent

-Draw him fluffy animals pls he will literally have them framed and fixed up in his room

-Also if you draw any of his brothers (specifically Lucifer let’s be real) in a silly way he will actually start snorting with laughter

-You sketch him pretty damn often and he can’t really complain

-It’s really peaceful when you two are in the library and you’re working on your doodling while he reads aloud to you

-Buys you equipment like pens and pencils and even sketchbooks when he knows you’re running out

-He’s really delighted when you come over to show him your drawings

-Once he caught you staring at a cat as you started sketching it

-He actually didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much

Asmo:

-Noisy little fucker that he is and in need of drama, he looked through your sketchbook

-Thought it was a diary at first but nope

-Imagine his surprise when he found pages upon pages of drawings of his brothers and him

-Except his weren’t really a surprise

-He’s gorgeous of course you would want to draw him

-But oh my God, do you realise how much he values art??

-I know he looks as if he only thinks about sex but he definitely has a thing for creativity and art like painting and photography

-“MC darliiiing~? Why didn’t you tell me you can draw?”

-He actually shrieks at how well you’ve captured his beauty

-He insists that they look like actual pictures of him

-Takes several pictures of all of them and posts them on DevilGram

-A bit salty when you drawing anything else but him

-However, he can’t deny that you’re one of the most talented individuals he ever met

-He comes up to you every day and lractically begs you to draw him

-One time you came in your room to find him naked and asking you to draw him

-Is actually kinda good at drawing himself

-Specifically people

-He has enough experience exploring the human body so he surprisingly enough, knows a thing or two when it comes to body proportions

-“MC draw me like one of your french girls~”

-I’m sorry I had to do that

-He also likes the attention he’s getting when he poses for you

-He may think he’s the most beautiful being in all three realms but he definitely thinks you’re the second

-So he often offers to draw you too

-He likes having cozy chats with you while you draw

Beel:

-You left your sketchbook behind in the kitchen with him

-Mammon needed your assistance to get down from where Lucifer hanged him after one of his failed money schemes

-He knocked a glass of milk nearby it and had a panic attack for a minute

-Legitimately thought he ruined the whole thing

-Was actually about ready to cry because he knew how important your sketchbook was to you

-Looked through it just to make sure there were no splotches or anything

-To say he was relieved when he realised it was fine would be an understatement

-He was kinda drawn to your sketches, most of them carefully drawn and expressive, even some of the ones you scribbled out

-One specific drawing caught his eye though

-You drew him and Belphie together, with his twin brother’s head resting on his shoulder while Beel ate

-He was mesmerised by your talent and by your thoughtfulness

-Beel felt bad about it but he kept looking through your sketches, enchanted by everything in it

-You drew him and his brothers several times

-It’s safe to say the discovery of your drawings brightened his day

-Gave back your sketchbook later

-He apologised for going through it without your permission more than he needed to

-You had to accept his apology because he looked like a kicked puppy

-Feels very honoured whenever you let him look at your work

-Is more than happy to pose for you!

-But that might be a bit of a problem seeing as he tends to move around a lot

-“Whoa, that looks just like me! The food I’m eating looks really realistic too...which is making me hungry. Let’s go to Hell’s Kitchen, you can finish this there!”

-Supportive bean

-You gave him a family sketch of him and all of his brothers once

-Normally, he only likes gifts he can eat

-But he treasures that drawing more than food at times

-“This...this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me! Thank you MC! But uh, someone’s missing in this drawing.”

-“Ah shit, who did I miss?”

-“You.”

-If anything ever happens to Beel or his happiness I swear to Lord Diavolo-

Belphie:

-OK but you left your notebook just sitting there right next to him???

-How do you expect him not to look through it?

-Belphie doesn’t care much for privacy

-And he doesn’t exactly have morals either

-He didn’t even know you were into drawing

-Which to be fair, wasn’t scandalous considering he sleeps 20 hours a day

-But he wants to be more involved in your interests so that’s why he took initiative with your sketchbook

-Idk what he was expecting but definitely not a sketch of him staring back at him

-His heart skipped a beat but I don’t even know if demons have hearts

-The cheeky little shit took pictures and may or may not have made on your drawings of him his wallpaper

-Most of the drawings were of him sleeping, surprising...absolutely no one

-“So that’s what you’re up to whenever I go to sleep huh? So cute~”

-But besides all that, he is really touched

-I mean, if there’s anyone undeserving of your love and respect is the piece of shit of who tried to kill you

-Yet here you are, continuously showering him with affection and now this

-Probably spent hours looking at your sketchbook while you were at R.A.D

-Didn’t say anything to you when you came back except handing your notebook back to you

-Though he was less of a smartass and more affectionate for the rest of the day

-Next morning, you took the liberty of waking up before him and sketching him again

-He grabbed your arm halfway through your doodling and grinned at you from under the covers

-“Drawing me again huh? You won’t mind me doing this while you’re at it then right?”

-Now he’s sleeping in your lap

-Whenever you show him your work, he makes a small approving noise but he’s seriously impressed

-Draw Lucifer or Lord Diavolo in any offensive manner and he will actually start giggling

-Gets all huffy puffy when you draw his brothers instead of him (we all know Beel is the exception)

-I may have a thing for Belphegour

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #☂️ demon brothers #🕯 general

573 notes · View notes

robin-the-enby · 3 years

Note

Hey! I love your matchups and I really want one with on the black butler characters.

I am ISTJ and even though I was born in America I come from a Mexican family. So I am fluent in Spanish and English. Along side of Mandarin Chinese (still learning) and Japanese (still learning)

Appearance wise, I have olive skin, long wavy/curly hair that reaches my tailbone (i like putting it in side braid). I also have long bangs that quite often fall over my glasses. And just too lazy to move them. I also have dimples when I smile. I will bite anyone who try poke them.

Personality: I can get hard to know at first because I have trust issues (my heart has been broken okay) . Not too mention people don't try to get know me because of my major Resting Bitch Face. They think I am judging them or that I am scary. But I am not... I am attentive so I will stand up for myself and anyones else. I am patient. Also, after you get to know me you will realize I am a chaotic crackhead with a melodramatic persona. Like "your star is here!" "The stage is calling for me. Move out of my way" "the spotlight is on me so could you move you crusty face?" I like to tease and flirt with the people I am close to. I zone out or daydream a lot. And in the worst times. It could be a serious meeting and I am chuckling because of something in my head. Which have scared people. It could be during a conversation and I will stop listening. But I will always feel bad and apologize.

I also like to scare people. Like tell them the unsolved cases or horrific cases that I know (I love unsolved cases) . This is also why my little siblings hate me. Turns out talking kids murder cases and disapperinv cases was not appropriate for bed time story... woops.....

I like to pop out of nowhere and either flick or playfully punch my friends and say boo. I do accidentally roast people. I don't think before I say things. And don't realize until hours or days later. And I am like "shit"

I am sarcastic and that has gotten me in trouble before. My friend asked for my advice and I didn't know she was being serious. So I gave her a sarcastic advice and she came back to me mad. I was like "shit you believed me?"

Likes/hobbies: i like my anatomy class and I like to read, write, meditate (because I get stressed a lot). I really like to dance and listen to music. Which my music taste is everywhere: Kpop, classical music, jazz, jpop, Spanish songs, rock, metal. Every music genre except for country. I like to play the violin.

My passion lies in the arts and crafts. I would like to do illustration and photography. More specifically street fashion photography and and event photography. Like weddings and funerals. Yes funeral photography does exist and I will like to do it. Since it is also special event. I draw a lot of portraits and landscapes. I have been told that my art is either scary or mysterious. Though I can get a little caught up with my passion. I practice to get better with no rest.

Flaws/toxic traits: I am not empathetic or sympathetic. People always thought I didn't care about my friend's issues. I do i just don't understand them. My compassion does make up for this and will give advice. My other flaw, is the high walls I build to protect myself. I am there for other people. But people were never there for me. People have manupliated me and that cause me trust issues. I don't know how to handle negative emotions like depression, anxiety, self doubt, procrastination. So I just isolate myself in these moods. They really take a toll on me and make me think I can't do my passions. I am afraid of commitment because of toxic relationships i had before.

Love language: I am not obvious with affection. (Because no one ever gave me it). I show it through my teasing and flirting. My love language is however Act of Service. I will help my s/o with anything they need. Chores, work, advice, etc. Sort of the mom of my friend group. But a Savage mom as I have been told. "Stop crying, here I made you a cookie" "do I need to hurt someone" "don't worry I can get coffin with a lock in it". I am also an aggressive supporter. Like "No YOU are beautiful. YOU are gorgeous!" (This happened when someone gives me affection and time try to turn the attention to them as way to hide my fluster)

I will call my s/o like "stupid" "idiot" but in a endearing way. Okay. Occasionally I will use "beloved" and "Cariño/cariña"

I am not good receiving verbal affection or physical affection. I was never given affection so I am not used to it. I will start blushing and stop working. I will also probably say "idiot" or turn the attention to them like "no.. u" but I think fails because I am terrible at hiding my blush. I get easily flustered with affection okay. But I won't ever admit that I like it. Though it is obvious.

Sexuality: i am bisexual so it doesn't matter what gender I am paired up with.

Funt fact i guess?: I love small plants, plushies, and banana milk. Like I have hundreds of different kinds of plants and they each have their own name. Like GGmo, Lily, Melody, Edward. I love Banana milk as I said. I drink it every evening. It always get me happy so when I am sad or had a bad day. I drink banana milk and I am happy. It is also to make up for my coffee addiction. I am addicted to coffee. My friends said no coffee and I was like fine banana milk then :)

This is getting long now... bye.

I'm glad that you like my matchups, I'm trying my best tbh😅 I match you with:

Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian is very curious in nature, so he definitely wants to know what you're really like, not the front you put on.

He's also very charming when he wants to, he makes it very easy to open up to him and get comfortable around him.

Sure, he, as a demon, doesn't really care much for humans, so when he doesn't have to play the polite, kind butler, he probably has a RBF as well, however, I think that changes when he's interacting with someone he loves.

His sweet words may have been a mask at first, so he could see the real you, but the closer you two become, the more he means every word of praise, encouragment or comfort he utters.

He would most certainly be amused by your crackhead self once you do get comfortable around him, but it's not really his vibe. He wouldn't scold you for being loud, brash or inapropriate, like he does the other servants.

If he's in a really good mood or when the situation calls for it, he can be dramatic as well. Sometimes he'd do it just to get on Ciel's nerves XD

One big pro of being with Sebastian is that he lets you off the hook a lot. If he was talking to anyone else and they'd space out, oh honey, he would stare them down so hard, it's sending chills down my spine just thinking about it. But if it's you it's like a complete 180, Sebastian can't possibly be mad at you, everyone spaces out sometimes, those things just happen.

The other servants make sure to be on your good side so that you could intercede with him on their behalf.

You can't scare him with your true crime stories, but you sure as hell can scare the others. And you can bet your ass Seb's gonna help! The plan is: You tell the story and then he's gonna pop up out of nowhere behind them, giving them mini heart attacks.

If you try to scare him though, you'll need to be on guard 24/7 until he gets you in return. And even if your on guard all the time, he finds a way to scare the life out of you.

Your humor is practically the same, I mean, Sebastian is great at off handed remarks/roasts and sarcastic comments that you have to look for to really see them. You two could be talking shit about anyone and everybody would be like "Oh yeah, normal conversation, yes"

Sebastian would love to dance with you. And trust me when I say this, he is good at any type of dance. If you two are ever at a ball, prepare your feet, because he's not gonna let go of you the whole night (unless his master is in danger of course).

He would be your #1 supporter, he'd go with you out to take photos, and if you asked him to look at some, he'd take a good long look at each and every one of them and describe in detail how he feels about them. Also would go to any art shows you'd host if it came to it.

When it comes to sympathy and empathy, Sebastian also has a hard time showing these feelings. He's been alive for far longer than any human on Earth and he's a demon. He's never had any of the problems humans have, so naturally he doesn't kniw what it feels like to have them. Plus, before you came into his life, he didn't care much for them either.

However, he's gonna be there for you whenever you need him, emotionally or practically, even though he doesn't get your feelings.

You both have walls put up, you because of bad past experiences, him because as a demon, he has major issues with being vulnerable in any way. And I'm not talking just emotionally here, but demons are almost undestroyable, yet they have very few weaknesses that they just need to hide away.

It's rare Sebastian has a problem, but even if he had, you wouldn't know, because he thinks you, as a human, wouldn't understand and so he won't burden your mind with it. However, he's very perceptive and so if your behaviour changes, be it due to anxiety or a depressive episode, he'll know.

Now, he's not the type of person to try and break down your walls by force, but in situstions like these, where he's not sure how to help, you gotta talk to him and he won't leave you alone until you tell him how he can help.

He's not above carrying you around and doing everything for you until you're embarassed enough to tell him

He is very appreciative of your help around, since the other servants are good at everything but what they're supposed to do.

You with your tough love and Sebastian with his teeth rotting compliments and affection, it'd be honestly really funny to watch. He adores how you show affection, because it's different from most people he's known. But on the other hand, you can't expect him not to spoil you afte all the hard work you do every day?

He would really shower you in love and affection, because you deserve it and because it makes you flustered XD

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler matchups #matchups #requests open #black butler x reader #black butler x y/n #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis x y/n

20 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 4 years

Text

Almost World Animal Day, so here's a short Wolfstar dog-related fic!

Nothing but fluff and humour.

Summary:

Remus is sitting outside alone, and Lily comes to talk to him, thinking he might be upset because of his secret feelings for Sirius Black, that only Lily knows about. However, Remus is acting very weird. He really, really seems to not want to talk about it, and even seems embarrassed, while he and Lily have talked about it plenty of times. And what’s going on with that strange-acting, huge black dog, that allegedly just wandered up to Remus?

Not in front of the dog!

Remus clenches his fist around his drink, his knuckles turning white. He takes a sip from his Pumpkin Juice, but the sweet taste does nothing to counter the bitter taste in his mouth.

Gryffindor just defeated Slytherin in a trilling Quidditch match. Team captain James Potter had created a strong team, and was in great shape himself, flying perfectly in sync with his fellow Chaser Sirius Black. Really, there was something captivating about watching those two work together. The ecstatic Gryffindors had gone back to their tower singing and cheering, and were now having drinks, playing music, chatting and laughing in the common room. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, and it probably was, for everyone but Remus.

Remus glares at the other side of the room, where Sirius is standing with Benjy Fenwick, who had wanted to ‘congratulate Black on his great game’. And sure, Sirius had played a great game, and he deserves all the praise he can get, but surely, you don’t need over half an hour to say ‘Oi, Black, great game’. And also, the noise level in the room really isn’t so high that it requires Fenwick to lean in so close, with his lips almost touching Sirius’s ear, for Godric’s sake. And the hand Fenwick has placed on Sirius’s shoulder just seems unnecessary, and his other hand, resting on Sirius’s lower back, is definitely unnecessary, and has absolutely no business slowly sliding down like that!

But what’s even worse than Fenwick’s complete disregard for Sirius’s personal space, is that Sirius seems not to mind at all. And why would he? Sirius is a young, single, incredibly handsome guy, who just played the Quidditch match of his life. Why shouldn’t he be talking and laughing at a party, while boys, who are maybe kind of cute if you like the type, flirt with him?

Remus quickly adverts his eyes when Sirius’s gaze wanders over to him. What Sirius doesn’t deserve is to have this moment, his moment, spoilt by Remus acting all sulky because he was dumb enough to fall in love with a guy miles out of his league, whom he’s lucky to be even friends with. As Sirius’s trademark barking laugh echoes through the common room, because apparently Fenwick is suddenly oh so very funny, Remus has had enough. He smashes his glass down, causing Peter to look up, startled.

“I need some air,” Remus says, and before Peter can even respond, he turns around and heads towards the portrait hole. He vaguely notices Lily giving him a concerned look, before he climbs outside and is free from the crowd.

Remus ends up sitting outside on the grass underneath a tree, which is still illuminated by the last rays of sunlight, so it’s not awfully chilly yet. He tries to put all thought from his mind, but he barely has time to do that before he hears a voice.

“Oi, Moony!”

Remus looks up, although he doesn’t actually have to look to know who that voice belongs to. He sees Sirius making his way over across the field, giving Remus plenty of opportunity to stare while he approaches. Even ploughing through the grass in his dishevelled robes with his hair blowing everywhere, he still looks like a bloody model during a photoshoot.

When Sirius arrives to where Remus is sitting, he immediately flops down next to him on the grass and brushes his long, dark hair back.

“Alright, Moony? You were suddenly gone without saying anything.”

It didn’t seem like Sirius would even notice his absence, but right as Remus thinks it, he realises that it’s not true. Apparently, Sirius did immediately notice his absence, as he immediately came after him. Remus feels a surge of satisfaction as he thinks of Benjy Fenwick, who now has to find somewhere else to put his hands.

Remus manages a small smile. “You know me. I sometimes just have to get away from the crowd.”

Sirius bumps his shoulder against Remus’s. “You could’ve said something! I would’ve gone with you.”

“It’s basically your party! With you being the reason we won that match in the first place. Well, you and Prongs. You should be there enjoying the celebration, not sit out here in the damp grass with me.”

“Our party or not, Prongs and I want our best mate to enjoy himself as well!”

“I’m fine, Padfoot,” Remus reassures him. “Really, just go. You... You looked like you were really having fun.”

Sirius’s grey eyes suddenly become soft as he looks at Remus, and Remus feels like there’s a whole hoard of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“But you have that look on your face,” Sirius says. “I hate seeing that look on your face and I hate leaving you alone with that look on your face.”

Remus feels conflicted. He still feels guilty making Sirius sit here outside, while he could be doing so much more fun things. On the other hand, he can’t deny he feels secretly pleased Sirius is here with him, where Fenwick can’t place his hands where they don’t belong.

Sirius must see the conflict play out on his face, as he suddenly envelops Remus in a tight hug. In Sirius’s arms, caring and protective around him, Remus’s last hope of ever getting over his feelings flies out the door. He just has to accept that he’ll forever be hopelessly pining after Sirius, because he just has to go and be so bloody great.

When Sirius lets him go he has a grin on his face. “Maybe I should cheer you up.”

“I don’t need-” But before Remus can finish his sentence, Sirius shifts smoothly into his dog form, which still leaves Remus in awe, no matter how many times he sees it.

The dog dashes away and starts jumping, running and rolling through piles of leaves, chasing the ones that scatter through the air.

“You’re being ridiculous!” Remus shouts, but he can’t help the corners of his mouth curling upwards, and when the dog starts spinning around chasing his own tail, he lets out an actual laugh.

“Is that a dog?”

The dog freezes mid-spin and Remus whirls his head around to see Lily Evans standing a few feet away.

“Eh... I... Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Remus stammers. “He just... wandered over here, probably from someone in Hogsmeade.”

“What a big boy!” Lily walks over to the dog and starts scratching him behind his ears. “And he’s so handsome! Yes you are, aren’t you? Yes you are! You’re a handsome big boy!”

The dog, however, seems to have forgotten how to dog. He just stares at Lily with a stunned expression. Remus unceremoniously shoves the dog with his foot. The dog blinks at him, and then shakes himself out of his surprised state. He starts wagging his tail, panting and jumping up and down.

Lily chuckles and sits down next to Remus. “I came to see how you’re doing.”

Remus suddenly gets a dreadful feeling in his stomach. While James is still in the hopeless pining-phase (but really, who’s Remus to judge on that?), Remus is actually good friends with Lily. Which means Lily knows things about Remus. Many things. Too many things. Things his other friends don’t know, and aren’t suppose to ever know. Remus honestly trusts Lily with his life, but right now, he really wishes he never told her anything at all.

“I’m fine,” Remus says. “Absolutely fine. Just getting some fresh air. Lovely day today, is it not?”

“Come on, Remus,” Lily says. “You know you can be honest with me. I saw Black with Fenwick.”

The dog stops panting, and tilts his head to the side.

“Yes, they looked like they were having fun.” Remus’s voice sounds almost manic. “Good for them, right? I mean, why shouldn’t they have fun? I want them to have fun. I want them to have so much fun. Not that I care, of course. Why should I care if they’re having fun? It has absolutely nothing to do with me, and it’s absolutely completely unrelated to me sitting outside.”

In his panicked state, Remus picks up a stick and throws it away. “Fetch!” He shouts desperately at the dog.

If the dog had been physically capable of raising one eyebrow, that’s what he would’ve been doing right now. He gives Remus a look that clearly says ‘if you think I’m going to miss the rest of this conversation to retrieve a dirty piece of wood, you’re sorely mistaken’.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Rem,” Lily says. “It’s completely understandable to be upset when you see the guy you’re mad about flirt with someone else.”

Remus groans. “Lily, can we please not talk about this now?”

“Alright, alright.” Lily throws up her hands in defeat. “Just so you know, I heard there’s nothing going on between them. And Fenwick was flirting with him more than he was flirting with Fenwick, if that makes you feel any better.”

Normally it would, but staring at his knees while feeling the dog’s eyes burning on him, Remus just wants the earth to swallow him up whole.

“Even if Sirius was flirting with him, he has every right to do so!” Remus exclaims. “It’s none of my business. He doesn’t owe me anything.” Remus looks up at the dog. “I’d never want to jeopardize our friendship.”

The dog looks back at him with an unreadable expression. Or maybe that’s just Remus’s lack of experience in reading complex emotions on dogs’ faces.

Lily lets out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s a whole different outlook than last time we talked, when you were practically doodling Mr. Remus Black on your parchment! You wouldn’t stop talking about how clever and caring he is, honestly making me wonder if we were talking about the same person. And you were telling me you almost fainted when he came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel, and how you couldn’t focus on anything during Herbology, because you were standing behind Black and couldn’t stop staring at his-”

“Lily!” Remus shouts, hiding his face in his hands.

Lily sighs. “Look Remus, if he’s really so caring, he’s not going to let this ruin your friendship. I admit that I have no idea how he’ll react, but maybe you should just tell him. Then at least the cat is out of the bag!”

Remus huffs a laugh, as that really won’t be necessary anymore. This just proves that, when in the presence of a dog, all cats should be kept securely in their respective bags at all times.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Lily says as Remus stays quiet. “You’re obviously not in the mood to talk. I didn’t mean to push you.”

“It’s okay,” Remus manages to say, as it really isn’t her fault.

Lily presses a kiss against his cheek. “And let me tell you, you’re smart, witty and kind, and a much better catch than Benjy Fenwick, no offense to him.”

“Thanks, Lils.” Remus gives her a weak smile.

Lily gets up on her feet, and makes her way back to the castle.

Remus peaks through his finger, to see the dog still sitting there. He’s relieved, really. He’d rather look at the dog with some indescribable expression than see the clear emotion of... what? Pity? Fear? Shock? Amusement? On Sirius’s actual face. Right now, Remus wishes he were the Animagus, so he could turn into an animal and never turn human again. Just start a life as an animal. Preferably a bird. Yes, Remus muses. He could live a happy life as a bird.

He’s rudely interrupted in making future plans about building nests and eating worms when the dog suddenly leaps up against him.

“Oef!” Remus falls back on the grass, his hands automatically grabbing the fur. The dog has his paws on Remus’s shoulders and while lying on top of Remus with his huge body.

Before Remus has a chance to process anything, there’s a shift, and suddenly a very human Sirius is lying on top of him with his very, very human body. Sirius is practically beaming at him. He may not be a dog anymore, but Remus can practically see him wagging his tail.

Remus can’t comprehend why, after hearing about his utterly embarrassing infatuation, Sirius would respond by lying on top of him. But Remus’s fingers, that were just moments ago pressing in soft, black fur, are suddenly resting low on Sirius’s hips, and Sirius’s hands have slid into his neck and his face is really, really close, so Remus’s brain capacity is rendered to zero and he’s in no state comprehend anything. He just lies there and blinks up at Sirius.

“So,” Sirius says. “I heard a rumour.”

“Did you now?” Remus mumbles weakly.

Sirius hums. “I did. I heard that this smart, witty and kind boy is really into me. Do you reckon that could be true?”

Remus swallow, his throat suddenly dry. “What if it was?”

“Well,” Sirius says. “Then I think I’d just have to kiss him.”

“Wha-” Remus eyes grow wide and he stares at Sirius in shock. “Why... why would you do that?”

“Because I suppose I have this kind of crush on him.”

“Are you serious?” Remus regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth, and waits for the inevitable pun.

“I’m always-” Sirius stops himself and frowns. “No, actually I’m not,” he says and Remus’s stomach drops. “If I’m really being serious, I can’t call it a kind of crush. Truth is, I’m head over heels in love with him.” He leans in even closer. Remus can see a slight flush on his cheeks, and can feel his breath against his lips. “So, these rumours,” Sirius whispers. “Any truth to them?”

“Yes,” Remus says. “Yes, it’s all-”

He’s cut off by Sirius firmly pressing his lips against his. He wraps his arms around Sirius’s waist and pulls him even closer. Sirius’s hands are now cupping his face, and it’s everything.

When they stop for air, Sirius is smiling against his lips. “One more thing. You don’t get to stand behind me during Herbology anymore. I can’t risk you failing class because of me.”

Remus flushes bright red. “Shut up!”

Sirius grins. “Don’t worry, Moony mine. I’ll make sure you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to stare at my-”

Remus cuts him off with a kiss. “I hate you,” he mumbles against Sirius’s lips.

“Oh?” Sirius quirks one eyebrow. “I’ve heard rumours that say otherwise.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #padfoot #lily evans #padfoony

70 notes · View notes

hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Locked Out (Shinso x Reader)

Just a drabble I had in my head about Shinso because he deserves love and attention.

Scenario:

-You got locked out of your house and you ended up talking with your crush… who turns out to live across the street

The skies were dark and gloomy. Such an opposite to what the morning weather had to offer. Drops of rain started to mark the street you were walking in. You had only gone out for 30 minutes to buy some snacks, but nature had her ways you supposed.

Walking up the steps to your front door, you rummaged through your bag. You rummaged and rummaged and rummaged till you stomped your foot rather harshly.

“Shit.” That’s all you could say. You, who succumbed to your hunger, managed to lock yourself out of your house. Glancing at your watch, it would probably take a few more hours before your parents would arrive home.

Taking a seat on the step, you decided to take out your (favorite/snack) and munched on it. Might as well eat it now than to wait for later. Taking your phone out, you clicked open PortraitBook and scanned the posts of your friends.

Nothing new, as far as you could tell. It was the weekend so all you could see were posts of your fellow 1-A classmates. Denki was posting controversial history posts once more. Mina shared a video of one of her favorite dancers. Kiri went on a long rant on a particular post that had bad mouthed his idol.

Scrolling a little further, you stumbled upon Deku’s Portrait profile. A smile tugged the corner of your lips. He was gushing his thoughts out on a particular post that praised All Might. Though, he’s no stranger to that by now. His profile was practically All Might this and that.

Suddenly, your eyes darted to a list of people the app suggested you add. The familiar pop of purple caught your eye causing your heart rate to fluctuate. Below his profile picture, your mind read his name.

Hitoshi Shinso.

Ever since the UA Sports Festival, this purple boy has caught your attention. So much to the point where you were practically cheering for him. That action caught the attention of your classmates and a few snickers on the side when they caught on.

The match was short lived but you were indeed mesmerized at his quirk. For you, it was silent but deadly. The moment the match was over, your mind went full Deku mode as to why he was in the General Studies department.

Yaomomo, your best friend, giggled at how a single fight from this boy caused you to gawk over him

“He’s in 1-C. Not too far from our classroom.” You recalled her telling you that. “Weren’t you there when he popped up outside our classroom?”

You did hear about that. How he went to your classroom and wanted to get a glimpse of who the 1-A people were. But, oh how timingly, you were busy reading a book and you barely gave a damn as to what ruckus happened. From where you were sitting, you couldn’t see the crowd. It was only the noise that gave them away and Bakugo’s rant.

Your thumb hovered over his profile. It is a public domain so a little peep at his profile wouldn't be too bad right? Clicking it, you saw the header of his profile. It was a cute cat. He likes cats. Perfect. You lingered on his profile picture. This was as close as you could ever get to him. A picture.

Scrolling downwards, you came to the conclusion that he barely used social media. Aside from the occasional cat videos or Pro-Hero videos, there were no pictures you could feast your internet FBI eyes on. Closing the app, you stood up to throw your garbage.

Right after you closed the lid on the bin, your eyes widened.

Your crush. Sitting on the gutter, ruffling his hair. Your mind went haywire trying to figure out if you should approach him or not. Or how he had been your neighbor and you didn’t even realize it. To make things even worse, the moment he lifted his head, his purple eyes met yours. Confusion and shock written on them as well.

Giving him a small wave he waved back and stood up.

Your eyes following his ever move as he crossed the street.

Sweet lords he was right in front of you.

“Hi.” Your voice was barely audible but you were sure he heard it when he greeted you back.

“You live here?” Shinso asks. “You’re (L/N), right?”

“Yeah. But I got locked out so I guess that makes me a stranger to my own house.” You gave an embarrassed laugh. The purple haired boy seemed to chuckle at your remark. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I got locked out too, actually.”

That itself caused you to giggle.

“I would offer you snacks but I finished all my snacks.”

“It’s fine.”

“You wanna kill some time together?” You offered while pointing to the steps towards your house. When he agreed, you couldn’t help but smile since he accepted your invitation. Ushering you to go first, you lead him towards your house.

Taking a seat beside each other, you decided to initiate the conversation.

“You’re quirk is Brainwashing, right?” You began fidgeting with your fingers.

“Yeah. Hard to forget?”

“In a way. It’s pretty awesome~ It would really surprise the villains knowing they don’t know what’s in store for them!” The enthusiasm in your voice caused his pale cheeks to turn a little pink.

“It’s not as flashy as yours, though.” He commented. “I still remember how you put up a match with Tokoyami. You were pretty awesome yourself.”

“Not as awesome as your hair. Does it always stand like that?” You pointed to his hair. Now that he was closer, you saw just how it was a chaotic mess. The strands were everywhere but almost as if they were meant to be like that.

“Yeah. Dunno why though.” Shinso answered while tugging on some of his strands. A small smile graced his lips at your question. “A-are your eyes always that pretty?”

Slightly taken aback by his statement, you felt your cheeks heat up. Biting your lip, all you could do was to suppress the butterflies in your tummy. Two can definitely play that game.

“Only when you're in front of me.” Seeing Shinso chuckle was enough to get you through the week.

His attention was cut when he looked over at his house and found his parents car now being parked. Turning back to you, he saw how there was a tad bit of disappointment showing in your eyes.

"Looks like your parents are home…" Trying your best to sound normal. "It was nice talking to you, Shinso."

The boy was silent for a while. Almost as if he were weighing his options.

"I can stay a little longer, if you want."

Once again, Shinso's stomach felt all ticklish when he saw your happiness. If he were to be honest, ever since the Sports Festival, he too had been stealing glances at you. When he saw you right across the street, his mind began to process that things would be easier now.

A little more conversation happened. Mostly about random topics. The time came when you got a message from your parents saying they would be home in 5 minutes.

"I guess it's safe to say you can go home now, Shinso. The key to my house is approaching."

Both of you stood up ready to bid each other farewell.

"Would it be… bad if I asked for your number?"

His purple eyes widened with shock for a fraction of a second. Rubbing the back of his neck once more, he took his phone from his pocket and gave it to you. His eyes focused on your pretty features while you sent yourself a message.

Giving him his phone back, he thanked you and gave his farewell. Waving before he turned around and made his way back to his house.

Not a moment too soon, your parents finally arrived and unlocked the doors. A few jokes were exchanged at just how clumsy you were.

Just as you closed the door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You had a feeling you knew who it was but you didn't want to expect anything. Taking your phone out, it was the same unknown number you had sent yourself a message with.

"Walk to school with me tomorrow? -Shinso"

With red cheeks and a fluttering heart, you immediately typed in your response.

"Gladly! :) "

#shinso hitoshi #mha shinsou #mha shinso hitoshi #shinso #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou imagine #shinsou fluff #bnha hitoshi #hitoshi #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso imagine #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha x reader

229 notes · View notes

wasabi-mommy · 3 years

Text

Wasted Talent ( DIO X FEM FEADER)

Lurking the Streets of Cairo is an interesting man, but his so called interest lies in you and the portraits you paint.

(Warnings: uh none, I'm too lazy to proofread deal with it)

Another day and nothing. Not even a single tourist would give you the time of day- or even night for that matter. Now the sun had long set and a full moon and subtle street lights were the only luminescence casting a faint glow on the cobble stone path below your feet. It was disheartening to say he least. Ever since your parents had past, the only way to get by or at least make a living in the city you found yourself glued to... was by selling your art, painted pottery and canvases.

Although, for most of the tourist that came to the luxury that was Cairo, their interests fall into jewelry and tapestries.

Some of your paintings where of the locals, wildlife, or scenery. Locals would praise you; "you're an amazing artisan!" "A gift has been granted to you dear!" "This is breath taking!" And of course your heart couldn't bring yourself to charge the people you knew in the town you lived all you life (stuck) in.. so you would let them have it, barter,or make them pay 1/3rd the price.

"Makes me wonder why I even try..." you mumbled loading up another canvas into your small caravan. Another day and nothing, not even enough for a loaf of bread. You stared blankly at the 2 egyptian pounds sitting inside your change box.

In the shadows his amber orbs glistened.

He watched your routine for a while now. 2 weeks , to be precise... at first he wanted nothing but a quick meal, and you were a perfect target. Alone at 11 o clock at night, in an empty market place that by this time was completely abandoned. He caught you painting that night. As you stepped away from your creation he felt an odd feeling wash over him. A peak, an interest, a desire. A desire to see more of what you may create. The beauty that was the texture, the blending... and it wasn't even the foreground but a beautiful gradient background...for what. Dio must know.

Soon enough Dio made you and your art gallery one of his normal stops while he casually strolled the quiet streets of the Egyptian city. He wondered how you got by most of the time selling such works, not that he would care.. you were another human the only difference is that you seemed to be more fluent in how you were able to depict images on to a surface, atleast deep down that's what he told himself. It brought him to the memories of when he himself lived in a similar type of poverty over a century ago.

You felt a cold chill brush over your shoulder and instantly the hairs of neck stand up.

"Alone at such an hour.."

"Eek!" You jumped dropping the small pot you were carrying. The pieces shattered, small bits of clay spreading everywhere.

Dio chuckled deeply walking out from the shadows. " now, now, that is not a proper way to greet a customer" his voice rang through your ears, sultry and smooth. You reluctantly turn you heard over your shoulde to see a man. A man who is atleast a foot taller than you, blonde hair that seemed to dery gravity and His eyes could've been shining as they stared down at your small form.

"Y-you want to buy my- my art?" You stumble over your words in disbelief as you pick up the pieces of clay pot that had fallen to pieces.

The man's chuckled was deep... almost belittling at the very sound.

"You have talent, do you not?"

You furrowed your brow in question, was this some sort of test?

"Uh.. I mean I guess.. I'm sorry I usually don't get a lot of customers-"

"How shameful must that be," Dios eyes found the painting..the one that had caught his eye the moment he was about to drain her of all her essence. A subtle portrait of a woman, surprisingly much resembling his mother.

".. that people haven't an eye for your talents" he muttered, impolite pushing his way past your dumbstruck form.

Dio reached out, letting the dark nail of his index finger trace the frame of the decently sized canvas. He felt a warm within his very being, by just looking at the portrait of the woman.

You were speechless. One because was kind of rude and two.. This man, this attractive man, was actually admiring your art! Sweat, a nervous sweat broke on your forehead as he leaned closely. You have no idea, did he like it? Why is he so close? He's not going to grab and run i hope!!!

These thoughts were soon trampled by the man's form looming over your own. You flinched and held in any noise that could've been made.

"You talents are wasted on tasteless buffoons my lady, remember that" his eyes drifted from you to the painting.

"But.. all I have is this city" you said softly in your defense. That amused him, a mere human speaking politely back at him..

Dio scoffed, " You waste the talent you're gifted, I know a place my dear.. where your art can be viewed by the masses"

You felt the heat rush to your face. Could this man be your ticket out of this hellhole?! Suddenly a heavy weight dawned on you. Friends.. the locals.. and of course the money..

"Thankyou sir.. you see i have not the money to travel. I must stay, but one day I will leave Cairo" you were humble.. and Dio admired that.

It was an instant, but the money hit your hand. Then he was gone.. and so was the portrait of the woman. Your eyes wandered to the over exceeding amount of money on piyour hands, "HOLY SHI-"

That was rare. An extreme rarity at that. Dio usually tends not to pay attention nor spend money on the common wealth of this day and age. Though he had come from poverty, when he rules one day, and day forever turned night.. there will be no poverty. Only the followers of a world that is Dio.

He stared at the painting, how he did very much so wish for his mother. He closed the closet door of his chambers, sealing the portrait into it hidden place.

Your talents are wasted in this place, but Dio will stop by again and again, to buy your art and admire the talent you so helplessly waste on the city that is Cairo.

#weeb stuff #original character #weeabotrash #anime #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo part 3 #dio brando fic #dio brando fanfic #dio #dio x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure dio #anime guys #jojo stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders #dio brando x reader

18 notes · View notes

imaginaryelle · 4 years

Text

Fic: And One He Writes Himself

(also yesssss. \o/ headcanon, but even though everyone blames wwx for the new rules, lwj going off script 100% freaked the clan out way more and imo would make the clan elders far more likely to chip out some more lines on the wall than anything wwx could do alone, lol)

@vera-invenire, here it is! Thanks very much for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing for it :D Many thanks also to @morphia-writes and @miyuki4s for their wonderful beta work, you are all awesome people.

Tags: CQL-verse, Chief Cultivator Lan Wangji, Wangxian, five times fic, pining, getting together, first kiss, long distance relationship (with meet-ups)

Length: ~6k (AO3 link here!)

1: Do Not Use Clan Techniques Inappropriately

To His Excellency, the esteemed Chief Cultivator, Hanguang-jun, the letter begins.

How will you ever know which letters are mine if I start them so formally? I promise, I promise, never again. Forever onwards you will be only Lan Zhan in letters, no matter what I have to write on the address.

But Lan Zhan, did you know? I’ve heard the most outrageous rumor lately. It’s the talk of traveling merchants and wine houses everywhere that you used the Lan Clan silence spell during the last cultivation conference. On every sect leader! Lan Zhan is so cruel. How could you do such a thing—and not invite me to see it? A baker in Yingchuan said Sect Leader Ouyang turned redder than his robes, and that Sect Leader Yao risked his throat and mouth still trying to speak. I’m tempted to call on Jiang Cheng and extract a full account from him, but we’d probably only fight again. Especially if you used it on him, too! Perhaps Jin Ling will be more accommodating for his long-lost uncle. Can I even think to trust a version of the tale from our dear Sect Leader Nie? I’m sure he managed to keep his voice unhindered, sly fox that he’s become.

It looks as if the rain is letting up, so my caravan will be leaving soon. I’ve heard all my life how beautiful Kuizhou is and now I finally have the time to visit. Have you seen it? I’ll send sketches of the landscape in my next letter; if you’ve been, we can compare notes, and if you haven’t perhaps they’ll help you decide if the rumors are true. For now, I can only offer this picture of your Gusu mountains. Think of it as a promise that I’ll come see them again someday.

Yours,

Wei Ying

P.S. I know you won’t tell me the story yourself, but I plan to beg you for it anyway. A tale like this is too good to keep behind your lips.

Lan Wangji reads it twice, committing the ebullient flow of Wei Ying’s writing to memory. The drawing is inked in a looser hand than he remembers from portraits and rabbits so many years ago, but he recognizes the landscape as the ridge on which they bid each other farewell, as seen from the trail towards the Qingling mountains.

He sets it to the side, smooths it carefully, and tries to take up his work again. The Jin Clan’s collected accounts of the last twenty years are neatly stacked before him, the white-gold bindings gleaming in yellow lantern light. He even manages to open one before his mind flits away, following the swooping energy of Wei Ying’s brush strokes into the night. He puts down the ledger, snuffs out the lantern, and stands. Perhaps he will check on the rabbits before curfew.

There is no announcement to go with the new rule listed in the main courtyard; it simply appeared on the Wall one morning, and then in all the library copies on the day after. But rumor swirls, of course, even in this place where gossip is prohibited. Perhaps especially here, behind white-and-blue sleeves in the juniors’ classes and through barely-moving-lips in the crafting, sword and music halls. As seems to be happening ever more frequently in the past few months, the name on the wind is Hanguang-jun.

Lan Wangji walks the wide, wandering paths between the back mountain and the Jingshi with the crisp folds of Wei Ying’s letter pressed between his yi and hanfu, over his heart. “Inappropriately” is a qualifier with more leniency than he is used to hearing from the Lan Clan elders. He wonders, with a sudden surge of surprise, if they are just as unsettled by and unprepared for his appointment to the position of Chief Cultivator as everyone else. Or perhaps it is simply that they have all attended more cultivation conferences between them than he ever wants to imagine. He can’t be the first Lan to have such an impulse. Loudly proclaimed falsehoods are, after all, exactly what the silencing spell was created to counter.

Yes. He is secure in his judgment. He has no doubts.

If the Sect Leaders cannot restrain themselves to speaking the truth, they will not speak to him at all.

2. Do Not Bother the Kitchen Staff

It’s supposed to be a surprise. A good surprise, for Wei Ying’s first visit to Cloud Recesses since Lan Wangji’s appointment as Chief Cultivator. He’s been working on it for weeks, ever since he received the letter declaring Wei Ying’s intent to visit for Qixi: he knows that Wei Ying’s greatest complaint about Cloud Recesses is the food, and so he will make certain Wei Ying has at least one meal more fitting to his tastes.

He knows it’s foolish, wishful thinking, but the idea that if he could just fix this one thing Wei Ying would stay has snuck into his mind, and so he purchases dried chilies and their oil from Yunmeng and spicy peppercorns and ginger from Caiyi, and rises before five every day for two weeks so that he might visit the kitchens and learn enough to prepare something simple.

If the kitchen staff are curious about his presence, they never let him see it. Li Jing seems pleased enough to teach him—stern and exacting, but never cruel—and pronounces the dishes of hot clear noodles, freshly pickled mushrooms and spicy tofu soup Lan Wangji produces “acceptable,” which is the highest praise she ever gives anyone. He makes them again the afternoon Wei Ying arrives, so that they will be ready for the evening banquet. He leaves a preservation talisman over the tray, and a note: For Wei Wuxian’s Return.

He doesn’t have time to check on it again. Wei Ying arrives like a spring storm, wild and sudden and casting the quiet paths of Cloud Recesses into disarray. He flits here and there like a blown leaf, greeting Lan Sizhui with an enthusiasm that violates at least three Clan principles before teasing Lan Jingyi with familiar humor and then complaining aloud—and loudly—that the rabbits still don’t like him. Never once does he venture further away than the reach of Lan Wangji’s shadow, and rarely even so far as that, but it is still not quite enough to quiet the tangled threads that pull and knot in Lan Wangji’s center. The press of paper against his chest is a habit born of a new kind of waiting, and now that Wei Ying is here, in front of him, the warmth it brings is more distraction than comfort.

Evening comes quickly, sweeping over Cloud Recesses with a cool, creeping fog and painting the mountain peaks in lively shades of red. Wei Ying tips his head back to watch a pair of cranes fly overhead and Lan Wangji watches the tilt of his mouth as he smiles and the line of his neck as he turns and waits.

He would have preferred a private dinner in the Jingshi, where Wei Ying might pair his special meal with his favorite wine and there would be no audience to comment on a lingering touch of fingertips as the cup passed between them. But it is not to be: his uncle is eating alone to aid his recovery after several days’ work refreshing the outer wards and his brother is still in seclusion, and so it falls on Lan Wangji to be present in the main dining hall for the evening meal.

Wei Ying pouts at this revelation but he joins the crowd without much protest—with so little in the way of objections, in fact, that Lan Wangji is certain he has some small rebellion in mind. As he is a single note of black and red in a chorus of white and blue, whatever it is is sure to be noticeable, but perhaps the food will be distraction enough. It is at least different from what Wei Ying has been served in Cloud Recesses before. Different enough that he frowns at it, and then opens his mouth to speak before he catches the slight shake of Lan Wangji’s head: silence during meals. Instead he fishes a whole dried pepper out of his soup for inspection and shoots Lan Wangji a questioning glance. The look of glee on his face when Lan Wangji nods is so captivating that Lan Wangji hardly even looks at his own portion before he starts eating.

It’s not that he doesn’t notice the unexpected added spice; his mouth burns after the very first bite, but Wei Ying’s surprised pleasure is worth any momentary discomfort. Even if it means he can’t actually taste most of the meal. It’s only when Lan Jingyi makes a faint choking noise that he realizes anyone else’s food has been affected. He can see the moment Wei Ying notices it too—his lips curl in like he’s clamped them together with his teeth trying not to smile, and his eyes widen even as he determinedly doesn’t look at anyone. Lan Wangji keeps his own eyes lowered as he examines the room. He is abruptly thankful that his uncle is not present, but many of the other elders are not so lucky. Several have already gestured for more tea or rice, an action that quickly ripples through the attending juniors as well.

The prohibition against talking during meals has never felt so smotheringly present as in this moment, watching faces turn red behind fiercely-clutched cups of tea. It’s Lan Bai who stands from his table and glares at Wei Ying, his face transformed more with emotion than the spicy food. He doesn’t speak—silence during meals—but he flaps his sleeve derisively and starts to sweep contemptuously past them, and Lan Wangji knows he will go straight to the Grandmaster, and then to the Sect Leader if he is still unsatisfied, because he always does. It will be an unpleasant waste of everyone’s time and an unnecessary stress on both of them because Lan Wangji already knows this incident is highly unlikely to repeat itself. It can only have happened at all in Li Jing’s absence, which means she has been called away earlier than expected for her grandchild’s birth in Caiyi.

“Do not be picky about food,” he reminds Lan Bai, and even the clicking of chopsticks stops in the wake of it. Lan Bai looks so affronted that for a moment Lan Wangji thinks he will actually argue the point.

Anything that might have been said is promptly forgotten as Wei Ying hurriedly stands and runs from the hall. He makes it just outside the doors before laughter bursts out of him, loud and joyous and likely audible to the whole of Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji holds Lan Bai’s gaze. He will not have this falling on Wei Ying’s shoulders, and he is no longer just the Second Jade of Lan, too young and too-headstrong, who spends too much time away from home. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lan Sizhui nudge Lan Jingyi, and both pick up their chopsticks. Slowly, the normal sounds of dinner resume, if with a great deal more tea than usual. Slowly, Lan Bai manages a rather stiff bow and excuses himself without further dramatics.

After he’s gone Wei Ying returns, mirth still spilling from every movement. He finishes his meal without speaking but it’s clear, as cultivators file out of the hall in silent rows, that he has plenty to say.

“That was—” He laughs again in the quiet of the Jingshi. “Lan Zhan, I can hardly believe someone so righteous as you would do such a thing. And to so many at once! Do you know how many times I tried to get into the kitchens when I was a student here?”

“It was unintentional,” Lan Wangji admits as he pours wine into Wei Ying’s cup. The incident is, in retrospect, rather reminiscent of a childish prank, and he should not be surprised to learn that Wei Ying might have planned something similar. “My preparation of your portion was not meant as a general instruction.”

Wei Ying accepts the cup with a soft brush of fingertips and a grateful smile, and then stills with it halfway to his mouth.

“Lan Zhan.” He sets the cup down with a sharp click. “Are you—Lan Zhan you made that? You—” his gaze drops for a moment and then he slides around the corner of the table to sit beside Lan Wangji instead of across from him. “You cooked that? For me?” His eyes are very wide, all traces of humor gone.

Lan Wangji hesitates, his fingers curling deeper in his sleeves. Perhaps his confidence was misplaced.

“Was it unpalatable?” he asks, because of course that’s possible. He hardly knows what the dishes are supposed to taste like to someone who actively enjoys them.

“It was delicious,” Wei Ying assures him. He reaches out with both hands and finds Lan Wangji’s fingers, and then his wrist. “Perfect.” He laughs, the sound a little watery. “I can’t believe—” he squeezes Lan Wangji’s hand, “—no one’s cooked just for me since—” he breaks off and turns away. His breath shudders through his frame.

Lan Wangji turns his wrist and links Wei Ying’s fingers through his own. This is perhaps not the reaction he hoped for, but he is hardly unfamiliar with the ways grief can lie in wait to ambush the most vigilant of minds.

“Sorry.” Wei Ying’s grip tightens. He manages to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes before ducking his head again, his chin tucked to his chest. “Sorry, sorry, this is—I don’t know why I—”

“It is alright, Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji guides his head back up and wipes the tears from Wei Ying’s cheek with his sleeve. “I’m here,” he promises. For you, always here for you, goes unspoken, caught somewhere deep in his chest.

Wei Ying’s face crumples. “Lan Zhan,” he says, the syllables half strangled on a sob, and he leans first into Lan Wangji’s shoulder and then sinks lower, until his head rests on Lan Wangji’s forearm above their joined hands, and he cries. It is not a particularly comfortable position, but Lan Wangji does not protest, even when Wei Ying’s tears soak through his sleeves to dampen his skin. He is, for a moment, at something of a loss for what to do. A faded memory comes to him of another night in this room, so long ago it’s more feeling than image: his mother’s soothing warm hands on his back and soft humming above him. And then another memory: Lan Zhan, won’t you sing for me echoing back at him from two decades passed.

He strokes Wei Ying’s shuddering shoulders, and he hums, soft and soothing, and he holds Wei Ying’s hand until he quiets, wrung out and limp with exhaustion.

Tomorrow he will rise early and prepare another meal for Wei Ying’s breakfast, shuttered away from curious eyes and open judgment. Tomorrow there will be music, and stories of mountains and rivers they never saw in their youth. Tomorrow they will walk the paths of his home side-by-side, and visit Little Apple and the rabbits, and he will watch Wei Ying revel in the afternoon sun. Tomorrow, together, they will build a lantern and release a promise to the heavens.

Tonight, he unbinds Wei Yings hair and combs it smooth with long, slow motions. Tonight he guides Wei Ying carefully to the bed and removes his boots and sees him settled under the blankets. Tonight he holds Wei Ying’s hand in his own and sits vigil against any specters of memory or dream that might come to haunt him, and for tonight—for tonight, that is enough.

3. Do Not Be Overly Affectionate in Public

“Pssst. Wei-qianbei.”

Wei Wuxian stops, much to Little Apple’s annoyance, and lets one hand slide down to Chenqing as he inspects his surroundings more closely. Cloud Recesses’ main gate is just around this bend in the path, and sometimes he thinks the donkey might be looking forward to their arrival even more than he is.

“Wei-qianbei.” A flash of white on the mountainous side of the path reveals Lan Jingyi, stumbling down to meet him with Lan Sizhui at his side and a gaggle of other young Lans in his wake.

“A-Yuan,” Wei Wuxian greets Lan Sizhui with a grin, “and so many upright young Lans. Whatever could you all be doing outside your own warded walls?”

Lan Sizhui steps forward. “Wei-qianbei,” he says with a bow, proper as anything, “before you meet with Hanguang-jun, there’s something you should see.”

Wei Wuxian purses his lips, considering. “How many rules are you planning to break with this venture?” he asks.

“Um. None.” Lan Sizhui looks back at his companions and then nods firmly. “It’s actually the Wall of Discipline we want to show you.”

Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue in disappointment. Youthful creativity squandered once again. “Really, A-Yuan, don’t they teach you Lans anything about negotiations? This proposal is not at all appealing to me. I’ve seen enough of those rules to last a lifetime. Or two.”

“We know that.” Lan Jingyi folds his arms over his chest and smiles like he has something to be smug about. “But we think you’ll want to see this one.”

Hm. There’s a bit of cunning in Lan Jingyi’s expression that Wei Wuxian must admit is refreshing to see in a Lan. And he’ll have to walk past the rules anyway, on his way to the Jingshi. It can’t really hurt to take a look.

“You see?” He gestures at Lan Jingyi. “This is much more intriguing. Take note.” He ponders for another moment, then nods. “Alright,” he agrees, nudging Little Apple back into motion. “But it had better be quick.”

They get some curious looks from the cultivators on gate duty, and it takes some time to get Little Apple settled, but soon enough they’re in the main courtyard, staring at the engraved hunk of rock that dictates so much of life in Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian isn’t certain what he’s supposed to be looking at. Yes, there’s a new rule: Do not be overly affectionate in public. He’s just not certain what was so important about it to merit a special visit.

“It was added months ago,” Lan Wangji says, appearing at his shoulder. “Shortly after your departure.”

Wei Wuxian looks up at him, searching for some hint of what he’s supposed to be understanding here. Lan Wangji is doing his best impression of an implacable jade statue, which generally means he’s having some very pointed thoughts indeed. Wei Wuxian leans in to jostle his shoulder and gets a faintly amused deepening of the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth in response. Success.

“How long was that, a few breaths?” Lan Jingyi asks to their right, too-loud as ever. “A count of ten?”

“I’m not certain that breaks it,” Lan Sizhui says, softer, “You’ve never been punished.”

That prompts Wei Wuxian to watch Lan Wangji more closely, waiting for confirmation or denial. But surely not. Surely they couldn’t mean...

Slowly, ever so slightly, Lan Wangji nods.

Wei Wuxian stares at the characters so carefully etched into the rock and struggles to contain his laughter.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, trying to hide his snickering behind his sleeve. “Lan Zhan, they can’t be serious. This sounds like they think I’m going to ravish you in the central courtyard.” It’s a joke. Very much a joke. He would happily ravish Lan Wangji in private, of course, if he could ever be certain Lan Wangji was interested in such pastimes, but—

“It’s not you they’re worried about,” Lan Jingyi says, though his smirk slides off his face almost as soon as it’s out of his mouth. Lan Wangji’s gaze settles on him for a moment, until Wei Wuxian draws his attention back by tugging at his sleeve because that—that doesn’t make sense.

“Lan Zhan,” he says. “Is this—this can’t be about Qixi. Can it?”

Lan Wangji looks away. The tips of his ears are turning pink.

“It is?” Wei Wuxian thinks hard, but he can’t remember anything from his last visit that would be drastic enough to prompt a new rule as a response. He frowns. “But we only built a lantern together. Building a lantern is hardly debauchery in public.” Even if it had felt like a bit more than just building a lantern at the time, with the mix of hope and nostalgia rising in his chest.

“Wei Ying is shameless,” Lan Wangji observes.

“I was a perfect gentleman!” Wei Wuxian protests. Well, alright, perhaps he had been overly touchy in his affection for Lan Sizhui. Or overly loud, at least. And there had been, admittedly, several moments where he’d had to to sternly restrain himself from kissing Lan Wangji in full view of all his elders and students. He had restrained himself precisely because he hadn’t wanted to spend the precious after-dinner hours of the festival writing lines or banished to kneel somewhere as some sort of penance. And also because even he wasn’t so shameless as to subject his first kiss to such a display. What if he did it wrong? Getting it wrong in front of Lan Wangji would be bad enough, but the whole of his clan as well? It hardly bears thinking about.

And yet, Lan Jingyi had said…

Wei Wuxian does have some well-worn memories of that time, of Lan Wangji’s steady presence at his side and the jumping, choking pulse of hope and want thrumming under his skin. There had been moments. When Lan Wangji plucked leaves out of his hair after an afternoon’s game with some of the younger Lan disciples. When their hands had touched over and over and over again as they built their shared lantern. The way Lan Wangji had looked at him after they’d released it. The mornings, when Lan Wangji presented him with breakfast made especially for Wei Wuxian, and the evenings too, when they played together, sharing songs both old and new, or simply sat together in easy quiet with a cup of Emperor’s Smile passed between them: one to pour, one to drink, fingers brushing. Moments when he’d thought—maybe that kiss was going to happen.

Maybe Lan Wangji had thought that too. Maybe—maybe he was waiting for Wei Wuxian to move first, maybe—

“Lan Zhan.” He reaches for Lan Wangji’s sleeve again. Lets his fingers slide down to linger on Lan Wangji’s own.

Lan Wangji turns, just slightly. Just enough to actually be facing him. There’s a quickly muffled noise to their right, which Wei Wuxian resolutely ignores.

“Lan Zhan,” he repeats, softer. “I really… I really do like you.” He shifts closer.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s fingers clench around his hand, and Wei Wuxian squeezes back.

“I like you so much,” he says, “and I wish...” He drops his gaze to Lan Wangji’s lips. “I wish...” His words dry up. All he can do is squeeze Lan Wangji’s hand tighter and stare at him and hope that—that his intent is clear. That Lan Wangji… understands and—

And then Lan Wangji is kissing him, moving their linked hands up to Wei Wuxian’s jaw and holding him still with Bichen pressed against his side and kissing him, and Wei Wuxian suddenly remembers the rules—rules Lan Wangji is breaking! For him!—and their audience, and he can’t stop the blush that burns on his face and neck but he’s not going to stop kissing Lan Wangji either.

“That definitely breaks it, right?” Lan Jingyi says in a whisper that is likely louder than he thinks it is, and Lan Wangji pulls away.

Wei Wuxian, embarrassingly, whimpers a bit, which turns into a only-somewhat aborted exclamation of surprise as Lan Wangji turns and starts dragging him along in the general direction of the Jingshi.

“Lan Zhan!” He jogs a little to keep up. He wonders how many rules they are breaking now—they’re not exactly running, but they’re certainly moving faster than usual. He’s definitely making noise. Is kissing someone still an impulsive act if he’s spent months and months thinking about it? And he’s quite certain that anyone looking at his expression, at least, would mark him down for “excessively happy” because the smile he’s wearing feels like it’s been stamped onto his face.

“Lan Zhan!” He stops in the Jingshi’s doorway and clings to the wall a little and waits for Lan Wangji to look at him along the taut line of their still-joined hands.

“What is it?” Lan Wangji’s voice is unexpectedly flat, and his grip on Wei Wuxian’s hand tightens as his eyes drop to that point of connection. As if he is perhaps afraid Wei Wuxian will try to slip free now.

“I just wanted to say, it is an honor to break the Lan Clan rules with you.” Wei Wuxian’s grin widens as Lan Wangji’s gaze narrows. He loves that glare so much. So, so much it feels like emotion is going to burst out of him like a breaking dam. “And,” he adds, gleeful and almost giddy, “I’m happy to help you break that one again any time you like.”

There is a moment of considering silence.

“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji allows, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips, and Wei Wuxian steps over the threshold and lets himself be pulled in like the moon pulls the tide—surging, crashing, and eternal.

4. Do Not Speak to Wei Wuxian

There is a new rule on the Wall of Discipline. Lan Wangji glares at it, which has little effect except to make his lover cling to his sleeve and laugh at him.

“Unjust,” Lan Wangji mutters. The rule has, admittedly, come in the wake of three separate disturbances to the Lan Sect’s calm, quiet existence, but Wei Ying is not to blame for them. If anything, it had been Lan Wangji himself who asked his young students the question: Who is just, and who is evil? Who is wrong and who is right? Who decides what is black and what is white? And how will you tell the difference outside these walls?

Just because Wei Ying is present in Cloud Recesses does not make him responsible for disruptions, even if he does take a certain amount of glee in watching such debates unfold.

Wei Ying’s glee is currently threatening to completely undo him as he collapses under the force of his own humor, more and more of his weight coming to bear where he holds Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, laughing enough to be hardly intelligible, “this is my favorite rule.”

Lan Wangji steadies him and waits, patiently, for an explanation. There usually is an explanation even if it is not always something Lan Wangji himself would consider reasonable or logical. Wei Ying tries to speak three times, each instance interrupted by a fresh peal of laughter before he finally heaves a few calming breaths and stands straight.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, wiping tears from his eyes, “with this rule, any time your uncle yells at me, he must break it. And the other elders! How will they punish me for talking at meals and running in the courtyards if they can’t speak to me?”

Lan Wangji’s lips twitch. “Ridiculous,” he says.

Wei Ying smiles, wide and exuberant. “Yes, yes, yes, so many of your rules are ridiculous,” he agrees, which is not what Lan Wangji meant, but he is well familiar with Wei Ying’s opinion in this matter. “But Lan Zhan,” he continues, “this one is silly. If only speaking to me were such a danger then you, you! Hanguang-jun, the Second Jade of Lan, the Chief Cultivator! You would be entirely beyond hope.” He shakes his head, incredulous and dismissive. Matter closed.

The implication, Lan Wangji is certain, is meant to be that he is obviously still an upstanding member of the Lan Clan, committed to its principles. This is true, but is perhaps truest in Wei Ying’s eyes, and in his own self-perception, rather than that view belonging to his Clan’s elders; Lan Wangji’s interpretation of the rules differs from his Uncle’s, and he knows the friction that causes is unlikely to resolve itself quickly. And then there are the rules he breaks willingly, repeatedly. The rules he is breaking right now, standing here with Wei Ying without attempting to hide either his affection for the man before him or his critique of an elder’s decisions. Speaking to him, as is apparently now prohibited. Lan An’s principles—and his exceptions—are well known to the Lan Clan elders, but Lan Wangji is still certain his ancestor would be much more forgiving of his transgressions than his living relatives are.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying leans into him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you want to know the best thing about this rule?”

Lan Wangji nods, and Wei Ying presses his lips tightly together, perhaps suppressing another laugh.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, leaning ever closer, until his hair brushes Lan Wangji’s ear and his breath is warm on Lan Wangji’s face. “Just think,” he says, conspiratorial and jubilant oh-so-dear, “I can never be punished for breaking it.”

5. Do Not Vandalize Sect Property

Their belongings are packed, the weather is clear, and Wei Ying is eager to return to the road. Lan Wangji, if pressed—by Wei Ying, in a quiet moment caught between breaths, private to themselves—might allow that he is also pleased to be leaving Cloud Recesses, at least for a time. To go night hunting again, to use his cultivation skills where they are most necessary, and to extract himself from the incessant politics of squabbling clans. To spend time with Wei Ying, and only Wei Ying, and to see the world as Wei Ying sees it. He has dedicated months of planning to this journey. Weeks of work to guarantee that they will not be interrupted, and that the cultivation world will weather his absence without more than the usual level of strife between sects.

Still, he stops in the courtyard, before the Wall.

“I will meet you at the back gates,” he says.

Wei Ying shoots him a curious look. “Is this about whatever had you talking to Zewu-jun for days and days?”

“I will meet Wei Ying at the gates,” Lan Wangji repeats. This topic is only tangentially related to matters he has discussed with his brother recently, and it only concerns Wei Ying in the way that most of Lan Wangji’s life concerns Wei Ying—his thoughts ever returning to him like the flow of rivers into the sea. There will be time to inform him of this later, when they are alone on the little-used mountain path to the southern provinces. He retrieves a bundle of bok choy and carrot tops from his sleeve and holds it out for Wei Ying to take. “For the rabbits.”

Wei Ying pouts, but he takes both the vegetables and the direction. “Secret Lan Clan business,” he mutters. He frowns and shakes the carrot tops at Lan Wangji. “You could have told me you were planning something.”

Lan Wangji could have, it’s true, but he knows Wei Ying. Even the hint of something unusual is enough to keep his interest for days—often long days, featuring frequent leading questions—ambushes from a probing enemy. And this is Clan business. Clan politics. Involving Wei Ying even as an observer courts resentment at best and chaos at worst. Wei Ying himself at least seems to realize the same. He sighs and waves the topic away.

“If you take too long the rabbits might start to like me best,” he teases instead, turning away and deliberately avoiding Lan Wangji’s skepticism.

Lan Wangji watches him until he’s out of sight and waits several slow, steady moments longer. He has gathered an audience, eyes watching from latticed windows, just-barely-open doors, and entirely-too-convenient conversations stopped just far enough away to allow observation. But that has been true of his life for years now—eyes wherever he goes, whatever he does. Here, now, perhaps it will actually be useful.

He approaches the wall and runs two fingers along the top edge, where he can feel the protective layers of generations of cultivators’ wards and talismans sunk into the stone. He could break them, with enough effort, or unravel them with the right array, but it won’t be necessary. What he has planned should not interfere with any of them. He steps back, pulls a talisman from his sleeve, and centers himself. He’s still not certain the words are exactly right, but they are the closest he could get.

It’s easier than expected. Perhaps due to something in his bloodline, or his cultivation level, or the memories he can bring to bear, stretching back past this handful of years, past Wei Ying’s resurrection, past his death, past Lan Wangji’s own injuries and seclusion, stretching back across long years to a childhood spent etching rules into his bones in the hope of one more afternoon listening to his mother talk and laugh and sing.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps the Clan has simply depended more on custom and reverence to protect the Wall than he anticipated. Perhaps they thought to ward only against actual damage. Whatever the reason, it is only the work of a few heartbeats to write the seal, focus his intent, and let it go.

The ink shines against the stone, stark against the carvings: An attempt to control others is a loss of self.

It won’t scrub off, or be easily banished. It will wear away with time, and rain, and wind, as all the world does. It will last weeks, at least. Perhaps months. Long enough. He suspects, in the utter stillness that the courtyard has suddenly become, that even a day would be long enough.

He does not look at the watchers in the windows, or across the courtyard. He turns and walks away, looking only forward. To Wei Ying, who is sitting on the ground near the back mountain gate with a leaf of bok choy in one hand as he attempts to coax a rabbit ever closer.

Wei Ying, who pouts as Lan Wangji approaches and the rabbits immediately lose interest in his offering of treats, instead gathering around Lan Wangji’s ankles. Wei Ying, who stands and tosses the leaf aside with a disappointed sigh more befitting of a child than a cultivator of his talent.

“Important Clan business done with?” he asks.

“Mn.” Lan Wangji gently nudges the rabbits away and steps over them, joining Wei Ying and Little Apple at the gate’s threshold. Wei Ying nods a few times, like he’s not really aware of his actions.

“You know, Lan Zhan.” His voice is oddly low, the words stilted. His hands move aimlessly in the space between them. “If you’d rather stay here—if you don’t want to come—”

“I want to, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji assures him before that line of thought can go any further. He takes Little Apple’s lead and holds Wei Ying’s gaze. “The paths we walk do not need to be lonely ones.”

Wei Ying smiles, his eyes overbright, and something between a sigh and a laugh bursts from his lips. “Lan Zhan,” he says in something closer to his normal voice, “you just say these things and I can’t—” His hands rise warm and familiar to Lan Wangji’s jaw, and their lips meet, and Lan Wangji stands still and steady and kisses Wei Ying for as long as it takes for Little Apple to become agitated and shove her head into Wei Ying’s hips, pushing him back. Based on the displeased scrunching of Wei Ying’s face as he glares down at his donkey, Lan Wangji is certain they would both agree it wasn’t nearly long enough. But there will be more chances. More long afternoons, more starlit nights and soft morning sunrises to share. He watches Wei Ying shake his head fondly and rub the donkey’s ears. Watches him grip Chenqing at his belt and turn with a smile.

“Alright, Lan Zhan,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with good humor and excitement and what Lan Wangji has tentatively started to think of as love, right there on his face for the whole world to see. “Where should we go first?”

#wangxian #the untamed #chen qing ling #lan wangji #wei wuxian #cql #alex writes

151 notes · View notes

vocalyunho · 4 years

Text

Warm Sunset

Pairing: Hongjoong x Female Reader Genre: fluff, smut Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: explicit unprotected sex

Anon who requested this, I hope it’s okay that the reader doesn’t paint a portrait of Hongjoong, but smth that reminds her of him.

Hongjoong’s birthday is next week and he’s always talked about how he’d love to have one of your paintings in his apartment...to admire it whenever he wanted, to always remember how talented of a girlfriend he has, to have it on the wall so everyone can see it and, maybe, now it’s time to create something absolutely and only for him.

Since you’re living alone in an apartment that’s more than enough for one person, you’ve turned one of the biggest rooms into your personal atelier. It’s not a massive workplace, it’s just a little bigger than a normal bedroom, but it fits all your art belongings perfectly. However, it’s not the cleanest place someone would lay eyes on...paint has gotten everywhere through the years and canvases lie here and there on every corner of the room. The tools are, also, soiled with paint because most of them have been with you since when you started painting but, truth is, you love seeing them like this...they show the hard work you’ve put into all your paintings even if they turned out to be beautiful in your eyes or not.

Being a Sunday today, you had the entire day to yourself...Hongjoong would probably come over during the evening to spend the night there, but you will have already stopped working on the painting by then. You started working on his painting last week and, even if you don’t work on it every single day, you’re on a good path and it’ll probably be ready by the day you’ll give it to him.

The painting is a landscape, a landscape of an- untouched by humanity- island. With its crystal waters shining and the sun setting and colouring the sky with millions of different hues of orange and yellow. The flora is rich with many trees and some flowers here and there that create a beautiful contrast with the colours of the sky. This landscape is him. He’s colourful and beautiful inside and out. He’s a peaceful place that you always wish to be around. He’s so pure, like he’s never been touched by the seaminess of the world. He’s a warm sunset in the middle of the summer, with a slight breeze that smoothly touches your face and gives you the feeling of a beautiful dizziness.

You were painting a number of trees when the door of the atelier opened and you turned around to face Hongjoong.

“I knew you’d be in here” he says and the corners of his lips curl up.

“I- yeah...I’m painting” you laugh, kind of nervously.

You had forgotten you had given each other a second key to your apartments and he could come in anytime with it, but you thought he’d come over much later.

“I thought you’d come over in the evening”

“yeah, that’s what I did”

“what?”

“it’s 6:30 Y/N” he said laughing “look at the clock”

“OH hahah, I lost track of time” you set the brush and paints down slowly and make your way towards him so that you’ll both leave the room without him asking about your painting, but that failed.

“what are you painting today?”

“oh it’s just...a present for a friend”

“it must be a dear friend...you have paint all over your clothes and face, baby” he laughed.

“really? I didn’t realise” you tried wiping your face while standing on the door.

“wait...is that sea I see? Is that an island?” he walks towards the canvas.

fuck.

“hah yes...my friend reminds me of...pretty islands and warm sunsets”

“that’s cute”

“why don’t we go now?”

“no, keep painting...I didn’t wanna distract you”

“you already did though”

“oh I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?”

“nonono I didn’t mean it like that...uh fine sit on the couch and I’ll go back to the painting, you might get bored though”

“there’s no way I’ll get bored of seeing you creating”

You felt a burn in your stomach, he’s so cute...

At least he didn’t ask anything else about the painting, but you didn’t wanna seem suspicious so inviting him to just stay there was the best option now...

You went back to the canvas, brush and paints in your hands again and kept creating tiny trees, but without even realising you kept looking back at Hongjoong...it must have been instinctive, since this is for him.

“what?” he laughed at some point.

“I’m sorry...you just inspire me” you said facing the canvas again.

“aww my baby is getting inspired by me”

He got up and walked up to you to give you a back hug.

“has anyone ever told you how cute and hot you look all concentrated?” he kissed your neck and you shivered.

“n-no”

“well, I am telling you right now”

“thank you”

“that’s all? not a kiss, not a lil grind, no nothing?” he lowered his hands to your sides.

“I’m trying not to get distracted, like you said Hongjoong”

“I did? A little break is never bad, then” he said and started kissing the place under your ear as his hands caressed your sides slowly. You let your head fall on his shoulder and your eyes fell shut.

He hadn’t realised that you still had the paints and brush on your hands and when he turned you around to get you closer, the palette got squeezed between your bodies and colours darted on both the floor and your faces and clothes.

“HONGJOONG”

“I’ll clean that later” he said and took the palette and brush off you hands fast and placed them on your desk. You checked the canvas to make sure paint wasn’t thrown on it, but before you were even 100% sure, Hongjoong cupped your cheeks and smashed his lips on yours. He didn’t hesitate a bit and turned the kiss into a sloppy make out session. He’s giving open mouthed kisses and so are you, giving him the chance to slip his tongue in your mouth. He didn’t stay there for long though and the moment he bit on your lower lip, a moan escaped from your lips, making him smile against you.

“that’s exactly what I wanted to hear” he said and slightly, but forcefully, pulled your hair back to expose your neck to him.

“fuck” you exhaled and when you felt his lips on your neck, you knew he would try to hold back his bites and that’s what he did. Every time he’d bite with a little more pressure, he’d instantly stop at the best part, but you were not having it.

“It’s okay Hongjoong, I can cover it”

“Are you sure?”

“yeah”

He bit on the side of your neck and you felt your knees weaken, but tried to hold onto his shirt for support. He harshly sucked on the place, making your eyes fall shut and driving moans out of you, which got mixed with his sounds against your neck. You really needed some support right now, something you can lean on because his shirt wasn’t enough. So, when he nibbled on your skin and you felt your head fall all the way back, you guided him backwards till his back touched the wall, where the canvas stood on the left and a big window on the right.

He drew his head back to admire his own canvas and your eyes snapped open, only to see him smiling at his creation. He looks so pure, like he didn't just mark your neck or like his boner isn't brushing against your thigh in need of friction.

"lie on the sofa" you told him and the smile on his face turned into a smirk, like he knew he was about to have a good time.

He immediately did as you told him and after pulling his and your own pants off, you climbed on the free place between his legs.

"look, I've never sucked someone off on my workplace and you know that..." you said as you pulled his underwear down, freeing his member and letting it hit against his stomach.

"...but there's always a first time for everything, I guess" you tapped his tip on the last words and started pumping him slowly, adding more and more pressure on each pump, until you took him in your mouth.

He inhaled loudly and supported his body on his elbows to watch your every move, as you twirled your tongue around his width. You didn't force yourself to take him all in, your hand can do just fine on the part that won't be in your mouth, so you started blowing him. Your head is moving fast in all directions on his shaft and his head fell back as a loud moan left his lips. You leave him just for a second to get the wetness all over his dick, but as you pump him, pre-cum leaks from his tip.

"oof baby, why are you so quick today?"

He didn't have the time to answer as you took him in your mouth again, bobbing faster now while your hand is massaging the lower part of his member.

"fuuck, just like that baby" he groaned and his eyebrows furrowed.

You kept going, bobbing faster and faster and your hand squeezed on his base, until a wave of praises mixed with curses fell from his lips and his legs started trembling. When he throbbed in your mouth and gasped, you stopped, trying to prevent his orgasm. He let his body fall on the sofa as his chest is rising and falling fast.

"why are you so good at this?" he said through sharp breaths and with a quick move, he pulled your legs making you lie down this time.

"I'm good too, though", he's hovering above you.

"I know-" his hand flew to your clothed centre and you gasped as he started massaging your clit with his thumb. His left hand lifted your shirt and you took it off, letting him caress your lower stomach. The bundle of nerves on your clit is going crazy and you can feel your thighs starting to slightly tremble as low moans are leaving your lips.

"Hongjoong n-no...I dont wanna come yet" you whisper, grabbing his wrist to stop him and keep him in place.

"don't worry babygirl, I'd stop anyways" he said and before you could even come down, he slid your panties to the side as he smoothly pushed in without warning. Your eyes widened and your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden stretch, but his eyebrows also furrowed at the feeling.

"ffu-uck" you cried and he kept pushing in, slowly and steadily until he bottomed out.

When he did, he came close to your face brushing his lips on yours “I won’t be gentle, princess” and pulled almost all the way out to thrust in fast.

A whimper found its way out of your throat and his hand travelled up to wrap around your neck. This made a smile appear on your lips and you felt your core getting wetter. He started thrusting slow but hard and the force of his hips could be heard on the way your skin slapped against each other.

“a-ahh, yess”

He moved faster without pulling out more than halfway before he thrusted back in again. His fingers around your throat tighten with every louder groan he lets out and his pace is fast enough to make you see stars. The blood runs fast through your brain and your moans have turned into a distant echo in your ears.

“Hongjoong, fasterr-” he shoved himself into you harder and your cries got mixed with high-pitched moans. You couldn’t control your vocals, it’s like every thrust pushed a louder moan out of you and every whimper of his got you closer and closer.

“do you- like this-?” His fingers on your neck tighten.

“yess-”

The sofa moves along with his movements, his grunts are strained and his dick starts twitching unexpectedly. He’s pounding into you and you can feel your walls clenching leading you to feeling every ridge of his cock drag along. Your cries and his moans are in unison and fill the silent room, but when you let your orgasm get over you, he quiets himself down. It’s like he’s pressing himself not to make any loud noises, just to hear yours. He’s heaving through his nose, as your colours get all over his size and before you were done, he reaches his own climax, throbbing uncontrollably and mixing your liquids together. Incoherent syllables leave his mouth and his hold around your throat gets loose, while the orgasm washes over him. Your cries stopped getting louder as you’re panting now and when he slowly pulls out, the sudden emptiness feels weird. He lies on you, with his head buried in your shoulder, still breathing fast.

“I’ve never done this in here” you say.

“I know, baby”

“By the way, thank you in advance for this beautiful painting” he smiles and gives a kiss on your shoulder.

“w-what painting?” your eyes widen and you’re glad he’s facing the other way.

“you’ve told me before that I’m your warm sunset and that’s what you said when I asked you about the painting too”

“FUCK”

“It’s really pretty, really...but not as pretty as your eyes” he said and faced you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you laughed it off.

He’s still so pure...like he didn’t just fuck you on the sofa of your workplace, with paint on your clothes and faces as the sun is setting. Maybe he really is your warm sunset...

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #painter reader oof #kpop fic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

313 notes · View notes

ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut · 4 years

Text

Fate’s Divergence Chapter 3

@halfelven-maiden

@astraskylark

@terra-mations

@the-bagel-queen

@magykqueste

@i-poseidon95

Hey guys! Thanks so much for everyone who reviewed and subscribed and bookmarked! Everyone’s support of this story makes me so happy!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Prince

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

Callum gazed out the window anxiously, trying to pinpoint his mother and stepfather’s horses on the horizon, but all that greeted him was the dull wintery lands of Katolis. He sighed, nervously fiddling with his hands before going back to his desk where many of his drawings were, along with his sketchbook.

It was the best gift he’s ever gotten. Now he could have something to take with him everywhere and sketch whatever came to mind. He was so grateful to the king for giving it to him, for giving him and his mother a home with him, for giving him a baby brother. Callum was very lucky, he thought.

If only they would return, then he’d be even more lucky.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he carefully sketched his mother, the king, him, and his baby brother Ezran. Callum was hoping to give it to his mother and the king when they returned, to show how much better he’s gotten at drawing. He was excited to hear his mother’s voice praising him and the king’s gentle laugh.

He missed them greatly.

The sun was well over the horizon by the time he finished, Callum giving a satisfied grin at his work. He was young, but his mother often praised him for having such talent. She joked he could maybe do portraits one day. The king said he might even hire him to do his own portrait.

“Callum!” six-year-old Claudia, Lord Viren’s daughter, burst into his room practically bouncing. “They’re back! Dad and the king and queen are back!” she announced. Callum grinned shyly, hastily getting up from his desk to join her. She grabbed his hand and they ran through the palace, giggling in happiness at the return of their families. By the time they got to the courtyard, eight-year-old Soren was already there, huffing.

“What took you so long?! They’re coming in the gate now!” Soren complained. Claudia dropped Callum’s hand and tackled Soren in a hug, making the boy go “oof!”

“Oh come on, Sor-bear! We didn’t take that long! You’re just impatient!” Claudia playfully critiqued her brother. “A future crownsguard should learn patience from time to time!”

“As a future crownsguard, I’ll outrank you so you should give me respect!” Soren stuck his tongue out at her. Claudia responded by yanking his tongue with her fingers. “Ack! Wold fwingers!” Soren cried.

“Here they are!” Callum interrupted the siblings, seeing the traveling party enter, the titan’s heart in tow. Callum saw both his mother and the king were safe, if a little worse for wear. Nonetheless, seeing them all right made him relieved.

“What’s that?” Soren questioned, and Callum directed his attention to what Soren was pointing at. He was so caught up in seeing his family safe that he didn’t notice the other person on Harrow’s horse, riding with him. His eyes widened.

“It’s an elf!” Claudia said excitedly. “Oh! They must’ve brought her home for Dad’s Dark Magic! Think of all the things he can do with elf ingredients!” Claudia was on Cloud 9 with all the possibilities.

Callum stayed silent, just watching the elf. She looked like his age. He didn’t know elves could be kids too. His green eyes traced her features, lingering on her pointed ears and horns, fascinated.

However, what unnerved him was the desolate look in her violet eyes, as if she was being led to the gallows. Callum felt his heart clench for some reason, wanting more than anything to reach out to her. The king was kind—he was sure he was treating her well, Callum reassured himself.

“Ohhhh I wonder if they really do suck blood! That’d be interesting to study.” Claudia remarked. Soren scoffed.

“God, you’re so weird Clauds. Drinking blood is disgusting!”

“Not for Elves I heard! I mean, what else do they eat?”

“How about actual food? At least… I hope so.” Soren looked like he was going to turn green. Claudia laughed, ruffling his hair.

The party stopped right near them and Claudia and Soren raced to their father. Viren got off his horse to greet his children.

“Dad! Are you going to dissect the elf?” were Claudia’s first words.

“NO!” Queen Sarai finally spoke, looking horrified at the prospect. “No, Claudia. No dissecting will be allowed.” She said a little more gentle to the younger girl, who was shocked the kind queen spoke to her in such a manner.

“She is to be treated with respect, children.” Harrow told them, dismounting his horse, turning to take the little elf in his arms. She numbly accepted his assistance, glancing around in a dull manner. It appeared she was shaking a little. Harrow rubbed her arms to try and soothe her. Callum also wanted to approach and soothe the elf girl. He felt himself take a step forward, his hand twitching, before another voice called him.

“Callum!” his mother was joyful when she saw him. Callum’s heart leapt in happiness, racing towards Sarai as she dismounted. The queen embraced her son tightly. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“Mom…?” Callum voiced, noticing the tired eyes and sad smile. “Are you okay?”

He saw his mother glance at the elf, observing her, before turning her head towards him again.

“Yes. I am fine. Never better.” Sarai promised. He couldn’t help but feel there was something she wasn’t sharing, but he didn’t want to make her sad. He hugged his mother again, trying to convey he was here for her if she needed it.

“Callum!” King Harrow called, walking towards them with the elf still in his arms. Callum saw the elf had a curious glint in her eye, despite her slumped posture. Callum surveyed her curiously as well. His hand twitched again, wanting to touch her. Everything about her was so captivating. Her skin, her hair, her eyes, her markings, her ears, her horns—he wanted nothing more than to portray her on paper. “I hope you and Ezran were good while we were away?” the king teased.

“Yes sir. Ezran missed you.” Callum straightened his posture while addressing the king. The king gave him a tender smile.

“I missed you both as well.” He then knelt down, showing him the elf. “This little one will be living with us from now on. I would like you to think of her as family, okay?”

Callum could see Lord Viren grimace at the statement, eyeing the elf with distaste in the background. As for Soren and Claudia, they were watching the interaction between Harrow and him with interest.

His eyes found the elf’s again, and they stared at each other. He could see under the dullness, she had a hint of apprehension in her eyes, as if expecting he was going to hurt her. He saw her clutching Harrow for dear life, and Callum realized she had four fingers instead of five on each hand.

“Hi…” he said quietly, as if nervous a loud noise was going to scare her. “I’m Callum. What’s your name?”

She simply blinked at him, before shaking her head in dismay.

“Manka ere' amin sinte mani lle naa sayien…” she murmured in a foreign language that Callum’s never heard before. She turned to the king, tired, but firm. “iire amin naa goien gurth-?”

“It’s all right, little one.” Harrow reassured her. “Callum, Sarai, Ezran, and I will make sure you’re happy. I promise you.”

“How long is she going to stay with us?” Callum wondered. He hoped it was for a while. He would love to draw tons of pictures of her!

“This is her home now, sweetie.” Sarai placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly. “She’s going to be with us for a long time.”

“Come, let’s go inside and get settled in.” Harrow beckoned everyone. He then turned to Viren. “How soon can you do the spell, my friend?”

“I can do so immediately in the morning. Tonight, I will prepare everything.” Viren replied. Harrow sighed in relief.

“Excellent. Escort the wounded to the infirmary and everyone relax for the night.” Harrow told everyone. Callum saw Aunt Amaya went with the wounded and frowned.

“Is Auntie all right?” he asked Sarai.

“Yes. She just got injured a little, but she’ll be fine.” Sarai reassured her son. “Let’s go inside now and we’ll see Ezran as well.”

Callum grinned.

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

Harrow had placed the elf in a bedroom near Callum’s before they went to dinner, saying she needed rest. Callum was disappointed he wouldn’t see more of the elf, but figured she probably was tired with how exhausted she looked.

He wished he could understand what she was saying. Sarai and Harrow explained she didn’t know Common, and that made him wonder what language she was speaking.

“She was speaking Elvish, sweetie.” Sarai told him smiling. “All elves in Xadia speak Elvish. She knew some Common so it’s possible she was in the process of learning it.”

“We maybe should’ve asked Xadia to give us a translator for her then.” Callum said as he gulped down some food. “Then maybe we could know what she was saying! Maybe you guys should write a letter to Xadia asking to come help her learn Common?”

Sarai and Harrow shared a look. Ezran was giggling, playing with his food as Sarai fed him. Callum caught the look.

“What’s wrong?” Callum was confused. “Can’t Xadia help?”

“…no, sweetie. Xadia can’t help.” Sarai finally said. Callum furrowed his brow.

“Well then Xadia is mean! Did they kick her out? Is that why she’s with us?” Callum continued to ask questions, the mystery surrounding the elf driving him mad.

“She’s with us because she helped us.” Harrow finally said, him and Sarai looking uncomfortable. Callum grinned.

“Oh! She helped get the Magma Titan’s heart! Xadia probably was mad at her then!” Callum concluded. Sarai and Harrow didn’t correct him. He helped himself to some more food. “It’s okay! She’ll be happy with us! We’re going to take care of her, right?”

“Yes.” Sarai told him, smiling gently. “We’ll take care of her no matter what.”

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

“I should’ve told him…” Sarai whispers when her and Harrow are alone in their room, Ezran sleeping soundly at her chest. “I should’ve told him my mistake.”

“He’s young, Sarai. I don’t think he would understand.” Harrow tried to comfort his wife. Sarai shook her head.

“The little elf understood perfectly what we’ve done!” Sarai protested. “How can we believe she’ll be happy here when she knows in the back of her mind, I was the one who took her from her home?” Tears came to her eyes. Harrow looked at her in sadness.

“Maybe so… perhaps we are foolish in thinking we can make the little one happy…” Harrow said, but then he smiled at her. “But… I will never stop being thankful for her standing up to Thunder to protect you. Perhaps she’ll be angry for a long time, but eventually, hopefully, she’ll come to know how much it means to us she did what she did, even if it didn’t turn out the way she expected.”

“So we ignore her anger?” Sarai was displeased with that option.

“No. We accept it. We take it. And we share in her suffering.” Harrow told her. “We must accept we caused her suffering but show her we hold no ill will towards her, even if she never forgives us.”

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

Rayla stared out at the moon mournfully. Humans confused her. They don’t torture her or chain her up. Instead, they put her in a nice bedroom and fed her good food! She couldn’t help but constantly think she was entering a trap. Maybe they were sadistic and wanted her to be comfortable before they killed her?

Perhaps their sadistic ways are what got them banished from Xadia. They invented Dark Magic after all. It made sense.

Yet, she remembered the human male and his human woman (she figured they must be married with the affection they give each other) speaking to her softly, giving her comfort, despite neither of them understanding what she was saying and she them. She remembered the human woman who made weird gestures with her hands, giving her an easy-going smile.

She wished more than anything she knew more Common. Rayla was just beginning to learn from Runaan and Ethari what Common was. It was so much different than Elvish that’s for sure. She knew several phrases like “Don’t hurt” or “Go away” and words like “Mum” and “Dad” and “No” and “Yes” but that was about it.

She refused to beg though. Moonshadow elves do not beg for mercy. She would not plead or sob to spare her. It would be honorless.

Rayla gazed once more at the moon, brow creasing. She wondered what her parents, Runaan, and Ethari were doing right now. Did they miss her? She certainly missed them.

Tears came to her eyes, but she hurriedly wiped them away, glaring at the tears in her hand. However, her eyes continued to make more. She hiccuped.

It hit her then—how she would never see her parents or Ethari or Runaan ever again. She would never get to learn how to be a Moonshadow elf warrior or grow up with her kind. She would never get to frustrate Runaan again with her stubbornness or hear her mother’s lullabies or have her father braid her hair or have Ethari make her moonberry surprise. She would never see her king or her queen. She would never see any elf ever again.

She would never see Xadia, her home, ever again.

Sobs wracked her body violently as she curled in on herself. Tears rushed down her cheeks, and she hugged herself.

She was going to die here. Alone and away from her home, with no one to say goodbye to or mourn her. She kept telling herself she had to be brave—that she would make Xadia proud in her death.

“Amin naa ba! Amin naa ba! Amin naa ba!” Rayla told herself fiercely as she sobbed.

I am already dead.

Runaan had drilled this into her when she first began her training. Her mother and father lived by it. All Moonshadow elves lived by it. Moonshadow elves do not show fear, no matter what.

And yet, she was terrified.

Someone laid their hand on her shoulder, and Rayla jolted, rising her head up. Concerned green eyes stared back at her.

------

There’s chapter 3! There will be more Callum and Rayla next chapter! Please let me know what you think so far.

Translations:

Manka ere' amin sinte mani lle naa sayien = if only I knew what you were saying

iire amin naa goien gurth- = when am I going to die?

Amin naa ba = I am dead

92 notes · View notes

ryoyiel · 4 years

Text

Hogwarts AU - Chapter 1/?

Hey guys! I thought I’d upload my work here on tumblr as well, so here you go!

The house of the Prevc family was old and dark and mysterious, with many rooms and floors. Everywhere in the house hang portraits and photographs of the family and their ancestors. Countless books in ancient bindings and runes filled their library, dark artefacts could be found all across the mansion. You could feel the magic when you entered the house, breathe it in. They were a proud family. Proud of their descend, proud of their belongings, proud of their magic, which was one of the strongest, but also one of the darkest family magic in all of Europe. But most of all they were proud of their eldest son, Peter. Peter was everything an honourable pureblood family could wish for in an heir. His magic was strong, so strong that even the portraits he passed by could sense it. He knew how to behave, knew the etiquette. His younger brothers were not so much like him. Whereas Cene, their second son, was a son they could very well be proud of too, even though he and Peter differed a lot in character and attitude, Domen certainly was not. Where their ancestors praised Peter for his outstandingly strong and dark magic and aura when he walked past their portraits, they wrinkled their noses when Domen did.

“Disgustingly light the aura of this boy”, Domen’s great grandfather had said once, followed by a very rude sounding word Domen, who was five at that time, could not understand. (He looked it up in a Slovenian dictionary years later and felt very much taken aback to say the least)

Domen was different from the rest of his family, and he knew from an early age on. Not at last because his parents told him every time, they got the opportunity to do so. Especially when he didn’t start to show any signs of accidental magic until the age of ten when he made Peter’s hair fall out at the Christmas dinner, because his parents had started to praise Peter and made Domen yet again feel horrible for being who he was and how he didn’t have enough magic in him to ever get his Hogwarts letter.

A few months later he got the letter and tomorrow Domen would finally go to Hogwarts with his brothers. Tomorrow was the day he had been looking forward to all his life, yet Domen couldn’t sleep. Tough he was excited to finally learn more about his magic and how to use it, he was scared to not live up to his parent’s expectations. Scared of bringing even more dishonour to the family. It was his chance to make things right, he knew that because his mother had mentioned it often enough. But he wasn’t sure he could, if he actually wanted to.

“Did you fear not being sorted into Slytherin?”, Domen had asked Cene, who had just shrugged.

“Not really. When I sat up there, the hat on my head, I was so sure I was going to be sorted into Slytherin. The sorting hat told me, that Ravenclaw would seem a better fit to him. But he ended up putting me into Slytherin anyway, because after all it was my wish. He takes them into consideration. You don’t have to worry”

Domen knew that Cene wanted to make him feel better, but he only made things worse. Domen didn’t want to be in Slytherin. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his oldest brother who was so stuck up and perfect. He didn’t want to be anywhere near those people who spread so much hatred and fear. He didn’t want to be one of them. Though he knew not all of them were like that. They couldn’t be! After all, Cene was one of them and he was the most kind and caring person Domen had ever met. However, Domen didn’t want to be there. He couldn’t tell why, not yet. In a few years he’d know. He’d know that his parents were in the wrong and that he had already sensed it back then. He’d know that all of their values were meaningless and against his own believes. But at that very moment Domen was nothing but scared out of his mind about how his parents would react if he wasn’t sorted into the right house.

Domen had managed to fall asleep eventually. He could remember both Peter and Cene telling him about their dreams they had the night before they went to Hogwarts for the first time. How they dreamt of the sorting ceremony and the feast. Of unfamiliar faces on the train. Domen didn’t have any of that. He didn’t dream at all, at least he couldn’t remember when he woke up. Rather was woken up. Their house elf, Jošt, had been sent into his room by his parents to wake him up and he did so by banging his hands against Domen’s nightstand. Needless to say, Domen didn’t appreciate it.

“Bloody hell Jošt, stop it!”

Jošt was wearing a dirty old bedsheet. Domen could make out a big pinkish flower where the fabric fell on Jošt’s shoulder. He was sure that ever since he was born Jošt had been wearing that very same bedsheet. The elf stared at him, an ever so grumpy look on his face.

“Master Prevc, your mother has sent me to tell you that you have missed breakfast and that you are leaving in half an hour”, just like Domen’s parents, the elf only spoke Slovenian. When his grandparents had moved to England, they had already brought him with them, therefore he was very old already and not at all fund of the thought of having to learn a new language, even though he had lived here for several decades. “She wishes you to get dressed and come downstairs. I will be taking care of your luggage for you, master”

“Hvala” While Jošt, just like the rest of his family, valued tradition and honoured their family’s name, he was a good soul. He cared about the kids a lot, especially about Nika and Ema, Domen sisters who both were a few years younger than him. He was a bit of a replacement for their grandfather, who had died the same year Nika was born. It was also Jošt who had sneaked up to Domen’s room when the young boy had been grounded and not allowed outside of his very own four walls. Who had played chess with him and sometimes brought along sweets from the kitchen.

They used floo powder to get to London. Domen’s parents were close friends with another Slovenian family, the Zajcs. Their son and Domen were the same age and best friends for as long as he could remember. They were both first years and Domen couldn’t wait to explore the castle with him the same way they had explored the grounds around the Prevc’ home. The moment he arrived in the salon of the Zajc family, he saw Timi’s face beaming at him in excitement.

“We’re going to Hogwarts, can you believe it?” The other boy took both of Domen’s hands in his own and dragged him out of the fire place, jumping a little in excitement. “It’s surreal”

For the first time in days Domen actually felt truly excited. Even if his family was going to disown him if he was sorted into the wrong house, at least he was going to have fun. To have the time of his life. He would make new friends. He squeezed Timi’s hands a little and he felt how Timi’s genuine happiness started to infect every inch of his body. If everything was going wrong, he would still have Timi by his side.

“I can’t wait!” Domen looked into Timi’s face. He had always thought that Timi had very fascinating eyes and right now it looked as if there were actual stars locked in them. Only when his father pulled him away and to his side, he had realised that he had stared.

“My youngest son is going to Hogwarts now, I cannot believe it!” He laughed a deep laugh that was very typical of him. Domen didn’t like it, because he knew it to be fake. His father never laughed at home, he only did when others were around, especially not when it was about Domen. His parents were champions at hiding to other how they really felt about him, how much of a disgrace he was. He knew for a fact that Timi’s father wasn’t any different.

“They’re growing up so fast” Timi’s mother sighed as she cupped Domen’s face with her hands. She was a beautiful young lady who looked way too young next to her husband. Domen liked her a lot, because she always brought him and Timi biscuits when Domen was staying over. She seemed genuinely nice and he knew that she was a Hufflepuff back when she was at Hogwarts. She cared a lot about her son, and she cared a lot about Domen as well. Domen secretly wished that she would be his mother as well.

Mrs. Zajc brushed a strand of hair out of Domen’s forehead before she let go of him again. In the corner of his eye he could see his own mother giving her the same glance she gave him and his siblings when they did something she didn’t approve of.

“We have to get going”, Timi’s father exclaimed, looking slightly uncomfortable. Domen once overheard Cene and Peter talking about how their parents and Timi’s parents only were friends because they both were dark and ancient Slovenian pureblood families with a similar political view – though the Zajc family was less radical – and not because they actually enjoyed each other’s company.

On the way to Kings Cross Domen didn’t talk a lot, unlike Timi who didn’t shut up for a single second about how excited and thrilled he was to finally go to Hogwarts. Halfway to the train station Domen had managed to block out the other boy’s voice and was again thinking about what was to happen if he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. What was to happen if he didn’t live up to his parents’ expectations and, lord beware, wouldn’t be allowed back home and thrown out by them. Maybe Timi’s parents would give him shelter – though Domen wasn’t sure if Mr. Zajc would approve of him not being in Slytherin either.

Domen got pulled out of his thoughts when he bumped into his younger sister Nika, who had challenged herself by trying not to step onto the gaps between the stones on the ground. Peter managed got a hold of them both so that they wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Watch your steps”, he snapped at Domen. The younger boy rolled his eyes.

Domen wanted to say something mean, but he didn’t dare. Peter took Nika’s hand in his own and they kept on walking. Domen stared at the back of Peter’s head, hoping it would explode if he just stared long enough.

“Don’t mind him” Timi had put his hand on Domen’s back and gave him an encouraging smile.

“That’s easier said than done”

“I know, I’ve spent enough time with him”

Domen sighed as they entered the station. They went to get carts for their trunks and moved to the platforms 9 and 10. It was the fourth time now for Domen to get onto platform 9¾ but he still couldn’t remember which wall they had to run into. Peter led their group and without any signs of distress he walked into one of the brick walls, head held high.

Cene followed, with a much higher pace. Domen looked at Timi who was slightly nervous. He winked at him before he started to run towards the wall. Though it wasn’t his first time he was scared that the wall suddenly decided to not let him through and he were to crash into it. But instead of crashing, he went through and straight onto platform 9¾.

Domen loved to see the colourful, traditional robes mixed with suits and muggle clothing. He loved the sound of cheerful voices that laid like a blanket over them.

“Mum, I’ll write to you, I promise!” Timi looked rather annoyed by his mother who was trying to fix the collar of her son’s shirt.

“Don’t forget to write me about… You-know-what”, she mumbled. Domen knew they were talking about her because Cene had told him a week ago, that their mother had requested a weekly report about Domen’s behaviour and that his two brothers should take care of him if he didn’t bring honour to their family. Cene had reassured him that he would never in a million years consider actually doing so. He looked accordingly annoyed when their mother brought up the topic again. Peter in the meantime nodded and reassured her that she wouldn’t have to worry and that he’d be taking care of the issue. Domen hated him for calling him that.

After hugging his brother, his mother also pulled Domen into a tight hug. It felt awkward because they never did that.

“I will miss you so much my baby”, she cried out, in English and for everyone to hear, just to make sure they knew how perfect of a family they were, before she whispered “Behave or you will be disowned faster than you can imagine” Then she let go of him. Their father only nodded at them.

The three boys said goodbye to their sisters, before they got onto the train and parted ways.

On the train Timi and Domen went to look for a compartment. They were some of the last ones to get on the train and therefore they had quite some trouble finding that had space for two more students and where the people sitting in the compartment didn’t scare the two boys too much. The train had long left Kings Cross before the two of them found a place to sit. Towards the other end of the train, three boys sat in a compartment, happily chatting with each other. Timi opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Do you still have room for two?”, he asked and the boys started talking and looked at the both of them.

“Sure, take a seat”, one of the two Asian boys with a wide grin. The boy next to him, who too looked Asian, just nodded. The third guy, who very much didn’t look Asian, removed a small, weird looking, square with some weird wires coming out of it from the seat next to him.

Timi and Domen went to sit next to him.

“I’m Naoki Nakamura”, who has been speaking earlier said as he reached out for their hands.

“Timi Zajc”, said Timi as he shook his hand.

“Domen Prevc”, said Domen. Naoki nodded.

“You are purebloods, right?” While Timi nodded a bit too enthusiastically, Domen felt a bit weird. He didn’t want the first conversation they had be about blood purity.

“And you two are?”, Domen asked the other two boys, not wanting to continue with the topic.

“Vojtěch Štursa”, the boy next to Timi answered. He smiled at them.

“Ryoyu Kobayashi”, the third boy said. He too smiled at them, but it seemed less enthusiastic as the other two’s.

“Are you first years as well?”, Naoki now spoke again. Domen sensed him a very sociable guy already and he kind of liked that.

“Yes” Timi nodded enthusiastically. He was about to continue the conversation when they were interrupted by a knock on the compartment door.

“Anything off the trolly dears?” An old lady stuck her head in through the door, smiling at them with a warm smile. Behind her, Domen could make out a trolly filled with treats. Chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, sugar quills – everything a children’s heart desired.

“Yes please”, he answered, together with Timi, Naoki and Vojtech.

They took something from everything and split it evenly between them. Only Ryoyu had kept quiet and didn’t take anything. He was staring suspiciously at Vojtech who was trying to eat his chocolate frog.

He leaned towards Naoki and asked him something in a forgein language Domen didn’t understand. Naoki answered in the same language. Domen could only guess that he was guiding him through the different sweets in front of him, given that Naoki was using the same names they used in English when referring to the products.

“Do you have different kind of sweets in… Where were you from?”

“Japan”, Naoki again smiled at him. “And yes they are quite different there… More fancy actually, but you have to know that Ryoyu is a muggleborn and not used to his sweets jumping around and making frog noises”

Domen laughed a little. Timi only forced himself to smile. Out of the two of them, Domen had always found it easier to talk about muggles and muggleborn wizard without insulting them at every given opportunity. It had also been Domen who had made friends with several muggle children who lived close to their mansion, and had then been given hell by his parents for it.

“Don’t say anything rude now”, Domen switched to Slovenian so that the other wouldn’t understand what was going on. He had felt Timi stiffen next to him and he definitely didn’t want him to make a scene now.

“Try” He held out the last chocolate frog box for Ryoyu to take it. Ryoyu bowed slightly while carefully taking both of his hands to take the box.

“Thank you” He placed the box on his slap before pulling out a small box himself. He held it out to Domen, again with both of his hands and bowing slightly. Domen hesitated for a moment, before he tried to copy the others movements from before.

“Thank you”

Domen opened the box and spotted three little, white balls. He looked up again, a questioning look on his face.

“Mochi. Is very good. Please try.”

Domen nodded and picked up one of the balls and tried it. For a moment he thought he didn’t like it, but the longer he had it in his mouth, the more he started to actually like what he was eating.

“It is really good. Thank you” He nodded at him.

“Now try the chocolate frog!”

Ryoyu nodded as well before he very carefully opened the box. Faster than the boys could react the frog had jumped onto the window. Vojtech managed to catch him before it actually jumped out of it.

“It can’t jump anymore. You can eat it now”

Ryoyu still didn’t seem to really trust the concept. He brought the frog up to his mouth and closed his eyes before he bit off the head. He chewed on it, his whole face in wrinkles. He started to slowly relax his face and his lips grew into a smile as he opened his eyes again.

“Good” The other boys laughed, even Timi had started to ignore the fact that this boy in front of them was everything they had been brought up to hate.

“What card did you get?” Vojtech asked, visibly thrilled to learn which witch or wizard he had gotten.

Ryoyu fingered the card out of the box and looked at it for a second, before he turned it around for them to see. On the card was a portrait of a young witch with long and curly brown hair.

“Hermione Granger”

Through the remaining time on the train, the five boys kept chatting about everything an nothing. Vojtech was a halfblood from Czechia and his parents had moved to London because his father had been given a job at the ministry as the Czech ambassador. Both Ryoyu and Naoki’s families came from the same Japanese island, Hokkaido. Ryoyu’s family had only moved to England last winter and it was a bit of a shock for them when the letter had arrived. Though Ryoyu was a fast learner, his English wasn’t yet good enough to keep up with them throughout the whole conversation and Naoki had to play the translator a few times. But overall, the four of them got along quite nicely. Internally, Domen was praying that they could become friends.

#ski jumping #ski jumping fic #my work #my fic #hogwarts au #year one

21 notes · View notes