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official-weasley · 3 years

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Headcanon time (Part 4)

I can't believe I am back! I have been away for such a long time (almost 2 months since I posted any of my content I have been told) and I missed writing so much (even though it felt good to take a break too) so I decided to return with a Charlie HC since I love writing these and it's something lighter to come back with 💙

Nobody’s going to tell me that with the amount of knowledge Charles Weasley possessed about animals that he wasn’t invited to teach Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t something Charlie ever thought about doing – even though there were moments when he reached his fifties when he wondered what will he do if he ever gets too old for dragons. Just the thought sent shivers down his spine but he had to at least think of the possibility.

Charlie Weasley loved his job more than any of the Weasley siblings loved theirs. He was proud of every scar and bruise he had and he worked hard to get to where he is. He blew people in the Sanctuary away on the first day of him working there because they haven’t had such a talented lad in quite a while.

Everybody wanted him on his team and even though he was quite a popular sibling in the house he couldn’t deny that the amount of attention and praise he got from his co-workers felt nice.

He loved working in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary – so much so that when they offered him a job in both Chinese and Swedish Sanctuary he turned them down. Not that he didn’t like working with Chinese Fireballs but he liked his variety of dragons more – always said that it kept things interesting being surrounded by so many breeds.

With that being said he did not expect to get a letter one morning from his former Head of House (now Headmistress).

He stared at the closed envelope for a minute more than necessary and no matter how much he tried figuring out what she could possibly want from him he couldn’t and the curiosity got the better of him.

He breezed through the letter, his eyes stopping at the signature just for a moment before flicking back up to the beginning so he could read the letter – slower this time – as he couldn’t believe what he was reading.

Hagrid has taken his first proper vacation and they need someone to fill in for him for 2 weeks?

And out of all the amazing teachers and acquaintances the school had the Headmistress thought of him? But he only knows about dragons? Like REALLY knows. He is knowledgeable about every creature in the book but he isn’t confident about teaching about them.

He never taught anything in his life – maybe a newbie here and there but that’s different!

Charlie tossed the letter in a drawer in the hopes that he would remember to reply to Professor McGonagall in the morning and kindly decline her offer.

Of course, the opposite happened – he couldn’t sleep all night!

The question Charlie was puzzled with was why? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the offer he got? He loved his job. He loved his routine. He loved his peaceful life in nature surrounded by creatures he adored since he was a kid.

Why would he go to Hogwarts again? He had nice 7 years there – there was nothing to complain about – but he would be lying if he said that he missed the place. Being in his books most days he didn’t have that many friends and the ones he did have disappeared after the war or he lost contact with them so nothing was connecting him to the place.

Perhaps it’s a thrill of something new?

To do something else.

Or maybe to share his knowledge?

Charlie’s favorite professor was Silvanus Kettleburn and he will never forget him. He remembers when he asked Ron about him but Ron replied that Hagrid is teaching them instead. Charlie was intrigued and wished he had the time to attend one of Hagrid’s lectures – his little brother, however, wasn’t so impressed.

He loved to listen to Hagrid and only Bill knows that he was probably Charlie’s best friend while at school. If Hagrid went for a vacation and Charlie was the next best thing – he couldn’t even imagine what an honor that is.

Hagrid!

That’s it! He wants to take the job for Hagrid’s sake – so he can take a proper vacation!

Without thinking twice about it, Charlie stood up and replied to Professor McGonagall. It’s only for two weeks, how hard can it be?

Charlie decided to take the Hogwarts Express to the school – purely for nostalgia and definitely not because he doesn’t like apparition.

The second the train conductor told him that they will arrive in 10 minutes Charlie’s nerves started to kick in.

This was a mistake! Who was he kidding? He can’t be a professor. What if the students don’t listen to him? Or worse –what if they laugh at him or mock him?

The work in the Sanctuary might be difficult at times but at least everybody minded their own business and they never laughed in his face if he made a mistake. But these are students – teenagers – he can’t deal with teenagers, he doesn’t know how!

A carriage was waiting for him at the station and brought him to the castle where his former Head of House greeted him with one of her special smiles. He knew that she appreciated him coming on such short notice and that she couldn’t wait to see how Charlie will do.

She kept saying what a wonderful job he will do and how excited the students are for Hagrid’s temporal replacement and how happy she is that she got such an amazing person for the job.

He, however, couldn’t share her enthusiasm. Charlie didn’t see the qualities she saw in him and couldn’t imagine how could he – with zero experience – be a good teacher.

Charlie thought of expressing this concern but he liked McGonagall too much to wipe that soft smile off her face.

“Will I sleep in Hagrid’s hut?” Charlie asked as they were making their way to the part of the castle Charlie never managed to explore.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Weasley. You will be staying in the teacher’s quarters. You are getting a nice room with a fireplace and a living room.” McGonagall replied and pointed to the door ahead of them.

Charlie was appreciative of the room when he saw it but he couldn’t help but be a bit sad that he can’t stay at Hagrid’s. Charlie wasn’t big on socializing so staying away from other professors and away from the chatter of students in a small hut seemed like a dream.

It didn’t matter that he had a nice room or a very comfy bed. Charlie woke up feeling like a mummy. He couldn’t sleep at all, the nerves kicking in, and it was even worse when he remembered that he didn’t even have a syllabus or any idea what he is about to teach in his first class.

On Monday morning McGonagall calmed his nerves at breakfast and told him that she prepared a list of topics for every year so that he will feel more organized.

Year 3 – Porlocks

Year 4 – Werewolves

Year 5 – Pixies

Year 6 – Dragons

Year 7 – Demiguise

Charlie’s chest felt lighter when he realized that he knew loads of fun facts about all these creatures but he couldn’t help but be the most excited about teaching sixth years about dragons.

He had one hour before his first class to prepare an introduction for Pixies and then talk and teach about them for 2 hours. It seemed like an eternity to talk about a creature like that for 2 hours and since Charlie was never a smooth talker or good at making small talk he began to feel nervous again.

He tried to remember how he was like when he was in his fifth year but failed. He knew that he was nose deep in the books Kettleburn gave him about dragon care but he doesn’t remember much else than that.

Charlie’s legs have never felt so heavy walking down for his first class. He was seconds away from just giving up and going to tell McGonagall he can’t do this when one of the students called for him to wait up.

He stopped walking and turned around to see a girl running toward him. She introduced herself and started asking him questions about the creatures they are going to study. Without letting him answer her first question she bombarded him with the next one about the Dragon Sanctuary and then started to name every creature she is fond of.

This calmed Charlie’s nerves – knowing he had a student just like he was in his first class.

After his second class of the day, he couldn’t believe how amazing the students were. Charlie couldn’t recall his classmates being so interested in Care of Magical Creatures as he was but fourth and seventh-year students were more than happy to listen to him talk about werewolves and demiguise. They also asked loads of questions and didn’t complain at all when Charlie gave them a bunch of homework.

Waking up the next morning, he felt rather confident in his ability to teach. He had nothing but a pleasant experience so far. The professors and students have both been so nice and he couldn’t help but think that he overreacted. Being a professor wasn’t so bad and perhaps if the day comes when he won’t be able to handle dragons anymore he might apply to work here full time or if Hagrid will still work then at least as his assistant.

Charlie was on his way to the last class of his second day. He met every year students except the sixth years. He was walking down the path with a big smile on his face and his chest was filled with confidence – dragons – he has to talk about dragons!

“Good afternoon, students, my name is Charles Weasley and I am your substitute professor until Professor Hagrid returns. We are going to talk about dragons today. Can any of you name 5 breeds of dragons?”

“Aren’t you a Dragonologist, you name the breeds!” One of the students said after a few seconds of silence.

“I am and I know all the breeds that’s why I am asking you.” Charlie wanted to swallow thickly but he also didn’t want to appear weak in front of the first rude student he had.

“Seems to me that you’re avoiding the topic. Are you a fraud?” The student kept pushing.

Charlie couldn’t believe it. The class he was most excited about and it didn’t go well! He looked around, all eyes on him. He won’t let this student ruin this experience and the ability to learn about dragons from a real Dragonologist for everyone else!

“Fine,” he said softly. “Ask me anything you want to know and I will answer. If I get one question wrong you are free for the rest of the lesson. If I get all of them correct you will write a summary of every breed of dragon – half a parchment each – and get detention for talking back at me as you did. Does that seem fair?” Charlie wanted to smirk, a look of triumph on his face, but he had to stay professional.

After a minute of silence – half of the students looking at Charlie and half at the boy who dared to talk back at a professor – they bombarded him with questions.

Charlie answered every question correctly from how many known species there are to how long do the Antipodean Opaleye’s eggs need to hatch and without having to think for 2 seconds about the answer.

The students stared at Charlie in pure awe and admiration and he couldn’t help but notice that even the boy that tried so hard to bring him down on his second day of work looked impressed.

Charles Weasley left that class with his chin high up, feeling confident for his next day, happy and humbled that he took this opportunity and with a student put in detention.

Doing all that in one day, he was now even more sure that he could do this and even though he missed all his dragons back at home in Romania, he couldn’t help but admit that this was a rather nice pace and change of scenery from what he is used to and perhaps – somewhere in the distant future when he will lose a hand and a leg like Kettleburn – he might see himself working like this every single day.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley headcanon

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lalainajanes · 3 years

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For “neighborhood block party” on my bingo card! This one takes place in the same universe as Sweet As (quirky supernatural small town fic in which Caroline’s a dryad who owns a bakery and Klaus is the leader of the local werewolf pack and mates are a thing ;) ) though it’s more of a prequel.

The Fall Festival

Before he’d met Caroline, Klaus’ mornings had fallen into a predictable pattern.

He would wake up at the same time, wander into his kitchen to find a full pot of coffee and a pack member or two. Occasionally, there was an emergency. Sometimes there was an issue where his opinion was wanted. Most often, his visitors would come with a problem that could have been solved without Klaus’ input, though he’d never complained.

Klaus had been an outsider once, had become pack leader when the father he’d never known had died, and Marcel had shown up at his door in Chicago. At the time, Klaus had resented the disruption to his life.

Now, he doesn’t understand how he’d survived so long, locking himself in a cage every month.

His mother had explained his parentage when he’d turned twelve, and it had been revelatory, explained why he’d always struggled to wield even a hint of the power that came naturally to his siblings. Esther had told him what to expect, that he’d be dangerous, but she’d refused to tell Klaus anything about the man who’d passed him the werewolf genes, hadn’t even supplied a name.

The rift in their relationship had begun there, had only widened since. When Klaus had chosen to accept his birthright, he’d ensured he’d never be welcome in the home he’d grown up in. He’d never regretted it.

Most of his siblings happily defy their parents to visit, and the pack had become another sort of family.

Three months after Caroline had opened her shop, Klaus had trekked out into the forest to deal with one of the rare emergencies. A scent had been picked up on a security run two days prior, of a young, unfamiliar wolf.

A wolf who proved to have a gift for hiding.

Klaus and his inner circle had been trying to track the interloper, had to find them before the next full moon. His pack had long-standing agreements with the humans and the various local supernatural sects. A young wolf could have jeopardized the easy peace the town enjoyed without meaning to. Klaus and his pack would have had to pay the price.

Young wolves could not always assert human will over animal instincts, which could be deadly if any prey crossed their paths.

And to a werewolf, just about anyone can be prey.

That morning Klaus had decided to head west to an area of that woods that was dense with trees and wildlife. His pack usually leaves it be, understanding that there would be objections if they were to start messing with the local ecosystems. Besides, it offers little opportunity to run, something a werewolf is always eager to do when given a chance.

He’d been moving slowly and silently, examining the ground for prints that looked similar to the ones they believe belong to the young wolf. He’d frequently paused to see if he could pick up a scent, but he’d grown distracted.

Klaus had come across a grove of trees emanating a strange warmth. Curious, he’d rested his hand on the trunk of one.

Only to have the rough bark shiver under his touch and melt away, growing soft and smooth and scented of cherries and spice rather than earth.

He’d snatched his hand back and turned away as soon as he’d realized what was happening, had awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, and wondered if it would be cowardly to flee. He’d heard rustling, soft footsteps, the glide of fabric over skin. Then a woman’s voice, dripping with amusement, “You can turn around now. I’m dressed.”

Klaus had turned slowly. “My apologies. I was unaware I was trespassing.” He’d averted his eyes, realizing that “dressed” wasn’t entirely accurate. The woman had only slipped on a robe, a pale green confection of a garment made from silk and lace, loosely belted and short. He’d looked closely enough to realize she was gorgeous, with a riotous mess of blonde curls framing a flushed face and friendly, curious blue eyes.

His body had reacted, and Klaus had forced himself to begin breathing through his mouth. Her scent had clouded his thoughts, tempted him to step closer.

He hadn’t understood what was happening, why he was reacting so strongly to a stranger.

Klaus might have grown particular about who he invited into his bed, but he was hardly inexperienced or prone to awkwardness in the presence of beautiful women.

He’d gone a little wild when he’d become pack leader five years ago, had freely partaken in pleasure just about any time it was offered. Offers were still coming, but Klaus had largely lost interest, leery of complications that could occur with attachments. At the time, he’d only occasionally indulged when an alluring visitor caught his eyes.

Which hadn’t happened in months.

Why was this woman, not even a wolf, so very compelling?

When he’d clasped his hands behind his back and carefully fixed his attention to just above her forehead, she’d made a noise, an aborted laugh. “Wow, never met a shy werewolf before. You guys are usually super quick to get naked.”

Klaus’ eyes had swung to hers, shocked and a touch suspicious, “How do you know I’m a werewolf?”

Her head had tilted towards the trees, “It’s hard to explain. When I’m in that form, connected to the ground, there’s a heightened amount of intuition. Most supernatural beings pull power from some variety of natural elements, and I can usually tell which one, feel the energy.”

“You’re a dryad,” he’d said slowly. He’d remembered reading about them as a child, in one of his mother’s books. An old, thick tome, with tiny print, that detailed the origin stories of all the known species that walked the earth. He hadn’t recalled much more than the basics, had made a mental note to check if the library in his home had a similar volume.

“Guilty,” she’d chirped. She’d held out her hand, “Caroline Forbes. I bought the bakery in town a couple of months ago. You should stop by sometime.”

He’d shaken her hand, that contact enough to ensure Caroline would never stray from Klaus’ thoughts for long.

That brief brush of her skin on his had spurred a change in Klaus’ morning pattern.

He’d visited Caroline’s bakery the next day. Had rolled out of bed, earlier than he had since he’d been obligated to attend morning meetings, and driven to town. Caroline’s business had been easy to spot, featuring a cheerful striped awning in the same shade of green of the robe Klaus had spent far too many minutes contemplating.

He’d slid into a booth shortly after Caroline had opened up. She’d noticed him, appeared pleased to see him and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

And thus began a new routine.

* * * * *

Caroline smiles at Klaus as soon as he arrives. His face immediately grows suspicious.

Oops. She might have overdone it. Klaus is weirdly adept at spotting ulterior motives, and Caroline needs a teeny, tiny favor.

Which is not to say that she doesn’t look forward to his morning visits. More often than not, they’re the highlight of her day. She happens to have gotten a delivery late yesterday afternoon, one that’s essential to pulling off something she’s been working on for ages, so she’s particularly excited about it. She needs to borrow Klaus’ artistic skills to realize her vision.

That she’ll get to spend a little extra time with him is just a bonus.

He walks up to the counter and leans against it. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

She tilts her head to the side, uses her sweetest tone, “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be accusing me of such a thing?”

She spots the twitch at the corner of his mouth though he maintains an impressively deadpan expression. “Honestly, I suspect you’re usually plotting something.”

Caroline had to give him that one, “Okay, true. I might need a hand from someone who’s more artistically inclined than I am. AKA you.”

“What can I do for you?”

She smiles again, kind of glad that there’s a counter between them because Klaus’ lack of hesitation has her feeling all sorts of fuzzy things, and she very well might have thrown herself at him.

Which is not a thing that they do, though she’s hoping that changes at some point.

“I bought some lights and paint for the window. I splurged on it because it’s supposed to be really pretty, kind of sheer, and shimmery. I was hoping to paint some leaves and vines around the borders of the window, but my test runs were… subpar.”

“Still a bit upset about the Summer Solstice party then?”

Caroline glares without any real ire, “Shh. You know that’s a sore subject!”

She’d been woefully unprepared for just how serious the town took its celebrations. The Summer Solstice had been her first one. She’d nailed the food, had baked up tiny, fluffy meringues, served them with a vanilla peach compote, topped with fresh whipped cream and toasted almonds. Everyone had raved about them. But a few people – mostly the members of the town council who are generally unpleasant and excessively gossipy, in Caroline’s not at all biased opinion – had made snide remarks about her lack of decorations.

She’d been mortified even though it totally hadn’t been her fault. She’d miscalculated, not yet grasping just freaking slow the mail was. She’d had a ton of fresh flowers, but the paper lanterns and candy-colored trays and linens she’d ordered had arrived two days too late.

Caroline’s determined to do better this time and prove that party planning is her super-power, damn it.

Klaus is shrugging out of his jacket, “Show me to the supplies, love.”

“You’re the best!” she exclaims, reaching over to flip up the top of the counter. “Come on, it’s all in my office. Along with my very bad diagrams but feel free only to use them as a guideline. Far be it for little ‘ol me to tell a professional artiste what to paint.”

“Willing to cede control?” he teases. “Shocking.”

Caroline shrugs, “Guess I must trust you.”

Whoops. Caroline means it, but it’s a weighty thing to say.

Klaus has stepped passed the counter, bent to stash his jacket underneath. He freezes, head bowing before he up back at her. “I’m pleased to hear that,” he replies.

Caroline’s teeth sink into her lower lip, and she glances around. A few people are watching her curiously and, though she hates it, she knows now is not the time to dig into anything serious.

Though she’s not sure how much longer she’ll be able to resist.

Caroline clears her throat, heading to her office. She unlocks the door, stepping back to gesture Klaus go in first. She turns around to check that April’s come out from the kitchen, motions that she’ll be back out in ten, and then she joins Klaus.

He’s eyeing the sofa, “How often do you sleep here, sweetheart?”

“How do you… oh, right. Werewolf.”

Caroline’s pretty careful not to think about Klaus’ senses. Intellectually she knows he can probably sniff out all sorts of secrets, that the way she reacts to him is entirely unsubtle. She lives in purposeful denial to avoid melting into a puddle of mortification.

“Rarely. I did it a lot when I was scrambling to get this place opened. Now it’s pretty much just the night of the full moon, or the odd day when there’s a big complicated order.”

“Why the full moon?”

Caroline snorts, “Has it escaped your notice that you guys pack away a ton of food after the full moon? It’s my most profitable day of the month.”

She leans down and hefts the box of paint. Klaus steps forward, “Here, let me.”

Caroline lets him take it off her hands, “You know I’m probably at least as strong as you are, right?”

“I had read that, yes.” His eyes flit over her speculatively, and not for the first time in his presence, she thinks about how nice it would be if telepathy were in her bag of tricks. She knows what she hopes he’s thinking. Caroline’s been spinning fantasies that run the gamut from sweet and sensual to hot and frantic since Klaus first wandered into her grove. She’s pretty confident her interest is reciprocated, but he gives her mixed signals.

Caroline’s naturally tactile. She tends to crank that up when she’s in flirt mode. Klaus is careful to stay at a polite distance. He doesn’t cringe when she touches him, but he doesn’t touch her back either.

It’s confusing.

Caroline had gotten tipsy and whiny about the situation last weekend at the bar. Bonnie had been sympathetic and knowing, refused to spill what she clearly knew. Bonnie had only said, in that infuriatingly cryptic way witches have, that Caroline would figure it out when the time was right.

She and Bonnie haven’t known each other long, but Caroline had sensed she wouldn’t budge. She’d pouted until Enzo had arrived with shots.

Things had gotten a little hazy after that.

“Ah, so you’re just gentlemanly?” Caroline teases, watching as Klaus sets the box on her desk. He’s focused on it, so she takes the opportunity to ogle a little. His grey t-shirt is thin and snug. She’s going to be thinking about the way his muscles shift underneath it when she’s alone.

“Something like that.”

“Well, never let it be said that Caroline Forbes doesn’t pay her debts. I’ll save you a bunch of the desserts I’m making for the festival. I’ve perfected them over the last few days – pumpkin with pecan crumble, a delicious marriage of the best fall pies.”

He shakes his head, a laugh rumbling from low in his throat. “Sounds delicious. Perhaps you’ll save me a dance? There’s always a bonfire once the shops close down.”

Huh. That seems like an unmistakable signal. One Caroline hadn’t expected.

She swallows her initial instinct, the urge to joke about how Klaus must have decided she doesn’t have cooties after all. Caroline licks her lips, wonders if he can hear that her heartbeat has quickened. “I’ll make sure my dance card has a spot for you.”

* * * * *

Klaus finds Marcel in the living room when he comes downstairs on the night of the fall festival. He stops short, dread growing in his stomach. He’d spoken to Marcel earlier, and he hadn’t mentioned stopping by. “What happened?”

Marcel’s eyes narrow, “Is that a new sweater?”

Klaus doesn’t understand how that’s relevant to Marcel’s presence in his home.

He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. Marcel grins, “Alright, not in a talkative mood. Heard. No disaster, don’t worry. I added an extra few cases of wine to the regular order last month, remember? Just here to grab them for the festival.”

Right. The pack operates several businesses but nothing with a storefront in town. On festival nights, the shops on Main Street decorate and offer free food or small gifts to anyone who wanders in. The town council covers the food available in the square, and Klaus’ pack supplies a significant portion of the booze (only fair since Klaus is quite sure they partake more than most). For this one, if he remembers correctly, they’re providing mulled wine and spiked hot chocolate while Enzo’s bar will set up kegs.

Klaus nods, relaxing. He glances at the clock on the wall. “I trust you can handle the delivery yourself?”

“Why, got a hot date? I don’t remember you ever doing much more than making an appearance at one of these things. This eagerness to arrive early is interesting.”

Marcel sounds far too knowing. To an extent, as the pack’s second in command, it’s his job to know Klaus’ business. He suspects what Caroline means to Klaus, that his wolf has chosen her, but Klaus has never confirmed it.

He’s been resisting the pull, exerting iron control over his instincts, maintaining a careful amount of distance even when he ached to return her affectionate overtures. And it’s not because he doesn’t want her, but because the bond is permanent. Unbreakable, once it’s solidified.

Klaus’ path is set. Caroline’s not bound by the same magic, not unless she wants to be.

“Obviously, you have this under control,” Klaus says, spinning on his heel. “Lock the door when you leave.”

Marcel’s laughter follows him out of the house.

* * * * *

Caroline’s nervous. More nervous than she’s ever been before a date, and it’s not even a date. She’d selected her outfit carefully. Her cream sweater dress has a wide neckline that’s prone to slipping off her shoulders. She’d selected dark tights for underneath and thigh-high boots, which are saved from being too risqué for a family-friendly event by their minimal heel.

She’s been getting compliments all evening, had smiled politely. She’d picked the outfit with one person in mind.

At nine, Caroline locks up, rushing into her office to let her hair down and touch up her makeup. A tap on the window comes at 9:06. She tucks a curl behind her ear, takes a deep breath, “You are not fifteen. Get it together,” she mutters to herself before she flicks off the lights.

She waves at Klaus through the window, grabs the small box where she’d packed up the portion of tartlets she’d saved for him and her keys.

Main Street is brighter than usual, street lamps lit and wrapped with strands of tiny white lights. Caroline steps outside, her eyes running over Klaus. He’s changed since this morning into darker jeans and a navy sweater. Is it a date outfit? She kinda thinks so.

“Hi,” Caroline says, impressed it’s not a squeak. She doesn’t trust herself to open with a compliment about how he looks – her brain-to-mouth filter is unreliable even when she’s calm, cool, and collected. Instead, she gestures to the windows, “Your paintings were a hit.”

Klaus doesn’t seem to hear her. He swallows heavily. “You look…” he trails off, but Caroline’s not an idiot. She knows exactly what the tiny ring of gold around his irises means.

Caroline’s grateful for the confirmation that her attraction isn’t at all one-sided. Her cheeks heat, “What, this old thing?”

He reaches for her, and Caroline’s heart stutters, mouth going dry. It’s the first time Klaus has made any sort of move, and it feels like the start of something she’ll want to remember.

Though she’s not capable of explaining that certainty at the moment. Caroline can’t claim to have a quiet mind, she’s capable of laser focus, but there’s usually a whole list of thoughts and questions in the background, each clamoring for attention.

Right now, there’s only Klaus and the shrinking distance between their bodies.

His palm lands on her upper arm, warm even through her sweater. His fingers tighten, skimming down, lingering when they meet the bare skin of her wrist before his palm meets hers.

She exhales shakily, returning the pressure. Caroline sways forward until her knees brush Klaus’, and his free hand clasps hers. He leans forward, and the hint of stubble on his face rasps against her cheek. “You are overwhelmingly lovely,” he murmurs, mouth brushing her temple.

Caroline’s lips part, and she’s seconds away from turning her head and rising to her toes when Klaus takes a half step away. He pivots until they stand shoulder to shoulder. He keeps one of her hands, and Caroline follows his lead when he begins to walk towards the town’s center.

She barely registers her surroundings, couldn’t name any of the people they pass or describe the decorations. She only feels Klaus’ hand, the solid strength of him next to her, is only aware of the addictive mix of comfort and anticipation fizzing through her veins.

He pulls her into his arms when they reach the makeshift dancefloor next to the bonfire.

It doesn’t feel like a first dance.

There’s no awkward shuffling or hesitant hand placement. Klaus’ grip on her changes, fingers threading between hers, and he wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline’s body melts into Klaus’, her hand rising to rest against his chest. She shivers when his head dips, his breath skimming across her bare shoulder.

There’s music, but it’s not important. She and Klaus move together seamlessly, closer than they probably should be in public, lost in their own world.

No one dares to disturb them.

#klaroline #klarosummerbingo #klaroline fanfiction

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bisexualsforprompto · 3 years

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Secret Santa Piece

Merry Christmas Nieri! @myblacknightworld I was your ss for @maribat-secret-santa-2020

Hope you enjoy this! (Also I had more planned out so I’m thinking of making a part 2, lmk if you’d like me to Nieri)

All monsters were evil and terrible creatures that needed to be brought down. That’s what Damian was taught since birth. He learned how to trap monsters and kill them with his mother, but killing was quickly replaced with simply capturing once he went to live with his father.

Track, trap, capture, repeat. The same old song and dance every time. Thankless work really, especially because his identity as a Junior Hunter was a secret, but he was helping the human race by locking up these monsters. That was enough for him at the moment.

Damian had hoped to graduate from his ‘junior’ title sooner rather than later though. It was so agitating to be lumped in with amateurs, sheep, who did nothing but follow him blindly.

He should’ve been just a Hunter from the moment he came to live with his father, but according to his siblings, everyone had to go through this ‘junior’ nonsense.

He had been a Junior hunter for six years though. Something had to change. He was good enough, he knew he was. So why wasn’t he getting the title he deserved?

Father never listened to him, always telling him to “be patient” or “ask your brothers and sisters, they had to do the same.”

There was something his father had to be hiding. A secret way to become a Hunter and ditch his junior rank.

He knew that in order to move himself up he’d have to do something mind-blowing, something that was unquestionably beyond the level of a novice to perform.

Luckily, he had the perfect plan.

Capture the elusive Ladybug Witch.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As per the usual, Marinette was running late. She had stayed up late last night trying to concoct the perfect brew for Rose, who had gotten a cold just before a Kitty Section concert. It wasn’t easy, Marinette usually based her potions off of currently existing medicine, but there were very few medicines effective against the common cold. She spent hours paging through her spell book, consulting her old master’s spell book and even bothering her familiar in the middle of the night (though Adrien claimed he was happy to help).

After an exhausting, sleepless night, she managed to do it. It took a lot out of her, but when she finally trudged herself to school she smiled. The look on Rose’s face was worth it.

Rose had been so excited she almost transformed into her siren form, which could’ve been disastrous. Rose’s songs in her mythical form were just as loud as her usual voice. Humans would probably be attracted to the school and that wouldn’t do at all.

Their school, strictly for mythical creatures to have a safe and happy education, was barely known to the outside world. Most mythics lived in Paris or somewhere near, it was a safe haven free from hunters. But of course, nobody could stop humans from living in Paris, and in order to keep Paris the safe haven it boasted to be; mythic-only places had to be secret.

Marinette knew that her reputation as a witch spread across the globe, people calling her the “Lucky Witch,” “Ladybug Witch,” or some other variation. She had her identity sealed off by powerful magic; one would have to be extremely talented or well-connected to get past it. Still, if even one person found out: game over. Marinette lived to help people, ever since she was a child all she wanted was to help others, but she couldn’t do that if the self-proclaimed “monster hunters” killed or captured her.

She genuinely wanted to believe that everyone had a good side, but she refused to risk the fates of others on gut feelings.

Sighing, Marinette felt herself enter into a tired daze. She hadn’t even realized that she fell asleep until she felt Alya poke her on the head.

“You okay, girl?”

Opening her eyes slowly, Marinette nodded. She straightened herself out, “Yeah, I’m fine—hey where did everyone go?”

Alya giggled, “School is over, Marinette. You slept through everything!”

“WHAT?!” Marinette shot herself up, glancing up at the clock in the class that did in fact say: classes were over. Marinette slumped back down into her seat and banged her head on the desk. She let out a long groan.

“C’mon,” Alya said, helping Marinette up, “You better get home, and maybe go to bed early tonight! Or else this will just happen again…”

“I will, I will.” Marinette huffed, “Believe it not—I’m still tired.” As if on cue, she yawned.

“Get home safe, okay?” Alya said, patting her friend’s head, “Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette said, slowly trudging out of class as Alya walked away.

Marinette found herself walking down her street in just the blink of an eye. She yawned slightly and began to stretch. She saw a flash of white in her vision. She stopped mid-stretch. “Huh?”

A small white cat waltzed up to her, limping. Marinette noticed it’s broken leg right away. “You okay there little guy?”

She reached down to pet it and soothed it, “It’s okay.” The cat purred. Marinette dropped to her knees. She quickly surveyed the area making sure no one was around.

The street seemed deserted save for herself and the cat. She pulled her backpack off and unzipped it. Inside was a large book, her spell book. She slowly lifted it out, trying not to make any sudden movements and scare the cat.

Flipping open to the page she needed, she placed a palm on the cat’s bad leg. She muttered a short incantation. The leg was soon swarmed by a pink glow and little ladybugs.

The cat mewled with happiness, giving Marinette a nudge of gratitude before scampering off.

Marinette picked herself off, about to go home when she suddenly heard a yowling followed by a human hiss.

She tilted her head to the side and slowly crept out to see the commotion.

The cat she had just saved had scratched a boy. A boy who was staring at her like a deer caught in headlights.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Damian hadn’t meant to lose sight of the mission so quickly. He was looking for the Ladybug Witch in Paris, or, Marinette Dupain-Chang. It wasn’t that hard to figure out her identity. He was able to break her silly seal on her identity by contacting his exorcist acquaintance: Jon Kent.

Jon gave him some kind of anti-magic charm which Damian used to break the seal. All kinds of magic nonsense that Damian didn’t care to understand.

But even dealing with magic and Jon had been worth it when the name “Marinette” became clear. Damian rushed over to Paris right when he found out; totally not stealing his father’s jet (oh well—his father wouldn’t care when he brought him the Ladybug Witch).

He had stationed himself right next to the witch’s school, just far enough away to be inconspicuous, but still spot her.

Damian watched as several abominations left the school, he could tell they were monsters immediately: just having that evil aura about them.

But they weren’t the mission. Giving his father intel about a whole school for monsters would surely help him move ranks, but it wouldn’t grant him the instantaneous promotion he so desired.

He waited for the witch, seeing no one who looked like her exit the school. Soon, only one person was trickling out of the school: not his target.

Damian huffed, putting down his binoculars. Suddenly he heard a rustling towards him: it wasn’t the evil witch rather the opposite.

A good cat.

Damian hid a smile, slowly extending his hand to pet it. The cat shrieked and ran away, though, with a limp.

Damian slowly began to follow it, an injured cat wouldn’t do on his watch. If he could just get a little bit closer…

He didn’t want to scare the cat, but he didn’t want it to scamper off before he could help it.

Damian let out a low sigh, deciding to stop near an alley he saw it walk past. He figured maybe if he laid low and hid for a second, the cat might circle back.

He sat still in the greenery, waiting for the cat to come. After a while he heard some faint voice say something intelligible. He peeked through a corner to see the cat, and some girl. Some girl performing magic…

Damian resisted the urge to gasp: it was the Ladybug Witch. He observed the situation, feeling direly like he should go in and stop what was happening. The witch seemed to be chanting a spell on the poor cat, who knows what it could do…

Before he let himself jump in though, he saw a swarm of ladybugs surround the cat, and just like that: it walked off.

No broken leg.

So the witch had healed the cat? How odd...Were her boons only again humans? Why would she save an animal?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed that the cat had come to him and scratched him, not till his body let out a hiss.

He froze. He heard footsteps moving towards him.

He wasn’t ready to capture her! He needed more intel first! His mind went haywire as the witch approached closer. Suddenly, she was facing him directly.

Damian lept backwards, “Stay back, Witch.”

The girl’s eyes flashed with panic for a minute before focusing on him, “You’re hurt.”

Damian nodded, “Don't think this makes me an easy target. I am here to capture you: Ladybug Witch, and I will accomplish my goal.”

The witch looked at him sympathetically, “I’m not going to hurt you, just—here…”

She whispered something underneath her breath. Ladybugs swooped around him, seemingly attacking his stretched arm. He tried to swat them away to no avail, but no luck.

They disappeared on their own just after. And just as they had disappeared, so had his scar, and all the pain…

Damian marveled in wonder at the new feeling. He let out a yelp of surprise, “What did you do?!”

“Please be calm,” she stated, “I only healed you.”

She gave him a warm smile, “I’m Marinette, and you?”

“Not interested, did you not hear me say I’m here to capture you? I’m a hunter.”

The witch sighed, “I know, I just thought…”

“That you could brainwash me with your magic?!” Damian yelled.

Marinette stared at him quizzically before bursting out with laughter. Damian felt his cheeks go hot, he folded his arms.

“Is that what you humans really think of us?”

“Witches are monsters and evil so forgive me for being cautious.” Damian said sarcastically.

She looked sad at that, “Evil?” She asked out loud.

“Yes,” Damian stated, “your kind has tortured ours for generations.”

The witch looked angry at that, “That’s not true! Was it not so long ago that so-called monsters and humans lived in harmony?! We have never taunted your kind, you taunted ours. Why do you think I kept my identity a secret?”

“So no one knows of your misdoings.”

Hurt flooded her bluebell eyes, “I only want to help people.”

“So do I!” Damian shouted.

“So...we’re after the same thing?”

“We are certainly not!” Damian exclaimed, “Monsters are evil and hunters are good. You want to help no one but yourself.”

“Then why would I help you?!”

“To give me a false sense of security!”

“You are absolutely...impossible!” The witch said, tugging at her hair. She sighed, “Come on.”

“Huh?” Damian asked, feeling her take him gently by the arm, “Where are you taking me? Unhand me!”

“Let me show you that monsters aren’t bad, please. If you still think they are once I am done, I will let you capture me.”

“Fine, I suppose…” He glared at her, “But if you try anything I won’t hesitate to—“

Rolling her eyes, the Ladybug Witch scoffed and waved her hand, “Yes, yes, I know.”

Slowly, they began to walk through the city. More and more people seemed to pass by as they walked for what felt like hours until they reached their destination. A small, deserted alleyway.

Damian would be lying if he said the locale didn’t make him skeptical.

“Marinette!” Someone shouted, a blaze of black dashing towards them before leaping into said woman’s arms. Damian was more than shocked to see a purring boy with cat ears and a tail snuggled into Marinette’s arms.

The cat boy suddenly darted his piercing green eyes back at Damian. He opened his mouth, showing his fangs, and hissed. Marinette bapped him on the head, “He’s a friend. Stand down, Kitty.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I’m a friend but—“ Damian ceased his murmur when cut off with a glare from both Marinette and the boy in her arms.

“Uhm hunter, this is Adrien. He’s my familiar.”

“Hunter? That’s a weird name,” Adrien mused to himself. Marinette sucked in a breath. He shrugged, “Nice to meet you Hunter.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “My name isn’t Hunter, that’s just my title. I am Damian Wayne, monster hunter.”

Adrien stared back at Marinette in disbelief, “A hunter?! What were you thinking bringing a hunter here?!”

Marinette sighed, “Damian thinks that monsters are all horrible creatures—“

“That’s not true!” Adrien yelled, “Mythics are just peaceful creatures! Hunters are the ones destroying that peace.”

Marinette went on, “So I wanted to show him that not all monsters are bad.”

Adrien perked up, “Oh, well that’s easy! Glad you’re having an open mind, Damian!” He lept to Damian, hugging him.

Looking disgusted, Damian pushed Adrien off, “Great, now can we get on with this?”

Marinette nodded, “Yes, I brought you here because this is where Adrien and I start our patrol. I want you to watch us work, then you can see we save mythics and humans alike, and these so-called monsters in Paris are really just kind creatures.”

“Fine, but our deal still stands, if I see even one suspicious thing from a monster…”

“Deal? What’s he talking about Mari?” Adrien asked, looking up at his counterpart.

Marinette rubbed her temples, and muttered, “I said that if he didn’t believe me I’d let him capture me.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

“Calm down Adrien,” Marinette smiled, “We only have to do what we always do. We’ll be fine.” She squeezed his paw lightly. “Ready to fully transform?”

“I guess,” Adrien said, “But I don’t like this.”

Adrien then shifted into a fully black cat. He jumped onto Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette reached for a ladder in the alleyway, “Ready Damian?”

“Yes…” Damian said, puzzled, “But do you not have a broomstick to ride on.”

Marinette giggled, “No! That’s a misconception. Witches can perform levitation spells, but I much prefer to survey from rooftops rather than the sky. It’s scary way up there.”

She shuddered, then began to climb the ladder, Adrien tucked into her arm. Damian eyed the pair then slowly followed after them.

They quickly arrived on a tall roof, overlooking a good portion of the city. Breathing in the fresh air, Marinette placed Adrien down, giving him room to switch back. She looked into the horizon and clutched her spellbook to her chest

“Now what?” Damian asked impatiently.

“I’m going to cast a spell that lets me have the ability to hear things all over the city so I can listen for those who need help.” Marinette said paging through her book. She whispered a short phrase in a foreign tongue and cupped her eyes.

After a brief pause Damian tsked, “Doesn’t seem to be working.”

Adrien smirked, “It is, just let her work her magic.”

With a gasp Marinette uncupped her ears, “A mugging in an alley south of the Louvre.”

“Got it!” Adrien exclaimed, turning into cat form and leaping into the distance.

“Hold on to me,” Marinette said, extending her hand.

Damian looked at it skeptically, “Why?”

“I’m going to teleport us there, I have Adrien scout everything out beforehand. Since we’re connected he can speak to me telepathically and let me know the best time to get the drop on the bad guy.”

Still eyeing her suspiciously, Damian gingerly took her hand.

“It’s time,” she breathed, “Hold tight.”

In a flash they appeared behind a buff middle aged man attacking a younger boy. Marinette sprung into action, casting a quick spell to tie the attacker up. Adrien appeared at her side quickly and shifted, carrying the would-be mugger out into the open.

“T-thank you,” the boy stuttered, “But...how did you? Are you magical or something?”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and took both Adrien and Damian’s hands, teleporting away.

Damian gaped at her when they arrived back to the familiar rooftop, “You saved a human.”

Marinette nodded, “I save anyone in need, no matter what species. Everyone deserves help; ‘all that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’ I was telling the truth when I said mythics weren’t evil.”

Damian huffed, “What exactly am I supposed to think? My whole life I’ve been told monsters are evil, what makes you think one act would convince me otherwise?”

“Because I believe in you.” Marinette took his hand in her own, “I know you want to believe it, you’re a good person at heart: I can see it. Just trust me, please.”

Damian hesitated before scowling and giving her a slight nod.

Marinette smiled brightly. Damian looked up at her, it was surely not the smile of evil.

#maribat #daminette #also could be read as platonic #maribat secret santa #mythics and hunters au

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

to have and to hold

request from nonnie: Hey I'm 17 and still sleep with stuffed animals.... can you write something where George finds out and teases you about it? I know I'm a bit weird but I cuddle in my sleep so it's hoard stuffed animals or kidnap my cat (dangerous).

word count: 3.3k

pairing: george x reader

A/N: y’all i love this—totally nothing wrong with sleeping with stuffed animals, THEY’RE SO CUDDLY! and that’s what they’re for! thank you for reading and requesting, i’m so grateful for you all, and in case anyone’s wondering, i’m still irrevocably head over heels for these silly boys. also the title’s a tad misleading but there’s no marriage in this but it’s definitely all FLUFF because i’m a dork

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added darlings!

The Sorting Hat cries Ravenclaw! as a young, brown haired girl jumps from the stool and gleefully makes her way over to her respective House table.

Everyone begins to clap, and although he doesn’t feel much like it, George does too.

He’s a bit taken aback when you say to him suddenly, “I can’t believe that was us only a few short years ago.”

Just a few months ago, it seemed as though your seventh and final year at Hogwarts was still a long while away. It couldn’t be creeping up that quickly, could it? You both met only six years ago in Transfiguration, but it feels like a lifetime. George grins at the memory. But now, sitting and watching the newest first years get placed into their Houses, he’s feeling the nerves of the finality of it all—even though you’re not there yet. Not exactly.

“Strange, isn’t it?” he asks you, watching another student jump up excitedly and run to the Hufflepuff table. More claps ensue. “There’s no way this is our last year here, right? We must be dreaming, or something.”

A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips, and George feels his insides go warm. “Of course,” you reply, “we’re dreaming.”

“Would you two quit being so melancholy?” Fred takes you by surprise when he kicks both of you underneath the table. “It’s our final year! It’s exciting! We’ve got loads of mischief planned, Y/N, and we expect your help.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to get out of this, is there?”

The twins smile and chorus together, “Nope.” before diving head first into the feast that’s just appeared in front of you all.

“Ah well—it is exciting, isn’t it? We’ve got a lot to look forward to!” you tell them, cutting into the piece of chicken on your plate, “and besides.. with whatever you two have planned? I reckon I’m bound for some type of adventure. Things could be worse, right?”

Just then, a sickeningly sinister giggle emits from the front of the Great Hall; the three of you look at a woman dressed in all pink, whose face resembles that of an old toad, chatting animatedly with Dumbledore who’s looking positively woebegone.

“Ugh,” you say, looking back and forth between the twins, “maybe I’ve spoken too soon.”

— -

You’re tiptoeing next to George in the middle of the corridor; you keep whirling around to check if anyone’s behind you. Months, you’ve been doing this. He can’t help but grin at your flustered state. “D’you really think this is a good idea?” you ask him stealthily as the two of you meander throughout the castle halls.

“Of course,” he replies, squeezing your hand. But inside, he’s just not entirely sure. By the sounds of what Harry’s said, getting detention with Umbridge is no walk in the park. He turns back to you and continues, “Don’t worry—Harry knows what he’s doing. Plus, we haven’t been caught yet, have we?” He jabs you in the ribs and teases you, “Where’s that sense of adventure we so admire? Oi, here’s Fred and Ginny.”

Just then, the two Weasley siblings round the bend and quite literally bump into you both. Fred says quietly, “Merlin help me—I can’t ever remember where this bloody room is,”

“Seventh floor, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy,” you reply in a lowered voice, your eyes shifting across the corridors, “so you’ve got a flew floors to go, Freddie.”

Both he and George laugh; Fred continues, “You’d think after months of going to these meetings, I’d remember where it is?”

“Why am I not surprised?” Ginny elbows Fred, teasing him slightly. “C’mon then, let’s go—looks like the coast is clear,”

The four of you make your way up two more flights of steps, sneak past the tapestry, and finally find yourselves inside the Room of Requirement.

It’s an easy lesson today; with the impending Christmas holidays, everyone is in quite a chipper mood—the Room of Requirement has a light, airy feel to it, and everyone seems to be doing their best at all of the defensive magic Harry’s taught so far—even Neville! When he dismisses you for the day, noting that you probably won’t meet again until the New Year, a dramatic groan nearly shakes the room—it seems as though everyone wants to stay.

When you all land back in the common room and take a seat next to the fire, Fred immediately begins to market his and George’s products to a bunch of excited looking Gryffindors; to you, George just shrugs.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you begin, standing up from the couch and gesturing George toward the dormitory, “I think I’ve fixed that little issue with the Fever Fudge.”

George grins broadly; there’s not many people he and Fred trust with their products, but you? You’re basically a third owner. He stops short, though, at the stairs leading up to the girls dormitories. You shake your head and say, “No worry, most everyone’s gone home for the holidays already. Plus—I’ve already hoodwinked whatever spell the professors have cast.”

“So I won’t get caught, then?”

“Nah,” you reply, urging him forward, “I’m strangely brilliant at derailing bits of professional magic,”

He beams at you at this and follows up to the girls dormitory, leaving Fred with a room full of students eager to get their hands on all Weasley products.

It doesn’t look as different from the boys' dorms as he thinks; it’s pretty much the same setup, same four posters, similar looking curtains. He shrugs, thinking, Nothing to worry about, but when he notices you plop down on your bed, he suddenly feels his insides constrict. You pat the spot next to you and say, “Well c’mere, won’t you?”

He places himself down next to you, careful not to mess your very neat bedspread, while he watches you rummage through a bit of your trunk. “Ah—here we are,” you say brightly, pulling out the box of Fever Fudge you’d hidden so as not to be stolen, “good as new, Georgie. The fevers, now, should stop at the appropriate number we’ve discussed—they shouldn’t continue to spike as the evenings go on. Any problems, let me know!”

“You’re brilliant, truly,” he says, peering down at the box of his own inventions. “How did you get so bloody good at this?”

You smile sweetly at him and flip your hair, “Just got lucky, I suppose.”

He laughs and is about to head back downstairs, careful not to mess up anyone’s things, when he spots a little brown bear on your bed near your pillows. His lips curl into a grin, “Erm.. Y/N,” he begins, pointing to the stuffed bear, “what is that?”

Suddenly you jump onto your bed and try to secretly slip this tiny little animal behind all of your pillows. The rosy pink color of your cheeks is evident in the sunlight flooding the windows, “Erm—what’s what, George?”

He places the box of fever fudge down on the table next to your bed, and walks slowly over to you. With a mischievous grin on his face, he continues, “Don’t make me jump on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I would.”

And as soon as he says it, he does it; he flops down dramatically, ruining your very tidy sheets. He begins to poke you in the ribs, a tickling of some sort, to try and get you to move. It seems to work, because he grabs the bear from behind your back and you both fall backwards, next to one another, laughing quite animatedly.

He waits with bated breath for you to explain yourself. “Shove off, Georgie,” you say, stealing the bear back from him, twirling it in your fingers and peering at it. You offer to continue, “My mum gave him to me when I was a baby. When I was born. A little ‘coming home’ gift, if you will.”

“You mean to tell me,” George begins, “that you’ve had this for seventeen years?”

You roll your eyes and stifle a bit of laughter. You roll off of the bed, stand up, and place the bear delicately into your trunk. You pull George into an upright position and say, “This conversation’s over. C’mon—let’s bring Fred the fixed Fever Fudge,”

“This conversation is certainly not over,” he teases.

“It’s a source of comfort, you git!” you reply, slapping him playfully across his chest.

“Comfort,” he echoes through a chuckle, “right. And he’s here now because.. you need comforting after a long Potions lesson with Snape?”

You slap him again as you both begin to laugh. “Yes,” you tell him straightforwardly, “and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, after a long day, I just need something to hug, to hold whilst I sleep, alright? Quit the teasing,”

Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to pull you into an embrace washes over George; he wants, more than anything, to just curl up with you on your bed right now, and to hug you for as long as you need. He’s about to do so, when you pull him by his hand and say, “Oh come on—can’t leave your brother waiting, can we?”

George can’t help himself; he just needs to tease you. Just a little bit more. He begins to tickle your waist when he calls in a sing-song voice down the stairs, “Oh, Freddie!”

You turn and grab his arms; even though he’s feeling rather mischievous, the butterflies are swirling around his stomach, as well. A sinister smirk tugs at the edges of your lips and he feels as though his entire body goes rigid when you wink at him, “Don’t you dare.”

— -

When Ginny enters the portrait hole, she’s surprised to see George slumped in an armchair and not with Fred, off creating some sort of chaotic mischief right underneath Umbridge’s nose.

“No pranks today?” she asks, sinking beside him on the couch.

“Reckon you didn’t see Angelina hanging all over Fred in the Great Hall, then?”

“Guess I must’ve missed it,” she rolls her eyes, and they both smile. “Speaking of—how are things going with Y/N?”

George is slightly taken back; he peers at Ginny with a confused expression and she just shakes her head at him. He knows that everyone else sees right through him, but he never expected his younger sister to bring it up. Guess he’s the type of bloke who wears his heart on his sleeve. “Erm, I mean—things are fine.”

“Things are most certainly not fine. Why haven’t you told her?”

George has been preparing for this—whether it was to come from a sibling or a friend—he knew, down the line, someone would question him as to why you two aren’t together. He slumps back into the couch and twirls his wand in both his hands. “Well—‘cause, we’re leaving soon, aren’t we? Fred and me. Just doesn’t make sense at this point.” He sinks a little lower, and his face turns sullen. “I’ve missed my chance. It’s too late, Gin.”

Just then, you pop inside with Dean and Seamus, giggling animatedly about some silly joke one of them made, and you raise your hand to George and Ginny before quickly heading upstairs to the girls dormitory to change out of your uniforms. There’s a tug at George’s heart—if only he could sneak up there without anyone seeing.

“Hey,” Ginny snaps her fingers at him, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him out of his daydream-like state, “It’s never too late.��

“You think?”

Ginny raises her eyebrows when she notices you coming back down the stairs and making a b-line right toward them. Quietly, she tells him, “I reckon she’ll think the same.”

When you seat yourself down next to them and Ginny quickly changes the conversation, George can’t help but grin goofily at the bunny slippers you have on. You sit yourself comfortably on the couch next to him, cross your legs, and blow lightly on your steaming cup of tea while Ginny relays the story of her brilliant Bat Bogey hex in the last DA meeting to you. Each and every time you smile broadly, George can feel himself shifting closer and closer to you.

— -

“The devil incarnate, she is,” Ron tells his siblings darkly. He peers down at the top of his hand, running his fingers over his silky smooth skin, knowing exactly what is about to happen as the DA prepares for a detention with Umbridge.

Harry shakes his head and replies, “Just try not to think on it all too much. It’ll be over before we know it.” He’s still looking on edge, sleep deprived. The whispers of other members can be heard slightly as Umbridge makes her way down the corridors.

“How is this even legal?”

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore? She can’t possibly get away with this.”

The Great Hall is darker than normal; the hour and a half spent there is some of the most draining George has felt in his entire life. It’s as if the writing alone is setting his soul on fire. Or, perhaps, is it the weak smile and look of pure anguish you give him from a few rows over? He can’t help but feel extremely protective, and he’s shooting daggers at Umbridge each and every chance he gets.

When you’re all finally released, Umbridge giggles in a mocking, satisfied tone. She makes her way back to her office as all of the members of the DA walk begrudgingly back to their common rooms, completely ignoring the apologies of Marietta Edgecombe, who, by the looks of it, is now regretting her decision of giving up the DA to Umbridge.

The Gryffindor common is filled with students looking positively sullen, almost each and every one of them running their fingers over their red, raw, and bloodied hands. George hops through the portrait hole and notices you in the corner, talking animatedly with Ginny and Fred.

“I swear,” Fred’s saying as George sits himself down next to you, “she’s barking mad.”

“You’d think she’d end up in Azkaban after pulling a stunt like this,” you agree, tracing the outline of the cuts on your hand with your finger, “but I reckon she can get away with anything.”

“I reckon you’re right,” George says, leaning his arms on his knees. He takes a deep breath and opts to continue, “how could she possibly get away with something like this?”

Ginny offers, “It’s the bloody Ministry.”

There’s a collective groan from all of you. Ginny shakes her head and continues, “Mum and Dad are going to go wild, you know; this isn’t over. By the way, speaking of Mum and Dad—you two planning on telling them that you’re leaving in a few weeks time?”

George suddenly feels his heart stop. Next to him, you look frantically back and forth between him and Fred, a confused expression plastered across your face. Fred is shaking his head, Ginny’s cheeks are flooding with color, and George is dreading the next conversation.

“You’re—you’re leaving?” you ask, stunned. “When?”

“Gin, we only told you because you overheard us the other night,” Fred says through gritted teeth. Then, he softens and says to George, “but.. I reckon it’s maybe time we tell a few people, eh Georgie?”

“Oh no,” Ginny says sheepishly, looking down at the floor. But you just grin weakly at her as she pulls Fred to his feet and they make their way over to the other end of the common room, most likely to tell Ron of their plans. You hope Ginny isn’t feeling too guilty.

George swallows thickly and then begins, “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head at his apology, “You don’t need to apologize to me.” You place your hand over his and wait with bated breath for him to tell you what’s going on. You smile broadly at him when he begins to explain.

“We’re, erm, heading out a bit early, you see,” George begins, his eyes shifting from yours to the floor, “we’ve got these grand plans for a business to open up—in Diagon Alley, actually.. sell our inventions. Reckon it could become quite successful if we market correctly—”

His heart is thundering against his rib cage, surely trying its best to escape his chest, and he’s nervous that you’re not going to approve, you’re going to be angry, you won’t ever talk to him again. But to his surprise, you throw your arms around him excitedly and pull him into a bone crushing hug. He’s relaxing in your arms as he listens to your squeals of delight, breathing in the scent of your hair, focusing on the way your body feels beneath his fingertips. And when you pull away from him and shake his shoulders slightly, with both a bright smile on your face and tears in your eyes, you tell him, “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re talking quickly, shaking your head admiringly, throwing your hands into the air and running them through your hair, chuckling lightly, blinking quickly to push back any tears rising to the surface, but he can’t even hear what you’re saying. All George can hear is the pounding in his ears from the steady beat of his own heart, and not before long, he’s laughing at your exasperated state and is leaning in to kiss you, pressing his lips gently to yours and melting into something that’s been building up for years and years. The tension and surprise is subsiding, and you’re playing absentmindedly with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and you’re both ignoring the annoying whistles from his siblings near the fireplace, and you’re quite certain that George is making a rather inappropriate hand gesture at them across the room for interrupting your moment.

When you two finally part, George grins broadly at you, his hands still shaking slightly due to the adrenaline rush and he asks you, not bothering to answer Fred’s whistles at all, “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?!” you cry out, still obviously rather electrified from both the news and the kiss, “No! I’m not mad.. how could I be? I’m so excited for you both. I hope you’ll know I’ll be coming round to visit all the time.”

“Well, you better,” he replies cheekily, pulling at the collar of your shirt. Then, “I’m really going to miss you these last few weeks.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you reply breathlessly, and he now feels a tug at his heartstrings. He’s feeling nervous. Off balance. Do you still want to be with him after he leaves? Can you two survive on letters alone until after you graduate? “Do you, erm—I mean, I know I’m leaving, but—”

You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over the light stubble on his cheeks. A feeling of warmth overtakes him when you grin, peering into his yearning eyes, “We’ll make it work.”

He pulls you into his arms, and the calls from Fred and the others don’t seem to subside in the slightest. “We’re being summoned,” you tell George, leaning back against his chest. You pull out some of their inventions from your own pocket, things they’d given you early on; a pygmy puff, a screaming yo-yo, extendable ears, and more. You begin fiddling with them in your fingers and George grins against your shoulder.

“D’you want to go?”

You intertwine one of your hands in his. “Just hold me for a while first, would you?”

He giggles softly and wraps his arms tighter around you. Teasing begins to bubble up inside him and he can’t help it, he just has to say it. “Don’t you want to go and get your bear first?”

He expects the playful slap across his chest, he grins goofily when you begin to laugh, but what he doesn’t expect is what you say next. He’s practically putty in your hands when he pulls you closer and breaths in your scent when you reply,

“Reckon I don’t need it—I’ve got something else to hold, now.”

reblogs + feedback are always appreciated! thanks for reading darlings, ily so <3

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girls-scenarios · 4 years

Text

Play Pretend

Idol: Minju (IZ*ONE)

Prompt: Heyy could I ask for a scenario of Izone Minju coming over to help her crush take care of their little sister, who forces them to roleplay with them. She insists that they are a couple, and neither of them want to be the one to deny it:)) thanks in advance

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: This idea is so cute! Both the reader and Minju are in high school in the scenario since it just made sense that way. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! (BTW, (Y/S/N) stands for your sibling’s name in this scenario.)

♡ Tip Jar♡

Had anyone else asked Minju to give up her Friday night to babysit some kid, she would have quickly made up an excuse to say no. After all, babysitting wasn’t exactly her idea of fun, not when her friends were going to hand out at the carnival. But it was you asking and she could never say no to you. Especially not when you had sighed sadly after saying you couldn’t hang out and said you wished you had someone to keep you company. Without thinking, she had immediately volunteered to help you babysit, a bit too caught up in the idea of making you happy and spending the entire evening alone with you in your house.

Now that she stood in front of your door, though, imagining the cotton candy that her friends were eating, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t thought of it earlier, but it wasn’t like the two of you were actually going to be alone. Instead, she would be stuck dealing with a kid the entire night instead of having fun with her friends. But it was too late to turn back now, so she put on a smile as your mom opened the door and ushered her inside.

You were sitting with your younger sibling on the couch and you grinned when you saw her, soothing the pain of not getting carnival good just a bit as you jumped from the couch and walked over to greet her.

“Minju, you made it! Thanks for coming, I really appreciate your help,” you said, and she nodded as she nervously glanced around at your family. “(Y/S/N), this is my friend Minju, she’s here to play with us tonight.”

“Yay!” Your little sister jumped up and ran around the room, making your mother laugh as she got ready to go.

“Thank you again for coming over, Minju. I was a little nervous about leaving them alone,” she said, making you blush and groan.

“Mom, don’t tell her that. I’m totally able to take care of us both!”

“I know, I know, it just feels safer to have two of you here. There’s money for takeout on the table, have fun!” With a wave, your mother was gone, leaving the two of you alone with your very excited younger sister.

“(Y/N), Minju, let’s play! Come on, let’s play!”

“Okay, okay,” you said, still looking a little embarrassed. “Go get out the toys you want to play with and Minju and I will meet you in your room, is that okay?”

“Yeah!” Your younger sister ran off and you turned to Minju with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, she’s loud. And my mom’s embarrassing. Um, you can make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?” Somehow, this nervous side of you was cute and Minju found herself smiling.

“It’s okay, I knew what I was signing up for when I offered to help you.”

“I really appreciate it, she’s a handful.” You laughed and the two of you held eye contact for a moment too long, causing her breath to catch until the voice of a very impatient child broke the moment in two.

“(Y/N), Minju!”

You sighed and motioned for Minju to follow you as you headed towards your sister’s room, calling back to her. “Coming!”

Your little sister was adorable, but she was a handful. As soon as Minju entered the room, she was given the task of setting up the tea table and organizing the “home” while you helped your little sister into one of her costumes. She was kept so busy, in fact, that she forgot about the cotton candy and fun thrill rides, focusing instead on setting up the collapsible table your little sister used to play house and allowing her to dress her up. Once she was finally done, your little sister guided you both to sit down at the table and gave you both little teacups, then ran off to find her toys and actions figures, leaving you both to watch her and laugh.

“She’s full of energy,” Minju commented, picking a stray feather from her hair and placing it on the small table. She couldn’t help smiling, even if she was sweating a bit from all the moving around the little girl had just made her do. “I wish I had that energy right now.”

“I know, right? I always say that she should do my homework or chores for me if she’s so full of energy, but for some reason she doesn’t want to.” You adjusted the crown on your head, making both of you burst into laughter.

“What are we supposed to be?”

“I have no idea, she’ll tell us when she gets back.”

As if on cue, the little girl burst back through the door with her arms full of action figures, dolls, and stuffed animals. “I’m back,” she announced in a yell before dumping them all over the floor and making both of you share a knowing glance. This was going to be a pain to pick up.

“What’s all this for?” You asked, and your little sister smiled as she started to set them up around the table.

“They’re your kids!”

You let out a short laugh in surprise, your eyes widening and your cheeks flushing slightly. “My what?”

“Your kids! I’m their auntie and I’m going to feed them cookies and tea and then send them back to you guys all hyper.”

This drew a laugh from Minju, as she could just imagine that the little girl was repeating something her own aunt or uncle had said. “What a good aunt you are! But who am I? You can’t leave me out.”

Your little sister blinked innocently and looked between the two of you before placing a doll right in Minju’s lap. “They’re your kids too,” she said, as if it was a given. “You guys are a couple, remember?” Her words caused both of you to freeze, and Minju could feel her face heating up as she stuttered, trying to find the words she wanted. “U-uh, what?”

“You guys are a couple and you have kids. That’s why I’m the auntie.” Your little sister put her hand on her chest proudly before turning away to grab her play teapot, and Minju dared to look over at you. You were blushing just as hard as she was, and with a sheepish smile you shrugged your shoulders.

“Sorry, I don’t know where she got that idea,” you said, “kids say the weirdest things, right?”

“R-right.” She wasn’t usually shy around you (at least, not anymore) but she could feel some of her shy nature coming back as her heart skipped a beat in her chest. Even if it was just pretend, she liked the idea of being with you a little too much, and she wondered if your sibling was really just making things up. Did the two of you look like a couple?

Just the thought made her blush harder and she swallowed, distracting herself by reaching out for the teapot and pretending to pour everyone tea, wondering if you were imagining the same thing.

The night went by in a blur of messy takeout and excited play. By the time the two of you finally got your sister to go to bed, you were both exhausted, flopping down onto the couch beside each other and groaning in unison.

“I thought she’d never go to sleep,” you said, closing your eyes. “She was even more excited than usual because you were here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get her all hyped up.”

“It’s okay, she was just happy to have someone to play with.” With a small smile, you opened your eyes and turned to look at her. The two of you were only inches apart on the couch, hands almost touching, and Minju once again felt her heart skip a beat as her mouth went dry. “Thanks again for coming over. I’m sorry that you had to miss out on the carnival.”

“It’s okay, really.” She smiled back and shrugged her shoulders, surprised to find that she really didn’t mind. “The carnival is still in down tomorrow, so we can always go then. I actually had fun tonight. Your sister is funny.”

You were quiet for a moment before letting out a laugh and running a hand over your face, turning to face the TV. Some late night show was on, but neither of you were really paying attention to it. “I don’t know why she decided that we were a couple tonight. She just wouldn’t shut up about that.”

“Right?” Minju’s face flushed as she remembered how the little girl had made the two of you feed each other because that was “couples” do, and how she’d asked if the two of you held hands and kissed. “I didn’t realize kids paid attention to that kind of stuff,” she said, trying not to make the air awkward despite the tightness in her chest. Why was having a crush so hard?

“She probably saw it a couple on TV earlier or something. She likes to repeat things.”

“I could tell.”

The two of you lapsed into silence, but there was a slight tension in the air and her mouth felt dry as she watched the dim lights from the TV flicker against your face. Even though the light was on, the room still felt relatively dark and almost cozy. Or at least, it would be cozy if she wasn’t so nervous that she could hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears.

There had been something in the way you looked at her when you fed her, or in the way you gave in and held her hand at your sister’s request without seeming reluctant. Neither of you were pretending. Or was she imagining it all? She wouldn’t put it past herself, and she didn’t want to ruin a friendship just because her feelings got in the way. As she usually did, she started to overthink everything that had happened that night, her mind spiraling, until your voice made her jump slightly, startling her out of her thoughts.

“You know, I didn’t hate it.” Your voice was soft and she wondered if she was imagining things until she looked over and saw the blush on your cheeks.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t hate pretending to be a couple. Or holding hands.” You looked down at your lap, twisting your fingers together. “I, um, wouldn’t mind if it was real.”

Minju took a deep breath to stabilize herself (and to make sure she didn’t say or do anything embarrassing) before she responded. “Are you saying that you wouldn’t mind to date me?”

“Yep.”

Well, this wasn’t how she had imagined things happening. She had imagined confessing to you before, and had gone through all the scenarios in her head of you saying yes or rejecting her or telling her to wait, but in none of those scenarios had you been the one to confess to her first after playing house with your little sister. But a confession was a confession, and she found herself smiling widely, giddiness building in her chest.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind dating you either.”

Finally, you looked back up to lock eyes with her, and a slow smile spread over your face. “So, should we date?”

“I think we should.” Both of you burst into giggles, and she slid closer so that her shoulder was touching yours, making her heart beat faster than ever before. “How about we make the carnival our first date tomorrow?” She asked, her eyes wide and hopeful, and you grinned brightly, leaning back into her. The tension in the air was gone, replaced with the light presence of anticipation.

“I would love that,” you said, then laughed. “I guess I’ll have to thank the little brat for getting us together in her own way.”

“No kidding. Remind me to buy her a toy while we’re out tomorrow, she deserves it!”

As the two of you sat shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing and talking in hushed, sweet voices about how funny this all was, Minju mentally thanked her past self for making that impulsive decision to give up her Friday to babysit with you. She had gone from wondering if this was a mistake to never wanting the night to end, and she didn’t regret a single thing as she rested her head on your shoulder with a contented smile, excited for what the future would bring.

#femifics #izone #iz*one #minju #minjoo #izone minju #izone scenarios #iz*one scenarios #minju scenarios #izone minju scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenario #girl groups #kpop girl groups

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hunnybadgerv · 3 years

Note

For your fandom ask: H, N, S, and Z?

From the Fandom Meme

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.) Most of my fandom source texts are video games. Not sure why, but I don’t get quite as invested in films or TV shows the way I do with video games. And sometimes it happens with books, but only really rarely. I’m not sure why. I mean with books and shows, sometimes I’ve thought about writing things, but I usually don’t end up going through with it. I think because at that point I’m messing with only someone else’s characters and it is hard for me to get invested fully into work that is only the creation of another.

With video games, I get to participate in the world in a manner of speaking. There is an interactivity and engagement inherent to video games that creates a different focus and a buy-in that is not present in other sources, at least for me. I get to create a character and fit them into this world and watch them move through it--and sure they fall along a certain line according to the developers’ plans, but I do get to have a hand in it. It’s the reason I’m a sucker for RPG games.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice) I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what I’d say for any of my fandoms. But I do kind of sit at the edge of my fandoms, all of them. I’m not in the middle of anything in any of them, and I’m perfectly content there because I’m moderate participant at best.

1. I’d really like to see the Saints Row fandom revive itself. It used to be quite a lively and welcoming location. It seems that most of those that remain are the gatekeepers.

2. I’d like to see more respect and inclusion for Faith Seed. There is a group of people in that fandom that like to treat her like she is not part of the family. Despite this tendency in some corners of the Far Cry 5 fandom, most of the people I’m surrounded by also hold that Faith is a valid member of the family who should be included in discussions and representations of the Seed siblings.

3. This question would be so very much easier if I was a more active participant in my fandoms. Overall, I wish more of us, in all my fandoms, were still active on tumblr. A lot of people migrated away. Perhaps if I were more active in other places, I would still be able to reach out to them. Though I know many of them are on Discord, it’s just not a medium that works for my mind. Plus, I’ve kind of been cut off from things so long that I still struggle with maintaining connections with people. It’s something I’m particularly bad at.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged) Okay, so this is more difficult than I anticipated.

I’m both fearing and excited about the Legendary version of Mass Effect releasing in May. I really am looking forward to the graphical update and the game play cleanup. Though I really don’t know that I want to see them adjust the Mako controls, I loved that sketchy thing and the fact that if you tried hard enough you could climb over anything. I loved the Mako in all it’s flaws and fabulousness.

I’m also kind of concerned about the possibility of them altering the story or the characters in some way.

There is a tendency nowadays for fan opinions to be able to alter plans, story, and characters in media. And I really don’t want them to change the franchise in order to meet some loud corner of the fandom. I loved the game as it was, flaws and all. I really fear that they might institute some odd change to suit some rabid corner of the internet that will unravel the fabric of something I’ve loved for so long.

Though in the same vein, I’d love to see some changes here and there. Perhaps the ability to romance Ashley as fShepard, or Kaidan in the ME 1 timeline as mShep. I don’t know. But then again. If I rally for those sorts of changes, then I open myself up to the other potential changes.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged) Hmm. I really enjoy the templar’s lore in Dragon Age, but I wanted to see where else I might be able to take it. I thought, what if there was some magic in templars that allowed them to wield lyrium effectively. And I started doing some reading with old chivalric knights and ideas about knighthood and chivalry in histroy and literature and I wanted to bring that kind of sense into the templars lore, perhaps even a forgotten or overlooked bit of lore for them. And I started playing around with the idea of Templars containing or controlling their own magical ability that is only enhanced by the lyrium. And this kind of happened.

I put it under a cut because it is incredibly long.

Malcolm found his daughter sitting in the grass at the back fence. She had been crying and he was disturbed by the idea that his wife's concern may have been more warranted than he'd given it credit for. He sat next to her and leaned against the fence. "Tell me," he said trying to keep his voice even.

"I don't even know," she said weakly.

Malcolm slid his arm around her shoulders. "Did… did he?" He could barely say it let alone think it.

She shook her head. "No, Father," Aderyn said surprised that he could think that. "I really don't know how to explain it." She wasn't sure how to talk about this with her father. But he was the only person who might be able to help her. She explained some things, though not others. She left out the details about how Cullen had ended up shirtless. "I saw a glow, it was strange. There was no warmth either, which is why I can't figure out how I burned him. I can always feel the glow of fire," she said as she stared at the grass running the event through her head.

"It was a burn?"

"Well, not really. That's what it looked like. And Cullen said something," she said looking up at her father hopefully. "That there was nothing discernable."

"You should have brought him with you."

"What did I do to him?" she asked, clearly concerned. "And how can I control something when I don't know what it is?"

"Did he return to the Chantry?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at her for a moment. "I was scared. No, appalled. I hid. I …"

"I'm sorry I can't assuage your fears. I'll see him as soon as I can. See if there is anything I can do," Malcolm said, hoping to reassure her some. He stood and offered her his hand.

"Aderyn!" They both turned to see him running up the path. He hopped over the fence and stopped when he saw her father's face. "Malcolm, pardon me."

"No need." Malcolm ushered them both inside and quickly into his small study. If what his daughter said was true he had to be objective, at least until he found out what had happened. He could be an upset father after he knew what had happened. Aderyn started to leave, but Malcolm told her he would need her assistance.

"Show me," Malcolm said as his fingers moved across the spines of books on a shelf. When he turned and saw the mark he dropped the books he'd pulled off the shelf. He glanced at the templar then looked at his daughter for a long moment. He clinched his jaw and gathered the books he dropped. The mage set the books on the table and touched the distinctive mark in the center of the young man's chest. "Did it burn?"

Cullen shook his head. "I didn't feel anything." He looked over at the unnerved woman in the corner. "Aderyn saw a glow. I can't tell anything about it, it's like there's no trace of magic to it."

Within the hour Malcolm was more concerned about what had occurred than that his daughter had been in a position to leave such a mark on the young man. He could find nothing in his research. The three of them had sat there for several hours as Malcolm searched through his books with the help of his daughter. When her father left the room in search of a rare volume he kept in a chest in his bedroom, Aderyn handed Cullen his shirt back and he stood and slipped it on again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered standing behind her. She leaned back against his chest and he set his hand on her hip.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she replied replacing her father's books on the shelves.

"It doesn't matter." "How can you say that?" she asked glancing up at him over her shoulder. She shelved another volume. "You can't hide what I've done."

"Actually, I can. Quite easily I must add. I'm not one for running around shirtless."

Aderyn would beg to differ, she'd seen the sight several times, but she couldn't make light of the situation she was in. She was too scared for him, for herself, but most of all, for her family. She turned around and leaned against the bookcase. "How can you not be concerned?"

He set his hands on the bookcase on either side of her shoulders and gazed down into her eyes. "You are more than concerned enough for both of us." She glared at him a moment. "I'll tell you a secret." He leaned toward her. "I don't think it's the result of magic."

"What then?" Her look changed dramatically.

"I think it's something else. More potent than magic." He leaned toward her, but she ducked under his arm as the door opened.

"Smart boy." Malcolm closed the door behind himself, completely this time. "It's not something that can be performed by a mage." He looked at his daughter who seemed most surprised by the news; she sat down slowly. "As odd as this statement is. It's templar magic." Cullen laughed, but it was cut short by the look on Malcolm's face and a glance at the seal on the cover of the book. "It's a promise. Sealed by a touch."

Cullen looked at him curiously. Malcolm touched the book then looked back to the templar. "If this is correct, Aderyn give me your hand." She reached out to her father and he turned her right hand over to look at it. He nodded and loosed her hand. Aderyn touched her palm then looked up at Cullen, it was completely smooth. She showed the discovery to the templar. He ran his fingertips across her palm.

"I've never heard of anything like this," Cullen said marvelling at the complete lack of any texture on her palm.

"It is rare," Malcolm said. "I didn't think it could be the cause, truthfully I always thought it was little more than another part of templar legend, part of the myth." Both of them looked over at him carefully. He sat down and closed the book. "An old friend claimed he was marked by his wife in such a way, ... on their wedding night," he added carefully. "It's determined by overwhelming trust and connection to another."

#Fandom Meme #ljandersen

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fallenrepublick · 4 years

Note

Uh hi XD this is my first time asking for an x reader but uh here it goes. Soooo I'm wondering if you can write a Savage Opress x reader where our reader tags along with him throughout all his travels and is in love with him and patches him up after all the fights but after he finds Maul she feels left out and decides to be a dink and get herself captured by pirates and Savage because a fluffy protector even with his more animal instincts and goes and saves her and adorable fluff? Pretty please

Wow, thank you for giving me the great honor of being your first request! I’m very not good at fluff, but I did my best just for you! Enjoy!

You weren’t particularly vocal about your feelings. Not that it had ever really mattered one way or another, since the man you had been traveling with for years now seemed to favor action over spoken word. Savage Opress was a “brute force” sort of man, having been given unmatched physical ability thanks to the witchcraft of Mother Talzin on Dathomir. Even still, he often returned to his ship limping or holding his side after an encounter with a particularly skilled combatant, leading you to force him to sit and allowing you to bandage him with gentle hands, a practice you had developed during your travels.

He was seen as a monster everywhere he went, height pushing past the seven-foot mark, and a generally annoyed scowl plastered on his face constantly. Yet, when you looked at him, the first things that came to mind were not “monster” or “terrorist.” Instead, you saw a side that not many had the pleasure or privilege to experience. He often came to you with his worries and fears, even going so far as to hold you close when his past came back to haunt him.

“They called me monster,” he said to you once when you were taking care of a particularly nasty bruise that spanned the length of his ribcage. “Is that what I have become?”

You looked up at him, his face scrunched up, contemplating the words. “I’ve never thought of you that way,” you said, putting down the bandage for a moment and holding on to his wrist. “They don’t know you. I do.”

His face became more contorted. “And what do you know? All I am is violence and hatred. There is nothing else.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” You smiled at him, but held to your firm tone. “You’ve shown me nothing but kindness the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t see a monster when I look at you. I see… someone who was hurt. A powerful, determined, sun-kissed Zabrak that will do all that he must for who he cares about.”

You smiled when a low chuckle sounded from his chest. “Sun-kissed?”

“Your skin,” you said, prodding an area of his arm not covered by tattoos or bandages. “It reminds me of sunlight.”

But those moments seemed to be gone now. Of course, you knew Savage had been given his strength for a purpose, initially to be an undercover apprentice to Dooku, and eventually to find his brother, Maul, who had been assumed dead for an upwards of twelve years. But once he was found, you weren’t sure what would happen. At first, you had thought things would go back to normal, albeit with a new member of the party helping to plot for revenge and a takeover of various people who would prove useful to the Sith lords. Instead, Savage had been pulled away from you, trading quiet moments of intimate conversation for being caught up in his extremist brother’s delusions of grandeur.

The most interaction you’d had with Savage for the past few months was periodic glances and small smiles passed between you two as Maul mapped out every movement he was forcing Savage to carry out. Even in times when you believed you could catch him alone, you’d find that his brother was already there, training him or discussing alternatives to existing plans. When you walked in, Savage saw you and softened his glance, but Maul only hardened, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Yes?” he would ask coldly, as if you were intruding on anything actually important. Savage would look down, the normally dominant creature becoming a mere tool for his new master to use at his disposal. Nevermind that he was the older sibling.

Your world was rocked to its core. This intruder into your life had taken from you the one thing that made all of this traveling and uprooting worthwhile.

Eventually, Maul had dragged you two to the surface of Florrum, gathering what pirate followers he could to take over the rest of the Weequay gang. The moment your ship landed on the planet, the siege began.

“Stay here,” Savage said to you before disembarking. “I’ll be back for you.”

He left before you could say a word. You scowled and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Like hell I will. You’re not going to appreciate me? Fine. See what happens.” You waited a few moments before exiting the ship yourself, sneaking around the side to ensure that Savage didn’t see you, dust kicking up from the bare ground around your boots.

Blaster shots in the distance covered your hiding spots and burying any noise you made into obscurity. But of course, not long into your little adventure, a band of Weequay blocked your path, blasters raised up to your face. Your arms raised for insurance that they wouldn’t assume you were armed and shoot you before you had time to carry out your pseudo-revenge.

“Well well well,” one of the pirates grinned, spikes from his face moving up and down with his jaw. “What do we have here? A little loth cat poking her nose around in our business?”

Yet another Weequay came closer to you and poked your arm with the blaster. “Quite a lovely one aren’tcha? Might there be a person who’d pay a pretty price for your pretty head?”

You released a short sigh and looked at the sky. Seriously? But, you complied with their presses, certain that you’d get out one way or another. Not that you wanted to, exactly.

“There might be,” you shrugged, knowing they’d take the bait. And with such an affirmation, the pirates pulled at both of your arms, leading you back to their base.

The room you found yourself in was musty, a trace of mildew lingering in the air. It was fairly empty, a chair in the middle for you to be tied up in, but otherwise sound reverberated off the blank metal walls fiercely. It was perfect. The only thing you didn’t particularly like was the gag tied around your mouth, which also smelled like mildew.

The blaster sounds stopped. Cheering followed the silence, and the door opened. Hondo.

“How nice to see you, little bird!” he called out cheerily, spreading his arms as if inviting in a group hug. He snapped his fingers and the gag around your mouth was pulled down. “Now that the Jedi and those horned gentlemen are gone, we may proceed with introductions. I am Hondo Ohnaka, leader of this merry band of pirates! And you are?”

“They’re gone? All of them?” You were more incredulous than you thought you would be. You couldn’t believe Savage would just abandon you, not realizing you were gone.

“Er, yes,” Hondo hesitated. “They left a few moments ago. Why would it matter?”

You opened your mouth, about to insist that it didn’t, before sharp cries of pain echoed from the hallway. You could hear a deep voice crying out, “Where is she?!” in the distance.

Hondo whipped around towards the sounds. “And that would be my cue,” he said, backing away from the room and running through the doors.

Savage stomped in, one of the pirates necks held in his powerful grasp. His eyes widened at the state you were in.

“You!” He threw the pirate to the side and rushed to your side, working at the straps holding down your arms. “What did you think you were doing?! I told you to stay with the ship!”

Once you were released, you stood up, walking away from where he knelt. “Oh yeah? Were you there to make sure I did? Are you ever here to make sure of anything?”

He stood and tried to follow you. “What do you mean? I’ve been ensuring your safety for so long. No harm has come to you until now.”

“But that’s just the issue!” You turned to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not about my safety, Savage! It never has been. In fact, I feel less safe now! All you do is follow your brother’s orders, carrying out his crazy plans that could get you killed! I don’t ever see you! The only conversation we’ve had until just now has been, ‘Brother this’ and ‘Brother that.’ ‘My Master this’ and ‘My Master that.’ It’s all you seem to care about! But what about me, Savage? What about-”

You couldn’t finish before he came to you and pulled you into his arms, his strength holding you close, yet being gentle enough not to hurt you. He smelled faintly of metal, but with a touch of honey. He was so… warm. Your hands were scrunched up in front of you and you rested your head on his chest, feeling the beating of his hearts.

“My only desire”,” he began, slightly tightening his hold on you. “Was that you would be safe. I follow my brother’s orders, because I fear the worst for you. I promise I did not know-”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, cutting off his words of reassurance. “Savage…” you whispered, hoping no one else was around to hear you. “I love you.”

Clearly taken aback, he released you with widened eyes and mouth agape. “You… you love me?”

You smiled at him and nodded, waiting for his reaction. This wasn’t exactly how you had planned to let him know, but it was something. And thankfully enough, this was one of the few moments where you were finally alone.

He was suddenly beaming, his hands grasping your shoulders, almost covering your biceps. “I’d never imagined!” He was almost yelling now, the excitement taking full hold, and his voice made the whole room shake. “I only thought I was going mad! But it’s true! It’s amazing... because I love you as well!”

Your smile grew wider and he took you in his arms once again, almost lifting you off the floor this time. “We must go back to the ship,” he said to you, still pressing you against his chest. “I’m sure you don’t want to be here a moment longer!”

Before you had any time to respond, he knelt down and bent you over his shoulder, holding on to your legs as he walked back to the ship, a little more of a bounce in his step than usual.

#savage opress x reader #savage x reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you #i tried guys

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 3 years

Text

The Zone

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bruising, allusions to corrupt government, drug use, underage drinking, knives, mentions of neo-nazis, bad eating and sleeping habits, a mention of sex, mentions of death and the dead.

Word Count: 3.7k

Songs: Changes- Charles Bradley, 4 Morant- Doja Cat, Prey- The Neighborhood, Stay Together- Noah Cyrus, Without me- Eminem, Colors- Halsey, Where’s My Juul??-Full Tac, Pork Soda-Glass Animals, Everyday- A$AP Rocky, Facts- Kanye West, Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?, Immortal- J.Cole, High Enough- K,Flay, Drugs- UPSAHL.

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s also the fasest I’ve released a chapter after the other was released.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

I smashed the keypad multiple times with the handle of a knife before the metal finally fell. I pulled all the wires out before hearing the words ‘System Malfunction’.

If I hadn’t disarmed the alarm system already. I’d probably be worried right about now. I manually slid open the cell door.

That’s when she glanced up at me.

“Took you look enough,” She smirked.

“I could’ve gotten you out sooner if you didn’t get your ass locked up in solitary,” I tossed her the Black Cat suit.

“You know I still don’t know your name or what you look like,” She stated pulling the suit up “and I don’t think that's fair seeing as you know those things about me,” She cooed.

I pulled my mask over my face “It’s Y/N. Happy now?”

“Wow I always knew your voice sounded attractive, matches the face,”

“Okay, we can kiss my ass later but now we have about 2 minutes to get out before the guards come and get us,”

Leaving the building the same way I came in through the vent. You’d think they’d have better security. I was thankful they didn’t when we finally reached the car.

“Who’s car is this?” Felicia asked hopping in the passenger seat.

“Dunno,” I said, putting the car in the drive.

“Hold on tight,” I warned before ramming into the fence at full speed successfully knocking it down.

I was definitely not holding my breath that whole time. And I definitely was not doubting myself. Okay maybe I was, a little.

“I’m surprised that actually worked, none of this was planned at all,” I laughed in relief.

She laughed along with me

“Plans are for the ‘good guys’, if you’re smart enough you don’t need plans,”

“If that’s not the truth,” I replied turning onto a deserted road “You owe me again, I’m not counting, but I believe the score’s 3:1,”

She was right, you never need a plan. Second moral to the story is that even “villains” never work alone. I know I always talk that “every man for themselves” mess but everyone needs a support team. And for people who supposedly have no morals they haven’t betrayed me yet.

There are the bad guys and then there are the bad guys. The heroes didn’t seem to care which you were, they just wanted you locked up or dead and to get all the glory for it. I think it’s time one of us gets the glory.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered, “You need to be still,” She said, dabbing a cloth on my leg.

“Well it’s hard to be still when your leg is burning,”

I was expecting some jab or joke like normal but it was silent. She looked up at me and I could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Y/N…” Her eyes drifted over my bruised and cut up body, her voice breaking.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise I’m fine,”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you won’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t tell you anything cause then you’d worry,”

“Well I’m already worried!”

The next day of school was very ordinary. Well as ordinary as it got when you were a kid who was wanted in multiple cities. My body wasn’t as sore as it was the day before, the bruises were clearing up, but honestly these new weapons were no joke. I’d seen them burn straight through buildings and a ferry now. Anyways like I was saying before today was ordinary, nothing exciting unfortunately.

Rich kids in Queens take homecoming a little too seriously. For the most part, I’m not complaining penthouse parties were fun. Rich white kids love their molly.

Harry Osborn was one of those rich kids. If we’re being honest I feel like he does coke on occasion. I don’t think he actually liked homecoming all that much seeing as he’s pretty new to our school. I just think he likes being able to brag about his parties and get wasted at parties.

One of those parties would be the one I was getting ready for right now.

Olivia walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway. This bathroom was very modern as well as the whole house. Like an art gallery.

“Hey kitten,” I said since she wasn’t going to say anything.

“Hey,”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

“You know how I feel about Harry’s parties,”

That I did, her dad and Harry’s dad seemed to have some sort of beef. That I didn’t care enough to get into. But Olivia's family took it pretty seriously. I guess I could say Felicia and Olivia’s family. It’s still weird to see them as siblings. It’s not surprising, just weird. Just a weird family of kleptomaniacs.

This isn’t something I say often but I looked really hot. Like really fucking hot. I had even winged eyeliner. A nice black tube top. A pastel pink tennis skirt. I had black thong type thing on, you could see the thin straps resting on my waist from above the skirt. It wasn’t like I was trying to get fucked or anything because I was not planning on being the slightest bit of sober.

I also had thigh high socks on but only because they could conceal a knife and I’d been on high alert lately. Just because I wasn’t going to be sober didn’t mean I couldn’t protect myself. It's a sort of muscle memory when it comes to knives, at least with me

If I wore this anywhere near the kids at my old school they’d probably call me a wannabe white girl, but those kids aren’t there and they have no part of my life anymore.

I just wanted to get so fucked up that I couldn’t think at all.

I couldn’t help but think. That’s all I could do lately. My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me breathe for even one second. I just wanted to breathe and go to bed. I still can’t sleep. At least now I have a valid reason. I don’t like talking about it because it’s not a big deal or anything, but today is the anniversary of-. It’s the day Rose died. No use sugarcoating it. It passes every year, no use being in my feels about it. Couldn’t help it though, every year I’d get sad about it for about 5 minutes until I did so many drugs that I couldn’t blink.

As soon I stepped into the house. I was hit with the buzz I hadn’t felt in a while. I missed it too. It wasn’t like Liz’s “party” her thing could’ve been fun but the whole headache, Vulture thing and lack of drugs made it suck.

Anyways who cares about that. I’d been at this school long enough to know who had molly. I’d either have to flirt with them or pay which I was down for either.

See I knew the chewlery gem rod I had attached to a necklace would come in handy one of these days. Now I wouldn’t bite my mouth.

Only problem is I could still think. Which wasn’t good. There was some sort of jungle juice on the table but I just went straight for a bottle of beer sitting on the counter, because I was shaking too much to pour anything.

Beer has to be the nastiest form of alcohol out there. It looks like pee, tastes like pee, it’s like they didn’t bother trying to mask the taste of yeast in it.

My body was vibrating in a good way as I started talking to people. By the time I’d made small talk with the third person around me. I’d finished the beer and I went back to the kitchen to fill a cup with some form of alcohol and soda I wasn’t picky. Harry must’ve had the same idea.

“Hey,” He said.

“Hey, where’s your groupie,” I said referring to the blonde that’d I seen around him earlier.

“You mean Gwen?” He said, bringing a solo cup to his lips.

“Probably,” I moved over grabbing the orange soda next to me.

“Why’re you wondering, jealous?” He asked being his signature flirtatious self. There was this one time that we… you know. But we were both drunk so it doesn’t count.

“You wish I was jealous,” I rolled my eyes “We both know you're the one obsessed with me,” I laughed.

“Yep, dream about you every night,” He joked back.

I took a sip from my drink squinting as it slightly burned my throat.

“I’m sure you do,” I headed out of the kitchen.

I could feel my brain slowing down as I started to calm. That was until Facts by Kanye came on. Then suddenly it felt like my blood was boiling in my veins and I couldn’t breathe and not in the good way. I made my way to the nearest bathroom and hoped no one was making out in there.

I opened the door and the coast was clear.

I splashed water on my face. When I looked in the mirror my pupils were dilated and my face was flush. Normally my skin tone masked the effects of blushing but not this time.

I wasn’t drunk. Maybe I was but I wasn’t enough. I was still laying on the bathroom floor because it was cold and felt good in contrast against my hot skin. I was going through my phone and landed on Peter’s number. I texted him because I was bored and I can text whoever I want.

you: helo

About thirty seconds later he responded, guess he was already on his phone.

P 😜🤚: Hey

you: do yuo like pengwings

pengns

fck

penguns

penguins

He read the messages and responded rather quickly

P 😜🤚: ?

You okay?

you: yesh im fine d you like penfuins

P 😜🤚: Are you drunk

you: no im nt drunk i m jst hPpy

P 😜🤚: yeah sure, where are you.

Before I could think, I clicked the option to send location. Even if I did think it wouldn’t have done much help. None of my thoughts were coherent. I was actually happy, like really really happy.

I was still laying on the ground when I felt the floor vibrate with the knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Peter,” The voice called out

“Come in!” I said in a sing-songy voice.

He opened the door slowly and looked around before looking down at me.

“Hiii,”

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor,”

I shrugged after slowly pushing off the floor so I wouldn’t lose balance.

“How’d you get here?” Since I know he couldn’t drive.

“I got an Uber,”

“That’s adorable,”

“What’s adorable,”

“You, you spent money on a ride just to come see me,” I pointed out, voice cracking halfway through the sentence as tears started to well in my eyes.

“Wait don’t cry, I’m sorry, did I do something? If I did sorry for whatever it was-”

“No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me,” I moved a hand off the counter I was holding onto for balance before wiping my face. I don’t cry, at least not willingly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

“Well I was going to…” He fiddled with his hands before continuing “I was going to ask if you needed a ride because I didn’t know if you drove here or not and you’re clearly drunk-“

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I don’t drink how could I be drunk,”

“Okay, but like I was saying do you need a ride?”

I was going to say I didn’t want to leave yet but it’s not like I was doing anything but being pathetic and hanging out in the bathroom.

“Fine, yeah”

Peter opened his mouth like he was about to say something but a knock on the door interrupted. I immediately opened the door and grabbed Peter’s wrist running, for no reason except I felt like it. I bumped into a couple doorways

By the time we’d made it out by the pool Peter was hunched over trying to catch his breath.

I started running toward the water and I could hear a faint

“Y/N don't!” As I was running but it was too late seeing as I was already in the water. I laughed as I broke the surface as I floated on my back.

Peter came over to the edge of the water and squatted down.

“Y/N”

“And nothing hurts anymore I feel kinda free!” I sang splashing around in the pool.

“Y/N”

“We're still the kids we used to be,”

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, snapping my attention back to him.

“Hmm?” I asked.

“You need to get out the pool,”

“I don’t wanna,” I whined.

“Yeah I know but don’t you wanna go home?” He asked.

The last place I’d ever want to go is “home”

“No, get in the pool,”

“Y/N,” He said sternly.

“Pleaseee,”

“Get out the pool it’s cold you’re gonna get sick,”

“Fine…” I made my way begrudgingly to the steps of the pool.

Peter gave me the hoodie he was wearing so I was able to take my skirt and socks off. I put the knife I had in the hoodie pocket.

The last thing I remember is getting in some car.

Oh shit

I woke up in a room that I did not recognize. I swear to God if I got kidnapped again. I sat up quickly and hit my head on something. It was dark but there was a nightlight. Thank God if we’re being honest I’m scared of the dark. Long story I don’t wanna get into it.

I was definitely hungover, headache prominent. It only worsened when I stepped out the room and the light from the TV hit my eyes. I glanced over to Peter laying on the couch.

Oh yeah I forgot about that.

“Hey…” I whispered. He shifted a bit “You awake?”

He sat up and looked at me rubbing his eyes before bombarding me with questions.

“Did you- Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need painkillers? Sorry that I brought you here and didn’t ask. That's really creepy but you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you because you seemed tired. Again sorry it’s just I didn’t really even know where you lived and I was-“

“Oh my God, shut up!” I interrupted.

He looked stunned, blinking a few times.

“Sorry,” I held my hand to my forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, it’s just you- you were making my head hurt.”

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“No, I promise it’s not you, if it’s okay with you can I go back to sleep? I don’t really feel like going home right now,”

“Yes of course you can!” He sat up and pushed the blanket off of him before standing. “Wait I’ll be right back,” He said. I nodded before hesitantly sitting down on the couch.

He came back rather quickly with a glass of water and some painkillers. I mumbled a quick thank you before taking them.

I yawned, surprised that I was able to actually feel tired. Normally it took at least a few hours before I could sleep if I even got the chance.

“You can take the bed,” Peter informed.

“I just wanna stay right here,” I said lazily.

He tried to scoot over but I already had my arms wrapped around him so I squeezed him tighter. I looked up and his face was tinted red, smiling before I drifted off.

I felt light hit my face and I heard the squeak of a door. I sat up and slowly unwrapped my arms from around Peter. Walking over towards May.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know if it was okay for me to stay here I should’ve called and asked,”

“No, no it’s perfectly fine,”

“Okay…”

“He talks about you all the time you know,”

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks for not killing me for being in your house,” I joked. “But I should probably get home anyway,”

I didn’t go home. Mostly because I don’t have an actual home. I didn’t go to any of the almost 13 places I’ve stayed at, at some point either. I went to some shitty hotel. I had enough money to stay for about a week. Which was great I could stay for all of homecoming week then I’d have to find somewhere else to stay before I got more money at least.

The last step for this day was go to Olivia’s house and get my stuff back. I made my way into the house through the back door, and sure enough she was sitting on the couch like parents in movies when they catch you sneaking out.

She eyed the bag in my hand.

“So you’re leaving?”

“I-“ I didn’t get the chance to speak.

“And you weren’t going to tell me, oh okay,”

“Olivia…”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going back to my grandma's house,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, again I’m sorry that I tried to leave without telling you I just-“

“Didn’t want to be interrogated?”

“Yeah…”

”It’s okay, I get it, come give me a hug,”

I moved giving her a hug and she mumbled

“You smell like booze,”

As soon as I got back to the hotel I turned on the movie Frozen. Which I knew was a bad idea because the movie always made me cry.

I ended up crying myself to sleep and by the time I woke up I was late for school. I slept for 18 hours straight.

If I was going to be late might as well have had a reason. So, I got smoothies.

“I love smoothies a lot, but banana is so so strong. Which like makes it pointless to put anything else in it. People should stop saying strawberry and banana smoothie because in reality it’s a BANANA and strawberry smoothie,” I took another sip of my smoothie.

“Damn bitch, you’re saying a lot and fast what’d they put in that smoothie,” Bri said examining the cup before turning to me again “And can I have some?” I laughed before lighty shoving her shoulder.

“Noo! Continue talking you were my reference for my excitement portrait,” MJ said flipping her sketchbook towards me “I’ve missed my one and only chance to see you happy,”

“Now I know you’re not talking, I don’t think anyone has seen you smile ever,”

I slid down the bench of the lunch table

“Whatcha watching Phineas?” I asked Peter. He quickly swiped out the app. “Was it porn?”

“No! Wha- What?”

I patted his shoulder “Relax dude, I was just messing with you,”

That was the last I’d spoken to any of my friends. In all actuality that was the last time I’d spoken to anyone besides the hotel staff. I hadn’t been to school since...what’s today? Wednesday. Well then I hadn’t been to school since 3 days ago. Which also means I haven’t eaten since a week ago?

Okay I know how bad that sounds but it’s not like I’ve been eating nothing. I just haven’t been hungry lately, I have had snacks though like goldfish and chips. I’ve just been too lazy to cook and don’t have the funds to cook. I’ve also been too lazy to fake a smile or whatever so I just haven’t been going to school.

However what I have been and haven’t been eating is the issue of concern here. It’s that alien shit from the Avengers a few years ago is so much deeper than anyone could have ever thought. I’d been in research mode for a while now. I call it the zone, anything you say to me will go unheard, I mean business when I’m in the zone. If I want something to happen it will.

“Okay so, I’ll start with the government flash drive. So the aliens that attacked a while back in 2012 were called Chitauri. So Loki had control of them and was using them as an army. Loki being Thor’s brother and the God of mischief,” I clarified.

''And Loki was attacking because he wanted to be king but his brother was king instead. I mean I think, I don’t really get that part. So there was this thing called the tesseract and it’s supposedly like super powerful. This branch of government called Shield doesn’t want Loki to have this so they keep, then the invasion ensues. This tesseract however is some space stone and Loki used it to bring in the aliens. It’s some sort of infinity stone whatever that means. Howard Stark found the stone in the ocean, because a Stark is always gonna be the one to fuck the world up when they think they’re helping. Then he and someone else founded Project Pegasus-”

“What’s project Pegasus?”

“I don’t really know but I know it stands for potential energy group alternate sources,”

“Oh, so it’s Shield that’s over this… Tesseract?”

“Exactly!” I clapped and the papers with all the information I printed from the flash drive rustled underneath me.

“What are you going on about?” Carmen asked. “Like what’s the bigger picture?”

“That’s the thing! I don’t know, this is like so covered up and coded that I can’t figure it out with information that I have,” I turned towards her “But I will, and that’s where your help comes in,”

“Y/N, when’s the last time you slept?” She tilted her head like those dogs in Minecraft when you have food.

“Last night,” I waved her off.

I looked down at the information I was able to find out about Kingpin since he was mentioned in the video my mom made for me. Apparently she worked for him for a while. So did Felicia but all she’d ever tell me was “He was an ass he did give me a gift I’m grateful for though,”. He had affiliations with everyone.

From what Black Widow released out unto the world he had connections with a Neo Nazi group called HYDRA which brainwashed people from what’ve heard.

Before I’d just wanted to take down the Vulture out of pettiness if we’re being honest, but now. Oh now? I knew I’d have to.

Another paper I’d printed from Kingpin’s affiliations caught my eye.

“Hey Carmen,”

“Hm?”

“Ever been to Vegas?”

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #mcu x reader #reader x peter parker #Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x poc reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x bi!reader #peter parker x bisexual!reader #peter parker x thorn #Thorn Series #spiderman x thorn #thorns prick

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bssaz97 · 4 years

Note

I have to ask how did Qrow and Juanes family react to the kids in Missing for a Year

Missing For A Year Part 3

Ruby: “Miss Goodwitch, thank you so much!” *Large Anime Tears fall down her face*

Glynda: “You’re welcome Miss Rose, although I do recommend keeping a closer watch of your children while at events in the future.”

Both Ruby and Jaune nodded rapidly to her sound advice, who will make sure to take the advice to heart.

Ruby/Jaune: “We promise we will!”

Glynda: “Good. Now.” *lifts up her riding crop directly at the ice block*

*CRACK!*

The ice prison around the two newlyweds had been broken apart, freeing them so that the two can freely move again. Much to the joy of the two leaders and displeasure of a disgruntled ice queen.

Qrow: *approaching* “Well I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Does it kiddo.”

Ruby: “Uncle Qrow!” *petal bursts out of the ice cube and launches herself at him*

Qrow: “Oof!” *catches her while laughing* “Geez pipsqueak! I’m not as young as I use to be, you could be a little gentler...”

Ruby: “Sorry I’m just so excited to see you again!”

Qrow: *hugs her tightly* “Yeah me too.”

Ruby: “I’m sorry it took so long.” *hangs head in shame*

Qrow: “Hey none of that alright. What’s happened has happened, no use in crying over spilled milk. Just seeing that you’re alive and well is all I need.”

Ruby: “You too. I know we’ve been gone for awhile but we missed you all so very much and I wished we could’ve come back sooner to you all.”

Qrow: “Well maybe remember to stamp your letters next time.” *he jokes*

Ruby: “It was a honest mistake!”

Qrow: *laughs and ruffles her hair* “Whatever you say kiddo.”

Ruby: “Meanie...to think I almost named one of my children after you.”

Qrow: “Probably a good call that you didn’t. Don’t need to have a kid named after me until I’m at least in the grave.”

Ruby: “Oh ha-ha.”

Jaune finished swiping of all the ice residue on his person then rubs his hands together rapidly to warm them up. Being trapped in a large ice cube wasn’t very comfortable in the least. His mother helps her son by removing her scarf and wrapping it around his hands.

June: “Are you alright sweetie?”

Jaune: “Yeah just a bit frosty.”

Yang: “...Did he?”

Taiyang: “I think he just did.”

Jaune: “What? I can make puns too. You all didn’t originate them.”

Taiyang: “Ok fair enough.”

Jaune: “Oh yeah by the way...are we cool?” *gestures between himself and his father-in-law*

Taiyang: “Well considering that you pretty much married my daughter behind our family’s back, I should be furious. But since you’ve already made me a grandfather I can’t really stay mad at you.”

Jaune: “Really?”

Taiyang: “No.”

Jaune: “Figured.”

Taiyang: *laughs* “Relax kid, I’m just messing with you. Glad to have you in the family.”

Jaune: “Thanks.” *smiles*

June: “Speaking of grandchildren...YOINK!” *takes an infant Rowan/Summer from Taiyang and Yang*

Taiyang/Yang: “Hey!”

June: “Hello my little darlings~ I’m so happy to meet you two. Look at how big you two are already. I’m your Granny June and I love you both so much! Oh you’re both so cute~” *she coos as she cradled the two infants rocking them to and fro*

Jaune: “Uh mom, I know you’re excited about your new grandchildren but you should really-.”

June: “Oh come now Jaune I’ve raised eight kids including you so I think have this under-!”

Summer: *gurgling noises with her face turning green*

June: “...oh no.” *face paled*

*BLEEEGH!*

What Jaune tried to warn his mother about was that Summer was unfortunately cursed with his inherited motion sickness. As such Summer did not like to be rocked otherwise it would lead to her spit up all over said person’s shirt.

June: “....oh dear.” *looks down at her ruined dress*

Ruby: *gasp!* “Mrs. Arc I’m so sorry!” *grabs a tissue and tries to clean it off*

Jaune: “I tried to warn you.”

June: “That’s ok, this isn’t something I haven’t gone through before. Although I would be more than grateful if you could take back these two while I get cleaned up.” *handing their babies back to them*

Ruby: “Are you sure you don’t want me to help? I feel really bad.”

June: “It’s alright dear. I’ve raised eight children after all, so there’s nothing to worry about. Jaune, be a dear and introduce your children to the rest of the family before your sisters complain about not seeing their new niece and nephew, ok?”

Jaune: “Sure.”

As June Arc was making her leave most, of not all of Jaune’s sisters swarmed them just as she said they would.

Rouge: “Oh my goodness look at you two!”

Saphron: “You’re so small and look so cute!”

Vert: “What’s their names little bro?”

Jaune: “Uh, This is Rowan and Summer.” *points at each of his children*

Bleu: “Do they have all their necessary shots?” *adjusts her glasses*

Jaune: “What? No, they’re barely three months old!”

Noir: “Why didn’t you tell us you two eloped?”

Blanc: “And how did you get pregnant so fast?”

Ruby: “W-Well we wanted to marry after the war so that’s what we did.”

Violet: “How can you tell which is a boy and girl?”

Arc Siblings/Ruby: .....

Violet: “What? It’s a legitimate question.” *shrinks in embarrassment*

Nicholas: “Girls.”

At the sound of his voice all the Arc women made way for the patriarch of their family. He walked towards the brand new couple/parents, his towering figure nearly encompassing them in shadow.

Nicholas: “Son.”

Jaune: “Hey Dad...long time no see. Heh”

Arc Sisters: *winces*

Terra: *facepalms*

Ruby: *whispering* “Really?”

Jaune: “Uhhh. So! ...How are you?”

Saphron: *mouthing ‘NO!’*

Jaune: “I mean. What I mean to say is-!”

Nicholas: “Stop.” *raises his palm*

Jaune: 0x0

Nicholas: “What’s done is done. There’s no use to bringing up the past.”

Jaune: “Right...”

Nicholas: “But I am very happy to see you alive.....and apparently with a wife and children.” *rests his raised hand on Jaune’s shoulder*

Jaune: “...Thanks Dad.”

Nicholas: *nods then removes his hand* “So if I heard correctly, this one is Rowan and this one is Summer right?” *gestures to the two infants*

Ruby: “Yessir. My tiny little blessings.”

Nicholas: “...heh. I see you’ve adopted June’s nicknaming habit.”

Ruby: “Yep.”

Nicholas: “Mm. Looks like you have a keeper my son.”

Jaune: “I’m lucky to have her.” *one arm hugged Ruby*

Ruby: *smiles*

Nicholas: “Good. Don’t do anything stupid to mess it up. You hear me boy.”

Jaune: “Wouldn’t dream of it sir.”

Rowan/Summer: “Ahh!” *make curious baby noises*

Nicholas looks down to see both Rowan and Summer then bends his knees, lowering his large frame to look into the little ones. They looked at the older Arc curiously, looking at his aged but still strong facial features and Summer was brave enough to reach out touch the older man’s beard. This caused Summer to giggle as the hair tickled her tiny fingers, causing Nicholas to laugh softly at the child’s pure laughter. Rowan followed soon after Summer and he giggled as well once he felt Nicholas’ beard.

Nicholas: “Hello little ones, I am your grandpa. I am pleased to meet you.” *he said with what could be called a genuine smile*

Ruby: “ohhhh” *she watches the display in amazement* <3

Qrow: “WOW Nicky, I think you just made a genuine smile on your face.”

Nicholas: “Qrow...”

Qrow: “Hey don’t scare the babies now! They’re impressionable.” *while smirking*

Ruby: “Qrow be nice.” *she chides her honorary uncle/mentor*

Qrow: *raises his hands in mock surrender*

Ruby: “Hey Rowan, look this my Uncle Qrow. Isn’t he cool?”

Rowan: *head tilts* “Ah?”

Ruby: “Yes he’s the coolest uncle ever. You want him to hold you?”

Qrow: “Uh Ruby I don’t-.”

Ruby: “Here you go.” *moves Rowan into his arms*

Qrow: “Wait Ruby don’t-! Ok here we go. Uh hey there kid. Nice to...meet you.”

Rowan: ....

Ruby: “It’s ok Qrow, he’s only a baby. He won’t bite.”

Qrow: “Right. Um, heh, You look a lot like your mom. Kinda surprised that your supposed to be the boy.”

Rowan: .... *hrk!* *BLEGH!*

Qrow eyes widen but it was already too late, all he could do was look down and see that Rowan had just spit up all over his new shirt. Both parents gave nervous looks but also tried not to laugh at Qrow’s expense. Taiyang, Yang, Nicholas, and the seven Arc sisters, however, did not follow their example, laughing their guts out.

Rowan: *giggles and points at Qrow*

Qrow: “Oh now you find me funny. Don’t ya, you lil’ gremlin.” *eye twitches*

Ruby: “Hey I’m sure he didn’t mean to do that!”

Yang: “Hahahaha! I don’t know Ruby, he seemed pretty determined to puke all over Qrow!” *covering her mouth*

Qrow: “Well at least I know you’re your Mother’s kid. You’re a brat through and through.”

Ruby: “Hey!”

June: “Ok I’m back what did I-...Oh dear. Apparently both children have motion sickness.”

Nicholas: “No dear, it’s just the boy knows how to get back at others.” *he smiles in pride of his progeny*

-Fin-

A/N: Boy did this one take me awhile to get done. I had a lot of ideas for how this were to go and tried to fit them all in so hope I met your expectations. Thanks again for your support! 😊

P.S. I did my best to make names for the remaining Arc sisters and I decided to simplify and translate the names of the girls in accordance to their color from the portrait we saw in Volume 6 in Saphron’s house. Also keep in mind I have no idea what the age difference is just know I did my best and this will be my head canon until proven otherwise.

Rouge = Eldest (Red w/ Short Hair)

Saphron = Second (Orange that was Upside down. Her name is closer to orange so yeah)

Vert = Third (Green)

Blanc/Noir = Twins (Ok so they had blue bows but the also look to be wearing black and white so I went with that to avoid confusion)

Bleu = Sixth (Blue w/ Glasses)

Violet = Neña (Violet, no brainer)

Jaune = Youngest (Yellow. Ok so he appears to be the youngest from the photo as most of the time the most recent child is at the center of most family pictures. But again I could be wrong but I stand by what I said until CRWBY says otherwise...probably)

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #rwby lancaster #lancaster #yang xiao long #arc family #rwby saphron #saphron cotta arc #qrow brawnwen #rwby qrow #rwby taiyang #taiyang xiao long #anonymous asks #missing for a year

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andieperrie18 · 4 years

Text

Egoistic: Bruce Wayne x Reader

I am in love with MAMAMOO and I like how this song inspired by this. I am just a random writer writing random content depending on what inspires me or what comes to my mind but I do hope to some of you who would read this one-shot would like this. So I have no particular bias in mamamoo but I just thought moonbyul would be perfect as Reader-chan. now Enjoy!!

part II

Egoistic: Bruce Wayne x Reader

I foolishly adjusted to you and it’s torturing me

Making me lonely till the end

- Egoistic: Mamamoo

Bruce Wayne, the notorious philanthropist, and playboy in the city of Gotham. The man that captured hearts of many and had bedded some of a few. A man of power and looks as he is not only a wise man but a total lady killer as well.

Then came he alters ego, none other than the Dark Knight himself, Batman. A hero he calls himself yet he does the most despicable things to every villain he encounters. He embosses cruelty and violence that he knows that will strike fear to every dirt lingering in his city.

Only a few people know that these only masked. Specifically two people. Alfred Pennyworth: The Wayne Family Butler and Y/n L/n: The Childhood Best friend.

There was also Selina Kyle, but she cannot really penetrate his wall. Yet.

What she and Bruce had been considerably more than just a fling. They had their nights together as they let themselves lost in their desires. And the man seems to not mind at all as he is starting to consider the woman as the only person who understands him. The man was truly and Egoist.

Too encased with the idea that he was a man who lost everything. A man who wants to rid the society of its parasites and pest. A hero equipped with the most convenient ways to help people of Gotham. And he had a perfect companion in his goals, Cat woman. Although a criminal but Selina did things for the good, well most of the time.

Y/n was nothing compared to Selina. The moment the woman entered her best friend’s life, it was she never existed in Bruce’s life. The way she would break with every conversation they would have about the said vixen vigilante made her blood boil and heartbreak all the time. But what can she do?

“What can I do?” Y/n mumbled to herself as she stood before Wayne mansion.

The skies thundered, heavy droplets of rain drizzled endlessly that night. Flashes of lightning gave glimpses of her peripherals from the metal fences, the shrubbery. She cast her eyes upward and from her spot, she had a perfect view of his bedroom window. The light was on in his room. She saw a silhouette of two figures inside before the light disappeared and so did the breath from her lips.

It was one of those nights where Selina would come home with Bruce from his patrol. Another night of sheer bliss from both of them. And another night of torment for Y/n.

Eyes never leaving the same window, Y/n remained in her spot as the rain continue to drench her from head to toe. Droplets of water missing with the salty ones that slid along her cheeks from her glassy eyes. The pattering of rain was being accompanied by small sounds of light sobs.

And from that night, she vowed. That this will be the last time Bruce Wayne will make her cry.

^^^^^^

It’s been a couple of years now. Bruce has seen his best friend who left him with nothing but a letter of confession. At first, he was oblivious of his best friend’s disappearance until one day he asked his trusty butler to why the sudden absence of woman. Alfred replied with silence before handing his master an envelope.

There is a saying where in order for someone to realize their feelings for that person is for them to lose that said person. And that he just did.

The closest person he considers as a family had gone off somewhere after verbatim-ly confessing in a letter that she can no longer resist that pain she has to feels upon seeing him in bed with another. And it was made more difficult years later when he realizes that there were still differences between him and Selina. She can handle publicity, unlike Y/n who handles everything for Bruce.

It was hard to function for him for a while before he met Dick.

Bruce is now as at a party, Mayor Garcia had somewhat called up all people from around to for the ball. Of course him being a big shot, it would almost seem impossible for him to not be invited. With that opportunity, he brought his son’s along with him yet they all went to separate directions later after a few minutes of entering the venue.

The party had an unknown purpose as the said leader of the city stated that it was just another celebration.

Damian Wayne was keeping himself occupied by marveling all the pieces that seem to be sponsored at the party.

“An Obra Maestra in my opinion. Maybe I should get one for my room or maybe two?” the young Wayne boy stared at work with utmost admiration and respect. He was entranced by each stroke on every canvass, hook, line, and sinker. The colors working along with the movements and directions. There was something aggressive with each one that Damian cannot explain.

Soon he came through an empty hall, littered with more canvasses. Each art contained different messages now but he could tell the artist was still the same person.

Although he was rather drowned out with admiring one particular piece where it was a portrait of a Sabertooth sitting in a calm meadow with a Robin fluttered upon its snout. Both animals didn’t show any discomfort but rather a pinch of sparks fly. “You like art?”

Damian didn’t turn as he was still engrossed with the painting mumbled small ‘Yeah’.

Y/n smiled, her eyes from the boy turned to the painting hung on the wall. “What do you think this piece talks about?” The boy still didn’t turn his gaze away from the painting but manage to muster a reply.

“It tells about a Robin that had fallen with a Predator.” Y/n hummed, “How do you know it’s a love story kid?” Damian’s green eyes sparkled with curiosity as he analyzed the said piece. “I don’t but I like to think that the Robin had fallen for the predator due to admiration on how well she hunts her prey.” Y/n’s head flicked to the left, lips curling to a smile.

“A debatable answer.” She chuckled.

“I’ll take this one to my room. Do you know anyone here I could talk to about buying this piece? I am somewhat very fond of it.” Damian spun her head to the direction of his company. Y/n only smiled at him.

“I guess I do.”

“Good, will you take me to him?”

“SHE is right in front of you darling.”

^^^^^^^

“Fancy seeing you here Clark?”

The disguised man of steel took Bruce’s extended hand. “Well, it’s just that my agency heard of a big occasion here and nothing really special but they still sent me anyway just in case.” Bruce eyed the small notepad and pen on his one hand. “Still working on a weekend?”

Clark on raised his shoulder to a shrug before a short pause.

“You alone?” The blue-eyed man shook his head. “I’m with the boys, they’re out there somewhere. Maybe drinking their asses out or something.” Clark nodded in reply.

“Hello, Good Evening everyone.”

Clark and Bruce turns to the podium where the leader of Gotham city now stood.

“I know some of you are still questioning why I invited you all here. In a very normal party. I think many of you notice the setting.”

“Bruce.”

The said the male’s attention was taken by his eldest who was accompanied by his other two siblings. “Dick, Tim, Jason. I’m surprised you’ve found me. Where’s Damian?” the three looked at each other, brows furrowed.

“The Painting exhibited on the walls are sponsored by a surprise guess tonight. I know some of you have been eyeing some pieces of our liking but sadly they are not yet for release.”

“We thought he was with you.” A surge of worry climbed through Bruce’s bile a bit.

“Don’t worry too much, Bruce. I’m sure he’s just around here somewhere.”

“Now I would like to present to all of you the mind of all the masterpieces spread across all of you. I must say I was rather excited when she had finally accepted our invitation. And our guest was generous enough to have all her works be the highlight of this event since we’ve been aiming to have an Artistic type of setting.”

All attention finally was to the speaker on the front Bruce and his sons were still quite occupied to where the youngest was. “Clark would you mind keeping an eye out to where my son is.” Of course, the man agreed.

Still occupied, Bruce kept turning his head every five minutes in hopes of spotting the jaded eyed boy.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you. The Artiste Visionnaire of France. The Famous 21st Century Art Critique Maîtresse. Painter and Ex-Marine Sergeant;

Madamoiselle Y/n M/n L/n.”

At the moment, everything had stopped for Bruce. The familiarity of the name that should have been long forgotten in the back of his mind rang like he had heard the name like yesterday.

“Wow, who would’ve thought that I could hit a jackpot tonight? Y/n is a big name in the industry. Have you ever seen such and influencing woman- Bruce?” With air caught in-between spaces of his throat, he can’t form any type of reply.

His eyes watched from the edge of the stage, a good ten feet from the podium where the Mayor stood. He awaited the familiar petite frame of a woman that he remembers that likes to dress into big skirts and conservative tops. The same woman that he had come to realize to be his only one.

And with no denial, a woman did emerge from the side. But not in the said attire he had thought as he almost didn’t recognize that it was a woman. The person emerges wearing a very prestigious and recent collection Dolce and Gabbana. It was a suit, the type where big businessmen would wear. It was tailored from a very expensive satin called satin-jacquard. The satin suit glowed in its canary yellow hue that lights from every chandelier allowed it glimmer a lot more. Like the person walking in them was wearing gold. And along the satin suit was loitering designs of floral in dominating shades of reds and greens.

“Y/n…” It was her.

Yet he felt different from her. Like he was somewhat culture shocked. The woman who never failed to show femininity to the crowd is now walking before him in the most expensive suit somewhat only she could pull off. Eyes held no type of emotion but stoniness.

Bruce watch each of her strides towards the podium. Poise. Just poise.

He described that moment as if she was the most feminine of the feminine yet masculine of the most masculine.

As she arrived by the podium, facing the seemingly endless crowd of elites. He didn’t miss the moment her eyes found his.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #the dark knight #superman #clark kent #son of batman #Damian Robin damianwaynexreader damianwaynexoc wayne batman batboys #bat #batman

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devnicolee · 4 years

Text

The Chosen Ones (2)

A/N: I hate how long it has taken me to write anything new! But I am really excited about this series (hope y’all still are) so I am going to keep writing it. This definitely classifies as a slow burn FYI. But the timeline for the story is short. Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 10,603

The soft clicks of Asha’s sandals filled the silent halls of the palace as she walked toward her brother's office. Her early morning summons left a sour taste in her mouth and a disgruntled look on her face at having to get up even earlier than she needed to for their meeting with Lord M’Baku; but she begrudgingly obliged her brother’s request. Dark clouds stole the natural light that would have usually provided the corridors with a warm glow causing the journey to fill more ominous than usual. She didn't understand what it was, her inability to shake this anxiety she felt since Killmonger. She knew it was just her. The rest of the country and palace seemed to return to business as usual since T'Challa reclaimed his throne. She, however, felt like everything around her was changing. And that was perhaps because, thanks to her siblings, it was.

Though her life amounted to little more than an imprisonment, Asha had grown used to her simple, peaceful and quiet life cooped up in her room, the palace gardens or the library. A life as peaceful, quiet and mundane as the constraints of royalty would allow it to be, of course. She had little desire to change that and potentially destroy her family in the process. But now it seemed as though everyone else had other plans for her future, plans to make it the opposite of mundane, quiet, and ordinary.

Has the power of King gone to his head?

She wondered as she navigated the nonstop demands he lobbed at her as of late. It seemed as if, in addition to the powers of the Black Panther, T'Challa had another superpower: the ability to know when Asha had more than five minutes of alone time. She could not retreat to her bedroom for long before he was calling her to review treaties and paperwork, go over official requests from the Council or citizens as part of her new role as "political adviser to the King." She didn't understand why he was going to such lengths for a fake position, something that she knew only existed to make her feel valued and included.

Her smile brightened when she turned the corner to see Okoye outside of T'Challa's office.

"Good morning, General."

"My princess," Okoye nodded and saluted her before her body relaxed out of its usual rigid stance and a small but clear smile fell on her features. "He is expecting you."

"Thank you," Asha smiled. "Oh wait, I need to check with Nakia but you are still free for girl’s night after the state dinner, yes?"

Asha laughed lightly at Okoye’s look of disgust at the phrase "girl’s night." But it had become their tradition over the years, the group would get together after official events and parties to update Asha on the night's events, any new gossip and drama. She knew Okoye found the name and custom somewhat childish but she was a constant at the gatherings nonetheless.

"Of course, I'll be there."

"Perfect, have a good day, Okoye," she said before opening her brother’s office door.

Asha truly valued the relaxed and loving relationship she shared with Okoye. She was cold to almost everyone except the Royal Trio but she always seemed to have an especially soft spot for Asha. Asha was blessed to have big sisters in her and Nakia, people outside of the Golden Tribe to turn to when the solitude transformed from sanctuary to prison.

Her brother’s back was turned to her as she approached his desk.

"If your idea of being king is just dragging me out of bed then perhaps we should have left Killmonger in charge?"

He turned to offer her an eye roll and a playful glare.

"Too soon sister... too soon. My wounds have barely healed."

She lifted her hand in surrender before starting to sit down in the chair across from him.

"No, don't sit! We are not staying, I have something to show you."

He ushered her back out of the door and into the hallway.

The journey was quick, literally two doors down the hall to an office near his.

"The reason for this early morning meeting is to show you this," he said as he opened the door to a spare office.

Asha smiled at the childlike enthusiasm and excitement in his eyes. And so, she tried her best to hide her confusion when she looked around at the decorated office. It was beautiful, clearly he put a lot of effort into its decoration: the red and gold decor and gold-trimmed office furniture. But still, Asha did not understand why she needed to be there for this.

"This is nice! Will this be Nakia’s office?" She asked as she looked around the room, highlighting the only logical purpose for using the space. "Shouldn’t you have decorated it green though? For the River Tribe? Though it is the thought that counts I suppose. But next time, ask for my advice earlier."

The office was beautiful, yes, but certainly not Nakia’s style.

T’Challa let out an exasperated laugh, "You are one of the smartest people in this family and are still the most clueless. This is not Nakia’s office, it is yours. Your favorite color, paintings of your favorite place in Wakanda and by your favorite artist, pictures of us and Shuri, views of the gardens, your favorite flowers on the table?" he listed, finally drawing her attention to all the things that would make this office for her and not her brother’s girlfriend.

"Wait what? I mean it is thoughtful and beautiful but why do I need an office?" she asked bewildered as she examined the space more closely, finding even more personal touches.

There was a fireplace, which was not actually needed anywhere else in the palace. Little golden panther and rhinos found their home on the fireplace’s mantle. She even spied a picture of T’Challa and W’Kabi next to a few of the border rhinos, her favorite animal since a young age, on a side table.

"Yes, you have a real job now. You are cementing your place in the tribe. And as liaison with the Jabari and political adviser to the King, you need a real space to work. It requires an office. Shuri and I worked on it for the last few days, everything is reinforced with vibranium to make them fire-resistant by the way."

She snorted, "'Political adviser to the king?' The title and position you made up to make me feel included and important?"

"Every ruler has advisers, Asha. It is a new position, yes. But one with very real work to utilize your genius. You spent half your life cooped up in the library reading books. You know so much more than Shuri or I about our history, our allies and our enemies. You have a far better mind for politics than I… or baba, I imagine. A good king utilizes the people who know the things he does not. And so, as an adviser, I expect to see you in this office every day, understand?"

Asha rolled her eyes. First her father forced her into isolation and now her siblings were forcing her out of it.

Why is no one content with simply leaving me alone?

"Yes, my king," she answered.

"Perfect. This is a good thing, Asha, I promise. Besides, I also want you to help me figure out how to undo the damage father has done, help me with a project... change public opinions ab-"

He was unable to finish when Alexis poked her head in.

"Apologies my king and princess but Hasani is here to see you. He has been looking for you."

Asha's heart immediately sank, she lacked the will and energy to deal with her intended. However, she knew him well enough to know that it would invite further troubles to turn him away.

"Yes, please send him in. Thank you."

She went to the small mirror and quickly checked over herself and her outfit, refusing to give him any reason to criticize something about her today.

"Be nice, T'Challa," she whispered as she fixed the high pony her braids were in. She chuckled lightly at the look of pure disgust coloring her usually mild-tempered brother's face. "I will settle for a lack of open hostility then," she muttered after acknowledging his inaudible no.

Hasani wasted little time before barging into her office. He was aesthetically gorgeous, the epitome of the American adage: tall, dark and handsome. His face was pulled into a permanent scowl but he knew how to turn on the charm and pull out his award-winning smile when required. Aside from T'Challa, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Wakanda. Women in the Merchant Tribe were in an Olympic-style race to gain his affections, to be the last one standing. His courtship with the Princess? A mere hurdle to jump over for many. Their relationship did little to curtail the women vying for his affection, nor had it stopped Hasani from accepting their advances.

"T'Challa," he greeted, not bothering to address his king by his proper title or salute.

If looks could kill, the young man's soul would have been halfway to meet Bast in person. However, her brother quickly recovered and maintained his cool, understanding that Hasani wanted a rise out of him.

Hasani knew the two siblings in the Golden Trio despised him. But it was clear to all parties involved that he did not care.

"Asha," he greeted her shortly. "I would like to speak alone."

"Uh, yes... of course. Brother, could we get a few moments alone?"

T'Challa nodded, "Yes, we have a meeting in 10 minutes in preparation for your trip and meetings with Lord M'Baku. Shuri has sent everything you need to get started to your tablet and beads."

The hug he bestowed was quick and the head nod in Hasani's direction barely noticeable as he made his exit. Asha was thankful to him and Bast for the out her brother just gave her. She only had to suffer for 10 minutes before she had an excuse to get him out of her office.

"Lord M'Baku?" Hasani asked disgusted. "Why on Earth would you have a meeting with him?"

Asha sat down on the edge of her desk, "I am surprised your mother did not mention it. He is a member of the Council now and he and the King tasked me with serving as a liaison to the Jabari as they integrate into Wakanda."

"I don’t know why those savages would want to join nor why T’Challa would let them."

Asha’s face pulled up in frustration at his bias toward the Jabari. "They are not savages. Living differently and valuing different things does not mean they are less Wakandan. And that is the point of these meetings, to lea-."

"Very well. Just ensure it does not interfere with our engagement announcement. My mother has spent a great deal of time coming up with a plan," he interrupted her, seemingly bored by and uninterested in her new project and job.

Asha went back and forth mentally on whether it was worth it to inquire about this plan. She knew she needed to know the details, despite not being consulted on it in the first place. But she did not want to prolong this or spend anymore time with Hasani than she needed to prior to their marriage. She always thought that arranged marriages were primitive. For a country as advanced as Wakanda, she could not fathom why her father would essentially give her away when she was too young to choose or consent herself. And now she would never get an answer. Though she supposed she would be ungrateful to complain, she would not find someone to marry and love on her own, not in these circumstances. But she knew she was not signing up for eventual love and potential happiness. These were things a marriage to Hasani could never bring her.

To her father's credit, he pushed off their official courtship as long as he could, citing her "illnesses" and poor health. She knew it had far more to do with maintaining his lies than her happiness. But she wasn't complain. However, months earlier, Elder Shani demanded he stop pushing and her freedom ceased.

The early days of their courtship were complicated, proof that the web of lies her father had weaved was not sustainable. Everyone else knew it, that the web would unravel eventually... everyone except him. Elder Shani was never shy in spreading her doubt that nothing was physically wrong with the young princess, that her isolation or the delay of their marriage was due to something entirely different. She certainly wasn’t the only person across the country who conjured conspiracy theories as to what was actually wrong with her, being a mutant was at the top of the list. She was surprised that the charade lasted as long as it did. But she guessed the palace staff who knew the truth also knew that her father was not a ruler to be trifled with. Underneath his kind disposition, there was certainly a figurative fire and ruthlessness that most people knew to avoid.

Their initial dates and visits were brief and supervised but still pleasant. She enjoyed his company, was taken by his thoughtfulness and empathy. He seemed perfect initially.

However, after a small argument about her not wanting to go on a date outside the palace walls, Hasani confirmed his mother’s suspicions that his future wife was not sick at all. She was a mutant.

Asha hoped his mother would call off the engagement, she hated mutants after all. But instead, she realized that, for some, greed and power were far more motivating than hate. Shani promised to maintain her secret in exchange for more influence and power on the Council and the position of Commander of the Wakandan military forces for her son.

It took little time for Asha to realize that any hope that the pair could be happy together was gone, that he inherited his mother's bias toward people like her. Now, of course, she saw the red flags as if they were waving in a sea of white... no longer obscured or hidden. His controlling nature, his abuse, his philandering ways.

He made it abundantly clear that he would never love her, protect her, or affirm her as a husband should. That was devastating to her at first but like she had done countless times before, she quickly accepted her fate. No amount of prayers or tears would get her out of this one. The chains of her obligations were tight and heavy, restricting her in a dark cell with no hope of escape. She wanted to hate him, cast him as the villain in all this. And in some ways, he was. But he was just as burdened by chains as she was, both pawns in their parents’ quests to gain or maintain their grips on power. Every time she saw him, that was all she saw: them chained too far apart to be any comfort to the other in that dark room for the rest of their lives.

"Was anyone going to inform me of this plan?

"I am informing you now," he answered coolly. "First, I will be your date to the Caanan state dinner this weekend. You will attend my mother's birthday party the week after the announcement, you will accompany on tours of the Merchant Tribe's provinces so the people can meet you."

"I-I was not planning on attending the dinner on Satur-"

"I was not asking," he snapped. "We are going. I need to begin meeting with heads of state. I trust you have something decent to wear? I can't have you looking like this on my arm. You should work out with the Dora before the festival, lose a few pounds."

And there it is.

Asha knew it was coming, the harsh criticisms and snipes. Every conversation was filled with them. It never mattered what it was: her powers, her appearance, her intellect. Every conversation was a battle and since she was unable to use her only weapon, she always walked away with the wounds and bruises.

"I did not realize I needed to lose weight," she mumbled, looking down at her body. She tried not to let his words bother her, after all this was pretty commonplace at this point in their relationship. She could feel the panther beating against her cage, baring her teeth, body filled with the desire to attack the person hurting her owner. But she thanked Bast that the bars around the monster were thick. Killing her intended would not help her case much.

"Well, you do. And I assume you will wear those to ensure there are no issues at any of these events? Do not embarrass me."

Her eyes flickered away from his as the threatening tone of her last statement settled in her mind. Physically, there was nothing he could do to hurt her and he knew it. But emotionally, there was all sorts of damage he could cause and he knew that too.

Asha nodded, eyes trained on the ground. "Yes, I will wear them. As I always do."

"Good, I cannot have you revealing your illness to the entire tribe and dragging my name into the gutter with you."

"Yes, I understand. Is that all, Hasani?" she asked quietly, desperate to get him out of her office, to be alone.

"Yes. I will see you on Saturday. Do not be late."

He got up without saying goodbye and stalked out of her office. Tears stung the back of her eyes as his words oscillated through her head. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, refusing to let any fall for him.

Useless… an embarrassment.

She shook her head, not wanting to contemplate all the times she heard those words before or fall down the rabbit hole of painful memories. She took a few deep breaths, trying to bring her emotions back to neutral. She didn't want T'Challa to see her like this, give him any more reasons to hate Hasani.

Once she felt more in control of the beast within, she gathered her tablet and walked across the hall to her brother's office. She had a trip to prepare for and time wouldn’t wait for her to get it together.

***

Tuesday arrived faster than Asha anticipated and now instead of being cooped up in her library, she was zooming through the mountains toward Jabariland. This is a far more enjoyable way to travel here, she thought to herself, thinking back on her first journey there on foot. She enjoyed the views as Ayo flew them toward the Great Lodge. Immediately, Asha thought to the times Baba was out of the country and T'Challa and Shuri would take her out in the Royal Talon. They would fly around and just marvel at the beautiful landscapes of Wakanda: the rainforest, the rushing waterfalls, the vast sun-kissed fields, the snow-capped mountains. Every trip, they found a new hidden gem, a spot secluded enough for Asha to see but for no one to see her, the rare opportunity to experience the country she called home.

The mountains were the one spot they couldn't venture too far into so now was her chance. She did wish Shuri and T'Challa were there with her. There first trip here was rushed and emotional, there was little time to soak in the sights. But selfishly, she liked that there would finally be a place in Wakanda she could truly experience first. She looked out the Talon windows at the forests to see a fresh blanket of undisturbed snow covering every tree.

"We are here, your highness," Ayo called from her position in the cockpit.

Asha tore her eyes from the forest to her left as the plane settled on a small cliff. She nodded, a wave of nausea washed over her. Her anxiety settled in her stomach like a small ball as the end of their journey arrived. She was surprised at how quickly the ride transitioned from peaceful to nerve wrecking due to one simple sentence. Now instead of venturing farther into this winter paradise, she just wanted to turn around and scurry back to the comfort of her palace. The stakes were unbearably high for her... her first official task representing the Golden Tribe. She couldn't mess it up.

"Thank you, Ayo. See you in a few days."

She motioned for Alexis to follow her down the ramp into the snow-covered cliff. The familiar smell of ash immediately invaded her senses and the cold air hit her hard initially as she stepped off the ramp. Her body quickly jump started its own heating system, her flames brewing beneath the surface causing the frigid cold to become pleasant within seconds. She felt bad disrupting the soft snow, hearing the soft crunch beneath her feet as they approached a small group of Jabari waiting for them. She regarded the young man at the head of the pack with great interest, controlling her facial expression to hide her disappointment that a certain someone was not a part of her welcoming party. She shouldn’t be surprised though given the coldness she experienced from him in their meeting earlier that week.

"Good afternoon your highness. Welcome to Jabariland. My name is N'Danna, I am Lord M'Baku's personal adviser. He regrets that he was unable to retrieve you himself, he is tied up in meetings this evening. However, he will see you in the morning for breakfast. One of our guards, Kide," he motioned behind him as a stone-faced young man stepped forward, "will be escorting you during your stay. Anything you need at all, please let him know. This way, your highness."

Asha nodded, "Thank you!"

She offered him a soft smile before following behind him. Daylight was starting to fade, giving way to the soft yellows and oranges of sunset before the darkness of nightfall. She glanced off to her right and off the cliff her ship landed on. She could see the edge of the village below them and the wooden profile of a larger-than-life statue of Hanuman that held the Great Lodge up on the side of the mountain. She stood for a few minutes, just admiring the sunset over the mountains. Sunsets in Wakanda were unlike anything in the world, she knew they would be equally as breathtaking here.

"This way, your highness," he called again as he walked toward the glass door on the side of the Lodge. Despite her longing, she quickly fell into a step behind him. "Don’t worry, Princess Asha. We have sunsets everyday here, I will make sure we carve out time to see it. They are truly breathtaking."

Asha blushed slightly, her adoration for the view must have been evident to everyone.

"Thank you, I would appreciate that. We are just very excited to be here," she called after him.

"We are excited to have you. And we will have extra blankets brought to Alexis's room. The cold does take some adjusting."

She glanced at Alexis to see that the woman was indeed shivering, despite being wrapped tightly in a border tribe blanket. Asha nodded and thanked him before silence fell over the group again.

N’Danna briskly walked them to their rooms in the palace, only stopping once when Asha slowed down to see the gardens in the center of the Lodge. She made a mental note to find a spare moment to visit the gardens.

"You should meet the royal gardener as well. I believe you would like him," N’Danna called over his shoulder as he resumed his trek toward the residential wing of the Lodge.

"Here we are. You can go to the dining room for dinner if you choose. However, we are sure you both are tired so we completely understand if you would like it delivered to your room instead. Just let Kide know what you wish to order. Again, anything you should need, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you N'Danna."

They shared salutes before Alexis and Asha retreated to their respective rooms.

Her room was slightly larger than her accommodations the first time around. The bed was certainly inviting, covered with soft black fur blankets. The fire was always lit across the room, not that she needed it. There were gorilla statues across the room and a small one of a panther, which she guessed was added to make them feel at home.

Asha stared at the bed longingly. All she wanted to do was wrap herself in those soft furs, but she remembered the mountain of readings she still needed to complete to be fully prepared for tomorrow. She, instead, settled on the small couch in front of the fire and set to work, refusing to embarrass her brother or herself.

Her stomach growled slightly, making her consider going down to dinner. She wanted to have it delivered to her room but she knew she wouldn't get to see him if she stayed cooped up in her room all night. She couldn't deny the tinge of disappointment that he did not greet her when she arrived. She was sure he had better things to do but she wanted to see him. She hoped he was warmer today than he was the last time they spoke.

Wishful thinking, she thought to herself before redirecting her energy to the work in front of her, shaking her head slightly. She needed to push out all the distractions, immerse herself in her job, that was the only way she would be able to ignore these feelings... the only way to ignore him.

***

"It was rather rude of you not to welcome our guest earlier," N'Danna remarked as he glanced up from the pile of paperwork in front of him.

"I was busy, a day full of meetings," M'Baku responded casually, not taking his eyes off the paper in front of him.

"As yes, your riveting meeting with my father so you could listen to his many complaints about your leadership style... a meeting you had been putting off for a week but mysteriously added to your schedule just this morning. I know you just could not postpone that any further. That, coupled with your coldness on the phone calls with her over the last two weeks... you should be nicer to her, M'Baku. She was quite disappointed that you were not there."

M'Baku rolled his eyes, frustrated by his best friend and adviser’s need to stick his nose and mind every place it did not belong. But his ears did pick up on his last statement.

She wouldn't have been disappointed if she didn't have feelings for me... right?

"I was perfectly pleasant to her, despite being a low lander.

"Yes, you were perfectly cold and just shy of being rude to her. But you are right, disappointment does imply feelings and yes, she is quite beautiful," he added slyly at the end.

"I never told you she was beautiful! Stop doing that, my mind is not yours to pick at," he snapped. The corner of N'Danna's lips curled into a slight smile, knowing that his chief's bark held no bite.

"Really? I find that hard to believe given the fact that your mind is just an express train of thoughts about Princess Asha. Everything else is merely a rest stop along the way before you jump back in the conductor's seat. But I understand. Pushing her away to try and stop thinking of her makes sense. It is frustrating."

"You know your psycho-analyzing is not worth much when you are stealing all the information directly from someone’s mind right? I wish you would consider some personal form of policing yourself and those powers of yours. Besides, it doesn't matter what my mind says... she is taken, engaged."

"I cannot turn it off anymore than I can turn off breathing. But I am sorry, I know you don’t like it. Why are you so upset about her engagement if you are not interested in her?"

M’Baku cut his eyes, opting for anger instead of a real conversation with his friend.

"I can finish the rest of these myself. That is all for this evening N’Danna. Thank you."

N’Danna sighed, "You do not want to talk about it, I understand. But I am the one person you cannot hide from M’Baku, at least not forever. So it would not kill you to actively share every once in a while. Good night."

He nodded as his friend turned and left his office. M’Baku was as annoyed as ever. Two weeks since the Council Meeting, two weeks since he had last laid eyes on her and the tug he had for her had yet to diminish, despite his extensive efforts. He only spoke with her over the phone to avoid looking at her, he was cold toward her during those conversations, he invited a different Jabari woman to his bed almost every night, he refused to welcome her when she landed. So much hard work and thought into the simple act of dampening his feelings toward her. And yet, it was as if the moment her soul entered his home, all his hard work flew out the window as fast as the Talon left Jabariland. He didn't need to physically see her or be in the same room to know she was present and desire nothing else but to be around her. No amount of dispassionate sex, coldness or time seemed to change that.

You can't have her... and even if she was not engaged. You don't deserve her. Why would she want to be with someone ordinary? His subconscious whispered to him.

He sighed deeply. Why would she want to be with someone like him? There was nothing special about him... nothing extraordinary. He was perfectly average... a part of the group that was not chosen.

She deserved someone just as extraordinary as she was. Someone who understood her gift. And that was not him. He had learned a long time ago how to live with things he cannot change, and accept disappointments. He could do it now too. He did not have a choice.

He shook his head before burying it back in his work. This was the only thing that would help him move on and forget about her.

****

Early evening transitioned into night as Asha worked, checking, double-checking and triple checking the working treaty and paperwork T'Challa sent with her to iron out. She wanted to be able to answer any question he could throw at her, defend any clause or identify a solid solution. She knew that level of attention and detail would show the Jabari that the Golden Tribe cared, that they could offer ideas and then adjust to their way of life. By the time midnight fell, Asha finally felt prepared enough to rest.

Asha knew she could just absorb the fire in the hearth in front of her and have enough energy to not sleep for days but she didn't want to be up staring out the window all night. She watched the snow fall for a bit before deciding that she was too anxious to rest anyways. She paced, contemplated solutions before she realized that staying in this room would not cure her anxiety but a late-night visit to the library could. She pulled on her shoes and a light sweater and crept out of her room.

After wandering around for a bit, she realized she had no idea where she was heading. She was hoping to easily find her way back to the library but she seemed to be just walking aimlessly. She was so in her head that she did not hear footsteps approaching until they were directly behind her.

"Your highness?"

"Oh my Bast!" she yelped, turning around quickly to find N’Danna standing behind her.

She clutched her chest as she tried to right herself, slightly embarrassed for being so easily shaken in front of a high ranking member of the tribe and a few soldiers.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just heading home for the evening and thought I heard someone." he offered.

She was slightly surprised at the warm reception she was getting, the lack of confusion over her ambling around their palace at night. He didn’t seem confused or annoyed by it. Instead, he just eyed her with gentleness and curiosity.

"No, no. Please do not apologize. I should be apologizing, wandering around at night. It was rude of me. I was just hoping to find th-"

"The library?" he finished for her.

She blinked a few times at him, confused as to how he would know that.

"I am happy to show you before I leave. I was just finishing up some work with Lord M’Baku in his office." He motioned for her to follow him down the hall.

"He always works this late?" she asked curiously, wondering why he was not asleep at an hour like this.

Well he was not asleep the first night you met him either. A night owl, she thought to herself.

"Yes, our chief has always been a bit of a night owl. But there is so much behind the scenes work to rejoining Wakanda as you will see during this trip, treaties and such to draft, negotiate, etc. More than just attending a council meeting every month. So, he has been quite busy since the initial meeting. Likely why he asked for your help, we certainly need it."

It doesn’t seem like it, she thought to herself.

N’Danna laughed, seemingly at nothing. "I know, I know. It does not seem like it given his attitude. But you must excuse him. He can be rough and cold around the edges to outsiders, er… well Jabari outsiders. He is just protective of the tribe."

"Understandable. Well, I am happy to be here… excited to be here, truly. I do not want anyone to think I am coming here to change the Jabari. I am just here to serve in whatever capacity he and T’Challa need," she offered politely, choosing to ignore how the man managed to seemingly read her thoughts again.

N’Danna smiled, "We appreciate such willing-"

A door to their left swung open as Lord M’Baku stuck his head out of a door.

"N’Danna? Did you forget some-" his words faltered and he fell silent as his gaze shifted to Asha.

There was a pregnant pause as the trio simply stared at each other. Or rather, Asha and M’Baku stared at each other while N’Danna’s eyes bounced playfully between the pair like he was intently watching a riveting tennis match. A small knowing smile graced his face and he swayed slightly on his heels with anticipation, waiting for one of them to say something and seemingly enjoying their growing distress.

"No, I ran into the Princess as she was trying to find the library, I was just taking her that way," he answered, ending their misery.

M’Baku’s eyes narrowed, words returning to his voice and a knowing expression filling them.

"But the library is in the opposite direction? Did you forget where it was?"

N’Danna was not slick, M’Baku knew exactly what he was doing and he was not amused.

"Yes, I thought she would enjoy the scenic route," he answered casually, unbothered by the death glare he was receiving from his best friend and chief.

"The scenic route?" M'Baku repeated.

That leads her right by my office? He added in his head, knowing his best friend would hear it.

"The scenic route," N'Danna affirmed quietly, choosing to ignore the mental earful he was getting from his chief. "But it seems she is now in far more capable hands than I. Lord M’baku was just considering having a nightcap before retiring for the evening. Perhaps you can join him so he doesn't have to drink alone? You wanted to try Jabari rum yes? M’Baku has the best in his office."

Asha stared between the ground and M’Baku, torn between wanting to say yes and spend time with him and wanting to escape back to her room.

"Uhhh yes… if you are free. But if not, I will just find my way back to my room."

"No!" he almost shouted at her, his annoyance at N’Danna dissipating at the thought of spending time alone with her.

He knew it was pointless, what was the point in spending time with a woman pledge to marry someone else? He was dedicated to his mission to be as cold as he could but it was clear that was doomed from the start. His yearning for her only seemed to magnify, not shrink. He had not thought of anyone else but her all evening. He just wanted to be around her, learn about her, and soak up everything there was to know about her. It was selfish, he knew that. But he didn’t particularly care.

"I would love some company and he is right, I do have the best rum in the mountains."

"That is an offer I cannot refuse. Thank you N’Danna," Asha said, smiling at him.

He nodded with a smile, saluting M’Baku before briskly walking back in the direction he came. Asha stared at his back for a few minutes, trying to figure out what struck her about him… something odd. Not dangerous, just odd… it was as if he knew everything.

She walked into M’Baku’s office and immediately took in the smell. It smelled like him, which made a sigh of contentment almost escape her lips.

"Have a seat, please," he offered, motioning to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Apologies for my adviser. He has a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong."

He turned away from her, pouring her a glass and handing it to her.

"No need to apologize. He is very sweet... and helpful. He seems to know what I need before I even ask it," she laughed lightly.

"Yes, he... um... he has a certain knack for that I suppose. Well, let us raise a glass to new partnerships and new beginnings," he offered as he prompted her to raise her glass.

"To new partnerships and beginnings," she repeated before their glasses clinked and she took a sip.

"Many new beginnings for you. Are you excited for your engagement?" he asked. Asha paused before answering, detecting the thinly veiled bitterness in his tone.

"Uhh… yes, I suppose. Hasani is a good man, and will be leader of the Merchant Tribe. It is a good match."

"'You suppose...' 'It is a good match,'" M'baku repeated back to her. "Not necessarily what one would want to hear before getting engaged. What about love?"

"It is an arranged marriage… we do not love each other," she scoffed quickly.

Her eyes clamped shut immediately as she realized what she said. It was highly inappropriate to disparage her intended to another member of the Council. But there was some small part of her, a part she did not particularly understand, that needed him to know that this was not her choice, that she was a prisoner in all this.

"I-I am sorry, I should not speak like that to you as a member of the Council. Hasani is a great person. I pray Bast blesses us with a happy and prosperous life together."

Asha looked him in his eyes as she spoke and that made it so much harder. There was something in them that begged her to be vulnerable, to be honest, that pleaded with her to fall into the sea of him. And she wanted to... Bast she wanted to. But that was the issue with falling, the high of it was beautiful, thrilling. It fills you with inexplicable euphoria. But you never know what awaits you at the bottom: a calm oasis that envelops you in safety and warmth or the rough waves and jagged edges of rocks that end the thrill with deafening pain. Asha had no idea what awaited her at the bottom, in the sea that was Lord M'Baku, and the risks were too high to find out.

M'Baku let out a deep sigh but nodded, respecting her wishes not to be honest. But he saw it: the crack in her ironclad demeanor. He could tell he struck a nerve... the bright smile in her eyes that immediately fell at the mention of her engagement, the quickness of which she corrected him about the reasons behind it, the clearly forced words when she caught herself being too honest. But this girl's walls were high, and he was slowly putting the puzzle pieces of why together. It would take more than a few stolen moments in the dark in a library to break them down.

"No need to apologize, your highness. An arranged marriage though? How primitive. I would think the Golden Tribe would be more progressive. Are T’Challa and Nakia?"

"You would think wouldn’t you? And yes originally but they fell in love on their own, T'Challa encouraged her to become a War Dog... they drifted apart but love eventually helps things drift back together in the end. But things with T'Challa and Nakia were not as complicated."

"Because she is not gifted?"

Asha sighed, putting the glass down before responding, "Yes... it just complicates everything, every interaction and relationship. A nuisance I would not wish on my worst enemy," she muttered, more to herself than him, as she picked up her glass to take another sip. "This is very delicious by the way. Thank you."

He raised his glass in response. "So is that nuisance why you wear those rings?" He gestured down at her hands.

She sighed, "Yes. Without them... without them, I wouldn't be able to control it. I could hurt people, it- I am dangerous."

"You believe you are dangerous?"

She held his gaze for a moment, before it became too overwhelming and she looked back down at the cup of rum in her hand. She tilted the glass back and forth, watching the brown liquid moving around her wooden cup as she stared.

"You don’t?" She asked softly. "I could injure or kill someone without a second thought. You don’t think that makes me dangerous?"

"I think Hanuman doesn’t create weapons… I don’t worship Bast so I cannot speak for her but I would like to think she would not either. The Chosen are here to help elevate, advance or protect the Jabari and Wakanda. Yes, all of their gifts can be used as weapons when needed but that is their choice. Powers only become dangerous when we fail to foster the beauty in it. It seems no one has taken the time to foster the beauty of your gift. Perhaps that is why you feel that way?"

He doesn’t know what he is talking about. He has never seen what you can do. How you can hurt people.

"Perhaps. But very few people are willing to risk their lives for that, especially for us with powers capable of hurting others. Wakanda will never accept mutants, never consider them as anything other than a danger. Tolerate? Avoid open hostility? Maybe… But what you’re talking about? Respect, admiration... That will not happen in my lifetime. I can't even fathom what that would be like."

"Is that why you haven't read that book yet?"

Asha's eyes snapped up to look at her host, surprise coloring her face.

“How did you know?”

She didn't get it, how he knew her...saw her so clearly and vividly. She didn't want to admit he was right... that book that she had opened several times, read a few pages about the reverence the Jabari held for mutants only to close it angrily. The longing for a different life, a different custom too painful to bear.

He chuckled, “It was not that big of a leap to be honest. I figured if you read it, you have questions, want to know more about them. Since you haven’t asked about the Chosen yet, I took a stab in the dark.”

"I-I wanted to read it... I just haven't had the opportunity. I can give it back, I have had it too long, I suppose."

She avoided his eyes, opting to stare at a portrait of a couple across from her seat. She assumed they were his parents, both shared a striking resemblance to the man before her.

"No... I gave it to you. Keep it, until the opportunity arises." She nodded, refusing to catch his eye.

They sat in silence for a few moments, M'Baku staring a hole into her side of her face as she actively avoided his gaze.

"Well, thank you for the drink Lord M'Baku but I think I should retire for the evening. It is getting late."

"O-of course. Amari will show you back to your room." He quickly stood up and ushered her toward the door. They saluted each other before she turned to walk down the hall behind his personal guard.

"Princess Asha!"

She heard her name behind her causing her to turn around. She was secretly thankful, unready to say goodbye to him just yet. She turned around quickly, facing him again.

"I go on a morning walk every day. W-w-would you like to join me?" he stammered slightly, his nerves getting the best of him.

She smiled softly, having to bite down the immediate yes that almost fell from her lips. She knew it likely was not a good idea, spending more time with him would not help her. But simultaneously, she desired to be around someone who thought so highly of her.

"Y-yes, Lord M’Baku. I would like that very much."

He nodded before sliding back into the door frame of his office. "Good. Goodnight, your highness."

They saluted each other before she turned back down the hall with his guard leading the way, a bright small on her face as she went.

****

Asha tossed and turned throughout the night. She didn’t mind the lack of sleep except that the nights dragged on without it. She instead spent most of the night replaying her conversation with M’Baku in her head. She wished she could go back and relive it over and over again. She checked her beads every ten minutes it seemed to see if they were any closer to their morning date.

It’s not a date! She screamed at herself. Engaged princesses can’t go on dates.

Fine, not a date. A friendly walk between acquaintances? Friends. She settled on quickly. That is what they were… friends. It sounded far less appealing than how she truly wanted him. But that was all she could get. He didn’t feel that way about her, and even if he did, she had a fiancee in the way.

She huffed and flopped over in bed, annoyed with the voice of logic in her brain. She stared intently at the ceiling.

The guard told her that Lord M’Baku typically took his walk at sunrise. She waited and waited and waited until the alarm on her kimoyo beads, set to alert her 30 minutes prior to sunrise went off. She felt absurd, the way she nearly catapulted out of bed the moment her alarm rang in the still air once. But thankfully, there was no one around but Bast to witness it.

She threw on her outfit for the walk, a sweater, leggings and snow boots. It was casual but she paired it with some light makeup, like Shuri taught her. She still wanted to look her best.

She pulled half of her braids into a half up, half down style. She pulled her rings back on before examining herself in the mirror.

Asha never considered herself to be beautiful. She wasn’t ugly by far but beautiful? That was Nakia and Okoye… women that men sought after. But today, even she had to admit that she looked good. She adjusted herself in the mirror for one last moment before opening her door to find Kide.

He said nothing, responding to her "good morning" with a polite head nod before heading down the hall. She quickly followed after him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. Soon, they were at the front of the Lodge. Two guards framed the entrance of the Lodge as Kide led her down the staircase to meet Lord M’Baku.

"Good morning Princess," he said as she approached.

She replied with the same as she took in his fidgeting hands, the way he moved his weight from one side to the other as he stood, the lack of certainty in his eyes. She wanted to ease his anxiety somehow but how could she when she felt it too? She just was better at hiding it.

They set off down a path to the left of the Lodge. A comfortable silence fell over them as they listened to the rustling in the trees, the early morning calls of birds. They stole glances at each other every few minutes but otherwise, Asha simply enjoyed the walk.

They walked until they reached a small hill overlooking a creek in the forest. It appeared to be a hidden oasis, a picturesque scene plucked straight from a movie.

"This is beautiful," she marveled as they approached the rocks that led to a cliff over the creek.

"I know."

He motioned toward a few large rocks they could sit on at the top of the hill. He dusted the snow off before she sat down.

“Do you come here often?” She asked as she looked off the hill onto the creek.

She imagined it looked gorgeous in the summer with lush green grass, full trees and a babbling creek.

“Yes, N’Danna and I found it some time ago. It has been a secret haven for us ever since. He comes more than me though, for the solitude. For when he doesn’t want to hear anymore.”

Asha perked up, eyeing his profile, wondering how much she could probe.

“Doesn’t want to hear anymore? What does that mean?”

M’Baku smiled slightly, “I am shocked you hadn’t picked up on it by now, as a Chosen yourself. He can read minds… his ‘knack for anticipating your needs.’”

“Ohhhhh.”

Realization washed over her. She felt stupid really, now every interaction with him made even more sense. She stopped the wave of embarrassment from washing over her as well, refusing to think about what other thoughts he picked up swirling around her head about his chief.

“He wouldn’t bring up anything he heard to you or anyone else, just so you know. But sometimes, constantly hearing is too much for him so this spot helps. For me, it is just peaceful. I know it should be the temple but this is where I come to pray… be one with Hanuman.”

Asha nodded, “When I was young, there was a statue of Bast laying in the Royal Gardens. I used to sit next to her and read or pray and it was the only place in my small world that I thought Bast heard me, actually listened to me.”

M’Baku sensed the sadness in her voice, the tinge of pain in her eyes as she spoke of the past. “‘Used to?’”

“I don’t really pray anymore,” she whispered, pressing her hand into a new patch of snow next to her. M’Baku watched as the snow around her hand immediately melted into a puddle of water, the heat flush under her skin too much to allow it to stay in its solid form.

“What kind of God curses children as Bast did me? My father used to call it an abomination. It is hard to believe… it is hard to trust in a God who does things like that.”

“What did your father have against mutants?”

Asha looked off to the side, her eyes trained on the tree branches weighed heavily with snow.

“He believed that Bast only ordained one enhanced being in Wakanda… the Black Panther. You are not born with it. By winning the tribal combat, by surviving the visit to the Ancestral Plane… Bast chooses you. Her power, her gift chooses you. You earn it. He took offense to anyone being born with powers he had to earn. It is the opposite of your custom. We were not chosen and so, in his mind, our existence is against her will.”

“If only you had been born here instead of with the lowlanders. Things would have been different.”

“Yes, I suppose they would have. But then I wouldn’t have T’Challa and Shuri… Nakia, Okoye and Ayo… Alexis,” she listed.

M’Baku smiled to himself as he saw her face light up at the list of people she had in her life. It was probably the first genuine smile he had seen on her face when she was talking about home.

Silence fell over the two as they sat, they watched the sun finish rising high in the sky before M’Baku stood and helped her up.

“My home life isn’t all tragic and sad, you know?” she said randomly as they found their way back to the trail that would lead them back to the Lodge. “I feel like it may seem that way, given our conversations but there is good there too. My life isn’t overflowing with amazing people, I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet many people honestly. But the people that are there… the love that is there… It is bright, it sustains me through everything. I wish some things were different, it is true. But all of them make my life worth living.”

“I don’t doubt it. I saw your grief, your relief when you saw T’Challa. I imagine there are few siblings with a bond as deep as yours. I don’t mean to judge your life or the lowlanders. I just believe you and people like you deserve more. Which is why I would like to ask you to do something for me as my guest here.”

“Yes?”

“I would like you to not wear those rings for the rest of this trip.”

Her eyes bugged out of her head as his request cycled into her ears and registered in her brain.

“What? No. No. I am sorry Lord M’Baku but I do not think that is wise. I could lose control… burn your house down, hurt someone. It is too great a risk when I am supposed to be here winning the affections of your people.”

He laughed, “You think you are so out of sync with your powers that taking those off for a few days would lead to a forest fire? You did not seem to have this many reservations in the library that night? Or was a room full of paper books not as important? You are afraid to truly let your powers show and I understand given the way you were raised. But you are only here for three days… You wish things were different yes? Here they can be. Why spend the next three days hiding when you have to go back to that when you leave? This is the one place in Wakanda that you do not have to hide. Enjoy it.”

His proposition did sound alluring… freedom for more than just a few moments. She was still hesitant though. She hadn’t been without her rings for more than a day or two since she was a teenager. And had she become so accustomed to pretending to be someone else that she forgot how to be herself? She never learned how to effectively use her powers, she didn’t even know the extent of them. Hell, she had no idea she could float, possibly fly, until her breakdown after T’Challa’s death. How many more abilities did she have that she didn’t even know about. Was now, as a guest in someone else’s home the best time to find out?

What other time or opportunity would you have? You certainly can’t do so at home. He is right, now is the rare moment to be free.

Her slender fingers fiddled with the delicate rings on the opposite hand as she looked up at him with eyes filled with skepticism. There it was again… that indescribable thing about him that made her want to fall. She could feel it too, every moment she was with him, he pulled her closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. She would pull back and he would be right there tugging her forward again.

He smiled at her, his eyes filled with mischief and delight as her fingers started pulling one ring off after another. Before she knew it, she could feel the tension in her body release, feel the panther slowly ease out of her cage. She took a step back from him as sparks and smoke emanated from her hands. She took a few deep breaths, regulating her body’s response until they stopped. He gave her an encouraging nod as he took a step toward her. It was not tentative or hesitant like people have done in the past. It was deliberate and confident, as if he was determined to let her know that he was not afraid of her.

“Deal,” she said softly.

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both noticed soft embers rising between them. She had only seen those once before, with him in the library, and now she wondered if that was her body’s natural response to the affection she felt toward him.

“U-um, we should head back yes? I don’t want your guard to think I kidnapped their chief,” she chuckled awkwardly.

He nodded and they set back on their way, their bodies closer together, hands brushing against each other every few steps. Asha anticipated it, longed for that brief physical contact each time. It provided warmth and comfort her body hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Before she knew it, they were back in the Lodge and standing outside her door.

“Well this is where I leave you. I will see you in,” he quickly checked his watch for the time,” two hours for our first meeting, your highness?”

“I will be there,” she answered as she pushed against the heavy wooden door that lead to her room. “Oh Lord M’Baku? I now have a request for you. It is just Asha. No your highness or Princess. Just Asha.”

A big grin spread across his face as he took in her request. “Ok then, ‘just Asha.” Only if you call me M’Baku.” He held his hand out for her to shake on their new deal. She started to raise her hand before remembering their previous deal and quickly clutched it to her chest.

“We will work up to that, yes?” He retracted his hand and let it fall back to his side.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, giving her one last longing look before heading down the hallway.

“M’Baku!” She called after him, unable to let their last private moment for the day pass without saying one final thing. “Thank you,” she said as he turned around to look at her again.

He offered her another smile and a head nod before turning back around. The thank you required no explanation, he knew what it meant and knew it was unnecessary. He didn’t deserve a thank you for recognizing her humanity. He was just excited to realize that those high walls were coming down brick by brick. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared for what lays behind them but he knew it would be glorious.

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219

#Black Writers #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #black panther fics #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku x oc

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blurrypetals · 3 years

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Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare - blurrypetals review

originally posted dec. 9, 2018 - ★★★★★

A-T. L-A-S-T.

I am so absolutely overwhelmed by everything that I've experienced in the last few days while listening to this. As Cassandra Clare's longest book to date, a whole dang fuckin' lot happens in this book. To sort my way through this review, the following paragraphs are gonna be chock full of a whole dang fuckin' lot of untagged spoilers, so continue at your own risk. I do think you're doing yourself a huge disservice if you do read this review before you've read the book, though. It's also incredibly likely I'll drop a spoiler or two on every Shadowhunters book so, if you're here and you have not, for some reason, read The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices, the other two books in The Dark Artifices trilogy, and all of the short stories in The Bane Chronicles, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, and Ghosts of the Shadow Market, I implore you to amend that, to go and read those fourteen books and this fifteenth book before reading this review, just in case I ruin anything for you by accident. Okay, now that's out of the way, let's talk about sequels and how to finish a grand, epic fantasy story. It was difficult for me to not compare this book to three other books. The first two are, of course, Cassandra Clare's other finales, City of Heavenly Fire and Clockwork Princess. This handily bowls City of Heavenly Fire straight under the table because, even though City of Heavenly Fire is still a 5-star book, it's the weakest of The Mortal Instruments hexalogy and, other than perhaps The Bane Chronicles, it's also maybe the weakest in The Shadowhunter Chronicles in its current entirety. Clockwork Princess, by contrast, however, is, in my opinion, the best of the entire series. As a finale, Queen of Air and Darkness here sits comfortably as the second best Shadowhunters finale yet. So much happens in this book. It's split into three different parts which could have easily been split into three shorter books with near-perfect three act structures in place for each of them, making this book a nine act book with two "false" climaxes that would have made for quite the cliffhangers if they had been split up for any reason. The first act deals with the aftermath of Livia's death and, because it has a lot of rising action, it's actually a little frustrating in some ways, even if it was frustrating in an incredibly enjoyable way. One of my absolute favorite scenes in the whole book is Julian running to Magnus for help in the middle of the night because it so perfectly mirrors the scene in Clockwork Prince when another blue eyed boy named Will Herondale was at the end of his rope, desperate not to love a girl he was cursed not to be with. I loved the contrast between a Herondale's plea for salvation and a Blackthorn's last hope to avoid damnation, separated by a hundred years yet tied by the same plight and the same warlock's magic. Emotionless-Julian was a really compelling read, even if I was almost as angry and frustrated with him and Magnus as Emma was. I loved to hate how cold and calculating he became without his love and compassion around to guide his moral compass. I hated his betrayal of Emma so fucking much it hurt but I've always loved Julian's ruses, schemes, and plans, and his dealings with the Seelie Queen, the Black Volume, and a skilled calligrapher and wizard called OfficeMax. Damn. So fucking good. Also, speaking of Julian's plans and schemes, his war council and Livia's Watch is one of the most satisfying scenes in The Shadowhunter Chronicles as it currently exists; I'm so proud of my son. He is so great. Hot diggity. Speaking of reminders from past stories, we get the entire cast of The Mortal Instruments during a lot of this book. I was really excited anytime we ran into anyone from The Mortal Instruments, especially the part when Julian and Emma ended up being thrown in the same Unseelie prison as Jace and Clary were and that was Jace and Clary's first appearance in the whole novel. It could have easily gotten overwhelming; I was, in fact, rather worried that Jace and Clary would steal the spotlight for a good spell in the final act of the book, but they didn't, since Emma and Julian were, eh...too big to ignore, and the book even ends with the long-awaited Bane-Lightwood wedding of the centuries, but the story proper closes on Julian and Emma on the beach together. Even though The Wicked Powers is still yet to come, this book felt like a huge culmination of all fourteen of the prior books in a huge way. We had Jem and Tessa from The Infernal Devices, we had Jace, Clary, Simon, Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus from The Mortal Instruments, and we had Emma, the Blackthorns, and all their friends and allies from this series and it felt huge. I also felt the weight of what's to come in a super hardcore manner when it came to Kit and Ty, Dru and Jaime, and, of course, Ash. I genuinely feel as though I can't wait any longer to see how Kit and Ty's stories turn out. I'm especially pleased by the fact that Jem and Tessa decided to adopt Kit and that Kit will have the family he's longed for his whole life and, not only will he have two capable people parenting him through the rest of his adolescence, but he'll also have that younger sibling he's been longing for, someone he can teach and take care of in the way he wasn't when he was small. I really hope at least one of the two forthcoming Ghosts of the Shadow Market stories focuses on Kit and his new life and new home with Jem, Tessa, and hopefully their new precious tiny one. Thoughts of the future of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in Drusilla, Kit, Ty, and, specifically, Ash, bring me back around to the second section of the book, which is the most absolutely bananas thing Cassandra Clare has ever written but is also actually incredibly compelling. I fucking loved the alternate universe stuff, everything to do with the exciting return of not-Jace, the introduction of alterna-Livia, other-Cameron, and living-Raphael (especially the part where he begged Emma and Julian to tell Magnus and Alec to rename Rafael; I was in tears laughing about all of that biz), and the temporary absence of emotionless-Julian and how he and Emma ended up healing so much of their relationship there. I also am so totally down with not-Jace being the main villain of The Wicked Powers, or at least a main villain. I am really impressed with Cassie—which, when am I not, honestly?—in the way that second section of the book was written. It felt like a huge love letter to me as a longtime and dedicated fan of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in general because we got to see these, for lack of a better term, a fanfiction AU turned canon that doesn't read like a fanfiction in the least bit because it remains relevant, interesting, tense, and important the whole way through, even though it's literally a gigantic non-sequitur that some could argue is "pointless." I am not one who would argue that, though, because I loved it so damn much. It gave me what is probably my favorite Emma and Julian scene in all of The Dark Artifices, just after they return to the resistance stronghold. You know the scene. Okay, rapid fire because I could honestly go on forever about this book; I pinned 108 different clips throughout this book, which is the most pins or post-its I've ever put in one single book before. I adored the fact that Simon gave Julian his iron Lord Montgomery figurine before he and Emma left Idris. Michael Wayland's ghost showing up for Robert Lightwood's funeral fucked me up in a super hardcore way and the fact that Kit was the only one who could see him or even sense his presence really got to me and I really teared up because Bitter of Tongue from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy absolutely wrecked me and this poked at that wound. Everything in regards to Mark, Cristina, and Kieran was incredibly sweet, sex positive, loving, trusting, and healthy and I just...gah they are perfect. A most excellent thruple, one for the ages. A great many of my pins have something to do with Kit growing into his inborn Herondale talent of being a master in snark (think candy gram and "Alas, poor Yorick,"). Everyone in the alternate realm being grossed out by endarkened-Emma's and endarkened-Julian's PDA was hilarious. Julian realizing art requires pain and morality about snapped my sad tiny bird heart clean in half. Feline death on a massive scale. Anytime Jace's more playful, youthful side showed because he's a happy boi now was delightful, especially the parts where he wanted to get to hold the mortal sword and when he declared, "We're the bait!" Magnus hallucinating was great, but my favorite hallucination was when he was flirting with a vase like it was Alec and then very seriously offering to buy it from the Institute. I also loved it when Magnus called Clary "biscuit". It made my heart all soft and nostalgic. Julian's smile at Emma when he got his emotions back tot me emotional, dammit! Caterina meeting Kit for the first time made my heart feel like it was too large for my body. Jace using finger guns, because finger guns are always hilarious. Dru realizing she was looking at the face of a parent when she looked at Julian. Kit responding to being called "Herondale," when Magnus said, "Stay away from my children, Herondale." Emma telling Diana that she showed her the kind of woman she wanted to be. Emma's terrible pun about Manuel being tied up. "Ragnor Lives." An old lady accidentally complimenting Julian on being tall. Emma and Julian deciding to go to the other at the exact same time. Alec would look better on the money. Mark trying (and failing) to make balloon animals and accidentally making them all snakes. That's not even a third of them all. Near the beginning of the review, I said I was having a difficult time avoiding comparing this book to three other books, two of which were past Shadowhunters books. The third book, however, is Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas, which is another very long final book in a series, one that somehow managed to get voted as the best YA fantasy of 2018 and, because of that slap in the face, I couldn't help but wonder how this book, technically the fifteenth in a series, managed to feel fresh, new, fun, and lovable from minute one to hour thirty of the audiobook even though this is the fifteenth time I've experienced a book in The Shadowhunter Chronicles for the first time and I've never come close to feeling the same sort of apathy or anger as I do for Sarah J. Maas and Throne of Glass. This is how you end a series. This is how you end one part of your series. This is how it's done. Take notes, everyone else. Get on Cassie's level.

#queen of air and darkness #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #2018 #goodreads mirror #blurrypetals

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kitaychan · 3 years

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White Flame

Chapter 2

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, Psychological Horror

General Summary: Royal/ Magical AU. As their two Kingdoms get closer to a war, the past keeps on hovering around their choices. Prince Ivan has a hard time controlling his magical powers while being tormented by a mysterious ghost and Prince Alfred embarcs in seeking a revenge that might cost more than it’s worth it.

Preview: He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

Maybe he was just a boy.

Ivan wasn’t sure of what had happened.

The luncheon had been peaceful, his mother was sitting there, preferring hot chocolate over the delicious pork that Ivan requested, she was a bit paler than normal but it wasn’t strange, these days the palace was colder, perhaps winter would come earlier.

Katya, his sister was nibbling the dessert when his father arrived, scowling as usual and refusing to eat, offering his drink to the queen. He complained about the newly acquired mage saying he was “fooling around instead of doing his work”. Ivan felt bad for the poor man, he remembered his father brought him along in the last trip, from a foreign land in the east.

Ivan had tried to caught the oriental man around the palace, curiosity was killing him, he wanted to ask about the customs, the stories about dragons that he heard from the knights, but his father wouldn’t allow him to, saying that the man was unwilling to share the secrets of their magic. Ivan didn’t blame him, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t share his magic with his father either.

The king reminded the boy about their practice the next day, as if he was reading Ivan’s thoughts, he underlined the importance of it as well as the obligatory nature of the task. Ivan wasn’t keen of their shared lectures, his father was always scolding him, calling him weak and lazy. It wasn’t his fault that the spells did not work, though, his unwillingness to utter them or cast them among defendless servants might have something to do with it.

The day had been so boring that he didn't remember much of it, just that he had to dinner alone while some servants walked around hurriedly.

When he lay in bed waiting for his mother to kiss him goodnight, he could distinguish the sound of a clock, marking each second, the sound was distant, echoing in the halls.

He pondered the idea of searching the clock but refrained from it, he didn't want a punishment for being out of bed.

Ivan, waited and waited until his eyelids closed and he drifted to sleep.

His mother didn't showed up that night.

In the morning as he was sleeping soundly in his bed, glad that his father had ceased taking him on those long and horrible trips and happy that his dreams didn’t turn into the constant nightmare with the bloodied wolf, he heard his sister sobbing.

She was by his side, waiting for him to wake up. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks stained with tears. Ivan didn't know what to do, she hugged him tightly, assuring that she was going to be there for him. For what? Ivan didn't know, he only nodded as his sister kept crying and mumbling nonsenses to him.

Two days later the weight of the situation was setting in his mind. His mother was not going to greet him in the mornings anymore, she wasn’t there to wake him from his nightmares and lull him into sleep again. Though, Katya was there as she said, she was clueless, she didn’t know why the gray wolf mounted in the trophy hall was covered. She didn’t understand why Ivan dreaded the weekly practices with their father.

Somehow, in a short span of time his father had managed to look even more menacing, whenever he casted his glance at him, Ivan felt as if he blamed him for his mother’s death.

Ivan had refused to prepare for the funeral. There were relatives he didn’t know around the palace giving him pitiful glances and some of them even dared to speak to him about his mother. How could they? they’ve never showed themselves when she was alive, why should he listen to them now?

When the third unknown relative approached him at the table, Ivan left behind his untouched meal and ran directly to his room. Kicking off his shoes and tossing the black coat they had made him wear.

After some minutes his father and Katya entered in his room. His sister proceeded to silently dress him back.

“You’ll go downstairs, greet everyone and stay until they go to sleep.” The glare his father gave him was enough for Ivan to understand he shouldn't talk back.

Katya’s voice was soft. “Father, perhaps we should let him rest. Vaneshka hasn’t slept very well as of lately.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, Yekaterina. Go and greet the guests.” The harshness of his voice made the siblings flinch.

While Ivan observed the way she was hurriedly tying his shoes, the thought that had been haunting him since he got the news from his mother’s death assaulted him once again.

Even when his sister promised to be there for him, which was precisely what she was doing. She had only a bit of influence in the palace.

Katya could not protect him from their father.

----

The day was sunny, the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind was all Natalya could hear, she was glancing out of the window, silent, she should be sleeping but she couldn’t, she was eager to go out of the carriage and spin around with that nice black dress her mother had prepared.

Today she was finally going to visit his cousin, her mother was always talking about him, telling her how to behave in front of him. Each year the king gifted her a portrait alongside some silk ribbons, she made sure to wear one each day.

She hadn't seen him since he was five years old or so they said, she didn’t remember very well, but it was not her fault to be younger than him, it was a miracle she knew whom they were talking about. But it didn’t matter, she knew that he was just as charming as they had told her. After all his father always said that she deserved nothing less than a prince. Natalya imagined he had to be just like that, a prince, just like the tales her mother read to her at night.

When the time finally came, Natalya glued herself to the carriage's window, to get a glimpse of him, they would be arriving soon. She admired the city, the ornamental gate, the beautiful gardens, the entrance with the servants all dressed in black.

Stepping out of the carriage, she observed in awe at the beautiful and obviously bigger palace his cousin lived in.

The doors were opened and she finally saw him.

He was dressed in a simple way, at least in comparison to her, who had been hours trying to look as well as possible. She greeted him and he responded shyly, hiding behind his sister.

To Natalia, it was confusing, she was expecting him to take her hand or to bring flowers like in the fairytales but she supposed it was going to happen later, after all they were just children, he was nine years old.

After the boring ceremony held for the deceased queen, her mother sent her to speak with the prince, to cheer him up.

Natalya complied, chatting and starting a silly game of hide and seek in the gardens. She let him win, that’s what her mother instructed her to do. It would make him happy but he looked bored and was more interested in the surroundings than in the game itself. Noticing this, Natalya tried to start a conversation.

“Do you like that tree?” she asked, leaning forward and trying to peek over his shoulder.

He pushed her back and sighed. “ No, I am looking at the bird in it.” Then he pointed at a branch in the tree.

There was in fact a gray bird with white and black rings around the neck and a fluffy white belly. Natalia thought it was a pretty simple bird, this wasn’t the kind of conversation her mother had said he’d be interested in, instead he was just as any other boy she had talked with. Perhaps, her mother was wrong, this boy wasn’t a prince just yet, maybe he was just a boy.

Natalya decided to act naturally and not how she had practiced, stating her opinion. “I don’t know much about animals, I think they are noisy, especially birds. Do you like birds?”

There was a small silence and Natalya shifted uncomfortably, had she done something wrong?

Her cousin smiled. “Not really,” -he shrugged- “I just think that one is cute.”

Natalya smiled back and lifted an eyebrow. “Why? Is it because it’s gray, like the wolf?”

He tensed considerably. “No...I don’t know, it’s big and fluffy, it looks like it has a beard.”

Natalia looked up at the bird again and giggled. “it does look like it has a beard.”

He sat in the grass and scoffed. “If it had a hat it would look like your father.”

Natalya frowned, was that an insult?

“I don’t think so, it would resemblance the priest.” She said sitting beside him.

“The priest?”

She nodded. “Yes, didn't you see him?”

“He doesn't look like that.” he looked confused.

“He does, I talked with him. I asked him when I could marry” she whined putting her hands on her lap, playing with the fabric of the dress.

He just turned to look at the bird again.

She shook his shoulder “Aren’t you going to ask me when I can marry?”

He looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. "No. My father is always saying that my sister has to marry, that he’ll pick with whom, why would you want to know when you’ll marry? If father is ordering Katya to think about that it can’t be good. You shouldn’t be excited."

She shook her head. “That’s not true. My parents say that marriage is a good thing, that it brings joy and wealth. You’ll have to marry one day too.”

He seemed surprised as if the idea hadn’t cross his mind before. He crossed his arms and denied childishly. “I don't want to.”

Natalya laughed at his response. “Why not? I could be a nice queen and when you are the king you can get more of those birds. We will be very happy.”

He stared at the animal and frowned. “I don't want to be a king, I want to be that bird.”

Natalya kept laughing until his annoyed expression told her that he was talking seriously.

She took off the ribbon that kept her hair out of her face and folded it. “You can’t, people can’t be turned into animals but you can be a King and live very happy.”

----

Later that night, Natalya was sneaking to his room, she was going to give him a gift to show him her affection. She tiptoed through the corridor and opened his door slowly. The floor creaked under her tiny feet and he woke up, seeming startled to see her there. She put a finger on her lips motioning him to keep quiet.

She gave him a box and a kiss on the cheek and left the room closing the door behind her. She was giggling, waiting for him to open it and to go out and thank her.

What happened next was a blur to Natalya.

A shrieking scream resounded on the halls, some doors were opened, and she heard hasty steeps getting near.

She was pushed back and the door of his room opened. She saw him, sobbing with the bird on his hands, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. Then, he started shouting at her, she didn’t understand why, all she had done was to get that stupid bird for him and there he was speaking nonsense to her.

She started crying, the king entered the room and he stopped his noisy cries. The hateful glace the prince gave her when he stood up made her shriek, what had she done wrong? She kept sobbing in the hall, while the prince pointed at her and accused her with the king. The icy glare of the latter stayed in her memory for years after the incident, alongside the sound of the door closing in front of her.

#hetalia #aph russia #axis powers hetalia #aph belarus #aph ukraine #hetalia fanfiction #hws russia #hws ukraine #hws belarus #hetalia world series

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