#the thought of seeing her again makes me go insane with this ridiculous fucking anxiety which is stupid af cause i really do like her
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uni on monday. kicking myself into the sun.
#the uni groupchat is waking up again and when i saw the notifications on my phone i threw up in my mouth a little#i hate wrocław. i hate that uni. and i have such an insanely toxic relationship with the girl who's my uni-friend? ig?#the thought of seeing her again makes me go insane with this ridiculous fucking anxiety which is stupid af cause i really do like her#its just that arghhhhhhhhhh#anyway. the closer i am to monday the more i think about dropping out#also ive been doing so well with my ed. but going back means Going Back. so all that progress will probably go to shit all over again lmao#my internet is kinda working rn (not really it took like 10 hours for tumblr to load) so im using it to vent about uni hell yeah#sorry if you texted me and im not responding - the dms wont load 🫠
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Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!
thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:
Daniela:
ADD/ADHD representation
stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing
and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day
Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”
followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)
hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control
especially when she gets excited
Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice
“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”
“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”
she loves play-fighting with her sisters
Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit
(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)
has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray
and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations
so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea
tactile learner
will just. touch things
“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”
can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her
this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end
her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”
“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.
“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”
Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”
and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.
Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”
Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.
Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.
“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.
The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.
(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)
personal space? never heard of her.
loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.
will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”
Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*
Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*
(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)
Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”
Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”
Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”
it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.
Very Very Scary when mad
turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with
dangerous and violent
much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality
came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.
(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)
when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.
Insane Laugh™️
thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw
she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)
that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER
Bela:
Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl
needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother
INSOMNIAC
this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest
she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)
she has read almost every single book in their giant library
Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all
“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”
because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things
Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”
Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.
Dani, confused as fuck: ....
Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”
Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google
“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”
“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”
“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”
“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”
“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”
she is so quiet
and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves
just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach
even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something
Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....
Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”
refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task
Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.
(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)
Anxiety™️
sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.
overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist
this makes her prone to panic attacks :(
when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters
Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.
how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?
Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.
she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.
a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.
“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.
the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.
large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”
Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”
Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.
“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.
Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”
“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”
“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.
Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”
She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.
(am I projecting again? idk help)
can play the piano
no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano
this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel
she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly
she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf
while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.
“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”
Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”
and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.
*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.
#no seriously i’m having so much fun with this#resident evil#RE8#resident evil 8#resident evil 8: village#re8:v#resident evil headcanons#resident evil village#cassandra dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu headcannon#bela dimitrescu headcannon#daniela dimitrescu headcannon#alcina dimitrescu headcannon#mine#dimitrescu family#dimitrescu daughters
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what happened the first time Wes tried to crack open the Danny is Phantom conspiracy did he like, confront Danny first or was it all behind his back like, maybe hoping ground zero would be lost among the gossip and that Danny wouldn't find out who spilled the beans once everyone knew
I mean it obviously wouldn't work because nobody believed him and the gossip didn't take off very far beyond a few people talking about Wes being kinda weird
I should absolutely write a fic about this.
I am absolutely going to write a fic about this.
I AM RIGHT NOW GOING TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT THIS.
----
"Hey Fenton! Fenton!!" Dash came bounding over and threw a meaty arm around his shoulder.
"Jesus Dash! What?!" Danny buckled under the weight (pretended to anyway) as Dash gave him a surprisingly lighthearted punch on the arm.
"You haven't heard?! Wes has this total batshit insane theory, it's hilarious!"
Dash was in a genuine giggle-fit, Danny didn't think he'd ever seen him this merry, he was also starting to suspect he was going to leave this conversation being the butt of the joke somehow. Wait-
"Wes? Who the heck is Wes?" Danny asked, it wasn't like he knew everyone in school, like Dash seemed to.
"He's on the basketball team, you know, tall guy, red hair, threw a sick move at least month's game! You know, WES!"
"I didn't watch that game."
"Oh," said Dash, flatly, "Oh yeah, almost forgot you're a total nerd. Anyway, like I was saying!"
Dash grabbed Danny by the shoulders and nearly lifted him off the floor.
"Wes thinks," he could barely speak through his giggling, he even snorted a few times, "Wes thinks your secretly PHANTOM."
Dash dropped Danny back down as he doubled over laughing.
"Could you imagine?! You! You're not even DEAD!" Dash honest to god slapped his knee in mirth.
Danny went through an incredibly swift array of emotions in the span of about five seconds.
The first was fear, clear and bracing, then came confusion, how did he know? Had he seen something? Then there was hope, Dash didn't believe it, and if DASH didn't believe it, maybe nobody else believed it either. Then relief, he could roll with this, he could TOTALLY roll with this! Dash was right! It was absurd, it was ridiculous, it was hilarious, him being Phantom? What utter nonsense!
Sam and Tucker had been standing by his side at a Dash-safe distance, looking absolutely horrified. Sam looked ready to jump in and lay down a swift defence, but Danny gave a quick little low wave for her to stand down. He got this.
"Oh my god SERIOUSLY?" Danny busted out a slightly hysterical laugh, okay so he wasn't completely over the initial terrified anxiety.
"How could I- I mean what- WHY does he think I'M Phantom?! I mean how does that even work I don't-"
Dash clapped him on the shoulder, this was probably the most contact he'd ever had with him without being physically assaulted.
"I know right?! Like apparently he thinks you look alike? And he's all like 'But I've seen his eyes glow green' and 'they're never in the same roo-hoo-hoom." Dash wheezed and started hacking and coughing.
Danny carefully constructed a look of offence.
"Hey I mean, it's not THAT funny. Why couldn't I be Phantom! I know how to use a Fenton Thermos! Look I even HAVE one right-" he torn open his backpack and pulled one out, making sure to fumble it in a terrific display of fuck-uppery and drop it noisily on the cafeteria floor, he dropped to his knees trying to grab it but knocked it under a table.
A few girls standing nearby who'd been listening in started tittering, one of the guys sitting at the table snorted milk through his nose and Dash was just about on the floor in hysterics.
Even Sam and Tucker covered their mouths in an attempt to look like they were holding in laughter. Tucker muttered to Sam, just loud enough for people around to hear.
"I mean, he's our friend and we love him, but god that was painful to watch. He knows he's terrible at ghost hunting! He's got like, nothing but thumbs."
Danny climbed under the table, grabbed at the thermos and lifted it up as he crawled back out.
"See! See! I have a thermos! I could TOTALLY be Phantom!"
Sam walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay bud, I think you'd be a great Phantom." her voice was thick with her usual sarcasm, soaked in pity though it were.
Danny's ears burned in embarrassment, he might have been humiliating himself on purpose, but it was still humiliating, watching everyone laugh at him for being so weak and incompetent. He was grateful to his friends for pushing through their discomfort and keeping up the act, it was still painful, but it came with a wash of pure unadulterated relief.
Nobody believed this Wes guy, nobody thought it could be even remotely possible. People would talk about it for a little while, have a laugh, maybe there would be a few memes and in-jokes, but eventually it would drop off. People would forget all about it and it would be just another notch on the gossip mill belt.
Even if someone DID believe it, they could never admit it for fear of vicious ridicule, for once in his life peer pressure was his friend.
And then Wes walked in.
Once Danny saw him he realised that he did recognise Wes, he'd seen him hanging around Kwan a few times, and chatting with Star, he was also in Danny's english class. That was about as familiar as he got with the guy, they'd never spoken a word to each other.
Wes had a terrifying expression of seething fury ripping across his face. He was glaring at Dash.
"It's NOT. FUNNY."
Dash was completely unable to stand, it was honestly overkill, Danny almost thought he was hamming it up on purpose, but maybe not, his face was turning an alarming shade of red after all.
"Wes don-" Dash gasped. "Don't do this to me man, I can't brea-" Dash was gasping for air, trying desperately to hold down the giggles.
Danny could almost see steam rising as Wes seethed. Then suddenly that furious stare was shooting daggers straight at him. Danny shrank into himself, looking as small and helpless as he possibly could.
"Uh hey Wes, um, I've heard the news." he joked tacking on a nervous laugh for emphasis. "Uh, soooo," he tossed the thermos from hand to hand, nearly dropping it again. "Is this like, just a joke or do you really-?"
Dash continued to wheeze, Kwan was holding him up by the arm, muttering about getting some water to cool off.
Wes strode over until he and Danny were face to face, he was taller by a good couple inches, even more so with Danny making a conscious effort to appear small.
Wes jabbed a sharp finger into his collarbone.
"Don't think I'm fooled by this pathetic act you've got going on, I am ONTO you, Phantom." he spat.
Danny glanced sidelong at the table beside him, silently begging for assistance, they only watched in silence, strained faces trying not to laugh. A glance the other way to his friends, they simply shrugged.
"Um, okaaay," Danny started backing away slowly. "Uh look Wes I am honestly really flattered but, do we really look that alike?" Danny ran a hand through his hair and then pointed up at Wes. "I mean we BOTH kinda have Phantom's haircut."
Sam deadpanned from the sidelines, "Maybe they're BOTH Phantom."
"We should start marketing that haircut." Tucker muttered to himself, tapping something on his tablet. "We could make a fortune, are you any good at hairdressing?"
Sam shot him a look of disgust and did not dignify the question with a response.
"Don't play dumb you two," said Wes, flipping his focus, "You're definitely in on this!"
The entire cafeteria was awash with giggles by this point. Just about everyone had heard about Wes' theory, but were mostly convinced it was some kinda joke. Now? Now they knew Wes was straight up fucking delusional.
He glanced around as people laughed, at him. At HIM.
"It's not funny!" he yelled over the crowed, the tittering increased in volume. Someone across the room yelled-
"Hey if I get the haircut, can I be Phantom too?"
One of the goths stood up on her seat.
"I've GOT the haircut! Mom says it's MY TURN to be the Phantom!"
There was a fresh round of mirthful laughter, some kids wheezing as hard as Dash had been. Another few kids piped up above the cacophony, throwing jokes of their own.
"I've got a soup thermos so I'm Phantom now, sorry sweaty I don't make the rules."
"If I wear a Phantom shirt does that make me Phantom ALL the time or am I only Phantom when I'm wearing it?"
"I have an ass, Phantom has an ass. Conclusion: I am Phantom's ass."
"Tag yourself I'm the thermos."
"DO THE BUTTS MATCH?"
Wes had been trying to scream over the din, infuriated, desperate to find SOMEONE who would listen.
Danny gave him a pat on the back.
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, The Guys in White once hunted some guy down because he had white hair, if a government agency can fuck that up then-"
Wes slugged him.
It wasn't a particularly solid punch like Dash's hits, it was quick and precise, Was wasn't a brawny guy, but he was lean and fast and had good aim.
Danny whuffed out a heavy breath as Wes' fist collided with his sternum and he collapsed to the floor.
Everyone in the cafeteria lost their shit, a few people screamed and one table of football jocks all stood up chanting, "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT."
Tucker ran over to him as Sam stepped up and without hesitation slammed a fist straight into Wes' nose.
The footballers lost their minds, one of the goths stood up on their table screaming "REPRESEEENT!!"
Wes backed up immediately, crying out from the sharp pain blossoming across his face, he'd never been hit before and couldn't pull his thoughts together quick enough to throw a punch back at her, so he was taken by surprise once again as Sam placed a solid roundhouse kick to his stomach.
He had certainly not been expecting that kind of brute strength from her, she had incapacitated him swiftly and effectively, barely having broken a sweat.
One of his teammates hollered over the crowd and came barrelling down on the goth, she dodged without batting an eye and darted nimbly out of the way, giving the guy a quick kick in the pants to throw him off balance as she rocketed for the cafeteria door.
As Wes took a deep breath through his mouth, his nose dripping blood, he realised that Danny and Tucker were gone. The fight had lasted only seconds but Sam had run distraction well enough for the boys to take off without anyone noticing, a glance around showed Tucker supporting Danny about to exit through the cafeteria doors.
The doors opened to an out of breath Mr Lancer on the other side.
"'The Light Fantastic!' WHAT is going on here?!"
Oh they were all so fucked.
#danny phantom#wes weston#I definitely wanna write a sequel in detention#danny phantom fanfiction#Lula's headcanons#Lula's fanfics
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ooh I wanna see ua bakugo frustrate with his affection over this clueless moron, kinda like shoto, like he gives her like a flower and she's just like wuut .__.
yandere ! BAKUGO KATSUKI
Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3
This is so cute, I can’t. Don’t know if this is what you wanted hahahaha, but I have a weak spot for like Luna Lovegood girls, like Alice in Wonderland derpy pigtailed pastel Melanie Martinez lookin’ cupcakes. And made this still in the UA au... hope that’s ok!
goodiebag WARNINGS: slight yandere, slight dubcon theme, profanity, anxiety, hallucinations, stalking
SCARY LOVE
He felt like such a stalker, like a wolf hiding in the grass, just a disgusting waste of a human being standing and ogling her from the safe distance, far enough away that she wouldn’t care to look up, but just close enough to see the color in her eyes from where she was planted in the shade under the campus willow-tree.
Why was she so fucking cute?
Her locks knotted up into two big messy buns, big splendid pastel bows tying them both into place, one blue, the other pink, matching puffy scrunchies decorating both her wrists. Cute. Small wisps of light flowing hair falling in front of her face, tickling her nose, making it scrunch like a how bunny would every now and again. Cute. White ruffled socks reaching halfway up her leg. Cute. Her knees baring pastel-colored band-aids and small scrapes and purple bruises, in the same state her elbows were. Cute. Nimble fingers handling the book that seemed so out-of-place in its size where it weighed down heavily in her lap. She looked like such a fucking fairytale. A soft-tinted cotton-candy daydream.
Ready to have his bloody hands fuck up everything.
Bloody hell. What the fuck is he doing?
He can’t just stand there like some lovesick freak and do nothing, simply waiting for the school-bell to sound off its alarm, making her jump up like a little bunny popping up from its rabbit-hole where she’ll struggle with carrying that ridiculous book and sit down in class only to daydream about going back outside, but not before she’ll walk past him, allowing him to smell that sweet perfume that always has his heart clenching furiously in his chest and his cock growing warm and heavy in his pants.
What is wrong with him?
He can’t be thinking of her like that. This sweet precious little flower sitting so quietly with no wish to bother anyone, so soft and sweet he bet she’d cry if she so much as stepped on an ant. He wondered if she was a crier, if she’d be this adorable little crybaby ball of sobs and wet moans beneath him. He wondered what types of sound she’d make if he shoved his cock inside her. If she’d squeal and gasp and hiccup at his size, if she’d mewl, if she’d whimper, if she’d scream.
Fuck.
He needed to calm the fuck down.
To think he would never have met her if he hadn’t been forced to sign up to that stupid side-course. To think he was so mad that he didn’t make the cut for the class about war-theory and was forced to take philosophy with a bunch of air-headed freaks instead. To think he almost didn’t meet her. To think- fuck, he’s even starting to sound like one of them fucking philosophy-ditzes.
To be or not to be, or to drool over the girl sitting beneath the willow-tree.
Maybe that’s what he should submit next time they have one of those moronic poetry sessions. Perhaps then she would look at him with interest, with surprise and even praise, maybe even reverence, mirroring the look he gives her when she stands on the podium reciting her swirling words and artful descriptions, looking as though she’s entirely in her own world, dreaming, not just speaking but preaching, preaching to him about gods he’s never heard of yet somehow always believed in.
He used to believe gods drank blood and could only be celebrated through pain, that they made creatures like him, crafted him from dragon bones and fire and everything sharp and deadly, crafting him from war for war to become war itself, to find purpose in conquering, to find worth in glory. But now… looking at this creature, this creature who celebrates life and not death through laughter and daydreams and love far away from pain, he knows he’s had it all wrong.
He’s no good with words. He never has been. Except when insulting people, then he turns into a fucking lyric. What she can do is a gift. Either that, or she’s simply just insane. Either way, he doesn’t really care. She’s still soft, a tender type of madness, sweet and small and would look so good with a couple of love-bites to crash that display of milk and cream and cotton, so fucking brilliant with his handprint marking her ass… and he’s doing it again.
Fuck.
None of that will happen if he doesn’t grow a pair and go talk to her. But he can’t just talk to her. He has nothing to say. Or he has plenty to say, but nothing she could hear. He needed to find the most straightforward approach, however… while it needed to be unmistakable or lest she misunderstand, it couldn’t be aggressive. That would frighten her and he couldn’t risk spooking her away. He couldn’t risk ruining everything. It was apparent she didn’t think too much of him except that he was an angry looking boy in her Friday-classes, he needed to prove he too could be… sweet… or at least something akin to it.
He was wrong in thinking that anything would make her look up from her book. Even as he stood a mere meter away from her, she didn’t look up, completely lost and submerged in her own world as she always was. Only when he cleared his throat did she finally lift her gaze, eyes fluttering from traveling the pages and blinked softly to look up at him.
Cute.
He forgot to say anything, with a hand reached out, fisting the air, knuckles whitening in his grip, where inside the seemingly furious hand was something to contrast his otherwise deadly red stare.
The look of puzzlement on her face was insurmountable. Her small hands giving no indication to receive whatever he was offering.
“Is this a threat?” Came her soft voice, shaking him out of the faze he’d slipped into, though quickly plunging him into another one, this time not so much anticipation but confusion.
“What? No!” The both of them simply looked at each other for a moment. Bakugo’s hand still protruding out towards her, the thing in his hand no more tempting to accept than before to the girl who was still planted, making no action to get up from her spot.
“I don’t understand…” She admitted, wondering if he perhaps wanted her seat in the shade, but wasn’t given the time to ask the question as he decided to clear things up.
“It’s a flower.”
She could see that. It was a flower ripped from its root, an otherwise healthy flower before being suffocated in Bakugo’s death-grip.
“It’s a dead flower…” She corrected, a hint of sorrow on her features and he knew he was already failing in his pursuit, wanting to make things right before they could derail even more.
“It’s pretty... like you.” That came out as even more an ominous threat he realized, indicating she’d end up like the proven pretty dead flower in his chokehold.
“Are you sure this isn’t a threat?” The fact that she felt the need to ask him not only once but twice told him all he needed to know of her thoughts regarding him. She obviously thought he was a deranged explosive beast from the Hero-course.
“Goddamn it, no, I…” He frustrated, finding it hard to arrange the words, finding it hard to even find the words. “You… You’re so… You-” She was oblivious to how much he was struggling it seemed, as her personality suddenly shifted and she jumped up, book thrown to her side rather recklessly, skirt with ruffles and all bouncy with the same vigor as her tits.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together, eyes wide with such bright light Bakugo almost felt blinded by, it even managing to frightened him a bit. “Thank you, that’s very good to know! I’d be terrified if I was anyone but me!” His brows lifted in dawning realization, feeling safer by being calmed by the reminder of how he was talking to a ditz, a complete mental-case… though… a mental-case who’d managed to dance her way and get lost in his heart. “Pardon me for being so blunt, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask.” Preparing him for her question, she leant in just a bit more, looking at him intently. “Are you yourself today, Bakugo?”
As absurd as the question was to him, when it rolled off her tongue it nearly seemed like the most casual of things to ask someone, as though she was requesting his thoughts on the weather. And though it was the epitome of peculiar, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how appropriate the question was, because he were, in fact, not at all feeling like himself.
“… No.”
She gave a contemplative look and a hum. “Then you must be Baku-gone…” He couldn’t hold back the snort that followed her statement, again being reminded of what a complete klutz she was, something so far away from his cynical view of the world and something far more relaxing than what his fears had managed to conjure of her rejection. It seemed so ridiculous now, that he’d thought she would run away or scream, never having let himself imagine her in what he knew was her true nature, light-hearted and incapable of doing any harm, at least not on purpose. “Wow, you really must be, huh?” She continued, fishing him out of his curt chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh. Come to think of it… I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you smile.” She mused, admiring the small pleasantness stretched upon his face.
But then his brows furrowed, the happiness seeping from his features and leaving them contorted with annoyance, much to her dismay, regretting her choice of words. “I smile.” He argued, looking at her as though demanding she explain herself.
She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him, scrunching her brows and biting her lip for a second or two as though she were in deep thought, not wanting to upset him any further, though not wanting to speak without candidness. “No… you… bare teeth… like a wolf eager to catch its prey.” His ears retracted, features taken aback by her observation, finding he couldn’t quite say otherwise, though he’d never viewed it that way, but again, the more he thought about it, the more all her strange words made sense as he found them to be true. Silly of him to think his wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing approach could fool her, silly of him to think he could fool himself into believing she’d ever consider going out with someone so… predatory.
Though, minds are easily swayed, he reminded himself of. Her opinion of him wasn’t set in stone after all. “Does it scare you?” He finally asked, finding that was the only thing he was actually curious about. Though… perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she did fear him just a bit, because god knows how terrified he is of her and how she makes him feel as though he’s bleeding or falling or stripped of everything, cut by the knees and naked and so very needy to have her just look at him.
“I would say no, but I cannot lie.” His heart sunk upon hearing her admit it, disappointed, not sure if it was in her or in him.
She’s scared… Of course, she is scared! Who wouldn’t be? Dumb of him to think anything else.
“But, that’s rather the point isn’t it? To scare people?” She took a step forward, eyes bright and hopeful, hating to think she’d upset him.
“Not you.” It was barely above a whisper, words simply cast out there, and it left the girl looking perplexed, curious and even guilt-stricken or ashamed.
“Well… I shouldn’t fear things I know too little about… that would be silly…” She felt the urge to touch him, wanting him to truly hear her words, wanting to enforce them by touch, yet as her hands reached out to take his all so brazenly her eyes fell upon the flower again. She didn’t really have any wish to touch something dead, it always being such a cold and empty feeling running like ice through her veins, yet she reached out to receive the flower anyway, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “So, if not my fear, what is it this Bakugone wishes of me then?” She slipped on a tender smile, genuine and perfect, her soft fingertips brushing against his.
“I…” He was so focused on how she was touching him, the pressure, the elegance, the perfection, so focused he forgot the words again, so focused on her soft fingertips, her warmth, her pastel-manicured nails, he didn’t realize how the movement had stilled.
“You want to eat my heart.”
Her voice made him look up from where they were conjoined, crimson orbs dragged slowly to meet the oddity of her voice no less her words, yet as he looked, he continued to search because he found no eyes looking back at him, only whites, wide gleaming glowing void whites staring at him.
“You want to rip open my ribcage and feast.” Shaken and confused his brows twisted as he yet again tried to find her eyes. “You want to see me burst and bloom for you.” He hadn’t tried pulling his hand away, not really wanting to either, but he realized he perhaps wouldn’t be able to even if he’d wanted with how hard she was now digging her once soft fingers into his wrist. “You want to cripple me. You want to hear my deathbed confession. You want to lick the sin from my expression.” Her brows were the ones to crinkle now as she inhaled a shuddering breath, her hand shaking as she held onto him, seemingly as though her life depended on it. “You want and you’ve been wanting for so long. You want and want, there’s no end to what you want.” Her voice was now frantic, sporadic, hitched and frightened. “You want more and more and more and more and more-” She shook so much she lost her footing and tripped, staggering back and hitting the dirt with a sharp thud, knocking her out of whatever trance she’d slipped into, no more words coming thundering from her lips except for a cute little exclamation of oof, fluffy skirt puffed out around her like a jellyfish.
“What the fuck!” He shouted once she let go, flower falling to the floor, dropped in the midst of his shock and confusion as to what had happened, yet also feeling embarrassed with how she’d seemed to have caught him red-handed, and shaken with how much she knew, disturbed with how it all had been phrased, yet concerned, concerned because he knew he’d failed, he’d scared her so much she nearly melted, but somehow even more concerned with how she’d hit the ground. “I’m-” She looked up at him and he was left dumbstruck with how wide her eyes were and how full they now seemed with the return of her irises and pupils. No longer looking like wax, but like great gems or galaxies he couldn’t help but fall prey to, especially with how glossy they were, shining and glimmering and wet, wet with tears.
“No wonder you feel gone.” She suddenly mumbled, or it wasn’t exactly a mumble, but in contrast to whatever voice she spoke in before it surely seemed subdued. “Someone’s run off with your heart!” She clumsily got back to her feet, gripping his shoulders, nearly making him stagger back and fall with just how intense and vivid her actions were thrown at him. “You’re in love!” She squealed, nearly screaming it at him, before reeling herself back in, probably only now realizing how she’d attacked the boy. “Excuse me, I mean pardon, I mean I’m terribly sorry if I frightened you.” She backed away, fingers playing with each other as she tumbled through her sentence. “It’s my quirk you see. It has a habit of living its own life. I didn’t mean to spout out your desires like that, it was a total invasion of your privacy and completely rude and unethical on my side. I really am so sorry. Would you forgive me?”
Wasn’t he the one who should be apologizing to her?
He remained stunned and confused and growing even more so by the second as she spoke. “Perhaps I could make it up to you? Perhaps I can help you in your quest to retrieve your heart? Who is the thief?”
And there it was.
She was so overwhelmed she didn’t even pick up who the emotions were for.
Silly thing.
This made him ease up. He hadn’t spoiled everything yet. In fact, she seemed even more enthusiastic now than before, even more eager to talk to him and help him even. “Is it that green-haired boy? What was his name again? Something with D or M, I can’t for the life of me remember! Or perhaps it’s the floaty one? You know, the one with the big brown eyes. No! I know who it is, it’s the one with the shark teeth, and the spikey red hair-” She rambled, and even though some of her suggestions revolted him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her when she was so… so bouncy with thrill, so cute with how her tits squeezed together in her top and jumped for him with every word that fell from those lushes pink lips that would feel so good to bite into and feel on his neck and down his chest and-
“You can help me.” He suddenly blurted, whipping her from her rambling.
“Really?!” Big eyes, filled with such expectancy and acceptance of whatever he was about to request even without a shred of knowing what. “How?” It was as though it were her life wish to help, that denying him would mean death or something even worse in her eyes.
“By making it up to me.”
His grin returned, the one that lacked… not exactly happiness, because there was still a certain glee to it, a certain enjoyment, yet lacking altruism and was instead left looking greedy and gluttonous and as though he was made up of… teeth, and only teeth, and too many teeth, and that those teeth were too sharp.
“Oh.” She seemed drained of her vigorous passion, like a light snuffed out, swallowing thickly. And though she knew it all to be in her head, knew it all to be but a figment of her fears, she still took a step back as though she’d seen something that worried her, and was quickly followed by what had worried her as Bakugo paralleled her backtracking, leaving her no further away from his hungry open-mouthed smirk.
“Kiss me.” She realized she’d backed all the way into the tree, her back meeting the hard trunk seemed to shake her from her vision as the biting image submerged and left her with a quite normal-looking Bakugo towering over her, no longer Bakugone or just a toothy grin, and she was left deciding whether it was any better or maybe even worse than what she had been picturing.
Yet, she had no time to think as Bakugo’s hand raised to cup her cheek, where in the seconds it took for him to do so, she needed to prepare herself for all his obsessive lovesick thoughts she knew would yet again flood her mind, only now she wouldn’t shake from them, and what more, now she knew who they were about. Poor thing had taken Bakugo’s heart without knowing, without knowing to prepare for Bakugo’s blood-stained scarred hand to reach into her chest and hold her own terror-wide heart in a chokehold as he too took it for himself. Without knowing how to protect herself from his many sharp teeth that would steal and eat to satiate what livid hungry fire, what desperate thirst she’d awoken inside his heart, to relieve the pain of it all, to finally breath again, to find safety, to find belonging, to find life. And she had no way of preparing for it, no way of protecting herself from it, no way of hiding from Bakugo’s sharp teeth… but when his hand, his calloused sandpaper-textured palm handled her cheek she was met with a new image, a soft-tinted mellow yet dramatic rhapsodic fire, one that she rather cherished than feared, one that she felt like chasing, one that seemed like it was calling her.
Bakugo leaned in slowly, as though asking for permission, receiving no complaints, just a set of large eyes staring at him. Her hands, feeling as though their fingertips had plunged deep into the bark of the tree behind her, ripped loose to touch him, feeling the simmering plethora of brutally violent passions swimming beneath them as they hovered on top of his skin. Tasting it on her tongue as he captured her soft lips with his own stiff ones. She could taste the hunger, the teeth, the longing, the pain, the fire, the waiting and time he’d suffered in the darkness all alone, she could taste the war, but more… she could taste the fear, the fear of losing or not having at all, and at the very tip of her tongue, stronger than anything else, she caught it, the flavor crystalized like sugar… hope… love.
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My Little Fiancé - Zeke Jaeger x Reader, Reiner Braun x Reader [PART TWO]
PART ONE.
◙ warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. pussy eating, more cucking themes to threesome, cumplay, cum eating, objectification but make it sweet. double dicked down by big dick squad. my proof reading or lack thereof
◙ word count: 3.2k
◙ summary: Reiner has liked you since his childhood but when he comes back he sees you and Zeke are an item now. Don’t worry, the least you and Zeke could do is let him join in. This time he gets his turn inside you.
◙ note: I wasn’t going to make a part two but... Zeke and Reiner brainrot makes my a happy mf. ALSO I REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS THANK YOU ILY!!! Your comments and reblogs and EVERYTHING make me so happy. You're more than welcome to come into my ask box and thirst with me over characters(ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥
Reiner was right. The scratches you left on his thighs when you swallowed his cock were perfect jerk material. He couldn't even go to the bathroom without seeing them and getting at least a little erect. He is very much looking forward to when you two invite him over for dinner again. His mind is plagued with your moans and your teary eyes staring into his soul as your fiancé fucks you lifeless. He doesn't believe in gods but he's praying almost everyday for you as he tugs his dick to the memories of that day. The disappointment when those red scratches disappeared a few days later left him flaccid, he almost debated on scratching himself just to pretend but he shook that ridiculous thought out of his head. Instead he thinks about how obedient you were for Zeke, letting him direct you and use you. That really contrasted to how you were on his lap like a minx with a mission.
When his prayers are answered it's not exactly for dinner, more for dessert… long after dinner time late in the evening on a weekend he makes sure the day after is clear because just the thought of you can leave him out of commission for hours but getting the chance to fuck you? He gives himself a day but he'd need more to fully mentally recover. He is but a weak man for beautiful women, and one as lewd as you? One that he's pined over? Fuck.
He can feel his heart beating so clearly in his ears, the anxiety of the whole situation is snaking back up his spine. He's glad he ate dinner early and the ferocity he brushed his teeth at was frightening, he doesn't want to be caught with bad breath especially by you. His footsteps to Zeke and your apartment feel way too loud, and so does the knock on the door. But the quickness at which you open it is almost comical, and you look all too eager to see him. You've been excited this whole time. Yeah, you love Zeke, you're going to marry him, but having variety is appreciated and the obscenity of being fucked by another man while your to-be husband watches or you two being watched sends thrills down your spine and your skin heat up. You're ready, you've been waiting like a good girl for him to get here, Zeke made you strip to just a loose button up and the reason, well-
Reiner smiles at your sweet hellos, his cheeks already turning red at your attire or lack thereof. But your mischievous smile keeps him on his toes as you play with the collar of his shirt. He doesn't see Zeke anywhere in sight which is curious.
"Zeke told me to tell you something," there's a heady look settling in his eyes as you speak. He plays with the edges of your shirt, "yeah?"
You nod sweetly, gravitating closer into his touch, "mmhm, he said and I quote "'if she isn't fucking soaked by the time you two get to the bed I'll kick you out and you'll never get to touch her again' something along those lines." He leads kisses along your neckline, rubbing his scruff roughly against your skin while he coughs out a chuckle.
"Is that so?" A hand running up your thigh, "Guess I'll get to work then." Before you know it you are bent over the back of the couch and he's thrown off his shirt over it. Rough calloused hands and spreading the chub of your ass that's hiding your cunt out of the way for him to devour after he flipped the end of your shirt over your ass. He's on his knees for you, submitting to a prayer into your pussy that's soon to be leaking over his face. The desperate grasps for the couch pillows do nothing to help with the vulnerable position he's put you in and he's diving into your cunt, lapping at it desperately. He's sloppy, spreading your lips out with his tongue as firm as he can manage, spit covering your cunt combining with the slick it's producing. The mission of getting you wet is easily achieved but go big or go home right?
His hands mold into your ass and thighs still spreading you wide as he presses his face deeper into you, his tongue lapping at your clit and hole as you wriggle and moan over the couch. Your feet can't even touch the ground and the pressure of the back of the couch digging into your abdomen is making catching your breath that much harder. The circles his tongue makes around the edges of your hole and the laps over your clit, he's not precise like Zeke who aims at your weak spots so perfectly and strategically, he's going head-in but his enthusiasm and the striking difference between him and Zeke make up for any downfalls. "Reiner- I-" you want to reach back and pull at his head off your cunt but you're trying to hold yourself up a bit to lessen the pressure your abdomen is taking. Really it makes the experience all the better, breathless groans breaking from your throat as Reiner is diligent in trying to get you to cum all over his face. He's dreamt of this, in different ways, different positions, and it's living up to his expectations. Your taste on his tongue is distinctly you, not sweet, not sour but insanely specific to you and that's what makes him love it so much. You can feel him groaning into you as he eats you out which makes your toes curl and the wave starting in your stomach is threatening to crash soon. He keeps his pace steady, so steady no matter how much you wiggle around and whine, your nails digging into the backing pillows as you get closer and closer to your climax. He presses your thighs into the back of the couch, groaning into your cunt as it clenches sporadically around his tongue and you swear you see a flash of blonde from your bedroom door out of the corner of your eye but you can't really focus as you cream on Reiners face. He's lapping up every bit of cum like a thirsty dog and finally he pulls back, out of breath, smirking at a job well done.
"I'd say you're sufficiently- what did Zeke say?-" he pulls you by the back of your button up to stand on your feet, slick trailing down your thigh from your cunt, "'soaked.'" He sounds so smug, you would scold him but your knees are weak and you finally get to take a proper deep breath. Thankfully, he holds your hips firmly so you don't collapse into yourself. He kisses at your neck, keeping a flat hand over your belly to pull you away from the couch and closer to the bedroom. Maybe he shouldn't feel such pride and excitement to show Zeke what a good job he's done but fuck it's too late for that.
Zeke sits in the chair Reiner occupied last time, legs spread, shirtless, finishing the end of a cigarette, pushing the butt into the ashtray near him. He can see the post-orgasmic bliss written all over your face and wobbly legs as you walk to him. The juices trailing down your leg shine a bit with the moonlight gliding through the windows, he technically doesn't need to check to see if you're soaked like he demanded but you're so obediently standing in front of him, he can't help but mold his hands into your body as you situate yourself between his thighs.
Reiner watches as Zeke unbuttons your shirt, throwing it off you before he grasps your ass causing you to stumble and lean onto his bare shoulders. Fingers trailing up your thigh, smearing slick even more across the plains.
"Reiner," Zeke lets out a short laugh, "You've outdone yourself. Guess you aren’t getting kicked out." Reiner can't help but let his chest swell with pride. Zeke presses his hands into your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast. "Go be good and spread your legs for him," he pushes roughly into your ribs towards the bed where you tug on Reiners hand to join you. He could combust right now, you look so sweet on the bed looking up to him, wanting him so sweetly to take you.
This is what he's been waiting for. Sure, fucking your throat and watching you get destroyed by your partner was fun but this is what he wanted. You laying underneath him on the bed, legs spread to accommodate his thighs, no fabric barriers between the two of you. Granted your lover is watching the two of you like a hawk around two rabbits but that just makes this situation hotter. What's even hotter is Zeke's commentary as Reiner digs his hands into your body, into the meat of your thighs and ass, traveling to your chest to pinch at your nipples.
"She was excited for this, you know? My fiancé begging me to let you fuck her." your skin is heating up from embarrassment. Surely, Reiner doesn't need to know this much? "She squirmed on my cock to get on my good side, to convince me to let you fuck her brains out. Imagine that?" Reiners dick taps against your clit, running it along your lips, soaking it with your slick. "My little cocksleeve begging on my cock for another man. I mean, I planned on letting you anyways but it was sweet to see her so desperate like that." Reiners shoulders roll at the confession, "Is that right?"
You turn your face into the sheets, you really don't want to confirm because even though you're spread wide for him it's more embarrassing to confront that you've begged to fuck him than to actually fuck him. Creaking of a chair, then your face is snapped forward to look at Zeke who's leaning over you, hand seizing your cheeks. "Don't pretend to be modest now." Zeke glares at you from over his glasses, "He asked you a question, whore."
Having two sets of hands on your body is wholly distracting, but you have to answer or Zeke will be extra mean to you if you disobey. "Yes," you confirm and Zeke sends you a look to continue, "Y-yes, I begged for Reiner to fuck me." The sheets could swallow you whole and you'd be thankful but Zeke looks satisfied and Reiner borderline euphoric.
You jolt a bit as you see your fiancé hit his back, "Well, get to it then! Don't want to keep a pretty toy like her waiting." But Reiner looks impossibly thick, you took him in your mouth sure, but your pussy is a different story. Zeke is a good length and curved, he never fails to please you but he isn't as thick as this. It's a little intimidating especially when he's trying to work the head into you. One small thrust to work more into you and you try to reach out to make him slow down with pushing his cock into you, "’s t-too big…" Zeke let's out an unsympathetic whistle. Of course, he doesn't want you to hurt for real, but watching you struggle is the best form of amusement to him. Reiner has mercy on you though, and doesn't push further into you. Your slick makes this easier and makes the burn less prominent, and now you're becoming thankful for Zeke and his forward thinking.
Zeke leans over the spot where you and Reiner are partially connected, his hair almost brushing against the other man's chest. Slowly, he lets a string of spit descend from his mouth to settle on your entrance and Reiners cock. He could've left it at that but instead he leans down to lick at your clit brushing over Reiners dick, adding more spit to the mix to make it a bit easier for you to take. Having another man this close to his dick shouldn't be this attractive, but his tongue and your walls fluttering around his tip is exhilarating. "She should be fine," Zeke sits back on his henches and pushes at your chest to lay flat against the bed as you wiggle just a bit on his cock. Reiner takes this as a green light to slowly thrust into as you whine for him, hands grasping at Zeke's thighs. His thrusts into you pushes groans out of your chest from the thickness. He's stretching you out, walls clamping down on him like a vice, cock rubbing the soft spots in your walls that make tears gather in your eyes. He can feel you get closer and closer to cumming, with your mantra of fuckfuck-please-Reiner-fuck. Zeke nuzzles into your neck, biting into your skin and tweaking your nipples as Reiner drills into you. Your pussy constricting around him sporadically, he pushed one of your knees to your chest to fuck into you even faster which only sends you over the edge you were precariously tipping over, your nails digging into Zeke as you cream on Reiners cock. But he keeps going, the need to fill you up completely with him sending him into a frenzy, your cum adding to the lewd noises and tired, breathy whimpers. "Fuck." Just a few more thrust into your tightness and his cum floods your caverns, he stills.
Zeke finally speaks up after a moment of silence, "holy shit," he presses down on your tummy and your walls flutter around Reiners cock before he pulls out, cum leaking out of your pussy. Zeke leans over once again, but this time he flattens his tongue over your hole, gathering the cum leaking out on his tongue, leaning back to hover over your mouth. He squeezes your cheeks to open your mouth, letting the collected cum and slick drop into your tongue. You swallow what he gives you obediently.
You two are going to be the death of Reiner. Seriously, fuck.
“My turn now,” Zeke flips you over onto your belly as Reiner settles near your head. Your thighs pushed together pushing more cum to slip out of your hole, Zeke spreads the chub of your cheeks out of his way to slip his cock into you.
“Look at you love,” He presses deeply into you, leaning forward as you claw at Reiners thighs, “So well used. Stretched and fucked open just for me.” Your insides are wet, soaked with cum so the slide inside in is extremely easy. He rocks into you consistently, your walls tight around him, even tighter because of the position. Your slick and Reiners leftover cum in your cunt are dripping down his balls, every time he presses into you there’s a resounding wet slap. You are completely disheveled and fuzzy, like your head is stuffed with cotton, slurred curses slipping through your teeth as Zeke keeps his course. “Suck him off, ‘kay?” You respond with a teary nod as you pull Reiner to you. He won’t last long, he knows that but that may be a mercy on you. You do your best to suck him into your cheeks, hollowing them out as you drool on his cock. The rocking of Zeke’s hips into yours pushes you further and further down his cock, you don’t need to do much work like this thankfully, but your pet name of ‘toy’ is being fully defined by Zeke and Reiner using your body to get off. Zeke’s glasses are completely fogged over so he just throws them on Reiners thigh to make sure they don't get broken on the bed. The taste on Reiner’s cock is a mixture of you and him. You’re so close, so inevitably close. Your eyes rolling back into your skull as a refreshing orgasm rolls over you, harder than the last one and so tiring. Zeke pauses just for a moment as your cunt tightens and creams around him, adding to the sloshing liquids gathered around your hole, cum frothing on his cock. You are in a euphoric post-orgasmic headspace, being used by them.
He bites and kisses around your shoulders, beard brushing against your skin, whispers of “Good toy, so sweet for me. Being so good for us” hitting your muffled ears. It only takes a few more swallows around Reiner for him to finish with a hiss between his teeth. Zeke pulls your head back by your throat as he keeps thrusting, he wants to hear your raspy groans unmuffled by cock for just a bit. The cute raspy wines of his name are worth it. You are past overstimulation, it hurts just a bit but in a good way. Zeke keeps going, you know he’s close by the sweetness he mumbles into your skin. The praise makes your skin hum and you wish you could be extra good and push your hips back on him but this position doesn’t allow for that and all the strength in your body is borderline nonexistent, all you can do is take what’s dished out to you. You claw at Reiners calves as Zeke ruts into one last time, balls deep to fill you entirely with cum.
He stays inside as he massages your back, he’s painfully observant and knows you are tired and sore already. “So good, so good for us,” at this point Zeke sounds like a broken record, but it warms your heart especially with Reiner holding your cheeks so tenderly, like you’re made of glass. When he does pull out he takes a moment to sit back and observe the cum being pushed out of your cunt, messy and smeared with your previous endeavors, puffy and abused by dick. It's a sweet sight. It’s tempting to eat you out like this but you’d just whine and squirm too much and he doesn’t feel like dealing with your kicking legs… though the breathy whines would be worth it...
Reiner can see Zeke smiling down at you where you can’t see, this is one of the rare times he has seen him look so… soft. Caring, delicate. A side of him he wasn’t able to see last time. Zeke already knows what to do for the rest of the night, he’ll make sure you both are washed up, you’ll tug at his sleeve to make you toast with butter and honey—and he will, he always will, and he’ll bring you a cup of tea to go along with it—you’ll curl up between his legs and pass out until the next day.
“Reiner, go get them washed up.” Ah- he didn’t really expect to stay after this but it’s the least he could do for screwing the brains out of his fiancé, so he gathers you up in his arms to give you a lazy shower. Zeke considers that maybe, he can make some extra toast, and maybe another cup of tea for Reiner too. He did tell him to keep his day free tomorrow, the least he could do is let him sleep over. Plus, the seasons are changing and it's getting cold, might as well let you have another cuddle buddy.
“There’s extra clothes in my dresser as well,” Zeke steps out of the room. You send Reiner a tired sugary smile, he’s starting to be really satisfied with his choice of joining the two of you in this weird trio.
𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3
//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
#⚫.filth#◆.aot#❖.zeke jaeger#❖.reiner braun#⚠️.objectification#⚠️.threesome#⚠️.cumplay#⚠️.pussy eating#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan smut#zeke jaeger smut#zeke yaeger#zeke jaeger x reader#reiner braun x reader#reiner braun x you#attack on titan lemon#zeke jaeger x reader x reiner braun#reiner smut#snk x reader#snk x y/n#snk x you#aot x y/n#aot fanfiction#aot x reader#aot smut#⚫.writing#⚠️.dom/sub dynamic#zeke smut
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Hell Above - Chapter Fifteen
PAIRINGS: Hwang Hyunjin X Female Reader
WARNINGS: Series contains mature content, read at your own discretion. Mafia!AU, explicit language, suggestive language, graphic scenes, weapons, mild abuse, angst, 18+.
WORD COUNT: 4.3K
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Everything’s Not Alright, and I Would Rather...
The day had come.
The roar of the vehicle drowned in your ears as you sat back and watched as the pedestrians walked by the hospital. You grew envious that you were unable to have such a normal life, one where you could walk so freely with common care and worry. The sun rays beamed on the car causing the temperature to surpass a well comfortable standard and you felt your anxiety churn in the pit of your stomach. He was coming for you and you were foolish to believe that a historial full of those suffering would allow him To pause in his conquest. You hung your head and sighed out, and felt a soft hand place itself on your thigh as you looked up worryingly to this man.
It was almost unfair. How in a life full of torture, deceit and pain, that there was someone so honest, so loving. Hyunjin had and would always be the light at every end of each tunnel you found yourself in. He will always be that comforting voice in your mind. The softest touch a human could ever have. And it was unfair because you couldn’t live a life of peace and harmony. You two will never be able to sleep restfully in each other’s arms without the worry of captive or murder at your corner. To live the way you had, hidden behind masks placed for the both of you caused nothing but pain. And at what cost? You feared since the day your grandfather decided that he and the network would move forward and deem it necessary for you to be killed, that you would never truly see this man again. You looked at Hyunjin, studied all of his features. How his skin almost resembled silk in the way it looked soft to the touch and had no imperfections. His mole that was kissed under his eye, and the sharpness of the angles in the way he was carved by angels. His eyes felt like two of the most precious stars caught from the galaxy and placed into his orbs. They drew you in and made you feel like everything around you was still. His lips… his lips that took you to paradise, how everything he did, brought you bliss. He was your safety net, your rock, your protector. And you never thought love at first sight was real, you had grown up to hate this man, but the moment you looked at him with your own two eyes, you felt static electricity run through your spine. You two had as would always be two hearts as one, two souls cut from the same strand. He had always been your other half.
And that’s what scares you. The unknown. Of the hours ahead, the plan that had been set in place. You remembered the discussion you had with Changbin when he introduced the bullet to you. The technology and the thought behind its ability to stun you and weaken the heartbeat but not enough force to kill you. You knew Hyunjin didn’t see your point of view and grew nervous for the safety of your unborn child.
“Here it is”
“So tell me, when Minho shoots it-“ You started and Changbin cut you off.
“It will break the skin, it will hurt, especially if he is rather close to you. I made this protection pad for you to wear..” Changbin handed to the padding and you eyed it a bit before he continued.
“This should help stop the force of the bullet from completely killing you”
“YAH!” Hyunjin yelled more as a warning to be careful with the words people used. He was on edge with the whole situation.
“Hyunjin it ‘s fine. It won’t kill me. We just need it to put me out for a few, make grandfather believe I am dead.” You looked at him before turning to Changbin, “Thank you Changbin.”
Hyunjin clenched his jaw and left the room as you tried to grab on to his arm as he jerked you off.
“Hyunjin—“
You followed after him and you two were in the hallway when you called out his name again and grabbed him as he turned to you.
“This is ridiculous Y/N putting yourself at danger! Putting everything on the line like this. If he thinks you're dead, what difference does it make!?”
“He hid me from the world. He made me non existent. Do you know that you could have been dead years ago!? That’s why.” You retorted and Hyunjin sighed out in frustration.
“I’m playing the same game as him, Hyunjin. Making myself non existent. For me, for you…” You grabbed his hand and placed it over your stomach, “for our family.”
Hyunjin pulled you into a hug and held you tightly, like he was going to lose you .“I just can’t bear to think of something happens, if you-“
“Nothing will happen, I promise. I trust Minho. I trust the plan.”
“I’m going in.” You unbuckle your seat belt and looked at Hyunjin. He slid his hand over your cheek and behind your head as he pulled you into a kiss, one that felt so passionate, full of love, fear, lust. Like it was the last time you two would ever feel each other. His lips molding into yours like he was studying every soft line you had and memorizing the way you taste.
“Y/N” He whispered against your lips. It was so beautiful the way he said your name.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You kissed him back before you made your way out of the car and to the hospital.
You took slow steps walking across the cream colored colored floor, mind lost in the daze as your heels clacking against the concrete were the only thing that could be heard. The smell of medicine and cleanliness around you and the overwhelming silence of it all as you approached Jeongin’s hospital room made you feel insane. Your skin was itching for some kind of crazy to happen, and you received nothing of the sort. As you approached the corner of the room you heard a not so pleasant sound. The sound of a laugh you were not expecting to hear in the hospital, one full of danger and suspense. You began to think to yourself the harm Jeongin could be in and how bold of a man your Grandfather was to show himself here, and at the same time you were not surprised. You took one deep breath in and walked into the hospital room and saw a frozen in place Jeongin sitting up on his bed. Your grandfather sat across him with his legs crossed, his eyes dark and evil, smile curved just enough to scare away those around him. He had his men in the room holding their assault rifles in clear view. All attention focused on you when you came into sight. There was no turning back now.
“Today is the day Y/N. I trust that you know what lies ahead of you” you grandfather spoke, head slowly turning to you as you squinted at him and clenched your jaw.
“I suppose it was foolish of me to believe that you wouldn’t come here to find me.” You responded back and he smiled at you.
“You and Jeongin...two peas in a pod. It’s a shame one of you has to go.” You looked over at Jeongin who was in complete fear, fast ghostly white. You grew anxious.
“If you have come to harm-“
“I do not wish to harm Jeongin any more than I have.”
You paused and you stepped forward and your grandfather’s soldiers raised their weapons at you and your grandfather raised his hand to calm them.
“I will let you have a moment to speak, then we will take you.” You grandfather stood up and you saw the small sling around his arm where you had inflicted your gun shot to. He walked towards you and you moved over to allow him and his men to step out of the room before you ran over to Jeongin’s side and began touching his face.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Y/N.”
You checked for any and all signs of cuts and bruises on Jeongin’s body as he kept repeating your name softly. Your mind was so caught up in him that you didn’t hear him raise his voice at you. It was when he gripped your wrists tightly to have you stop when you looked into his eyes.
“I’m okay.”
You nodded softly and felt tears in your eyes and Jeongin shook his head to tell you not to cry.
“I’m scared Jeongin.” You whispered and he nodded.
“You’re going to be fine. Trust me.” You felt a single tear roll down your cheek and Jeongin pulled you into his arms for a hug, “I’ll see you on the other side.”
You pulled back from him and looked at Jeongin confused before you felt to large hands grip your arms tightly and began to pull you.
“No. LET GO OF ME.” You struggled to get free as you looked at Jeongin who smiled at you and waved sadly and you felt the pit of your stomach churn. “JEONGIN!”
Before you knew it you felt a padding of cloth come to your nose and you began to inhale. Your head grew light and your eyes got heavy as you felt all your weight drop and everything go black.
******************************************************************************************
“They took her.” Hyunjin bursted into the office and Minho jolted up out of his seat as he turned to Felix who looked back at him.
“It’s time.” Minho said and Felix nodded and got up and grabbed his jacket.
“Let’s go fuck shit up.” Felix said and left the room, heading to go round up the other boys.
Hyunjin stood there across from Minho as Minho looked back at him.
“So we are really doing this?” Hyunjin asked and Minho nodded his head.
“Better late than never.” Minho scoffed to himself and Hyunjin nodded as they both left the room.
*******************************************************************************************
You felt your eyes start to pry open and you hissed when you saw the light of the room attack your sight. You squinted hard and saw a man standing in the room guarding the door watching you. You sat yourself up slowly and realized you in a bedroom, one that felt painfully familiar in an odd way. You saw the man grab something at his hip and raise it to his lips.
“She’s awake.”
You felt your blood run cold. The room was eerily old and filled with floating dust. You then noticed you were laying on a bed and you glanced around and took more in as the man kept speaking over his walkie.
“Bring her to the yard.” You over heard a voice say as you saw the man nod and you glanced over to the side table and noticed a photo of two people you knew.
Your parents.
Soon the man raised his weapon at you and you looked up at him sadly as he gripped your arm and you felt a slight pain on your wrists. You had been tied up with a plastic zip tie and it had rubbed against your skin so much you almost broke blood.
The man jerked you off the bed and placed his gun on your back and you made no sound, no sign of hesitation. You felt absolutely defeated and the war hadn’t even begun. You took a look at the room, your parents room. A place you hadn’t had the chance to truly embrace as home. This whole place you thought was supposed to be home. But it became grounds for evil. A place where the souls of your family are trapped forever.
“Let’s go.” The man pushed you towards the door and you compiled as you started to move.
The hallways were still covered in family portraits and decorations. The mansion had never been changed, had not been touched since the massacre. As you walked further and further you passed by the office, and you felt a piece of yourself grow light. Everything slowed down as you made your way past the room because you knew what had taken place.
The scenes of the events that had occurred flashed before your eyes. You could see your mother, tied to a chair, being beaten and tortured while your father watched in agony, screaming and begging for the men to stop. Your mother…. bleeding out, being stripped of her garments and abused. Your father watched as they placed the gun to her head and fired the last shot.
You saw your father cry. Losing hope and the love of his life, losing you. You felt his pain as you walked past. You felt everything like you never have before.
You walked down the stairs of the mansion and saw the dark beauty behind the way everything looked. It was a true shame, so much beauty and life sucked out of this home.
Once you made your way to the from door you saw another soldier standing by and looked at you unpleasantly. The soldier behind you pushed you into the other as the next one grabbed you and headed out to the front of the house. You looked ahead and saw your grandfather standing in the middle of the yard, almost ritualistically surrounded by men you knew only through photos. The network.
You were walked closer to your grandfather and then shoved to the ground as you tried to catch yourself with your hands tied. You felt the gravel of the ground damage your knees and scrape your hands and some of your face as you fell hard with a grunt. You heard your grandfather snicker to himself as he cleared his throat.
“I present to you all. The daughter of Lee Won Shik. LEE Y/N!”
You pushed yourself up off the ground and looked up at your grandfather as he spoke to the crowd.
“Y/N original mission was to infiltrate the Hwang family through their son, Hwang Hyunjin. A tactic we have all created together and implemented.”
You listened to this absurdity. Not only was your grandfather a monster but the whole network was behind him, that’s how his power never faded. There was so much corruption and evil around you that it made you afraid.
“Unfortunately, it seems that our very own has fallen deep into her work. She is now unfit to rule this family and has committed treason to us.”
You saw as the men who stood around you listened and you looked back up at your grandfather who smiled and continued.
“Lee Y/N is carrying the child of Hwang Hyunjin.”
Shocked responses from around you as you flared up at your grandfather broke the airy night. Your breathing grew heavy and you never broke eye contact with the man who stood before you. You knew the network would never turn on this man and you knew you were being tried.
“Lee Y/N, how do you plead?” Your grandfather smiled knowing that this was his most enjoyable event. He loathed you so much that the thought of your head on a plate was what got him here. You clenched your jaw and smiled back at him and laughed.
“Guilty.”
Your grandfather almost frowned to your answer, but scoffed. “Guilty, you heard the woman.”
He began to walk around you and look at the men around, “the Lee family has held its crown for decades, and we have ruled over all families. We will not allow a child stained with Hwang blood to succeed the throne of this business.”
You noticed lights ahead, lights belonging to a vehicle. Two then four then six… multiple cars approached and you felt okay knowing that Minho was close.. Hyunjin was close. The plan was about to be executed and the future was more clear for you.
The cars pulled up and you saw the reactions of everyone as they pulled their weapons up and aimed at the vehicles. The lights shining into your eyes cause you to look away and squinted as you heard the sound of the door opening and slamming shut.
“Stand down, everyone.” Your grandfather ordered and you heard the sound of weapons lowering.
“Lee Minho has come to complete his mission.” Your grandfather spoke and laughed, “He will execute the leader and take the crown as the new leader of the Lee Family.”
The lights of the car flashed off and you saw Minho in the dark, walking to you. His expression was full of rage and anger. You looked up at him as he looked down at you. In the back of his eyes you searched for a confirmation that the plan was in action and that his expressions were not drawn at you. But you found nothing, you couldn’t read him. His eyes were as black as the night sky and they held an incredible amount of hate. You felt yourself grow uneasy, you had trusted him. Surely he wasn’t going to pull the trigger on you, you trusted him to shoot you where it had been planned. You saw him inch towards you and he drew his weapon at you, aimed at your head.
“Minho..” you whispered.
“Now is the time Minho!” Your grandfather’s voice brought you back to the reality of the situation. You tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t real, Minhop wouldn’t dare to shoot you. But as you looked up at him, his gun aimed at your head, you weren’t so sure.
You thought back to the last conversation you had with Minho, and how in that moment you truly felt like this was a moment you weren’t supposed to question.
You peeked behind the wall at him as he stood in the middle of the night, looking up at the sky and sighing heavily to himself. You could feel his distress, his fear, his anxiety...all of it. It surrounded him as he kept digging a larger hole in his mind and you wondered what was going on. You wanted to speak to him, and you wanted to give him the space you knew he needed. But in the end it was ruined by you making a far too noticeable sound when you leaned against the door. Minho laughed a bit and turned his head softly as you grew embarrassed.
“ So you’re spying on me now, Y/N” He said softly and you cleared your throat as you walked closer to him and smiled.
“The boys said that you were out here, I just wanted to check in on you.” You said and Minho gleaned over at you and nodded.
“You guys are all counting on me but, I can’t do this Y/N '' Minho croaked out, almost chocking by tears and you looked at him in concern as he exhaled deeply.
“I keep playing it in my head, over and over again and I just…”
“Minho… don’t” You reached out your hand to touch his arm as he hung his head low.
“The first time he laid his hands on you...you were only seven.” You felt the guilt rise in him, everything that he was feeling that he kept deep inside was pouring out.
“I remember that day too well, I watched him take you to his chamber and I was so mad because I thought that you were getting a reward. I was so jealous and angry and then..”
You bit your lip at the memory, one that you try not to bring back to your mind, but Minho’s point of view made you realize that he had been struggling in a different way all these years.
“When I saw the bruises on your arms and face...I…” He paused and you saw him choke on the tears that were coming out without fail. You shook your head not wanting him to continue but he did anyways as you tried to comfort him.
“Y/N I didn’t want to get hurt the way you were, I thought if I ignored it, maybe one day it would go away. He would stop but..he didn’t.”
“ I know..”
“No, you don’t. I have failed to protect you for so long, and I have been against you for years. And now, I have to help you and I don’t know if I can. If I miss, if something happens, I’m responsible. What if you die?”
“I’m prepared to.” You spoke bluntly and Minho looked at you wide eyed, “I’m prepared to die, if it goes wrong.”
“But what about Hyunjin?”
You sighed, and reached into your back pocket and pulled out a note that you had been saving to give to Minho. “If I die, you give this to him.”
“I trust you Minho… I trust that you’re going to come and pull that trigger and you and I are going to change the world. I know it. I know I looked at you for years as the bad guy in my life, but you’re just as fucked up as me. We can’t fix that but we can evolve from it.” You said and he nodded at you and you sighed.
“I just don’t know what I would do if you got hurt, Y/N. I should of been there all these years-”
“So be there now. Be here for me now. Pull the trigger and help me.”
Minho glared at you and you felt tears starting to warm your eyes and your grandfather chuckled lowly.
“My oh my, what do we have here?”
“MINHO.” A loud yell came from behind and your eyes widened. What the fuck is he doing?”
You saw Hyunjin storm his way past the cars and saw his men trail behind him. You noticed Changbin, Jisung, and Chan as well as Seungmin and Felix behind with their weapons as Hyunjin kept approaching. Your mind went numb. This wasn’t the plan.
Minho never took his eyes off of you and he was incredibly still and locked on you. You felt your heartbeat quicken when you saw Hyunjin approach you two and then all weapons drew.
Hyunjin looked at you and you looked back in complete fear and confusion.
“Minho put your gun down.” Hyunjin ordered and you watched as he held his weapon at Minho.
“No.” Minho looked at you and you looked up at him. You were trying so hard to make sense of the situation. This wasn’t what you had discussed and what you agreed on. This was different. Something different was happening and you were lost. Everything felt wrong.
“Minho, what’s going on?” You whispered at him and you watched as he began to ease on the tension, somehow your words brought him back.
“Minho.. I’m fucking warning you…” Hyunjin held his gun and you looked at Hyunjin.
“HYUNJIN PUT YOUR GUN DOWN!” You screamed.
“NO Y/N, HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU.”
The pounding of your heart was in your ears as you looked at Hyunjin. He stood in front of you, gun pointed at Minho. His eyes were dark, like he craved this. You felt hazy, nothing in that moment felt real. Your knees grew sore from being in the gravel. You looked up to the side of you and saw Minho. His eyes, sad and hurting. You thought he would cry. But how could he in this moment. But the gun in his hand at you didn’t feel staged anymore. Nothing felt right. You were beginning to question your sanity. Had all of this been a lie? Were you once again fooled? Your grandfather’s claps interrupted your thought process as you turned to him as he chuckled.
“All three of you. In one vicinity. How delightful it is to see sucha scene, and how pathetic it is to see the son of Hyun-woo sacrificing his life yet again for a woman.” Hyunjin clenched his jaw as he looked at you and you stared back. He was hard to read, something that never was difficult before. He looked busy in his mind, thinking about something deeply. You turned to Minho and he looked down at you as you tried to read him. Blank. You felt your heartbeat quicken and the pit of your stomach felt light. Where were they? Why were they not with you?
“Since I have you three here, I might as well use this to my advantage.” your grandfather stepped closer and looked at Minho.
“Shoot her.”
“Don’t you dare.” Hyunjin growled.
“Shoot her Minho.”
“Minho I swear to god, don’t you dare pull that trigger.”
“No?” Your grandfather looked at Hyunjin and he smiled at him. “ Then you pull it Hyunjin. Pull yours.”
You looked at the scene and felt tears brim your eyes. Nothing felt right and this was not the plan. You looked to Hyunjin and then Minho. Minho began to shake and you pleaded with your eyes.
“I don’t care who pulls the trigger, it means nothing to me. One of you has to die anyways…”
Those words sent chills down your spine. No matter the outcome, your grandfather felt no remorse if anyone were to die. It was painful, but not shocking. He ordered the death of your family and has no sense of guilt for what he has done. You bit your lip and almost felt like the plan would have caused nothing but more anger and pain. So maybe you would be okay if Minho pulled the trigger. Maybe this was the best thing for everyone.
“You heard him Y/N.” Minho said softly and you looked at him in fear as he cocked his gun back and you saw the light escape his eyes, full blown rage.
“One of us has to die.”
You closed your eyes, letting a tear run down your cheek as you prepared mentally for the pain, for the sorrow. It ends here, you thought. This was for the best.
The last thing you heard was the sound of the gun firing it’s bullet, leaving you stunned, cold, and quiet.
A/N: SO sorry this came out late, you are all so eager and I was trying to type and proof between shifts :( Being an ADULT is hard, but anyways. We have reached the end. Next week is the last chapter. I could actually cry. As always let me know your thoughts and I will see you on the other side loves:)
Taglist: @hyunfeji @zenzedana @datura-inoxia @ninjaleeknow @beethiin @hyunsxle @hwangful @huntressfrost25 @exonations @p0t4t0don14ll @beaann @minaamhh
#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin imagines#hyunjin x female reader#hyunjin x you#hyunjin smut#lee know#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#seo changbin#han jisung#bang chan#skz smut#skz imagines#skz hyunjin#skz fanfic#hell above series
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Mystery at the Salt-Irons
Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!
I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later)
That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!
Here’s the chapter over at Ao3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095
Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005
and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for
https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works
Summary: Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.
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The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.
Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.
If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.
Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.
Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.
That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.
Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.
Until today.
The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.
It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.
Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.
The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.
“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.
Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.
Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.
Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.
Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.
No response.
He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.
His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”
The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.
No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.
He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.
“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.
He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.
Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.
He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.
“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”
There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”
“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”
Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.
He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.
“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.
Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”
“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”
“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”
Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”
“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”
“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”
Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”
“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”
Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”
“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”
“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”
“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”
Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.
Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.
There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.
The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.
Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.
The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.
Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.
“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”
Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.
“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”
He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.
“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously
“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”
“No iron or sliver?”
Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”
Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”
“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”
“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”
Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”
“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”
Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.
“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”
“Flying rats!”
-----
The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.
They were also allowed to be wrong.
Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.
“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”
Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.
Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”
Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”
“Scout’s honor.”
Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”
“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”
“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”
“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”
Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”
Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”
“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.
Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.
“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.
“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”
Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.
“No. Have you…?”
Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”
Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”
“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”
“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”
That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.
Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.
Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.
Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.
There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.
“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.
Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”
Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”
“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”
“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”
“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”
“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”
Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”
“What’s the contract?”
“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”
“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”
“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”
“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”
“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”
“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”
Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”
“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”
“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”
“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”
Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”
“Shinier than the sun.”
“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”
“Yep.”
“You gonna fix that?”
Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”
“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”
“All you need is love?”
“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”
-----
A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.
It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.
The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.
Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.
Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.
Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.
Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved
Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.
He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.
“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”
“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”
The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.
Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”
Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.
“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”
He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.
Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”
“It’s ash?”
Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”
Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.
“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”
“I’ll paying double.”
The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”
“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”
It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.
“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”
“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”
Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.
Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.
“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”
“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”
“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”
Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”
“I’ll text you when I have something.”
“Pleasure as always Theo.”
“It’s Brewmaster.”
-----
It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.
“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”
Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.
Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.
It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.
The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.
“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.
He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.
Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.
A thunderstorm it seems.
Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.
Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.
A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.
Without warning.
“Well that’s not ominous.”
Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.
“Watch out below!”
Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.
Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.
It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.
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dance me to the end of love (iii)
word count: 4.3k
warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential percy jackson & the olympians spoilers, alcohol consumption, motion sickness and vomiting
series masterpost: here
a/n: this took me a hot sec to finish but here it is! there's a dumb little latin joke in here but that's just because i'm a nerd lmao
Ryan is certainly giving Bette a run for her money in the best friend department.
Magdalene has no intentions of usurping her best friend, but Ryan is quickly becoming the person she talks to most frequently. It started on social media but quickly moved to regular texting, both of them being twenty-five and capable of communicating through more normal channels. The text thread between them isn’t indicative of their newfound friendship – it looks like they’ve been friends since high school. At any given moment at least three conversations are going on, and Magdalene regularly sends him random updates throughout the day. Ryan likes hearing about any interesting artefacts she encounters at work so she keeps mental notes to tell him during their frequent phone calls.
Despite talking to him almost constantly, Magdalene hasn’t seen Ryan since they grabbed lunch at Barn Owl nearly two weeks ago. The lake house trip is a couple days out, and she’s been busy trying to get all her ducks in a row. At work, the current project is coming to an end and Magdalene will be sad to see it go – it’s the first thing she’s been on from start to finish. She’s got a neighbour coming to spend time with Caligula while she’s away so he doesn’t get too upset. Though the days are passing by in a haze as she tries to get ready, Magdalene is excited to get away for a little bit. It’s been a few years since she’s left Denver for more than a night, electing to skip on Bette’s previous vacation invites, and it will be nice to slow down. Life is moving at a comfortable pace, but having some time to pause and breathe will keep Magdalene from feeling too overwhelmed.
Halfway through her last day of work, Magdalene gets a text from Ryan that makes her nearly double over in laughter.
Julius Caesar walks into a bar and says to the bartender “I’ll have a Martinus please!” The bartender replies “Don’t you mean a Martini?” Caesar shakes his head and says “If I wanted double I would have said so.”
It takes her a minute to catch her breath, which piques June’s curiosity. Magdalene recites the joke and her boss rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but does let out a chuckle.
June didn’t think it was funny, but I did. Thank you for making today infinitely better. You riding with us tomorrow?
Magdalene tucks her phone back into her purse, determined to remain focused for the last few hours, and misses the reply telling her that Ryan won’t be riding with Bette, Tyson, and herself, but rather with Cale and his girlfriend to leave enough space for all the gear getting brought. She doesn’t see it until she’s walking across the parking lot to her car and it fills her with a sadness that doesn’t make much sense. He’ll be there for the entire week, so does it matter that he’ll be in a different car for the four hour drive? Magdalene has a sinking suspicion about why she’s upset, but she pushes it down. There’s no space in your life for a relationship right now, she reminds herself as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Caligula is waiting patiently at the door and distracts her thoughts from the handsome man with the kind smile that’s been all she can think about recently.
The cat is incredibly perceptive and knows the regular routine is going to change, making him particularly clingy. He follows Magdalene as she finishes packing, meowing and begging for pets, and she considers bailing on her friends. Caligula has mild separation anxiety and Magdalene doesn’t go away often partly because of it – though another reason is her homebody nature. Only the thought of seeing Ryan keeps her from hanging all her clothes back up.
“Don’t worry little boots,” she coos, “I won’t be gone long. Maria is going to check on you while I’m away, and I’ll be home before you know it.”
It seems ridiculous to speak to her pet as though it’s a child, but Magdalene knows Caligula comprehends what she’s saying. He’s always been smart, and the two of them share a bond that’s hard to explain. She picks him up, puts him in the pocket of her hoodie, and they spend the rest of the night packing and dancing along to the radio.
☼☼☼☼
Bette forgot to mention that the road to the lake house is winding, and Magdalene spends the entire ride with her head between her knees. Motion sickness is something that unfortunately plagues her during journeys longer than a couple of hours and she wishes she would have thought to take anti-nausea medication before leaving the house. Tyson tries to crack a joke about her being a bad passenger, but his girlfriend swats his arm and passes her friend a water bottle with a concerned smile. The two of them speak in hushed tones, almost certainly for Magdalene's benefit, and she does her best not to throw up on the floor of Tyson’s car. After what feels like two decades the vehicle rolls to a stop at the end of a gravel path.
“Mags, we’re here,” Bette says softly, praying that her friend will begin to feel better after stretching her legs and feeling firm ground underneath her.
There’s an unintelligible groan from Magdalene, but she rises out of the car and stumbles into the house. Tyson and Bette insist that she rest and they’ll handle the unloading of the car, so she crawls into one of the empty beds and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow. It’s a dreamless slumber, one fuelled by the pure exhaustion of battling illness while travelling, and when she awakes hours later Magdalene feels oddly refreshed. Her energy level is still relatively low, but she knows that intaking food won’t be an issue.
Padding down the stairs as quiet as possible in an effort to not break the peaceful atmosphere, Magdalene is met with a quiet house. She’s utterly confused – she didn’t sleep long enough to miss dinner and judging by the way the sun is low in the final car full of people should be arriving any minute. For a moment she thinks the group left her in the mountains alone, but then the sound of a trunk closing breaks the silence.
“I fucking told you bro, you should have let me drive!”
Ryan’s voice echoes in Magdalene's ears and her heart skips a beat. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him or how excited she is to see him. Despite everything inside of her saying she should run into his arms Magdalene stays put in the kitchen, running the tap to get a glass of water. She focuses on the mountain on the other end of the lake, framing the setting sun and creating a postcard ready photo. The camera app on her phone is open and angles for the best shot are found. Ryan tumbles through the door a second later, arms filled to the brim with luggage and bags of food.
He drops them the second he sees her, running up behind her and lifting her off the ground. “Mags! Cale almost hit a deer!”
The shock of Ryan’s onslaught of affection catches her off guard, and Magdalene shakes her hand, forcing the picture to turn out as nothing but a blur.
“No hello?” She laughs as Ryan lets her feet touch down on the wooden floor. “It’s the least you could give me after destroying my chance of getting a National Geographic worthy picture.”
He smiles but doesn’t let his hands drop from their perch on her waist. “There’s six more days for you to nail it. I’ll even help if you ask.”
Other bodies enter the house then, causing Magdalene to slink away from Ryan’s touch even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. They’re simply friends, and she doesn’t want Bette to get any ideas. The last thing Magdalene needs on her plate right now is her best friend forcing her to paint a custom denim jacket with Ryan’s number across the back. “I can’t believe you almost hit a deer,” Tyson sighs in disbelief.
“It wasn’t even close,” Cale grumbles, picking up his bags and stomping off to find a place to claim as his own the next couple of days. A petite redhead follows after him, giving a small wave to those in the kitchen before scurrying away. When she asks, Ryan tells Magdalene the girl’s name is Livy, and that she’s Cale’s girlfriend from back home.
Everyone shrugs at his moodiness and disperses. Bette and Tyson stay in the kitchen to make dinner, Ryan goes to claim the final room, and Magdalene slips outside to sit on the patio furniture. The sun has dropped drastically in the past five minutes, causing the air to chill. She wraps her arms tighter around her legs and watches a pair of birds fly over the lake below. It’s so peaceful, a complete one-eighty from the insanity of her life in Denver, and Magdalene thinks about never leaving. She knows it’s impossible, but as she closes her eyes and listens to the quiet laughter of her friends inside the idea seems like a pretty good one.
The sliding door creaks open and Ryan goes through as quietly as possible. He tosses a sweater in Magdalene’s direction as he walks over, plopping down beside her on the small couch.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, slipping the fabric over her head. “I didn’t realize how cold it had actually gotten.”
He smiles in response and shuffles his body a little closer to create extra warmth. Magdalene leans into him, trying to appear casual even though her heart is beating rapidly, and pulls on the strings of the sweater Ryan gave her.
“So, are you excited for this week?”
It’s more awkward than she thought it would be – seeing him in person again, especially since they’ve been texting almost constantly, and the words kind of stick in her throat.
“Honestly? Now that I’m here I am, but I was a little leery about taking time off,” Ryan explains, detailing how he’s trying to improve some aspects of his two-way play and is worried his progress will plateau. Magdalene understands and shares her own worries about taking time off work even if her boss encouraged it.
After catching up quickly and running out of things to say, the pair of them sit in silence watching the sun set until they’re called inside for dinner. It’s nice to just exist, especially with Ryan beside her, and Magdalene feels her heart sink as they separate and he goes to make sure Cale isn’t actually mad at him.
☼☼☼☼
It storms the first two days at the lake house, forcing everyone to stay inside. Tyson complains about how he has less time to drive the boat that came with the property but the others take it in stride. Magdalene spends most of the time reading for pleasure, something she hasn’t been able to do much of the past few years, and Ryan joins her for large chunks of the time. It turns out that he too is an avid reader, and the two of them discuss their favourite novels and series while the other four play board games.
“So you’re telling me you wish Annabeth would have joined the Hunters of Artemis?” Magdalene shrieks in shock, almost knocking the wine out of her glass as her arms flail in disbelief.
“I think it made sense for her to,” Ryan defends.
“But she’s perfect for Percy!”
He sticks to his guns. “I’m not saying she isn’t. I just think that at the time the offer was presented it was the most logical choice. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what would have happened if she did.”
She ducks her head in defeat because she had imagined it, on many occasions in fact. When reading the series for the first time in middle school Magdalene had desperately hoped Annabeth would choose the Hunters over Camp Half-Blood, gaining the family she herself never was privy to. They return to reading quietly beside each other, occasionally knocking elbows when trying to turn a page.
Tuesday brings sunshine and clear skies, which means Tyson is trying to corral everyone into the boat as soon as they’re up. Magdalene tries her hardest to get out of it but her pleas fall on deaf ears.
“You’ll be fine, stop being such a wimp,” Cale jests. She knows that he’s just anxious to soak up some sun, but the words hurt more than Magdalene would have liked them to.
Livy swats her boyfriend across the chest. “Enough! If she doesn’t want to come she doesn’t have to.” The smaller girl sends her a kind smile before speaking low enough that only Magdalene can hear her. “I know your book is just getting good and you look like the kind of person who needs alone time to function properly. Enjoy yourself.”
Seemingly excused from the day’s festivities, Magdalene gives a sheepish wave before climbing the small hill to the house. Ryan meets her halfway and is appalled when he hears of her plans.
“Nope, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me alone to be the ultimate third wheel!”
He has her off the ground and over his shoulder in a millisecond, jogging lightly to catch up with the rest of the group. Magdalene’s laugh bounces off the tree lined shore, and she’s too busy having fun shrieking at Ryan to complain about being forced to spend all day on a boat away from her book. Tyson peels away from the dock before she can regret tagging along, and Bette tugs Magdalene to the bow.
The two girls chat quietly, giggling and sipping on the mimosas they made earlier. Magdalene isn’t a huge day drinker, but Bette makes sure there’s more orange juice than champagne to make her feel less guilty. Livy joins them a while later after becoming sick of the boys and their shenanigans. It’s nice to hang out with a group of girls that aren’t competing for the top spot in a class, Magdalene decides, and she revels in the stories they tell of going to hockey games and babysitting the children of players so they can catch a break. Twinges of jealousy creep up at the wonderful family dynamic the Avalanche seem to have, but she stomachs them. She reminds herself that other people deserve to have support systems and excuses herself from the conversation.
Magdalene slides into the free space beside Ryan, and without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder. It feels so natural that she wonders if it’s how he greets all his friends, but the looks of shock and Tyson and Cale’s faces say otherwise. After a bit more cruising they find a small bay to anchor in for a while. The sun had climbed to the middle of the sky and is unbearably warm, leaving everyone no choice but to jump into the water to cool off. Magdalene does her best to float peacefully a short distance away from the group but is somehow brought into a splashing war because the teams aren’t equal.
Eventually the constant barrage of water chills her to the bone, and Magdalene swims back to the boat. She watches from the sidelines and cheers for her old teammates with a towel wrapped snugly around her. Ryan breaks from the group too, insisting it isn’t fair to have teams on unequal strength. Once dry, he picks up the baseball cap he brought and places it delicately on Magdalene’s head.
“Your cheeks are starting to go pink and I don’t want you to burn,” he explains, passing her a bottle of sunscreen as well.
“Thanks Ry.”
They muse about the idyllic beauty of the scene in front of them until everyone rejoins them. For reasons unbeknownst to Magdalene Tyson is in a rush to get back to the house, which leads to him driving very fast and a little erratically. The contents of her stomach threaten to come up but she holds them down, tightening her grip on the leather seat. A wave crests and Tyson hits it head on, causing the boat to lurch and rock. Magdalene knows it’s going to happen before it does and leans over the side to save a mess from being created. All the alcohol and food she’d consumed throughout the day is no longer in her body, and heat creeps up the back of her neck. She’s embarrassed – what twenty-five year old gets sea sick?
“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.
She tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace. “I just, uh, get motion sick really easily.” Bette passes her a water bottle and she drinks it quickly, eager to get the taste out of her mouth.
Ryan lets Magdalene curl into his side the rest of the way home, and rubs comforting circles on her back to ease her discomfort, doing his best to ignore the stares from his friends.
☼☼☼☼
The trip comes to an end much more quickly than Magdalene would have liked. Tomorrow morning they’ll pack up and drive back to Denver, returning to their normal hectic schedules. Cale and Livy are heading back to Alberta for the rest of the summer, and Bette and Tyson will be going for a visit as well. She’s heard Ryan mention going home in passing, which most likely means he doesn’t have plans to stay. Magdalene will be all alone in Colorado, but she’s used to it. The only issue being friends with professional athletes is that they leave. She’s been dealing with the loss since Bette and Tyson got together years ago – having them around as her support system most of the year and then them disappearing for a couple of months.
Not wanting to think about how soon she’ll be alone, Magdalene heads outside and starts a campfire. It’s a skill she picked up as a kid and it has come in handy over the years. The newspaper crinkles under the flame from the lighter, and soon the kindling is burning well. Everyone else is still inside, cleaning up from dinner and preparing for one last night in paradise. She places a few blocks of wood in the fire pit once there’s a good enough flame and curls up in a chair, lost in thought about what comes next. There’s rustling from somewhere behind her but she pays it no mind, assuming it’s a small animal wandering through the forest.
“Can I offer you some company?” a voice says softly, waiting for a response. The movement wasn’t a raccoon but in fact Ryan, and Magdalene gestures at the chair beside her with a smile.
He passes her a glass of white wine, which she takes with an appreciative hum. They sit in silence for a moment, admiring the beauty of the setting sun. “I’m going to miss it,” Ryan sighs, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs.
She nods. “Me too. It’s so quiet up here. Denver gets too loud sometimes.”
“Tell me about it. I’m not just going to miss the lake though, it’s also lounging around and not having to worry about hockey. And you.”
The ending comes out rushed, and Magdalene isn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Me?”
Ryan looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, and catch all of my West Wing references. There’s no one who gets me quite like you, even back home.”
It takes her by surprise. They’ve only known each other for a few months, and only really started associating after the party at Bette and Tyson’s. There has to be somebody who knows him better than she does. When she voices her opinion Ryan just scoffs, saying that people treat him as one-dimensional because he plays hockey. Somehow the conversation shifts to Magdalene, and when she lets it slip she gets lonely in Denver without her friends, Ryan asks the question she’s been dreading.
“So why don’t you get a boyfriend?”
“I can’t just get a boyfriend because my friends are gone,” she laughs, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s unsure of where this will go and how to question the follow ups.
He rolls his eyes. “I know that, but like, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to not be alone all the time?”
It would be, Magdalene thinks, but she just shrugs. “I guess I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just finished school and for the first time in a long time I can focus on myself.” She leaves out the part where Ryan gives her butterflies and that if he asked she’d probably jump headfirst into a relationship with him.
The topic is dropped then because Tyson comes out of the house screaming about the night is going to be wild because it’s their last together for a while. Magdalene and Ryan share a look of mild panic, but both of them are itching to have fun with friends so they raise their glasses in salute before finishing them in one gulp.
Magdalene drinks more than she should and wakes in the morning with a killer hangover. It seems that no one else is better off though, all stumbling around looking for Advil and coffee like it’s going to be their last meal. Packing up takes a bit longer than expected, but they’re still out before the official checkout time. There’s a bit of discourse on who Magdalene will travel home with. Bette wants her in Tyson’s car, no doubt to talk about how close her and Ryan seem to be, but Cale offers to bring her with them. His reasoning is that Ryan is driving him and Livy directly to the airport, and having the front seat could be good for her motion sickness. It’s ultimately Magdalene’s choice and the idea of having more time with Ryan before he leaves is too enticing to pass up. She bids her other friends goodbye, promising to come over for dinner before they fly out, and climbs into the cab of Cale’s truck.
Once again she’s a less than ideal passenger, but this time it’s because she sleeps the entire way back to Denver. The drinking took it out of her and coupled with the queasiness in her stomach from the winding roads sleep is the only thing that makes sense. So much for extra time with Ryan she thinks as she wakes up in the airport parking lot.
“Sleeping beauty has risen!” Ryan chuckles, “Why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a sec? We have the parking spot for another fifteen minutes.”
Magdalene does as suggested because truthfully her joints are a little stiff, and finds Cale and Livy grabbing their bags from the back. She hugs them goodbye and wishes them safe travels, which Cale returns with a warning not to get into too much trouble before heading for the entrance. Once both of them are safely inside the confines of the airport, Ryan and Magdalene get back in the vehicle and finish the last leg of the trip.
She directs Ryan to her apartment complex, and he mentions that he’s never been in this area of the city. “That’s because you have no need to be around a bunch of university kids,” she laughs. Once they pull into the parking lot, he offers to help her take up her bag. It’s only a small suitcase Magdalene could definitely handle herself, but she wants him to come up, to prolong her time with him.
Magdalene’s keys jingle in the lock as the door opens. Ryan follows her in and shuts the door carefully, not wanting to disrupt the aura of peace that permeates the space. From what he can tell, the average size apartment is the perfect reflection of Magdalene – packed full of books and plants and feels very put together despite the owner being only twenty-five. After their shoes find a home on the boot rack and the coats they brought for the drive home are hung in the closet she leads Ryan into the living room. There’s a soft purring by his feet, and Ryan looks down to see an animal. He never pegged Magdalene as someone to keep pets.
“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to pet the small white cat.
“That’s Caligula.”
A puzzled look graces Ryan’s features. “Who?”
“Caligula,” Madalene giggles. “You can call him little boots if you’d like. He’ll respond.” She picks up the animal when it comes to her and scratches gently behind its ear.
“Why would you name your cat something dumb like Caligula, and why does it respond to little boots?”
It’s then the woman realizes that not everyone understands the reference. “Caligula was the third emperor of Rome,” she explains, “But his real name was Gaius. He gained the nickname Caligula as a child and it just stuck. It translates to little boots in Latin.”
Ryan is in awe of Magdalene for what feels like the millionth time. Of course someone as smart as her would have a crazy name for a pet and have the knowledge to back it up. He feels his chest tighten with affection but he wills it away. She isn’t looking for anything right now, he reminds himself. Magdalene’s self-professed inability to reciprocate his feelings is frustrating, but Ryan knows he’d wait forever for her.
☼☼☼☼
additional notes: catch some extra content here!
taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @ricohenrique @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 (add yourself to the taglist!)
#ryan graves imagine#ryan graves x oc#ryan graves fic#colorado avalanche imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fic#hockey imagine#hockey fic#cwrites#dmtteol
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More of where Snack came from
This is what happens when you discuss narrative parallels between them and end up creating scenes during the conversation. @thedreamermusing wrote the Sirius parts, while I wrote the Snape ones.
Here is a little AU, where Sirius lives at the end of Order of Phoenix.
When Sirius sees Lily's patronus--beautiful and graceful and almost forgotten in the years in Azkaban -- landing in the kitchen of Grimmauld place, he's mystified, remembering when James saw it for the first time. 'We're made for each other,' he'd said, spinning Lily around in his arms. Sirius reverently reaches out an arm to touch it. And then---'Black,' a silky voice made of grease and cold water says. 'Your godson is of the opinion that you aren't uselessly hiding away in your mother's house and somehow thinks that you're with the Dark Lord. Do try to prove him wrong and stay where you are.' As the patronus fades away, the only thought left in Sirius's mind is 'Motherfucker'.
..
Snape always wondered if his life was an elaborate joke. It was humiliating enough, revealing his Patronus to Black, of all people. He was dreading stepping foot in the house. It was amazing - how showing that vulnerable part of himself, that part he asked Dumbledore to swear no one must know, makes him feel like a teenager again. Powerless. Anxious. Twitchy. This is all the fault of that stupid boy - if he didn't prize that connection of his, if he had heeded what was said, he would not have been in this position. It's only luck that no one got killed for his stupidity. Luck favours everyone but him, apparently.
To Snape's horror, he was early at the headquarters. Black was sitting at the long table, reading a letter. He stilled when he entered. "Snape" Black acknowledged gruffly, without looking up. He didn't deign to respond. It was a trap - whatever it was. He wondered when that ridiculous woman would come and knock over the umbrella, so that the entire house is filled with Black's delightful mother's shrieks. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Black looking up at him. "So....Evans?"
Snape's insides were glacial. Don't react, don't react, don't react. He used her maiden name to get a rise out of you .. lull you into a false sense of security...
It seemed that Black was amused by his inability to respond. This made him angry. "Well, it turns out I no longer doubt your alliegances" he continued. "So what's in it for you Snivellus? Revenge?"
Snape raised his eyebrows. "Spare me your curiosity. You know as well as I do that I have no inclination to chat with you". "But I want to chat with you" Black smirked. "You see, I want to make sense of this". Snape reached for the handle of his wand instinctively. "Contrary to whatever you may believe, Black, you are not entitled to any answers and certainly not from me".
"When did you turn spy?" Black asked abruptly. "Were you the one who told Dumbledore that there was someone close to us who had betrayed us?"
Snape said nothing. He would give nothing to Black, no information about that hideous year spent fearing for her life and his own, tangled in loyalties he knew not where. "I am going to take that as a yes" Black said, his grey eyes boring into him. "Why did you do it? What really made you turn?"
"Shut up" he hissed, finally drawing his wand and flicking it into his most useful spell, Langlock. No one can know. No one, he remembered telling Dumbledore.
Black stopped speaking as his tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth. He looked furious as he whipped out his own wand. The Order filed in just then - all looking unsurprised to see them both pointing their wands at each other. "Sirius, please" the werewolf implored. Black looked up at him angrily, but his jinx rendered him unable to say whatever was on his mind.
For the first time since he stepped into the house, the anxiety in Snape's chest eased a bit. He still had power. He was no longer that young boy - no longer. "Unfortunately for us, Black wouldn't be gracing us with his remarkable wit today," he said, stuffing his own wand back into his robes. The werewolf glared at him. He sneered. "It's quite alright, not like he has been upto anything useful recently - apart from not getting lured into the Ministry to run after his idiot of a godson. And we don't want endless reminisces of that, do we?"
..
'Fucking Snivellus,' Sirius thought furiously, hardly listening to the Order meeting. It burned--burned him to think he owed his and Harry's life to the greasy bastard, that he'd listened to the warning and stayed put, that Harry and his friends were apprehended before they went on to make a tragedy of things at the Ministry. He never would have thought Snape would be capable of such depth of emotion, that he felt so deeply for Lily. He'd known of course that they were friends of a sort in their initial years at Hogwarts, something James railed about constantly back then. But he'd never considered it important, thought Snape was a bit of a charity case for Lily. But he should have known better; Lily wasn't one to make friends out of charity. She'd seen something in him evidently, something they had all missed.
And yet, none of them had seen anything in Peter.
Sirius glares at Snape, who continues to glare back. 'Fucking greasy bat. Why couldn't you just be an enemy?' To think that Sirius had gotten it all so wrong about Peter, his brother in all but blood, the boy he'd patiently tutored through the animagus transformation, the boy who he would have died for while Snape, fucking Snivellus Snape, would end up being loyal to a friend who'd cut him off years earlier, would switch sides and save Sirius's life even--it's funny really. He's tempted to laugh, laugh like a maniac, at the absurdity, the injustice, out of grief--let out all his curled up emotions in a big hearty laugh. But then again, that hadn't worked out so well for him 15 years ago. So the only thing he can do is glare at Snape. But the familiar hatred is more unsettling now than comforting.
..
Snape couldn't help but stiffen at the prickly sensation of being watched during his meeting report. He knew without really looking that it was Black - Black trying to fish out his truth with his grey eyes, truth that he is not willing to give to him. He would leave immediately after the meeting - perhaps ask Dumbledore whether he could just give his reports in person, in his office, rather than bother coming to Headquarters. After all, the Order is hardly a democracy with Dumbledore controlling what information gets presented in his report and what remains between them. What's the difference? It's not a good idea anymore to come here. And Black will surely be prepared for his jinx next time - he can't be stupid enough to hope he will get him to shut up everytime.
So when the meeting got over, he jumped to his feet, ready to escape, when a thin hand gripped his shoulder. Snape turned around, pulling out his wand and wasn't surprised to find it pointed at Black's face.
A small, teenage part of him wanted to yell, leave me alone!
"Easy" Black said, quietly. He made no move to take out his wand. It could perhaps be the werewolf close by, watching them. "I want answers. I am grateful you saved Harry's life- and if I hadn't known what I know about you now, I would have not thought too much about this. But I want to know, Snape. I want to know what happened before they died. I want to know how many other transgressions I should be killing Wormtail for".
Snape took in the look on his face. "You want me to help with murder? Great idea Black, since I was on receiving end of your clever jokes-"
"You don't want to kill him?" Black interuppted, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "You wanted to get me Kissed by Dementors because you thought I killed her and now-"
"I can't kill him!" Snape hissed at him.A twisted truth came tumbling out of him. He wanted to - oh, he wanted to. He went on: "Unfortunately for you, not every fight is won by smashing your way in like a moronic Gryffindor - there are things only I can do and I don't intend to put myself in any position that is dangerous to the cause".
There was a silence. "Fair enough. " Black said, stepping back. Snape thought it was safer to put his own wand back into his pocket now. "You don't kill him" Black simply said. "You help me find him".
Snape looked at him in utter disbelief. He couldn't believe him ."Didn't you just hear me? I am not risking blowing my cover. There will be a time for that and an opportunity will arise - he is no longer useful to the Dark Lord. But I don't want any eyes on me and certainly not for your schemes. Get your wolf to do it for you - at least he can plead temporary insanity".
"Leave him out of it" Black said harshly, glancing at him sitting close by. "Too late for that, isn't it?" Snape said, softly. "You involved him in the first place. What's the matter? These are your rules, I am just playing by them".
Black looked like he was praying for patience before he said what he did next. "I don't suppose you will tell me about that year". Snape sneered at him. "No, I won't. Now, goodbye Black " he whipped out of the headquarters, hoping he'd never have to step foot in it again.
.
Remus approached Sirius, a little amused. "Well, that went well. " Sirius shrugged. "I suppose. I still need him to tell me about Peter". Remus' eyes were cold. "You think he would help us?"
"He has to," Sirius said flatly. "After what Peter did to Harry in the graveyard, I am going to kill him with my bare hands if I have to".
Now if anyone wants to make this full fledged AU where they all corner Wormtail and revise their traumas and deep projections in the process, feel free to continue. XD
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Autistic Hiccup x ADHD Anna Headcanons
SO I’ve been really into the whole Autistic x ADHD ship dynamic and Hiccanna...highkey fits??? Like y’all know I will die on my “Anna has ADHD” hill, but after reading this post by @hobie-brown I’m like wait, the autistic Hiccup headcanon is wonderful too??? And blends SO WELL with ADHD Anna??? And I absolutely HAD to explore it more so BOOM headcanon time! Another special thanks to @hobie-brown for writing the super lovely autistic Hiccup headcanon masterpost that inspired me to do this!
Disclaimer: I myself am not on the spectrum (part of the reason I’ve always felt a little weird about definitively HCing characters as autistic unless I see actual autistic people HC them that way too), so most of the stuff here is stuff I know secondhand from my autistic friends! I do have ADHD, so I can always promise that ADHD Anna will be 100% authentic XD
~Anna absolutely gets into Hiccup’s special interests to try and impress him. The most obvious one being, of course, dragons, but also dinosaurs (extinct dragons), lizards (tiny dragons), and Dungeons and Dragons (An RPG game that does, in fact, include dragons). Hiccup absolutely had that dragonology book as a kid and got obsessed with it beyond all reasonability. Hilariously, Anna’s wooing strategy of indulging his special interests works like a charm--mainly because a) he’s pretty flattered that someone takes THAT much of an interest in what he likes and b) half the time, ANNA finds that she genuinely gets into whatever said special interest is and finds them easy to hyperfixate on. It helps that the more she obsesses over it herself, the more she has to talk to Hiccup about XD
~Specifically, Anna definitely joins a DnD campaign at some point so that Hiccup will think she’s a “cool gamer girl”--and then gets unironically obsessed with it and starts writing 10-page backstories for all of her characters. She later tells Hiccup it started out as a ruse to win his heart via nerdiness, and he absolutely loses his shit laughing.
~One of their overlapping special interests/hyperfixations is high fantasy. Hiccup is, unsurprisingly, all about the mythical creatures while Anna is more into the magic and the zesty political drama, but you dun best believe they catch every CGI-ridden fantasy movie that ever comes out. They’ve both spent a literal fortune on fantasy movie tickets, even moreso on watching them in 3D or Imax. How embarrassing for both of them.
~Another less-obvious overlapping interest is history. Hiccup gets into it while looking into the cultural mythos of dragons (he’s pretty fascinated by the fact that so many cultures around the world thought up similar creatures independently), while Anna gets into it because she grew up cooped up bored and lonely in a big house, and entertained herself by looking into the history behind some of the family paintings. They don’t seem it at first, but they’re actually both huge medieval and ancient civilization history buffs.
~Hiccup is THE most touch-repulsed person you will ever meet. This is unfortunate, as he is also SUPER touch-starved and absolutely does not realize it (I mean, I’ve never gotten the vibe Stoic was the super huggy type, considering his and Hicc’s relationship in HTTYD 1). This means he has absolutely no fucking clue what to make of Anna when they first meet meet. Anna’s the sort of person to give physical affection pretty freely, especially if she likes you--usually in the form of hugs, arm pats or playful swats, putting her elbow on your shoulder, etc etc. Hiccup is kinda just like “this is way too much touching but like??? I kinda like having her this close to me??? What do???”
~Anna, meanwhile, notices that Hiccup kinda stiffens up whenever she touches him and seems to not be crazy about it and she’s just immediately like “yo what’s wrong???” And as SOON as he admits he’s not all that crazy about being touched randomly she’s like “OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY” and never touches him without asking again.
~As soon as she finds out touch a kind of A Whole Thing for him, Anna is like...AGGRESSIVELY respectful of Hiccup’s boundaries when it comes to physical affection. Almost annoyingly so. She gets in the habit of basically never initiating any kind of physical touch without asking first--even long after they’ve started dating, and he’s told her it’s okay to initiate touching as long as she’s not smothery about it. She still refuses out of principle.
~They come up with a kind of “consent language” so Anna can pretty quickly determine when it’s all right to touch Hiccup--because Anna still really likes being physically affectionate with him, and he does actually like receiving physical affection a lot of the time (because, again, touch-starved), he’s just choosy about who does it. They work out a system based off of small, light touches that Hiccup doesn’t mind where it’s basically 2 taps on his shoulder for “can I hug you around the neck,” 2 taps on his side for “can I hug you around the waist,” 2 taps on his arm for “can I grab/lightly slap/punch your arm,” and 1 tap on is shoulder for “can I put my arm/elbow on your shoulder.” If he’s cool with it he’ll either nod or just say “yeah go ahead.” It works a lot quicker than asking “can I do such-and-such specific touch” every single time, and allows Anna to keep some of her spontaneity. They develop this during their friendship and it ends up rolling over into their relationship, even after Hiccup has basically told her she doesn’t need to ask permission for a lot of these anymore. She adds a new one after they start dating--she taps him a couple times wherever she wants to kiss him to ask if it’s cool to give him a smooch! It usually is.
~INFODUMPING. Literally SO. MUCH. INFODUMPING. Hiccup absolutely WILL NOT SHUT UP when he gets to talking about one of his special interests. Anna just will not shut up in general, but when the topic changes to one of her hyperfixations, it’s even worse. If you try to have a conversation with these two while they’re infodumping, you WILL get talked over. Honestly, left to their own devices, they could probably infodump to each other for literal days on end.
~Despite how much they both like to infodump, they’re both pretty good about being patient and indulging the other when it’s their partner’s turn to infodump in the conversation XD They are, however, notorious about accidentally triggering a barely-related infodump in the other person. It’s not uncommon for one of them to finish a rant and then the other goes “OH THAT REMINDS ME” and sets off on a completely different, barely-related rant.
~Hiccup actually really appreciates how overexpressive--and occasionally overdramatic--Anna tends to be. He never has to try and figure out what she’s thinking because she just says everything in her brain, and her body language basically always matches how she’s feeling to a ridiculous extent, so he never has to give himself a headache trying to read her. The fact that she’s the opposite of subtle and has no filter whatsoever works great for him, because he doesn’t have to drive himself insane trying to understand her. He gets her better than he gets most people because she’s an open goddamn book. The boy’s never been the best with social cues at all, never mind the nuanced, obscure ones, so Anna’s general straightforwardness and utter inability to hide her true feelings at literally any time is a breath of fresh air. What you see is basically what you get, and Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.
~People think when Anna and Hiccup start dating it’s gonna be a disaster, mainly because he’s so blunt and she can be...”oversensitive” (i.e. has a REALLY bad case of RSD). Turns out they’re dead wrong--because Hiccup has RSD too! (I mean, come ON--look how BADLY he wants to get his village’s approval! And how hard he takes it when his dad or someone else is mad at him--even if he tries to hide it with snark) He’s actually one of the few people who can be blunt enough with Anna that she realizes when she’s being a dumbass but tactful enough not to hurt her feelings or set off her RSD--because god, has he been there. When Anna is being especially difficult and has worked herself into a real bad funk, Hiccup (and sometimes Elsa) is the only people who can talk to her and get through to her without getting blown up at.
~They stim in similar ways!!! They both tend to fidget or kinda bounce up in down in place as a way to comfort themselves and calm themselves down (I see them both having a lot of anxiety and generally being kind of paranoid, although Anna is MUCH better at hiding this via putting on a cheerful face). They both do the leg bounce!!! Also if they get SUPER excited they’ll do a little awkward happy dance!!! They both also tend to stim by rubbing things in small, repetitive motions--with Hiccup, it’s usually his sketching pens, his ear, his head, or the back of his neck, while with Anna, it’s usually her other hand, her arm, her clothes, or really anything with kind of a comforting, consistent texture (some favorites are rubber, felt, and velvet). After they start dating, they actually will stim with each other’s hands while holding hands--usually by squeezing the other person’s hand in kind of a repetitive pattern or doing the thumb-rub thing on the back of the other person’s hand. It’s not uncommon for them to each be doing something completely unrelated while holding hands and just stimming on each other’s hands the entire time. Anna especially really loves when she feels Hiccup stimming on her, because it’s her little indicator that he’s happy and feels at peace and content in her presence and she LOVES being able to do that for him!
~They both stim by playing with hair too! Anna likes to play with her own to stim--mainly by figeting with the end of her braids or tucking hair behind her ear. She DOES love to ruffle Hiccup’s hair too (and she LOVES how fluffy it is!), but it’s usually not a stim thing. After they start dating, Anna does occasionally stim by massaging Hiccup’s hair/scalp, but she doesn’t usually do it for very long. Hiccup really loves braiding Anna’s hair, or just playing with it when it’s down. it helps him relax and clear his mind to have something fairly repetitive and/or mindless to do.
~Even after gaining some confidence, Hiccup still has a fair bit of social anxiety, so he and Anna basically always go to parties and social events together and stick with each other the whole time to make it less intimidating for him. Hiccup generally prefers to let Anna do the talking when they chat with people, and sometimes if he’s REALLY nervous he’ll sometimes even let her kinda talk for him (not in a condescending “speaking over” kinda way, but more in like a “I can sense you’re not comfortable speaking here so I’ll help you out as best I can” kinda way). She always makes sure to leave space in the conversation for him to take over talking if he wants. She’s also incredibly prone to bragging about his accomplishments to basically everyone they know. Hiccup is both embarrassed and flattered by this.
~When Anna finds out about meltdowns (probably through Hiccup mentioning it kind of offhandedly--“Eh, sorry I went AWOL last night, I was having a bit of a meltdown. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine now.”) she lowkey gets super anxious and frustrated because she REALLY wants to help, but has no idea how. Cue literal HOURS of research on the internet and AGGRESSIVE memorizing of any and all tips that she reads that she thinks would help. Which, of course, means several MORE hours spent going over flashcards like she’s studying for a goddamn test, because Anna has never been known for her sharp, expansive memory.
~The first time Hiccup ever has a meltdown in front of her (maybe after a really bad phone fight with his dad or something? Just general sensory overload?), she takes him to a secluded room and IMMEDIATELY gets rid of anything that could be agitating sensory-wise. She dims the lights! She closes the blinds! She throws a nearby clock, an alarm, a timer, and several other objects with only the slightest potential of making an annoying noise out of a nearby window in a fit of passion! She goes on a frenzied quest to find Hiccup’s noise-cancelling headphones--and finishes it in record time! Even in a state of emotional turmoil, Hiccup realizes that Anna’s being just a little too methodical in how she goes about all this--these are the kind of things that wouldn’t ever occur naturally to her to do. So as soon as he calms down a bit and has screamed into a pillow for a while, he’s like “...did you go on the internet to look up how to help with meltdowns?” and Anna’s like “...yes?” And Hiccup is lowkey so touched he starts crying all over again...and then, naturally, makes a long string of snarky comments to try and distract from it XD
~For their anniversary Anna saves up a bunch and buys Hiccup a lizard and a terrarium!!! She gets him a crocodile skink because, I quote, “Well, they always look annoyed, they’re kinda shy, they don’t like to be touched, and they look like tiny dragons, so they reminded me of you!!!” Hiccup screams like a goddamn fangirl, he’s SO excited. As luck would have it, Hiccup’s crocodile skink is a lot less skittish and prone to hiding than they usually are, and he actually lets Hiccup pick him up and pet him without much issue. Which is honestly great, because repeatedly touching something smooth and even like lizard scales helps calm Hiccup down when he’s agitated and helps with some of his sensory issues.
~Probably goes without saying, but Hiccup basically NEVER genuinely gives Anna a hard time about her memory problems or how she’s not always the quickest on the uptake, and if anyone tries to call her annoying, dumb, or immature he will absolutely roast them into oblivion. He does sometimes like...lightly tease her about jumping into things without thinking or never shutting up, but he never pushes it if he can tell she’s genuinely bothered by it (and, again, Anna is very easy to read, so it’s not hard to tell XD)
~I’ve seen other people in the fandom HC either Hiccup, Anna, or both of them as BOTH autistic and ADHD, and honestly...fuck yes!!! I’m down for this too! I love the idea of these two disaster ND kids just vibing with each other on so many damn levels that it’s like...incomprehensible to the average human XD Like man, they fuckin GET each other!!! I’m pretty happy with most combinations of ADHD + Autistic headcanons for Anna and Hiccup, so long as they end up vibing!!!
~THEY JUST. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. SO MUCH. THEY LITERALLY WOULD DIE FOR EACH OTHER. I AM SURE OF IT. I’M CRYING.
#hiccanna#hiccup x anna#anna x hiccup#hiccup#anna#hiccupxanna#annaxhiccup#autistic hiccup#adhd anna#headcanons#hcs#httyd#frozen#crossover#rotbtd#rotbtfd#hiccup haddock#princess anna
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skeletons in the bathroom
racetrack higgins x reader
summary: it’s spooky season, and is there anything scarier than having to confront and admit your feelings for one of your closest friends? (or, in which y/n is helping race get ready for a halloween party and desperately trying not to think about how much she wants to kiss him.)
a/n: i did it!! a halloween fic out for october 2020!! sorry it’s so late in the month, life has been very hectic with an overload of assignments and plenty of politics induced stress. anyway this is unedited so sorry in advance but i hope you like it :)
masterlist
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This had been such a bad idea. Why on earth had she agreed to this? What kind of astounding lack of brain cells had led to her saying yes to attending her own goddamn funeral?
"Albert, you would leave flowers at my grave, wouldn't you?" She turned to look at him just in time to see him roll his eyes. Jojo and Finch, sitting across from them at their table in the library, both stared at her with equally confused and amused expressions.
"Y/N if you tell me you're gonna die one more time, I'll literally kill you myself." Albert fixed her with a halfhearted glare, brushing his hair out of his face. She groaned and dropped her head down on top of her arms, resting lazily in the tabletop. Jojo laughed quietly at her, but she didn't have the heart to give him a death stare in return.
"Out of curiosity," Finch started, effectively abandoning his work, "what kind of flowers would you want?" She lifted her head, pursing her lips in concentration as she thought the question over.
"I don't know, either something really pretty or something ridiculously dramatic." Albert sighed beside her, finally putting his pencil down. Jojo had stopped actually trying to get work done a half hour prior. "Like, some pretty marigolds or daisies would be cool, ya know? But, also, a single red rose would have a very nice effect." Jojo nodded along with her.
"What about black dahlias?" He asked. Y/N perked up at that.
"Oh, yes! Definitely achieving that she-was-probably-murdered-and-the-killer-is-leaving-flowers vibe." She high fived Jojo while Finch shook his head at them. Albert hit her from her right side—lightly, but she let out a loud "ow!" anyway.
"Can you stop moping and acting like you're gonna die? You're the one who got yourself into this mess." She went back to being miserable immediately, groaning again for effect.
"Will someone please explain why she's dying?" Finch asked, directed more at the other two boys than at Y/N. Albert rolled his eyes again.
"Race asked her to do his makeup for his skeleton costume before the party tonight and she said yes, but now she thinks she's gonna die when she does it." He punctuated his words with a pointed look at her which effectively communicated all of his exasperation as well as the sentiment he had been expressing to her for almost two years, that she should just go for it and ask Race out. She ignored it completely.
"I am going to die!" She threw her hands in the air for dramatic effect, giving Finch and Jojo her best 'I'm in despair' look. "I'm gonna have to be ridiculously close to his face—and his lips—for way too long! I'm gonna either go insane and launch myself out the fucking window or die of embarrassment."
All three boys laughed at her. Insulted, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted at them.
"Y/N, it'll be fine," Finch said, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. "Anyway, why can't you just ask him out already and not have to deal with the funeral arrangements?" She offered him her best deadpan stare.
"C'mon, Y/N," Jojo chimed in. "What's the worst that can happen?"
"Oh no, don't get her started," Albert groaned.
"The worst that could happen? Are you kidding?" She looked at them incredulously. "Well, for starters, I could tell him I like him and then he could be disgusted because why would he ever like me back when he's him and I'm me, and then, because he was your friend first and things are super awkward between me and him, we drift apart, and then I lose all of my friends and I die alone with no one to leave black dahlias on my grave in order to entertain my dramatics." Finch blinked, staring at her with wide eyes as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard.
"Hold on," Jojo spoke up again, face contorted with anger. "He would not be disgusted. Even if he didn't like you back, which he does—"
"Does not," she grumbled.
"Does too," they all answered in unison.
"He wouldn't be mean about it," Jojo continued.
"And we wouldn't stop being your friends," Albert added.
"Plus, even if we suddenly become arch enemies I'm totally still leaving black dahlias on your grave for dramatics," Finch grinned, winking at her. That got her to laugh a little, smiling back at him.
"I just..." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I don't want to ruin anything, and I don't want everything to change between us. I'm fine being his friend, that's enough for me. It's just hard to keep my feelings in check when he gets too close to me." Her eyebrows furrowed while she fidgeted with her fingers, not liking how vulnerable she felt while telling all of them that. Albert's arm slid around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. It was awkward and
uncomfortable leaning across the gap between their chairs, but she enjoyed the comfort anyway.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said gently. "You have our support either way." Jojo and Finch nodded, both smiling encouragingly at her. She smiled back at them, moving to gather up all of her papers. The boys followed suit, shoving everything back in their backpacks.
"Thank you," she said quietly just as they were all pushing their chairs in.
"Anytime," Albert grinned brightly, throwing his arm around her again and leading them out of the building. A wind blew as they walked out into the October sun, sending a chill through her body and causing her to lean into Albert's body for warmth. They all started walking in the direction of their on-campus apartments, pointing out the most colorful trees and joking about the upcoming party with easy smiles.
"Speak of the devil," Jojo muttered from behind her. She went to turn back to look at him and ask what he meant, but Albert pulled her more securely against him and she laughed.
"Hey guys!" Finch called out, waving wildly. She looked in the direction he was facing and saw Race walking in the opposite direction with Romeo across the street from them. She felt heat rush to her face automatically, lifting her hand in a small wave while sporting a shy smile. Albert and Jojo waved enthusiastically with Finch, receiving an equally energetic wave from Romeo and a small wave from Race. Y/N tilted her head in confusion, frowning. Race never missed the chance to make an ordeal out something as small as seeing his friends across the street, was something wrong? No one else seemed concerned, though, and their small group kept moving. If anything, Finch and Jojo seemed amused, snickering quietly behind her and Albert.
They parted to go to their respective apartments, all three boys giving Y/N a hug goodbye. She took full advantage of their attempts at comfort, holding them tightly and burying her head in their chests. Once she was back in her apartment, her roommates thankfully back home for the weekend, she dropped her bag on the floor and took a deep breath. Race was set to come over a little while later to get ready for the party, that left her some time to clean up a little. He wouldn't care if the apartment was dirty, but she couldn't get rid of the urge to make sure the counters were decluttered and the bathroom where she would be doing his makeup smelled nice. Plus, at least it would give her something to do to distract herself from her ever growing anxiety.
She was definitely going to die.
__________
Race was ten minutes late, but Y/N had already figured he would be when his "omw" text didn't come until a minute after he was supposed to be at her apartment. He grinned at her when she opened the door, arms (adorably) holding the straps of his backpack that she assumed was carrying his costume.
"I wasn't sure if you would want me to put on the costume before or after the makeup," he said as he walked in. "So I just brought it to change into." She liked the way he looked so comfortable in her apartment, facing her casually with his hair messy from the wind. She smiled softly at him, unable to contain her ever present joy at seeing him.
"Before, definitely. If you put it on after you might mess your face up." He nodded, already shrugging his bag off his shoulder.
"Your room okay?" He asked, gesturing in the direction of her bedroom.
"'Course. Just don't mess with anything in there." She playfully pointed a finger at his chest and he laughed as he moved into her room and closed the door behind him. She walked into the bathroom, taking deep breaths and trying to tell herself everything would be okay. Her and Race were friends, and she was perfectly capable of helping him with his Halloween makeup like a normal person. Maybe. Hopefully. Kinda. Probably not. God, she was hopeless.
He found her in the bathroom obsessively reorganizing the makeup, dressed in his full skeleton getup. She smiled when she saw him in it, happy that he hadn't picked something with a good that would have concealed his beautiful curls. With his lanky stature and gangly limbs, the costume worked perfectly for him. He grinned back at her, doing a little shimmy that made her laugh.
"You like?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she shook her head in a amusement.
"It looks good," she confirmed, their usual joking banter hindered by her nerves. "We should get started so we have enough time, I still need to get changed and finish my makeup, too." She patted the bathroom counter and he followed her hand, hoisting himself up so he was sitting on the counter facing her, swinging his legs.
She tried not to think too hard as she started on his face, going in with a layer of white before anything else. She could feel his breath on her wrist, but she tried not to think about it. Thinking about it meant her own breath would hitch and then, because their faces were so close, he would notice. She brought a hand up to his jaw to steady his face and resolutely did not think about how easy it would be to pull him to her and kiss him.
Part of her wanted to listen to the boys. She wanted to say fuck it and tell him how she felt about him. She wanted to flirt with him while she had him at her mercy like this, wanted to lean in and put a hand on his thigh for balance just to see how he would react. She wanted to know if his breathing would change, if his heart would skip a beat, if he would look at her with wide eyes or if he would simply smirk and carry on. Or maybe he wouldn't do anything, because it would nothing but a meaningless gesture to him. But, god, she wanted to try. And she wanted to kiss him so badly.
Still, the other part of her triumphed. The part that told her he didn't feel the same way about her, that to him she was just a good friend and if she went and did something stupid she would ruin that.
She asked him to close his eyes and he did so obediently. She took the chance to look at his lips while he wouldn't be able to notice, realizing how quiet he'd been the whole time so far. Once his face was fully covered with white he opened his eyes and she took a small break, giving herself some time to calm down her erratic heart beat. He kicked his legs out again without her standing in front of him to block them.
"So," he started, staring down at his feet instead of looking at her. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to continue. "You and Albert, huh?" Her eyebrows furrowed and she stopped short as she went to grab a brush, paused in confusion. "What's going on there?"
"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to laugh to diffuse whatever tension had just overtaken the room but only managing a nervous chuckle.
"You two looked pretty cozy earlier, outside. Do I gotta start preparing myself for you to be acting all gross and couple-y whenever we go out now?" His voice sounded strained, like he was trying to force the question to be casual. She figured it was because he was upset Albert and her wouldn't tell him something like—which, they totally would if that was at all a possibility. Which it wasn't. The whole idea was so ridiculous a strangled laugh bubbled out of her throat.
"Oh, god no. There is nothing romantic happening between me and Albert." She looked down at her hands, avoiding having to look at his face. "No, it was just cold, you know? And he was trying to comfort me because I was upset." Suddenly he was there, standing in front of her. He gently tilted her chin up to look at him and used his other hand to grab hers.
"Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
She was going to cry. She was going to burst into tears, standing in her own bathroom with Race's touch overwhelming her senses. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome and funny and kind and loving. It wasn't fair that whenever he looked at her she felt like no one else existed. It wasn't fair that she couldn't breathe with his hand still resting just under her chin. And the universe was just playing dirty having him call her babe like it was nothing, like it didn't make her heart swell in her chest. Like it didn't absolutely break her. She was definitely gonna cry, her eyes already watery.
His concern only seemed to increase when he saw the distraught look on her face. He tried to take another step toward her but she moved backward, detaching herself from his hands. She breathed deeply, running her hands through her hair as she tried to keep herself from sobbing. He looked so worried—so sad—and it just wasn't fair.
"I'm—" Her words got caught on the lump in her throat. "It's nothing, really. I'm just being dumb." He looked at her disbelievingly.
"Y/N c'mon, you're clearly upset, let me—" He cut himself off at the way she back away from him again while he reached out, hurt flashing across his face. "Here, why don't we just skip out on the party? I'll stay here with you and we can watch old Disney Halloween movies or something." She wanted that so bad, she wanted that more than anything she had ever wanted. But she couldn't, it would only hurt her more.
"No," she sniffled, regaining her composure. "No, you should go. I might stay back, I dunno. But I don't wanna keep you from having fun."
"Hey." His voice was soft, the corners of his lips turning upwards just slightly. He was so beautiful she could have died over it. "I always have fun with you, party or not. If you don't go, I don't go."
"God, Race. You can't just—you can't say things like that." She huffed while he blanched in confusion. "It's not fair."
"What? I don't—"
"Listen, I'll finish your makeup, yeah? And then we'll go to the party and we can pretend like this never happened. Okay?" He nodded mutely, slowly positioning himself back on the counter. The concern wasn't gone from his eyes and his mouth was set in a frown, but he complied.
Not crying was a constant effort the entire time she finished his skeleton makeup. She felt her lip quiver at more than one point and Race's eyes kept darting down toward it. She did her best to keep it steady, not wanting him to see her cry. He had seen her cry before, of course, over classes and movies and the like, but there was a special kind of shame associated with him seeing her cry over him.
It wasn't until after she was done that he spoke up again. "Do you not want to be alone with me?" He asked it so quietly she was sure it must not have come from him, used to his loud, boisterous voice. Her heart broke all over again.
"That's not it, Race. You know that, right? It's not your fault I'm upset." It wasn't, really. If she was going to blame anyone it would all be on herself.
"What, then?" The joking tone was back in his voice, clearly trying to diffuse the tension and brighten the mood. "Too afraid you won't be able to control yourself around me?" Yes. "I know you'd love to jump these bones." She laughed despite herself, playfully hitting his arm. Her reaction made him smile again, and she was glad. He always knew how to cheer her up.
It only took a little while longer for her to change into her costume (just a regular witch in shades of black and purple) and put on her makeup. Race watched her as she put on her dark lipstick, making her nervous and subsequently causing her hands to shake, but she made it through alright.
They left just a bit before the party was supposed to start, Y/N shivering in the cold air as they walked. Race glanced at her a few times, seemingly conflicted, before cautiously wrapping an arm around her. She leaned into his touch and he gripped shoulder more firmly, pulling her into his side. When they stopped to let a car go by she turned to him and wrapped both her arms around him, basking in his warmth. Race was like a heater, generating warmth from the day she met him. He returned her embrace, rubbing her back soothingly.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He mumbled into her ear. A shiver went down her spine at his voice so close to her ear, but she nodded, holding him tighter. They were later to the party then they should've been, having spent a good amount of time in that embrace. It had made her heart all fluttery, not to mention the way it did somersaults every time Race looked at her for the rest of the walk (which was a lot, he must have been really worried).
She expected him to split off once they entered, going to look for some of his other friends, but he stuck by her side. It made her smile, the butterflies in her stomach going wild. They went to grab drinks together and ran into Finch.
"Hey!" He smiled dopily, clearly a little tipsy already. "The makeup looks great," he gestured at Race's face. "And you two look so cute together." Heat rushed to Y/N's face as she quickly took a sip of her drink in order to avoid having to respond. Race simply laughed.
"Yeah, Y/N did an awesome job, right? I knew she would, though. I could feel it in my bones." Y/N groaned and Finch cringed.
"That was awful, dude." Race grinned proudly anyway, waving as Finch left to go back to the friends he was with.
"Did you pick this costume just so you could make bad jokes?" Y/N turned to face Race, raising an eyebrow. He winked, which was all the answer she needed. She wanted to give some sort of sarcastic remark in return, but the wink made her giggle nervously. He seemed content with her response all the same.
About three thousand skeleton jokes later (he had literally greeted Davey by saying "bonejour." Davey had promptly turned around and left the two of them without saying a word), Y/N and Race were sat on the couch together, chatting amicably. She felt better with a bit of alcohol in her veins and a few buckets of false hope from the fact that Race hadn't tried to leave her side once the whole time they'd been there.
"You're such an idiot," she laughed uncontrollably as he relayed a story about him following a squirrel across campus the week prior.
"What can I say?" He grinned cheekily. Her smile dropped.
"Don't you dare—"
"I'm a bonehead." He knocked on his head for good measure.
"Okay that's it, I'm leaving." She moved as if to get up before Race reached out to grab her arm.
"Y/N, no!" He managed to get out through his laughter. "Don't leave me bonely!" She stared at him in disbelief.
"You're the worst," she groaned as she let him pull her back into her seat next to him.
"But you love me anyway." He poked her side and she looked at his face. The makeup looked good, she had to admit, but she wished it had been able to mask his face better. Because looking at his face was still looking at his face, makeup or no makeup, and she had a bad habit of getting caught up in looking at his face. His features seemed to tense, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly. "Drinks!" He said suddenly, breaking their staring contest and practically jumping out of his seat. "I'm gonna go get us more drinks." She nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she watched him scurry off. That had certainly been strange.
"Fancy seeing you here." She turned to see Albert falling into Race's spot beside her, grinning around his own drink.
"Hey," she smiled, adjusting her witch hat.
"You and lover boy work things out yet?" She punched his arm and he gaped at her.
"Shut up," she hissed. "It's not gonna happen, let it go." He rolled his eyes.
"You sure? Because, from what I've seen, he hasn't stopped staring at you all night." She glared at the redhead, pouting.
"Stop giving me hope, asshole. It just makes this worse."
"Makes what worse?" She looked up to find Race standing in front of them, two drinks in hand. She took one from him with a smile.
"Nothing," she shook her head. "Albert's just being annoying."
"Isn't he always?" Race asked with a smirk the same time that Albert said "hey!" Deciding this would be her best chance at payback for teasing her about her crush on Race, she pushed Albert off the couch. Race laughed loudly, stepping over his friend to return to his seat. She smiled brightly at him and he grinned back, bumping her shoulder with his. She had to take a drink to stop the flustered laughter from escaping her throat.
"You two suck," Albert groaned from their feet. It only made them laugh more, still giggling even as Albert stood up grumpily and walked away without saying goodbye.
"Your costume looks really good, by the way." She turned to Race, her smile faltering. "I didn't tell you earlier, but I like it." He said it so earnestly, looking right into her eyes. The only thing she could think of was hoping the boys were ready with those black dahlias, because she was a total goner.
"Thank you," she said softly, lost in his gaze. She thought about them in the bathroom, how she had wanted to put her hand on his thigh just to see how he would react. Thinking of what Albert had said and taking another gulp of her drink, she did just that. She leaned forward and put her hand on his thigh to steady herself. He froze. It was hard to tell over the noise of the party, but she thought she might have heard his breath hitch. She couldn't look away from him, her eyes once again finding his lips.
"You spent so long on this makeup," he muttered. "And it looks really cool." She tilted her head in confusion.
"Huh?"
"I really don't wanna ruin it. I'm sorry."
"Why would you—"
But then he kissed her, so no question she could have asked mattered anyway. He was kissing her. Oh, Albert was gonna laugh so hard when he heard about this.
She kissed him back fervently, one of her hands tangling in the curls at the back of his head while the other remained on his thigh to keep herself steady. One of his hands rested lightly on her waist, squeezing just slightly, while the other caressed her jaw. It felt like in the bathroom earlier that night when he had tilted her chin to look at him, but so much better.
He pulled back before she was ready, eyes still closed as she unconsciously chased his lips. She opened her eyes to see his makeup smudged and definitely some her lipstick on his lips, a warm feeling settling in her chest. But his mouth was pulled into a frown and it sobered her quickly. He was pulling at his hair, his eyes wide with panic and sorrow.
"I'm sorry," he panted. "You're upset, I shouldn't have done that. I've been trying to cheer you up and now I've, like, totally taken advantage of you when you're vulnerable and—"
"Race." He looked at her, face practically begging for forgiveness. She reached for his hands with a small smile. "You're not taking advantage of me. I was only upset because I thought I didn't have a chance with you." She shrugged slightly, averting her eyes. He gaped at her.
"You didn't have a chance with me? Are you kidding?" He tightened his grip on her hands, pulling himself closer to her. "Y/N, I've been pining after you since, like, the day we met. You're ridiculously out of my league." She looked at him with wide eyes, meeting his gaze. They both broke out into grins at the same time before she was leaning in again and he was following.
He tasted like candy and alcohol and she couldn't have asked for anything better. They slid closer to each other on the couch until her hands were clasped together behind his neck, playing with his curls, and his were holding her waist. She couldn't get enough of him. She didn't think she would ever get enough of him. They were both breathing heavily when they pulled away again, foreheads resting against each other.
"You know," Y/N breathed. "If that whole 'just the two of us spending the night at my apartment and watching old halloween movies' offer is still on the table...." He laughed quietly, his head falling to the crook in her neck.
"Definitely still on the table." He pressed a light kiss to her neck and she was dragging him into a standing position immediately, fully ready to get away from all the other partygoers. She wouldn't be able to handle it if his hands wandered any further than they had already gone, she needed time to breathe and process—preferably away from the crowd.
He held her hand and lead her through the sea of people to the front door. Jojo caught sight of them as they made their way out and, presumably seeing their joint hands and messed up makeup, whooped at them. Y/N laughed and Race stuck his tongue out at his friend.
"Which movie do you wanna watch first?" She asked as they walked back, holding onto his arm and leaning into his side.
"Oh, definitely Halloweentown." She smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. He chuckled when they pulled apart. "You know, I would say a skeleton pun right now, but I don't have the guts to ruin this moment."
"Oh my god, Race."
__________
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#racetrack higgins x reader#racetrack higgins#newsies#newsies imagine#race x reader#newsies x reader#race higgins#finch#jojo de la guerra#albert dasilva#happy halloween :)#as always come tell me what you think!!#racetrack x reader#bambi can kinda write
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Lilies of the Valley V
A/B/O!BTS x Reader
Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.
"White is usually associated with purity and heaven. Fresh and crisp, white lilies also represent purity and modesty"
Release Date: 06/01/20 @ 8:40 pm
previous ~ next
YN felt she was floating, her mind was floating, in and out of consciousness as she fought to gain control over herself but couldn't. She parted her lips to speak, only wails and moans came out instead of words. YN tried again - harder this time - but the same thing happened. She called out for someone, anyone, to hear her but her voice was beginning to fail her. Her body was shaking. No, not her body. Her bones were shaking. YN felt cold, incredibly cold, she tried to cover herself with the comforter but that only made her more uncomfortable. She thrashed and turned trying to get the blanket off, but it wouldn't budge. That only made her cry more. Eventually, she was so exhausted, she fell asleep.
“Shh. It’s okay. We’re here.”
"Help me lift her, so we can change the sheets."
“She needs a bath too.”
No! No bath. Don’t move me. YN tried to talk to them, whoever they were, but they wouldn't listen. Her ramblings were incoherent at best, but in her mind, they made perfect sense. YN cried and complained, she was in pain, everything hurt and they were only making it worse. "Shh. Don't worry it'll be over soon." Something brushed against her cheek and for the briefest of moments, she felt calm but then the pain and discomfort only worsened. The fever was wrecking through her body and there was little anyone could do to stop it. "Hurry up!" It was too loud, it hurt her ears. When she felt the cool of the bathwater, she lost consciousness again.
There was a crash, a loud one, and a cacophony of yells. Someone was getting closer to her, she could feel it but as much as she wanted to open her eyes they wouldn’t. Her nose was beginning to itch, their scent was too strong. It hurt. YN moaned again and tried to move away, but whoever it was had her locked in their grip. That only made things worse. Cramps began to pass all over her body causing the omega to spasm uncontrollably. They didn’t notice, too busy trying to pry the alpha off her to notice the pain she was in. Only once they had him under control did they notice the fever had returned and she was in a worse state than before.
“Get him out of here!”
“All of you leave! Now!”
The warmth was gone and the room was cool again. Something cold yet soft was trailed throughout her whole body. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll make it better.”
When YN awoke it was to the sweet scent of raspberries and sugar. She leaned into the scent, wanting to drink more and more of it in. Only when she heard soft giggles and a sigh, did YN finally pry her eyes open. It stung at first all the clarity in the room, but after a couple of seconds, she became adjusted to it. YN felt depleted in every sense of the word but didn't yet know why. Her body ached, the way it might after a strenuous workout and her mind felt numb. It was when her outstretched arms touched skin that YN turned to the side, surprised to see Rosé of all people in her room.
“Ro!” YN jumped up and embraced her friend. Having felt like it’d been years since they had last seen each other.
Rosé hugged her back, but her grip wasn’t as tight and her eyes were filled with concern. “I’m so glad you’re okay YN. You had everyone so worried.”
YN was taken aback, “What do you mean?” YN pulled away and looked into Rosé’s face trying to decipher what she meant.
Rosé herself looked only more puzzled by YN’s words. “YN,” she spoke carefully as if explaining to a child, “You were in heat.”
“That’s ridiculous my heat isn’t for a couple more days. I’ve been taking the suppressants.”
"YN, you were in heat. It's been almost a week and it was only this morning that you broke the fever." That didn't make any sense. How had it been a week? The last thing YN knew had been taking her suppressants and heading to bed. Had they not worked? But they'd worked fine for years. Even if it was a faulty batch, her heat wasn't supposed to occur so suddenly. YN didn't know what to say.
“I’ve never heard of heats lasting that long or being that intense. They're only supposed to last a day or two max. Is that normal for you?” Rosé was wracking her head trying to find an explanation all the while YN sat silent. If I had my heat then that means… “And your mates were so worried. They kept asking me if this was a normal thing, but I didn’t know how to answer. Everyone was so scared YN.” That caught her attention, YN vaguely recalled people around her but she assumed that was a dream. “Did you take care of me, Ro?” The girl shook her head, “I was only allowed to see you today once they were sure your heat was over.”
“What? Why?!” YN’s anxiety was beginning to rise.
"It's normal. Mates get protective during heats, plus it wouldn't have been safe for another omega to be around. Could've triggered my heat and then we'd be screwed." This had quelled her fears, if only momentarily, casting a glance around the room YN noticed it was a wreck. Her bathroom door was thrown open and YN could see wet spots on the carpet and floor. Not to mention the basket was overbrimming with dirty clothes and sheets. Her memory of the events was fuzzy, it felt like she had just woken up from a long sleep. "Why are the doors gone?"
Rosé whipped her head to see where YN was staring, then she smiled apologetically. "Um, apparently you triggered your alphas ruts. They're locked away in the mansion riding it out." So it had been the others who had taken care of her, which put her more at ease. "Where are they?" YN couldn't see anyone standing outside and her nose felt plugged, not allowing her to sense them. "They said they were going to get cleaned up. I'm sure they'll be back soon. They can't stand to be away from you for too long." YN was thankful that there were betas in the group. Though she couldn't see a pack of all alpha's getting along.
“I’m sorry Ro. Sorry for scaring you.”
"You don't have to apologize to me. I know how it is. I would talk to them about it though so that all of you can be prepared next time." Right, next time.
“Don’t worry. This won’t happen again. I probably just got a bad batch.” YN was certain this wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t allow it to.
"Yeah, but haven't you had them for a while. It's strange to get a reaction now. How'd your last heat go?" YN didn't know how to answer that question. Well, she did, but she knew the second Rosé found out the truth it would all be over. "What do you mean?" YN feigned innocence. Rosé tilted her head in confusion, "You know...how long was your last heat? I'm certain it wasn't this long. I don't remember you taking time off." Fuck. The longer she stayed quiet the more concerned Rosé became. “If this keeps happening you have to go see a doctor. It isn’t normal and can be a sign that something is up.”
YN waved her off, “I’m sure everything is fine. My last heat only lasted three days.”
“Okay, but when was your last heat?” Rosé had finally landed on the jackpot question. YN’s reluctance to answer only caused her friend to press her more. “I mean I don’t recall you ever getting like this.”
YN sighed, running a hand through her hair only to find it was greasy and long overdue for a wash. “I haven’t had a heat since I presented Rose.” Her friend remained frozen in shock until YN’s words finally dawned on her. “Are you insane?! Why haven’t you said anything?! That isn’t normal YN! Something is obviously very wrong.”
“I know it isn’t normal Rosé, but nothing is wrong. I’ve just been using the suppressants.”
“But they aren’t meant to be used like that. They’re only supposed to control side effects, not fully take away your heat. No wonder you were in heat for so long. Do you realize how reckless you’ve been?! You could’ve died!”
YN rolled her eyes, "You're being ridiculous Ro. I wouldn't have died." Rosé had always been an overthinker and someone of frail health so it made sense to YN that she would react like this. This is partly the reason YN had refrained from telling her friend, the other reason is it was illegal.
“Your mates told me you reached 41 degrees.” Oh. "Your body shut down and went into survival mode. They were afraid to take you to the hospital because they knew it might worsen your heat." YN had heard of intense heats causing fevers and cramps, but never to that extent. Perhaps, she had gone a bit overboard with the suppressants and her body needed a release.
"I'm sorry Ro. I really am. You're right I was being stupid, but I was scared. I didn't know how to deal with heats and the first time I experienced one I -" She had been about to tell Rosé everything. Confess the truth, but that would only shatter Rosé's perception of YN. Rosé would accuse her of lying and want to end their friendship, she couldn't risk her reputation by being associated with someone like YN. "- I was scared. That's why I did it."
“Oh YN.” Rosé pulled her into a tight hug and YN almost wept at the thought of losing her best friend. The person she truly had left. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Just promise you won’t do it again.” YN nodded, burying her head into Rosé’s neck unsure of whether she was being honest or not. She hoped she was.
“I’m happy to see you’re feeling better.” True to Rosé’s words the men had returned in ten minutes exactly. Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung looked clean and brand new but YN noticed the weary expressions on their faces and the bags under their eyes. Yoongi smiled and went to sit on her bed, the others entered slowly too. Their movements seemed calculated as if they were careful not to scare her.
“I am, thank you. I’m sorry about the trouble I’ve caused.” She did feel bad and can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.
“It’s no problem. You’re our mate, it’s our responsibility to care for you.” Jimin stated, eyes warm as he leaned against the wall nearest where the doors used to be.
Rosé had remained quiet and by your side, but sensing something in the air she excused herself. “I’ll be going now. Sorry for any trouble I caused.” Yoongi shook his head, “You were nothing but help.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss against your cheek and said goodbye. “Get well soon.” She waved, before leaving for good.
Once YN was sure she was gone, she turned her attention back towards the men. "Thank you for letting her come. I know it must've been difficult." Taehyung rolled his eyes, "Please if we hadn't she probably would've called protective services on us." Despite his words, his tone was light not meant to be taken seriously. YN simply nodded, unsure of what to say or where the conversation would go. It was Jimin who took the initiative, "You really scared us. Are your heats normally like that?" YN shook her head, "No. I don't know what happened this time. I think I had a faulty batch or something." It still didn't make sense to her.
"You should stop taking those things. They aren't good in the long term, plus we can always use alternatives." YN didn't know how she felt about that but figured it was better to go along with whatever they said then to start a fight. "Plus," Taehyung added, "You should let us know when your preheat rolls around. That way we can plan." At this YN did oppose, “Namjoon knew though. I thought he would tell you all.” Jimin sighed, “You can’t trust alphas with that kind of information. I’m sure he did mean to tell us, but it happened so suddenly.”
YN suddenly wondered exactly where all the alphas were and what rolled they played during their heat. "Where exactly are the others?" The betas exchanged a look. "They're in Namjoon's room. It's been so long since we all experienced a heat, so it kind of triggered their ruts." Yoongi explained, looking a bit frazzled with everything. "And the door?" They all visibly tensed, Taehyung stood up from the wall to walk towards the opposite side of the bed. "That was them. Lost a bit of control when you began to call out for us, but thankfully Yoongi managed to make them snap out of it long enough to get them out." Taehyung then laid down on the bed, causing YN to have to move for there to be enough space for the two of them.
"Don't worry. We'll install new doors by tonight." Yoongi said as he looked disapprovingly at Taehyung.
YN took a deep breath, steadying herself, and trying to prepare for what she was about to ask. "How did you take care of me?"
Her question disoriented the betas. "What do you mean?" Jimin asked, coming to rest on the bed near YN's legs. "We changed your sheets, clothes, and bathed you sometimes. We also tried fever medicine, but you puked that up." The men had taken care of her, but that wasn't what she had meant. "No, I know but I mean did you take care of me?"
The men’s expressions morphed suddenly, their faces becoming stoic. YN didn’t know whether they were upset or not. “No. We didn’t.” Yoongi spoke through clenched teeth. “You were barely conscious.” It hadn’t been what she expected. Perhaps that is why it had lasted so long, they had refrained from aiding her.
“Oh. I just thought -”
“Frankly, I don’t appreciate the accusation.” Taehyung’s voice had dropped at least two octaves lower. Even Jimin seemed to be gripping the bedding tightly.
YN shook her head, raising her hands up. “That wasn’t what I meant. I was simply asking, but thank you. For respecting me.” It was a lot more than others would do in that situation. Especially with a partial bond established.
"YN," Jimin called her name, forcing her to look at him. "You are our mate. Don't forget it and don't ever suggest something like that again."
It seems they were trying to keep their hormones under control, for her sake, but YN could feel the anger radiating off them even in her weakened state. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Not knowing what else to do, YN reached out to touch Jimin and Taehyung’s hands while smiling at Yoongi. After a while, the tension dissipated and all of them were smiling. Each for a different reason, however. YN because she had managed to deescalate a potentially dangerous situation and the men because for the first time since knowing each other YN hadn’t denied being their mate.
New doors had been installed, though these featured a combination lock the other ones didn't. 'For privacy' YN had been told and though she suspected that was not the only reason, she was at least thankful for it. She was also grateful that her tattoo wasn't ruined because of her heat as that would result in a whole other fiasco. The others had most likely noticed it - difficult to miss it was but hadn't seemed to care. Overall, YN was feeling a lot better and though Yoongi had insisted she rest, YN found that difficult to do. She had showered and applied lotion onto her tattoo before dressing and deciding to explore the grounds. Even though YN longed to go out with everyone else locked in the house, she decided that might not be the best idea.
As beautiful as the day was it had a draft which had her skipping over the swimming pool. The patio area was pleasant but seemed typical as did the outdoor kitchen. YN walked to where both side entrances were, eyeing the cameras observing her, but found them to be locked. In the end, YN settled on dragging out the large rug in the middle of her room outside to lay near the lilies. The garden was beautiful, reminding her of a simpler time. She watched as the gentle breeze caused the flowers to sway from side to side. With the sun partly hidden behind clouds, YN was warm but not uncomfortably so. The sound of nature around her was like a sweet lullaby which caused her eyelids to hang heavy after a while.
This is so nice. Once she closed her eyes, her other senses heightened causing her nose to pick up on the soft smell of cotton. It smelled like a mix of eucalyptus and cotton, fresh and relaxing. "Mm. Smells nice." A soft chuckle reached her ears, YN opened her eyes to see Seokjin standing a few feet away from her. Though her primary reaction was to cower away, once she noticed his clean attire and the slouch in his usually straight spine YN quelled her fears away. "Sorry," Seokjin said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." YN shook her head, she knew what she should do next: stand up, excuse herself, and walk away. But she was so comfortable on the grass and despite what she'd been warned the alpha in front of her didn't seem like he was in a rut. Didn't smell like it either. "I'm glad you're feeling better. We were all worried." Seokjin seemed awkward standing around, but YN didn't make a move to invite him nor did she dismiss him entirely.
"Thank you for taking care of me." The smile on her face was genuine even if her words weren't the entire truth. Seokjin nodded but refrained from saying anything else. After a couple of tense seconds where both of them stared at each other expectantly, YN relented. Gesturing over to the carpet before shifting over. Seokjin took the same position as her, laying down staring up at the sky. "You're peaceful when you sleep." He commented, catching YN off guard.
“As opposed to?” She joked trying to lighten the mood.
“You were restless last week. Barely slept and even then when you did sleep, we were afraid you weren’t going to wake up again.” He spoke earnestly, tone hushed yet somber.
"Oh," YN didn't know it had been that bad. She trusted Rosé but knew the omega was a worrier. Seeing the frown nestled between her brows, Seokjin reached over and smoothed the area. YN's eyes widening at his actions. "Don't worry. It wasn't that bad, we just were unprepared." Instead of removing his hand, the alpha trailed towards her cheek, cupping it gently. YN angeled her body so that she was facing him better, "The others told me about what happened. Did I really trigger your rut?" YN knew an alpha's ruts could be just as intense and painful as omegas. YN would never purposely want to inflict that loss of control on someone. No matter who they were.
Seokjin smiled gently, “Don’t worry. It was only really Namjoon and Hoseok who you triggered. Jungkook and I already had our ruts but we decided to help the others, plus we didn’t want to risk it.” YN had assumed that the younger alpha in his lust-filled rage had been the one to tear down the door, or they all did. Never could she imagine Jungkook aiding the betas. “Then what happened to the door?”
“Ah,” Seokjin laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “A fight broke out between us about whether we should take you to a hospital or not. Some of us got a bit territorial, things escalated and well… combine that with our ruts and we felt you weren’t safe so we wanted to take you into the house.”
“To nest?”
"Kinda. Jimin argued that you would feel uncomfortable if you woke up and were in a bed with all of us, so a fight broke out." A fight between mates? That YN had never heard of. She expressed said thoughts to Seokjin who only shrugged in response, "We're only human. Most of the time we agree on how to care for our mates, but each of us has different coping mechanisms and we were unprepared."
YN didn't know why but she felt at ease around Seokjin, maybe because the alpha had never not been respectable and aware of her boundaries. Perhaps because he seemed like the only one who didn't place the pack bond above all or even acted like the stereotypical alpha. She felt they could be friends. That was a lot more than she felt for most of the residents in the house. Still, as the day went on and the sun began to set, the two of them remained on the carpet. Basking in the beauty of the day and each other's presence, though none would admit to it. It wasn't until the last sliver of sunlight remained, that their eyes met once more and YN found herself inkling to know him better. Most surprisingly of all, YN wanted to kiss him.
#yandere bts#yandere bts ot7#yandere bts x reader#yandere kim namjoon#yandere kim namjoon x reader#yandere kim seokjin#yandere kim seokjin x reader#yandere min yoongi#yandere Min Yoongi x reader#yandere jung hoseok#yandere jung hoseok x reader#yandere park jimin#yandere park jimin x reader#yandere kim taehyung#yandere kim taehyung x reader#Yandere jeon jungkook#yandere jeon jungkook x reader#bts au#bts fanfic#yandere kpop#abo bts#abo au#bangtanarmynet#lilies of the valley#lilies of the valley V#lov V#lov#girlmeetsliv3
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I DON’T CARE if this doesn’t get any notes. I need to vent.
My name is Agustina, I’m 27 years old. I’m a nonbinary, queer, latinx person, parent of a 4 year old, non-verbal authistic child. I suffer from depression and anxiety.
I’m 9 thousand kilometers away from the woman I love.
I’m not a victim. I am a minority. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
I started watching Supernatural in 2015, you know, being a stay-at-home parent, who dropped her career and her job to live the first years of their child, there wasn’t much I could do in my free time but to watch a show. I caught a few episodes of season 11 on tv and then I decided to start from zero. I always acknowledged how problematic it was in terms of representation, but always saw small threads of light filtering in the message it sent, recognizing how its writers were trying to shed a little light, creating a jenga tower of storylines and new characters, only to be thrown away by poor, useless deaths and the erasure of said characters.
Since my first run on season 1 I related to Dean. I saw myself on him. (I will never be as brave and cool as him tho, never ever, but his personality traits, some of his family issues, his self worth issues, his loneliness, his unaddressed childhood trauma, his growth in a circle of violence, his reticence to address his feelings until he explodes?... Yeah. There are days where my girlfriend makes fun of me saying “Ok Dean”). I kept looking up to Dean in his geekiness, in his way he always put his life on the line to protect the people he loves and put them always first… even in the supernatural side of the storyline, he still was profoundly human and abnegated to the people in his life. Also because I’m deeply in love with Castiel but that’s another subject. Thanks to this show, I’ve found people in my own country who now I recognize as my family beyond SPN, who helped me accept myself the way I am, who are always there for me. My found family, my chosen family. Because family don’t end in blood, because family cares about you, not only for what you can do for them, because that’s what all of us have in common, and why this show resonated as strongly as it did for us. That’s why we found each other and ourselves in the process, in a circle of love, support, non-judgement and willingness to find a family in ourselves when our own blood relatives ignored us, abused us, refused to recognize us. We’ve found love and family. I’ve found the woman with whom I wanna spend the rest of my life with because of this show.
That’s the power of this story. I know my small circle is not the only one who lived this, who continues to live it.
I can talk about this forever, but there’s something I wanna talk about specifically here. When the ending aired.. what I felt was… like a bucket of cold water was thrown over my head. You know when your parents come home, or call you and give you the devastating news that someone you love died? that exact feeling. The adrenaline, the heartbreak, the feeling of loss.
The whole season 15 and 15 years of storyline were completely overturned. The misogyny the writers tried so hard to erase, it was there again, in a faceless woman who was supposed to represent the person a lead chose to spend the rest of his life with, reduced to a lilac dress, a blurry face and a uterus. We never seen acknowledged the existence of Eileen Leahy, Sam Winchester’s romantic interest since season 11, his perfect partner whose disability wasn’t an obstacle for her to be a badass hunter. (BUT COVID!! <- No. Eileen Leahy appeared in two episodes this season without Shoshannah being on set: Last Holiday and Despair. If they wanted to include her, they would have. They didn’t because they don’t give a FUCK). Sam Winchester is an academic, a witch, a leader, a powerful hunter, a kind human being, and the ending that was given to him was living an unfulfilled life, dying at a ridiculous young age, having a son only to replace his dead brother? It was sad. Sammy deserved better. He always did.
My beloved Dean Winchester, who I love so deeply, who taught me a lot about myself, about life, love, family, about *ejem* VICIOUS CIRCLES and the power of breaking free from them, of learning to embrace one’s self, our real tastes, our real identity, to come out of a shadow of being reduced to someone’s caretaker instead of having an identity of our own, to spend life loving family the healthy amount.. well, he was killed in a ridiculous way, on a milk run of a hunt. After being eager and ready to kill himself so many times. After all he’s been through, after saying he’s good with who he is, after considering retirement, after standing up to his dad, saying he already has a family, ready to cut the “I’m Okay” bullshit, address his feelings, his trauma, don’t letting those define him. He deserved better. He always wanted a family, he always wanted to break free from the version of himself he was created to be, “daddy’s blunt little instrument” (For fuck’s sake, he even said it in the same show 10’ before dying, man. If we don’t keep living, the sacrifice the people who died for us did, was for nothing). Are you telling me this man really would refuse his brother to call an ambulance? Refused his brother to get the first aid kit even knowing it was more serious than his brother thought? He was ready to live. He CHOSE life, and at the end his choice was stripped away from him. He clearly was a bisexual man and they never explored it.
Cas. The misfit. The fish outside of the water. Ambiguous gender and sexuality. Finally makes a homosexual declaration of love after all he’s been through. After being brainwashed, used, suicidal, isolated. After telling Sam and Dean he loved them more than once, that they meant everything for him. After confessing he’s been in love with Dean since he pulled him out of hell…. Was erased from the story. Erased, literally. Two emotionless mentions aren’t enough for a 12 year old family member who pulled both brothers out of hell, who died for them more than once, who until 2 seasons ago he didn’t even feel like he belonged there ‘cause he was never told he was loved. No one ever told him “I love you” back. Not Jack, not Sam, not Dean, not Mary. No one. Ever. And still, he died for love. And with his death, he was erased from the finale, being that the first finale Castiel wasn’t in since his appearance on the show. He deserved better.
All roads lead to Rome and you know what we got at the end of that road? a bottomless pit of NOTHING. The building up towards a different end isn’t just in s15. It’s been there for years and years. And if you watch the show, you see it at plain sight.
Sam Winchester hurried to die to reunite with his brother in heaven EVEN WHEN HE SPENT 30 MORE YEARS WITH A WIFE AND A KID he only wanted to die to go back to his brother? it’s insane, it’s ridiculous. That’s not what the show has been about for seasons now. SEASONS. The road was paved towards a healthy brotherly bond, each brother living their future the way they wanted, finally breaking free from the curse John dropped on Dean that Sam’s destiny was in his hands. No no. What was that? Did it ever happen? Was it a fever dream? They really destroyed everything in 38 minutes of the finale?
Stupid.
Representation is important, stories are important. They change lives. You know how it changed mine? After I saw Jonathan Van Ness coming out as non-binary, I started to realize how I never called myself "a woman, a girl" or anything like that, how my "female presenting" aesthetic changes drastically depending on how I feel when I wake up how I always called myself a "person", no gender involved. I realized I was a non-binary person even after becoming a parent. Thanks to Jonathan Van Ness. Thanks to seeing a person like her being unapologetically herself.
Representation matters.
It matters.
It helped my mom understand me when I was 13 and had a girlfriend. It helped my dad educate himself about trans identities. It helped my sister understand about her demisexuality. It helps break circles of ignorance and stereotypes. It helps people process what these characters wanna tell, and realize they're human beings above it all. We suffer, we laugh, we grieve. We love. We exist.
Supernatural missed a chance to be a historical show in terms of representation. And it breaks my heart. I cant believe they decided to erase Dean's sexuality, to erase Castiel after saying loud and proud he's in love with a man, to erase Eileen whose disability only was a disadvantage when they KILLED HER in the most ableistic way in s11, to never show Charlie and her girlfriend again, that they decided to make God bisexual AND a villain, thay they decided to turn the only regular non-binary character of color into the villain too (Billie).
I'm still grieving.
This is why "a stupid show" is so important for me, and for lot of people like me. Cause representation can change lives. Stories can change lives. It certainly changed mine, and I'm not the only one.
Don't let anyone tell you you're just a butthurt fan because you're suffering this ending. Every one of us have a story and this is mine. All of us are valid, our feelings are valid. And we'll get through this eventually
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Always the extra, never the lead
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x F! Reader
Genre: Angst
Words: 1.8k
A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back hoho serving another angst (if you squint your eyes lol). I hope I broke your heart or makes you feel pain or sad coz that's what i wanna make you feel while you read my piece oftrash. This plot is plaguing mah mind. Also, the title sucks lolololol I can't think of anything argh!
Enjoy :)
It's funny how people cheer themselves up by thinking that they are the main character of their own story. You think that it's ridiculous to give themselves a fake hope while the fact that the cycle of their story doesn't change anything. They'll never be the protagonist, no matter how hard they try to be one.
That's why you gave up, right. You settle yourself to be just a bystander, watching the main roles act their piece under the big spotlight. Watching the man you love entranced by the stare of the girl he likes. See, it's not you. Because, after all, as much as you wanted to be the Cinderella or Snow White or any other damnsel in distress, he'll never be the prince that will save you. You're just an extra.
Confess your profounding love to him? You already thought of it and considering the consequences of it, you're just a coward who didn't want to jeopardize the only relationship you had with him. You're fine with being his bestfriend. At least, you still have an excuse to be at his house until midnight just hanging out with him. You can still wear his hoodies and imagine yourself acting like how the other girls did to their significant other.
That until she came.
He spent less time hanging out with you. He rarely even talks to you and ask if you're still breathing. As if all of a sudden, every memories you spent with him vanished like a bubble when the narrator introduced his leading lady. Of course, you were jealous, infuriating to be honest, she stole your man, the ash blond you were crushing since you laid your eyes on him. And the thing that makes you go insane is the fact that you don't have the right to be angry because he's not yours to claim.
The only thing you can do is sit there and let yourself drown in pain. Pretend that you're fine with the set-up and act normal. You didn't want to mess up the play, don't you?
Fine, my ass. You're not a masochist.
They're still not together, that means she's not his either. They're still at the phase of knowing each other, so you still have a chance to confess. There's no way that they already fall in love with each other that fast.
Here you are in his room, laying comfortably on the silky sheets of his bed, staring at the ceiling. You just invite yourself to his house.
"Hey, dumbass! Are you even listening to me?" His voice snapped you out of trance. "I'm sorry. I got a lil dizzy for a sec. What were you saying?"
"You alright?" The hint of concern on his voice didn't go unnoticed by you and you just cherish this moment that way you always do. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hands touch your forehead, his other hand on his comparing your temperature. The small act of friendship makes your blood rush to your cheeks.
"Geez. I'm fine, Katsu." You rolled your eyes at him, swatting his hand away. As much as you want to prolong the skinship, you didn't want to make yourself become a flustered mess. "Now, what were you saying?" You propped your head with both hands under your chin, as you roll on his bed now laying flat on your stomach.
"I said are you coming with me this Friday night. We're just going to eat." You looked at him suspiciously. For a second, your heart triumphs.
"Wow, you already want to see me again."
"Tch. Just say yes or no, idiot." You chuckled at his scowling face. "Just admit that you missed me, grumpy-chan."
"You're a pain in the ass."
And just like that, you didn't have any decent to sleep as you were so excited for Friday to roll. Whatever plan he has, you can't help but to think that it's like he's asking you to go out with him. Ignoring the second line he said, you let yourself dive in fantasy.
It's Thursday and you're still conflicted on what to wear, you asked for help of your friends. Surprisingly, they agreed to help you right away without raising their brows and questioning you about the date with the 'mystery man'. 'Cause they already know who it was, just from how eager you look.
Your love for the blond isn't news to them. Being classmates and friends for almost three years, they already knew how your mind works though they didn't really know how frenzy and complicated the wires in it. They just know the surface of it.
"How about this?" Mina showed you the haltered red dress that ends just above your knee. You decided on it right away which makes your friend shakes their head at your eagerness. After that, you're just casually having fun, giving you advices and tips on your so-called date from their experience.
You saw him leaning on his car, permanent scowl on his face while constantly checking his phone. You eyed him from your position, awe struck at the ravishing aura he oozes. The white dress shirt he's wearing highlights the muscle he workrd so hard to built. He looks so clean and sinful at the same time.
"There you are, grumpy-chan!" You walked towards him slowly, smacking his back as your usual greeting, smile plastered on your face with the hint of blush spreading on your cheeks. You watched him stunned for a while, eyes roaming to your body. "About fucking time. Let's go."
You were surprised when he opened the door for you but you just shake it off. He's gentle, seems like his careful with his actions.
He glanced at you for a moment before he went inside the car. His heart went wild when he saw you. He thought you looked prettier when you dressed up. He always saw you wearing baggy shirts that's why when you showed up with that tight dress he malfunctioned for a bit. You looked bold and sexy like a predator hunting its prey, quite opposite from the girl he's pining. He shakes the thoughts of you away as he began to drive.
Akiya is full of sunshine and rainbows. She's sweet and looks vulnerable like an antique dishware that needs to be taken care of. And he has the great urge to protect the quirkless girl. Funny, how he was so bully to Deku being quirkless and here he was falling for one.
He was so upset to himself when he found out his stupid affection to the girl. Their constant talking amd bubbly personality made it possible to like her. But everytime he's with her, his mind straying away to your well-being. He knew that you have feelings for him but he didn't dig further because you're not vocal about it. With how much his time was spent with you, he cared deeply for you. He loves you, of course, but it isn't like kind of love you felt for him.
After sorting out those endless thoughts, still, his adoration for Akira weighs more than your friendship.
That's why he's inviting you to dinner with him.
The anxiety is bubbling up inside you. The look on his face screams that there's something going on inside his head that you're not ready to unravel. Call it instinct but something feels odd. The ambience around you doesn't suit your guts. You're beyond happy that you're having a good time with him but there's this unsettling feeling that's eating your inside.
Is this what you think it is?
He's the one who initiates the conversation first, sensing the awkwardness in your table. Feeling blue, you just answered him with nods and short words. Clenching your jaw as you forced yourself to smile naturally. It's not really that difficult for you to do it since you are good at hiding.
The dinner was served and you just sat there, eating in silence. You don't dare move your eyes from your plate. You felt him checking on you for the nth time of the night then followed by a sigh.
You fucking knew it. Your grip on the knife was tight while slicing the tender beef. You're silently praying that you'll have the control of your emotions tonight. The night is still young but the 'date' is nearing to end.
"Y/n, just don't fucking talk and listen to me." His hand combing his spiky hair in frustration. He didn't know how to break it to you without hurting you. "What's with the serious talk, grumpy-chan? It's not like you, ya know." You laughed.
"I said I'll do the talking, idiot." You rolled your eyes at his remark."You know Akiya, right?"
"Uh, yeah, she's the girl you like, right." You said with an obvious tone in your voice, smiling, almost seemed like you're teasing him. Almost. Because the bitterness you felt left a hint on your voice.
Silence. No one dared to speak. Not because of your last statement. It seems like gods are not in the mood to heed your prayer as you desperately trying to stop the tears that you didn't know were already falling. You inhaled deeply, calming yourself down, slowly accepting your defeat.
You were the one that breaks the eerie silence. "So, you two are already together. Is that what were you going to say to me? Or is there anything el–"
Oh.
Realization strucks your chords. How can you be so fucking simpleton? A small laugh leaves your mouth while nodding your head crazily, new batch of tears forming in your eyes. He only watched you, confused.
"Oh my god! You fucking knew it. Am I right?"
"Y/n–"
"I'm a clown. You knew I love you yet–" You laughed again. People gaze at your direction, feeling pity at your state. You are mess right now.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Yes, I knew it. I knew your feelings but your my bestfriend for fuck's sake!" He raised his voice, bloodshot eyes lingering at your form.
As if like you flipped your switch, you looked at him with blank eyes, no emotions were found as you speak to him. "Is it entertaining? Is it funny to watch me make a fool of myself? Am I stroking your ego when I looked at you with fucking heart eyes huh, Bakugou? Tell me."
"That's why I'm fucking talking to you right now. I want you to stop it. I need you to stop loving me because I can't reciprocate it...I love Akiya."
"I know! Don't fucking rub it on my face. I know it. I already knew it! Okay? And yet here I am still fucking hoping that there's still a chance." You're desperately trying to sound fine, wishing for your voice not to crack. "I-I'm still fucking praying that I wish it's me. Why the hell it can't be me? Why, Katsuki?"
No, you're not going to break down in front of him. That will be last tears you'll shed. You shut your eyes tightly, regaining your control over your emotions. You didn't spare a glance at him, looking yourself at your mirror while retouching your make-up. You grabbed your phone, texting Mina to pick you up while you're talk to him. "Just so you know, I'm not going to cut ties with you. If that's what you're worried about. I'm still your friend, dropping the 'best'."
You looked up at him, eyes meeting his for the last time. You saw his pained expression, clenching his jaw when he looked away. You get up, ready to leave. "Another thing, next time when you reject someone don't do it over a fancy dinner. That just gives them a false hope and that's fucking painful." You chuckled.
Bitter smile plastered on your face, you prepare yourself for the conclusion of the story. Walking to his side, you bend to him while placing a kiss on his cheek, whispering your final dialogue as the side character.
"Goodbye, grumpy-chan."
#bnha x reader#bnha angst#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha#mha bakugou#bnha bakugo x reader#bnha bakugō#bnha bakugo katsuki
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Naughty Neighbors pt. 5 (Elriel)
My anxiety literally couldn’t stand thinking yall were upset/confused, so here’s the fifth part. Disclaimer I stole a line from From Blood and Ash.
1 more part to go... and it’s out tomorrow because I already wrote it lol. Sneak peak = smut
_____________________________________________________________
~Azriel~
“You look like shit, man,” Rhys remarks, sipping his whiskey and eyeing me curiously.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with you?” Cassian asks from behind the bar, sliding another beer in front of me.
“Bad week,” I mutter, taking a long pull from the bottle.
That’s a fucking understatement.
It’s been exactly seven days since Elain basically told me to go fuck myself.
I’d stupidly thought everything would kind of work itself out this week. I mean, there was no way she was planning to stay in that apartment for two whole weeks. She had to come out, which to me, meant I got to see her.
Except, unlike I’d thought, she didn’t come to her senses and tell me what I did when the inevitable run-in happened.
Nope.
She threw up.
I was leaving work, and she’d happened to be closing her shop at the same time. She’d looked up, and for a split second, she’d looked at me like she used to.
Like I meant something to her.
But then her skin went pale, eyes misty, and she put a hand over her mouth and turned back to the shop at a run.
Basically, the sight of me made her nauseous.
And if that didn’t make the week suck enough, the words she’d shouted at me last Friday sure as shit got the job done.
I’m not stupid enough to love you.
Oh yeah, that felt good.
Actually, every time I thought about it felt like getting punched in the chest. I’m not exactly keen on reliving that moment right now, even with two of my best friends. I’m here to drink, not depress myself further.
So when Cassian opens his fat mouth again, I growl, “Fucking drop it.”
His eyebrows shoot up, along with Rhys’s. Honestly, if I weren’t so damn miserable, mine would, too. These two idiots have known me my entire life and have pulled me out of some dark places, and I never snap at them.
“Sorry, man. I’m just... I don’t feel like talking about it.”
He nods, but there’s confusion and concern in his eyes. I look down at the bar.
I can practically feel the two of them exchanging a look, and I sigh, knowing what’s coming.
Rhys confirms it a second later. “Alright, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
Cassian grins. “Pussy problems, huh?”
“Shut up,” Rhys tells him, but then glances at me and his eyebrows shoot up and he grins. “He’s right, isn’t he? You’re having pussy problems?”
I’m ready to swing on them both. “Hard to have pussy problems when you’re not getting any. And stop saying that, anyway. We sound like assholes.”
Rhys’s lips twitch. “You really like this girl.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because she hates me.”
“Why do you think she hates you?” Cassian asks.
I grimace at the memory. “Well, for starters there’s the fact that she told me to stay the fuck away from her. And that she’d be stupid to love me. Oh, and then when I saw her this week, she literally threw up at the sight of my face.”
My best friends look at each other in shock. “She told you she’d be stupid to love you?” Rhys asks, and I nod. “What the hell did you do?”
Dropping my forehead to the bar, I grumble, “I have no idea. She kissed me, and then the next time I saw her she’s crying and asking me if this she’s a game to me or something. No, a sick joke. She asked if me flirting with her was a sick joke.”
I lean up and swipe a bottle from the bar shelf then pour some straight in my mouth.
“Did you try apologizing?”
“Yeah. She told me to save the bullshit.”
I drink some more, but Cassian gives me a concerned look and takes the bottle back.
“You have to talk to her, man,” Rhys informs me like the very helpful bastard he is.
“Didn’t you hear the part about her puking last time she saw me?”
Cassian chips in. “Bring a bucket.”
I roll my eyes, but the urge to smile makes my lips twitch.
“Just talk to her, Az. She has to at least tell you what happened.”
Easier said then done.
~
The next day, I take a deep breath, tell myself to stop being such a little bitch, and step into The Archeron.
My eyes find Elain immediately, so I get to watch the little smile on her face fall away when she sees me.
“You’re... in my shop.”
It’s the first thing she’s said to me in two weeks. It’s definitely not what I want to hear, but it’s fucking wonderful just to hear her voice.
“Yeah,” I say like a dumbass.
“You never come in here,” she points out, still shocked apparently. But that ebbs to something I like even less, and she demands, “Leave.”
Reaching to grab a random flower from one of the many overflowing bins, I throw it on the counter. “I’m a paying customer, and I’m not leaving.”
“Fine. That’ll be thirty dollars.”
My brows shoot up. “For a fucking weed?”
Her beautiful brown eyes narrow, and she gives me a victorious, evil little smile. “Just since you called it a weed, I think the price has gone up to fifty. If you don’t want it, you can always leave.”
Oh, she thinks she’s so clever, doesn’t she.
I stomp over and grab another one. “I’ll take two.”
Before she can tell me the price has doubled or something, I throw a bill down on the counter.
She snatches it up and puts it in the register, glaring at me the entire time.
“You have your weeds,” she tells me. “Please leave.”
“Not until you tell me why you went from kissing me to hating me.”
Elain rolls her eyes and grabs her phone off the counter. “I’m calling the police.”
Well, she’s dedicated to her desire to get rid of me, I’ll give her that. But she’s not getting away with it so easily.
I snatch the phone up and put it in my back pocket. “Feel free to come get it.”
“Fine.” She does come around the counter, but she brushes past me and heads straight for the door. “Keep the damn phone. I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not,” I inform her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to stand in front of me. “Just tell me, Elain. Please. I swear I’ll leave you alone if you do.”
That seems to get her attention. She considers that proposition, decides it’s worth it just to get rid of me, and shouts, “I heard you, you bastard!”
“Okay... heard me do what?”
Is this about me having fake sex with Mor? Because she didn’t seem to care-
“I heard you on the phone,” she says in a hard, harsh tone. “I heard you tell that woman that I kissed you. And I heard you laugh about it.”
Woman? What woman? What the hell is she talking about?
I open my mouth to ask, but she’s on a roll now and doesn’t give me the chance. “Oh, don’t look so confused. I literally heard you say you want me to love you before you have sex with me. I heard you say you’re going to trick me!”
She reaches out and shoves me, then yells, “And I am not a fucking maiden!”
Understanding dawns on that word and I realize how stupid I’ve been.
She heard me talk to Mor. After we kissed.
Oh, gods. She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks because she thinks I’m playing her and that I’m dating Mor?
I can’t stop the smile from pulling on my cheeks. She’s going to be so pissed when I tell her. “Elain-”
“You told her you love her! So go! Go love her, and leave me the hell out of your little games!”
She’s breathing hard, skin flushed, and looks ready to set me on fire.
And even though I know she’ll try and kill me for laughing, I can’t stop it. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
~Elain~
Well, he’s got that right.
“You’re an asshole, too. An big, idiotic asshole.”
Even if he doesn’t look like an asshole at the moment. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh again.
He keeps grinning as he slaps a hand over her mouth and rolls his eyes. “Thank you.”
Rage flares, and before she knows what she’s doing, she bites his finger hard enough to get him to drop his hand.
“Did you just... bite me?”
She nods, refusing to let her face heat at how he managed to make that question sound so damn dirty.
But that plan goes out the door when he murmurs, “It was kind of hot.”
I’m going to kill him.
She decides against homicide, but reaches out and slaps him as hard as she can. “I hate you!”
Palm to his red cheek, he looks down at her, the disbelief on his face almost comical. “You’re so unbelievably violent, Elain. You should know I find it really sexy.”
She growls in a manner she should probably be ashamed of, then shoves him as hard as she can. “Get out.”
Azriel just grabs her wrists and holds them above her head. “No.”
“Yes!”
He yanks her wrists, and they’re flush together, both breathing hard. “You are insane if you think I’m giving you up because of this stupid shit.”
“I am not stupid.”
“Never said you were, baby girl.” She grits her teeth, and he grins down at her. “Elain, there’s no other woman.”
Pulling on her wrists is fruitless, but she does it anyway. “Liar.”
“She’s my best friend!”
Rolling her eyes, she shoots back, “Oh, sure, Azriel. The best friend you have sex with and talk to at night and tell you love her. Sure. I just said I’m not stupid, so stop treating me like I am!”
“I’ve never had sex with her,” he says, lips twitching.
If her hands were free, she’d smack that little smile. “You’re lying! I literally heard you have sex with her!”
“You heard what I wanted you to hear. We were fully dressed the whole time.”
Her mouth drops open at how ridiculous he is. He’s seriously trying to get her to believe that? “You are such a piece of shit.”
He rolls his eyes. “I promise, Elain. She’s my best friend. I told her about you, and how jealous I was listening to you and Lucien fuck--if you can even call it that--and she wanted to help me out.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did,” she says hatefully, pulling again on her arms.
“I’ve never had sex with her. I won’t ever have sex with her. She’s gay, for fuck’s sake.”
Elain scoffs. “I saw the two of you kiss! No gay woman kisses a man like that, you disgusting-”
“Stop calling me an asshole. I promise you’ll regret it when you realize I’m innocent.”
“That will never happen, because you aren’t.”
Azriel sighs. “You’ll believe me eventually. And I did tell her I love her. Because I do. She’s my best friend.”
“That’s really sweet. Thanks so much for telling me that,” she says in a sugary sweet tone. His jaw tightens.
But he finally releases her hands and takes a step away. “I’m telling you the truth. What’s it going to take for you to believe me?”
“Just leave, Azriel. I can’t hear any more of this.” Her voice cracks, and she hates herself for having to fight back tears.
She’d felt so unbelievably embarrassed when she’d heard him talking to that woman. The laugh, the way he’d admitted to trying to trick her, the way he’d said I love you.
His eyes go soft, and it pulls at her chest to see that expression on him. He’s suddenly close to her, brushing a finger over her cheek. She should push him away, tell him to get out. But just for a second, she wants to stand here with him.
It feels--felt--so right with him, and it hurt to be that wrong about someone.
“You know,” he murmurs, voice soft and caring, “You wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t love me.”
Elain sucks a breath in, and he grins.
“I don’t love you.”
Why does saying that make me want to cry?
“Back to lying, I see.” Azriel leans in and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll prove everything to you. I’m not giving up. You’re worth fighting for, Elain.”
Then he tosses her forgotten phone on the counter and walks to the door. Turning back to her suddenly, he smiles and says, “Oh. And you look beautiful today.”
He’s gone before she can find something to throw at him.
Elain stands there and watches him walk to the tattoo shop. Her heart’s at war with her brain, and she walks back to her post behind the counter, finding his very expensive flowers lying there forgotten.
She knows she should forget everything he said. It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard, anyway.
But he’d sounded so sincere. And he looked as awful as she feels.
She doesn’t know how he could ever do it, but she hopes he does what he said and proves he’s innocent.
You’re worth fighting for.
I hate him, she tells herself, even as she picks up his flowers and smiles.
___________________________________________________________
Part 6
@astreia-oniria @keshavomit @elrielllll @januarystears @zukos-simp @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @wineywitch202 @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @sjmships @poisonous00 @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace
#elriel#elriel fanfiction#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acotar fanfiction#azriel#illyrians#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight
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Merlot and Meddling
I present to you; a fic born from the inspiration at the bottom of a bottle of wine.
Synopsis: Maybe Pansy could be right for once, maybe this is the closure Draco needs. Or maybe they’ve both just had a little too much to drink. After all, nothing bad ever came from drunk advice, right?
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 2494
Find it on Ao3
-----
Draco took a large swig of his wine, swilling it around his mouth as he thought over Pansy’s idea. The two had already finished their second bottle and were now well into their third. The blond was laying languidly on his best friend's sofa, the raven-haired witch in question haphazardly strewn across the neighbouring armchair.
“Not a chance.” Was he slurring?
“Why the fuck not?” Pansy’s high squeal of disbelief echoed in draco’s ears.
“Because it's a moronic idea.”
“No it's not.”
“Yes it is.”
“No. It. Is. Not.” Pansy enunciated each word harshly, pushing herself up. Draco flicked his eyes over to her, meeting her determined gaze. “This will be good for you, Draco. And even better for me, when I read it sober tomorrow.” She grinned.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose as he resigned himself to the whims of a stubborn, drunk heiress, with a loud groan. “Fine.”
Pansy squealed, a horrific noise that only Draco ever got to hear. Sometimes he wished that being her best friend was a bit quieter. She clapped her hands eagerly. “Wonderful. It’s about time you got some of this mess-” She waved her hands at him, “- out.”
Draco sat up, enjoying the slight spin of the room as he downed the rest of his glass. “Top me up then, gorgeous. I’ll need my strength.” He drawled.
“In your dreams.” Pansy scoffed, placing her own empty glass on the coffee table. “I’m going to grab some parchment. Top me up too.”
If Draco was lucky enough, he’d wake up before Pansy tomorrow, and could burn the blasted thing before she could bully him about it.
----
Harry yawned widely, scratching his head as he plonked himself down at the staff table. Neville nudged the pumpkin juice towards him, shooting him a sympathetic look.
“Remind me why I took this job again, Neville?”
“Because you’re good at teaching people and making them believe in themselves?” The herbology teacher took a bite of his jam-laden toast.
Harry huffed. “Well it certainly wasn’t to stay up all night grading mock exams.” He pulled a plate of pancakes towards him. “I had more than enough of my own bloody OWLs and NEWTs.” He grumbled. “Should’ve thought this through more.”
Neville hummed. “Do you want me to pour some cold water on you?”
“Don’t even try it.” Harry smirked. “You can’t just throw water on The Saviour of The Wizarding World.”
“Did you forget I’m the one who stood up to Voldemort?” Neville raised an eyebrow.
“What has happened to you?” Harry shook his head jokingly. “Where’s the shy boy I grew up with?”
“Still bloody here.” Neville chuckled. “Just a bit more comfortable now.”
“Teaching suits you.”
“It suits you too, most days.”
Both young men turned back to their food, Harry reaching for the pot of coffee he’d asked for. The noise in the hall rose, and he looked up just in time to catch the post before it hit his plate. Being a Hogwarts alumni and a seeker definitely helped during breakfast.
It was just the usual, a copy of the day’s Daily Prophet, a copy of The Quibbler, a letter addressed in Hermione’s writing, no doubt reminding him of the Weasley spring get-together, and...another letter. He didn’t recognise the handwriting. He pried open the seal curiously, unfolding the letter inside:
-Dear Mr Potter,
The most famous, most brilliant, most bravest man to ever exist. Who’s arse we must all kiss, and lick, and fondle, though that may be just me. It really is a nice arse you know. Have you ever looked in the mirror? A truly fine specimen. You wouldn’t think it spent so much time on a broomstick being a bloody show off, but here we are, you with a nice arse and me with a picture of it in my head. How delightful.
I have been told to write this letter to get my feelings out. And though I would usually deny these feelings, everything must end - including these ridiculous thoughts. “What thoughts?” You may ask. Well, let me tell you.
I hold a rather large grudge, fuelled almost completely by my own damaged pride. Pride bruised by a lack of you in my life, and pride bruised whenever you are in my life. It is quite the conundrum, I tell you.
A lot of my feelings are unnecessary, some unscrupulous, some unwanted, unfounded, but most of them unreturned. For when have you ever looked into my eyes the way I do yours? When have you lain in the dark, retracing our encounters? Or remembering the colour of your eyes, or the pattern of your freckles, or the way you thin your lips in rage, or lick them with anxiety or when, perhaps, have you thought of me at all? Outside of your obligation to that is? Your obligation to hate me, despise me, distrust me. Please tell me that’s what it is; an obligation. Or at least tell me that you don’t anymore, don’t resent me, loathe me. That’s what I need to believe.
I certainly did you. I hated you, it's true. For many reasons. For stealing the limelight, for bettering me, for dismissing me. But I also admired you, envied you. Resented you, and myself, for my cowardice, for my choices, for having the family that I did, that I do.
I could go on and on, but the point is this- you still plague my thoughts. You still fill my head. You’re in my dreams, my nightmares, my desires…
And this is not healthy, it can’t be. Progress is healthy, moving on is healthy. And perhaps just imagining you reading this will contribute towards that.
So let me leave you with this, Potter: I feel so many things for you, and none of them can be resolved, or come to fruition. This is my attempt at goodbye. This is my attempt at starting anew. -
The writing is messy, the ink smeared in places, a stain of some kind in the bottom right corner. But Harry knows this handwriting, spent his teenage years seeing this writing, obsessing over it some nights. And he knows the writing on the front of the letter doesn’t match.
Which means Draco Malfoy did not intend for Harry to see this.
---
“Fuckkk…”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Draco’s eyes shot open, focusing on Pansy as she sat on the armchair, hair brushed, face washed, sitting in a fresh set of pyjamas. “Why the fuck are you okay?” He groaned, rubbing his face.
Pansy shrugged. “I had a pint of water and a sandwich after you passed out. Woke up feeling perfectly fine.”
“You bitch. Why didn’t you make me one?”
“And wake the beast? No, thank you.” She motioned towards where a mug of steaming tea sat under a stasis charm. “Cuppa?”
Draco hummed thankfully, sitting up carefully so as not to anger his throbbing head further. “Less of a bitch.” He murmured. He sipped at it, the warmth of it easing a bit of the tension in his body. “What time is it?”
“Just past eight.”
“So, really-fucking-early.”
“Yeah.” Pansy picked up her own mug. “I’m glad you’re awake though.”
“And why is that?” Draco sat back against the cushions, easing his shoulders as he took another sip.
“What do you remember of last night, love?”
Draco offered an exhausted chuckle. “Some of it.” He tried to think back. “We finished the third bottle of merlot, right? Or was it the fourth? And your dancing, that was great.” He snorted. “Merlin. You do squeal when you’re drunk Pans, I thought my eardrums- OH FUCK!”
“And there it is.” Pansy smiled at him.
“Oh Merlin, Pansy. Please tell me you burnt it. Please, Please.”
“I’d love to, Draco, I really would. It’s just…” She paused, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I mean, I was drunk too.”
“Oh no, please tell me you didn’t send it to Blaise!”
“Okay, I didn’t send it to Blaise.”
“Pansy Bernadine Parkinson. What. Did. You. Do?!”
“Don’t use my full name!” She whined. “You know how much I hate-”
“Pansy!”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It might go well, you never know. I do sometimes have good ideas, and honesty is always the best pol-”
“PANSY!” Draco lurched forwards, his stomach doing the same. Merlin, anxiety and alcohol did not mix well.
“I sent it to Potter.” She whispered, eyes wide.
“WHAT!” Draco stood up so quickly he spilt his tea.
“You never know-”
“At Hogwarts?!” The blond slammed his cup down on the coffee table, standing over his friend.
“Yes?”
“Merlin’s tits!” Draco’s hand flew to his hair, running them through nervously as he began pacing. “Merlin’s fucking tits!”
“I mean, it's not so bad, right? You could still make it.”
“Make it?” Draco spun around to face her, his mind racing. What had he said? He didn’t even remember half of it. He was pretty sure he mentioned Potter’s arse, and maybe his father? The memories were returning slower than he’d like. Had he signed it?! “What time is it?”
Pansy cast a quick tempus. 8:11.
“Maybe I can get there before the post does?”
“Not looking like that, you can’t.”
Draco dashed over to the mirror, taking himself in. His hair was knotted and sticking on end, his trousers wrinkled, his shirt untucked and half buttoned, and he probably smelled as bad as he felt. “Shit, right, okay." He bit at his lips nervously, his head racing. “I’m going to go back to mine and shower and change.” He turned to face her. “Can you send a message through firecall asking McGonagall if I can meet her at the end of breakfast? Say something about a tour of the new quidditch pitch.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
“Wish me luck, Pans, or it’s gonna be you who’s in the shit.”
“Yeah, I get it, I’m dead to you.” Pansy waved her hand nonchalantly, as if she was already over the mess she'd created. “Just go and sort yourself out.”
-----
Harry read, and re-read the letter at least five times, barely even tasting his coffee. Was it true? Did Malfoy really care for him? He couldn’t deny that the slytherin had been his thoughts since the end of their eighth year, but to think he had been in his? That was insane, unbelievable. And yet, here he sat, holding the letter.
Maybe he was wrong, maybe it wasn’t Malfoy. Sixth year had certainly proven that he wasn’t the best at handwriting. But it added up, the ‘limelight’ , the ‘cowardice’, the ‘family’. And who else had been close enough to him to comment on his freckles, or lips, or eyes, and still matched the things that had been said like Malfoy did?
Fuck, what was he going to do?
“Come on Harry, you don’t want to be late.” He looked up at Neville. “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just some unexpected news.”
“You sure? You look a bit frazzled.” Neville’s eyebrows drew together in concern.
Harry pulled on a smile. “All good. You alright?”
“I’m good. Got a whole day of first years today, you’d think they’d be better behaved this far into the year, but they can still be a bit tricky.”
“You’ll do well with them, you always do.” Harry clapped him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Harry.”
The two men headed out of the Great Hall together. Harry was so distracted he almost didn’t recognise the head of white blond hair standing just outside the doors.
“Malfoy?”
Draco Malfoy spun around, meeting Harry’s gaze with a look he couldn’t decipher.
“Potter.” He nodded.
“What are you doing here?” Why was his heart beating so fast?
“I’m meeting Mcgonagall for a tour.” Malfoy wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. He looked good, his hair falling softly over his forehead, no longer slicked back. He was dressed in an all black suit, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket. He looked handsome and confident… except for his other hand, which was tensing and untensing over and over again.
“I’ll catch you later, Harry. Malfoy.” Neville waved goodbye, nodding at the Slytherin.
“Why are you really here?” Harry asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.
“Well,” Malfoy’s voice caught and he cleared his throat. “I suppose I wanted to apologise, for the, um, letter.” He looked down, finally conceding his nervousness.
Harry nodded towards the doors. “The kids will be out soon, follow me.”
“Look, Potter. We don’t have to make this bigger than it needs to be. Let’s just agree to forget about it.”
Harry stopped, turning back to face him. “Why would I do that?” Malfoy finally looked at him. Harry lowered his voice, taking a step closer. “I don’t hate you, Draco.” He licked his lips, terrified of what he was about to say. “It was nice to know you’ve been thinking about me, too.”
Draco’s eyes lit up, before drawing together again. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, Potter.”
“I’m not joking.” Harry took another step forward, until they were only a few feet away from each other. He summoned his Gryffindor courage. “I’ve been thinking about your arse too.”
Malfoy’s jaw dropped, and he shoved Harry in the chest. “That’s not funny.”
Harry laughed, catching his hands. “It kind of is.”
“Oh shove off, you great big git.” Draco gave a small smile, trying to pull his hands away.
“Make me.” Harry whispered, holding on tighter. If you had told him two hours ago that he would be flirting with Malfoy outside the Great Hall, he would have told you to go and get your head checked for wrackspurts. He felt almost giddy with excitement and disbelief, and most of all, anxiety. He was just riding on the wave of adrenaline at this point.
Draco snorted. “Good idea, Potter. The hallway is about to flood with students.” The Slytherin didn’t look away though, his silver eyes holding Harry's with a hopeful look.
Harry finally let go of his hands, but neither man stepped away. “Take me to dinner then.”
“You’re asking me to ask you to dinner?” Draco shook his head in disbelief
“Yeah, why not?”
“Very romantic.” He drawled.
“Hey! I’m the one who had to decipher your horrific handwriting.” And read your half-lusty, half-sad ramblings on four hours sleep, he thought.
“Oh, Merlin.” Draco winced. “Fine. Do you want to come to dinner with me?”
“You could be a bit more enthusiastic.” Harry mock-pouted.
“I’ll bloody take the offer back if you’re not careful.”
“Alright, okay.” Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder to see students starting to pour out of the Great Hall. He grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Owl me the details.”
And with that, Potter dashed off down the hallway, leaving Draco’s fingers tingling and his stomach fluttering with butterflies. They were both doomed, surely, so why were they both so excited about it?
#drarry#draco malfoy#harry potter#draco x harry#harry x draco#pansy parkinson#neville longbottom#fic#fanfic#drarry fic#drarry fanfic
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