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#today i saw a young girl and she had the most GORGEOUS freckles ;(((( i told her n she didnt believe me cuz she thinks they looks ugly :((((
pappydaddy · 3 years
Text
ivy (f.w.)
A/N: Here here the first piece for the Folklore/Evermore collection - ivy. This ended up being 13 pages (whoops!). It is clear in the piece that Y/N’s family, the Malfoy’s, and the Weasley’s are in no way related so, I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that! Anyway, enjoy lovelies💛!
Paring: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader/Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader
Show/Movie: Harry Potter
Not Requested
No Voldemort AU, but there is blood-supremacy but it’s not like in your face, it’s just because of the arranged engagement. 
Warnings: Lucius being a jerk, being trapped in a loveless engagement, arranged marriage, cheating, breaking off an engagement. Lucius kills a owl, but it’s briefly mentioned. 
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  She never saw this coming. This was not supposed to happen - any of it. She wasn’t supposed to be forced into an arranged marriage, she wasn’t supposed to be with Draco, and (most importantly) she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Fred Weasley while she was engaged to Draco Malfoy. She could guess that she deserved this. Her life was relatively easy until now. Even when she was sat down with her parents, Draco and his parents a year following their departure from Hogwarts and told she was to marry Draco since she was part of one of the only pureblood families not related to the Malfoys at all, her life was rather uncomplicated. It wasn’t until she bumped into Fred Weasley (another pureblood her family was oddly not related to), an old friend of hers from Hogwarts, one day in Diagon Alley when she was out shopping for a new owl since her and Draco’s had died from Lucius’ spurt of anger a few weeks prior. 
  The second her face met the broad chest of Fred, she felt heat crawling along just under her skin, tingling through her entire body in seconds. Looking up at him, his face glowed incandescently. Soon, she found her other thoughts cloudy in comparison to the thoughts of him. Despite everything within her telling her that those tingles and clouded thoughts meant no good, she agreed to be accompanied by him to help her choose a new owl. “You know, Errol finally kicked the bucket, it was quite sad,” Fred told her as they stepped into the cluttered shop. “Miss the poor bugger.” He muttered, letting the door softly close behind him as he followed her farther into the shop.  
  “I’m sorry, I know how much Errol meant to you guys,” Y/N sympathized. For only living with Draco for six months, she grew oddly attached to their owl, feeling like she was the only one she could confess her true feelings about the marriage to. When Lucius had hit the bird with the curse, she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, but she didn’t dare react. When he and Narcissa had left a few hours after, she had immediately run up the stairs, locking herself in her and Draco’s shared bedroom for the rest of the night. “It sucks when they go.”     
  Fred hummed in agreement, looking around at the multitude of caged owls around them, all clicking their beaks and cocking their heads at them as they passed. “That it does, Y/N/N. That it does,” He spoke, reaching his finger out to stick a bent knuckle between the golden bars of one of the cages. The snowy owl lunged at it, snapping its jagged beak at his finger in an attempt to bite it. “Hey!” He exclaimed, jerking his hand back away from the cage before he could get caught by the beak. 
  Y/N turned to look at him, snickering when she saw him clutching his hand to his chest, leaning away from the cage as he eyed the bird. “Teach you not to put your finger in a random owl’s cage, Fred.” She chastised, turning back to inspect the owl in front of her. She heard the sound of Fred’s feet shuffling along the old floorboards towards her. 
  “She looked friendly enough,” He defended, coming to stand beside her, bending down to also inspect the owl she was considering. She tried to ignore the rush of dizziness she felt from him being so close to her, the heat of him waving across the small space to hit her. “Who do we have here?” He asked, not noticing her switching to breathe through her mouth in an attempt to block his intoxicating smell of gunpowder and firewood from wafting into her nostrils. She could feel his gaze settling onto the side of her face, but she tried her best to also ignore that. She reached her hand out, tapping the little information tag attached to the table below where the cage sat. 
  “She doesn’t have a name yet, but she’s a decently young Barn owl-” 
  “Just like your owl from Hogwarts! Whatever happened to her anyway?” Fred inquired. Y/N swallowed, her hand fiddling with the sparkling engagement ring that sat on her left ring finger. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but she had nothing else to tell him. She wasn’t prepared to spend the day with Fred, let alone having him ask her questions like that. 
  “I had to get rid of her when I moved in with Draco, Lucius’ orders. I couldn’t have any possessions of my own that should be shared between a couple. So no owl, no dishes, nothing like that.” She muttered, casting a look down at her ring, watching as it caught the sunbeams pouring through the window of the shop. It was an extravagant ring. Tiny diamonds surrounded the large oval diamond and dotted all the way along the silver band. It took up so much room on her finger that it was a bit odd-looking. She thought it was an absolutely gorgeous ring, but she much preferred simpler rings compared to gigantic ones that nearly blind you in the morning sun. 
  “That’s insane, your parents couldn’t have kept your things if he requires you to follow that ridiculous, archaic rule,” Fred asked, bewildered. “Does that mean you had to get rid of your favourite teacup? The floral one that your grandmother gave you?” 
  “Unfortunately so.” 
  “Where did it go?” Fred blurted the question out immediately, a look of determination on his face. Y/N finally glanced at him again, her eyes catching on his jawline before stopping at the freckles that littered his face. His red hair burned brighter and his skin glowed in the golden rays, looking like one of the paintings you would find hanging in the Hogwarts corridors. 
  “I sold it to an antique store here on Diagon Alley, don’t know much more than that,” She clicked her tongue, reaching out to grab the ring on top of the owl’s cage. “I think I’ll take this lovely lady, she looks so calm,” She cooed, noticing how the owl barely shifted when she picked the cage up. “Wanna stick your finger in her cage?” She directed the last question to Fred, looking up at the older wizard with teasing eyes. 
  “Yeah, no thanks, I learned that lesson already today.” He scoffed, following her towards the cash in the middle of the store. Y/N let out a boisterous laugh, gaining the attention of the lady tending the cash. The older lady sat up straighter on her stool, tucking her copy of The Daily Prophet off to the side. 
  “Good morning, Mr. Weasley,” She greeted him kindly, reaching under the counter to grab a tin, setting it onto the counter and extending it towards the pair. “Sweet?” 
  “Don’t mind if I do Mrs. Echers,” Fred lit up, plucking one of the individually wrapped sweets from the tin, unravelling it and stuffing it into his mouth quickly. “Thank you.” He spoke through a muffled mouth, chewing on the taffy-like candy. The lady, Mrs. Echers, slid the tin towards Y/N, looking up at her with expectant eyes.
  “How about you dear?” 
  “If you insist. Thank you.” She smiled, gently taking one between her pointer finger and thumb, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket before placing the cage on the counter. Mrs. Echers put the tin back under the counter, looking between Fred and Y/N. 
  “You didn’t tell me you were engaged-” She paused, squinting her eyes at Fred to figure out which twin he was. Before Y/N could correct her, the lady sighed. “I’m sorry dear, I still can’t tell you two apart.” She shook her head, defeated. 
  “Don’t worry Mrs. Echers, I’m Fred,” Fred waved her off, looking down at Y/N with a goofy smile. “But I’m not engaged, she’s an old friend I bumped into.” He said the words with an almost disappointed voice that Y/N was sure she was imagining. Why would Fred be disappointed that she wasn’t engaged to him? He was Fred Weasley. The boy two years older than her, and her friend’s older brother. There was no way that Fred Weasley was disappointed about her getting married to someone else. 
  “Oh, really,” Mrs. Echers gasped, looking between them again as if she didn’t believe it. “I’m sorry dears. You guys just meshed so well together, I had just assumed,” She apologized, laying a gentle, frail hand on her chest, her shoulders drooping. “Now that I’ve embarrassed myself enough, will this girl be it today or do you need some food or anything?” 
  “No thank you, she’ll be all. We’ve still got plenty of supplies leftover from our last owl to do us for a bit,” Y/N told her, digging through her bag for the money Draco had given her. Before Mrs. Echers could tell her the total, she was already placing the exact amount on the table, Draco having given her just enough for any owl. “My Fiancé’s father is quite strict about how much money he should give me,” She admitted bashfully as Fred and Mrs. Echers gave her odd looks. “Very traditional.” 
  “Of course,” Mrs. Echers cleared her throat, sharing a look with Fred as Y/N looked down to zip her bag back up. The older lady placed the galleons into the tray before taking a piece of paper from the stack, slamming a stamp upon it. “Here is your receipt dear,” She smiled kindly at Y/N, handing her the slip. “Have a great day you two.” She waved to them as Y/N went to take the cage off the counter. 
  “Let me take her,” Fred told her, his hand beating her to grip the loop again, picking the cage off the counter himself. Y/N looked up at him, startled before she nodded. “See you, Mrs. Echers.” He nodded at the lady. Y/N smiled, waving in parting as she walked towards the door. The pair stepped out in the cold, making Y/N regret not wearing her travelling cloak this time round. She shivered slightly, the winter chill running right through her. 
  “Well, I guess I best be heading home, Draco will be wondering where I’ve gone to or if I’m buying the whole shop!” She joked, trying to take the cage from Fred, but he moved it out of the way, his brows furrowed in displeasure. 
  “How can you buy the whole shop if he limits how much money you can carry on you per trip?” He questioned. 
  Y/N sighed, dropping her extended arm. “It’s not Draco as much as it’s his father, he thinks that I shouldn’t be able to spend Draco’s money since I didn’t make it and we’re not married yet.” She explained, starting to walk along the snow-covered cobblestones. Fred scoffed, shaking his head. 
  “Why don’t you just work?” 
  “Because Lucius says that I shouldn’t work, that Draco should be the one controlling the money and he can’t control the money if I make my own,” She disclosed, her eyes trained on the path in front of her. “But Draco doesn’t agree with him, he always tells me that after Lucius has scolded me for doing something wrong.” She was quick to defend her Fiancé. 
  “If he didn’t agree then he should stand up for you,” Fred pointed out, walking slowly beside her, ignoring the path in front of him - instead, he was watching her. The conversation came to a natural end with that, bathing them both in a comfortable silence as they thought. Y/N tried to not think about how easy it was to be with Fred, how comfortable and relaxed she was with him compared to Draco, the same school-girl feelings kicking up from where they had settled at the bottom of her heart like dust. “Would you join me at The Leaky Cauldron for a drink or two?” He suddenly asked, looking back at her. 
  She looked over at him, shocked to see him already looking at her. “I really should be getting back, besides, I don’t have any more money on me.” 
  “Nonsense, you are your own person and I can pay for your drinks!” 
  “Then wouldn’t that make this a date?” 
  “That so bad?” Fred wondered flirtatiously. Y/N laughed shaking her head gently, a large smile covering her face as she tilted her head to the ground before looking back up at him, the smile still on her face, her eyes twinkling. 
  “It would be since I am engaged to get married, I can’t really be going on dates with another bloke.” She pointed out. Fred nodded, looking away to look ahead, his lips pressing together tightly as he nodded. 
  “Well, if you won’t let me treat you to a few drinks on me, would you like to come to my apartment for a free drink? And if you want, you can send me some knuts for the teabag or whatever you drink if that makes you feel better.” He offered, earning another laugh from her. 
  “Sure, why not,” She shrugged. “But you better expect to see this owl tomorrow morning.” She teased, pointing to the owl in the cage he still held. She felt excitement ignite within her as they saw the purple painted outside of the Twin’s shop appear. She had never been in the shop since it opened, she was excited to see how much it had changed in its success.
____          
  Y/N sat on the couch of the grand library, a book open on her lap, but she wasn’t paying any attention to the words on the pages. Instead, her mind was on the same fiery locks she gazed upon a week ago. Even in the big, silent house, her head was filled with the sound of his voice, easing the heaviness of her heart. Before she bumped into him, she was perfectly fine playing the doting wife to Draco, to accept her fate willingly, but now she couldn’t shake the pain she felt when the thought of the life that awaited her when she got married. Suddenly, being alone in this mansion felt like she was trapped up in a tower, far away from anyone who wasn’t her family or her Fiancé and his family. 
  Sighing, she blinked at the page, trying to unblur the words and take her mind off the man she most certainly shouldn’t be thinking about like this. For the week following their little encounter, she couldn’t get him out of her mind, every little thought was consumed either by the feeling he ignited within her or him himself. She was sure that their meeting was an off thing, never to happen again, especially since he hadn’t sent her another letter since she mailed him a few knuts, having had to lie to Draco and tell him that she had accidentally broken something when she was buying the owl and had to replace it. Even though Lucius had berated her for a good ten minutes afterward as Draco stood back silently, she found herself willing to tell a lie again if that meant that she could just contact Fred in someway. 
  Two clinks against the glass of one of the large windows of the library startled her. She looked towards the window, seeing a Tawny Owl perched just outside, pecking the window. Carina, her and Draco’s owl, chirped happily, shifting on her perch, her wings flapping as she waited for Y/N to let the other owl in. “You know this owl, Carina,” Y/N asked, gently closing the book and setting it on the empty cushion beside her, rising from the deep green velvet couch. Walking through the dust particles that danced in the heat of the morning sunlight, she unlocked the window, opening only half of it enough to let the light brown owl into the house. “Come on in,” She spoke gently, watching as the owl spread its wings and glided into the room, going right towards Carina and perching itself right by her. “Is this your friend?” She directed the question towards Carina, earning a small, happy chirp in return. Giggling, Y/N grabbed treats out of the jar, leaving the window open, allowing the cold winter wind to gush into the room. 
  Stroking the mysterious owl’s feathers, she extended her flat hand towards it. Clicking happily, the owl took the offered treat gently. Extending her hand towards Carina, the treat was swiped from her hand. Carefully, she took the rolled up piece of parchment from the owl’s leg, unravelling it. Walking back to the couch, her eyes skimmed over the messy but neat scrawl, the sight of it making her heart jolt. Slowly, she sunk down onto the couch, but still remained poised in case Lucius decided to swing by to ‘make sure she was acting appropriately’ while Draco was at work. 
  Dearest Y/N/N, 
  Fred’s letter started. 
  You must be wondering why I still haven’t sent a reply to your letter in the past six days. I was unable to continue correspondence due to the booming business the holidays are bringing to the shop, but I also had my own mission I needed to complete before I could send any sort of letter to you. 
  She smiled down at the little paragraph before her eyes flowed to the next one. 
  I am very sorry that I couldn’t have written a more formal letter and put it in an envelope, but sadly, with how busy the shop has been, I could only manage to scribble this down on a spare piece of parchment. It also didn’t help that it was George’s turn to grab stationary this month and he forgot. But despite the lack of supplies and time, I needed to write to you. 
  Now, to get to the point of this letter. I am requesting your presence at either my apartment or The Leaky Cauldron. I give you the choice because I know how you feel about the idea of me paying for your drinks. Bring sickles if you need, but I beg you to agree to meet me at eleven at your choice of location.
Much love, 
Fred Weasley
  She couldn’t help but smile down at the parchment, her body weightless as if she was floating around the sky among the clouds. The pain and loneliness of the cold mansion vanishing. Warmth wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “He wants to meet me somewhere,” She whispered, feeling a giddiness rise within her. She tried to squash it, to push it down. It was the same giddiness she felt when he had smiled at her in the hallways back in their school years. “He probably wants to catch up some more, that’s all,” She told herself, rising from the couch once again to make her way over to the writing desk by the open window. “I would love to go to The Leaky Cauldron, but Draco would never give me money if he knew I was meeting Fred there, best go to his apartment I guess.” 
  She sat Fred’s letter off to the side, noticing a scrawl on the back of the parchment, making her flip it over. 
  P.S., This is Earl the Tawny owl, George and I’s owl for the apartment. He took quite a liking to Carina, I think they are quite good friends already. 
  Shaking her head, she glanced up at the two owls sitting calmly on the perch, tilting their heads at each other. “Earl, nice to meet you.” She nodded at the light brown owl. Earl looked towards her, clicking as if returning the greeting. Nodding, Y/N grabbed a piece of clean parchment and an envelope, plucking the quill from the desktop and uncapping the inkpot. Dipping the end of the quill in, she wiped the access along the lip of the bottle, a bit of black ink rolling down the side of the jar. The quill scratched on the parchment as she elegantly wrote a greeting to Fred, a soft smile on her face as she wrote. 
  ____
  The next day at eleven, Y/N wandered into the Twin’s shop, spotting Fred right away. Standing behind the counter, he slid a big bag of products across the counter to a tired-looking man. Her feet easily made their way towards the tall ginger, the same soft smile that she usually wore around Fred taking its place on her face. The man walked past her, the strangers sharing a greeting nod in passing. “Eleven o’clock right on the dot,” Fred commented, stepping out from around the cash, showing Y/N his deep purple suit. “Always so punctual.” He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. 
  “One of us has to be, and it’s certainly not going to be you, now is it?” She teased back, pushing the thoughts of how good Fred looked in deep purple. Fred chuckled at that, nodding in agreement. 
  “Too true, Y/N/N,” He shook his head gently, nodding his head in the direction of his apartment. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He told her, turning on his heel and striding towards the stairs. Y/N followed after him, taking the shop and its contents in as she passed shelves practically bursting with all the Twin’s inventions on them. 
  “Should I be scared? You’re not going to try and test a product out on me like when we were in school, are you?” She posed the question nervously, eyeing Fred’s back as they climbed the stairs to get to the apartment door. Fred let out another barking laugh, glancing back at her to throw her a wink that made her knees nearly give out from under her. 
  “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” He teased, not easing any of Y/N’s nerves. Even while she was nervous, she still felt the ease of calmness Fred’s presence cast over her. Fred opened the door, stepping out of the way to let her through first. The small apartment greeted her for the second time. Though it was crowded with furniture, products, and other things, she felt something she never could feel in her house. It felt warm and cozy, like a home, not just a house to sleep in. “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll get us some tea.” Fred told her, not even feeling the need to direct her to the couch. She didn’t feel like he needed to either for she already felt like she knew the space better than she knew her own house. Shedding her travelling cloak and her winter jacket, she draped them over the back of the couch, perching herself neatly on the edge of the cushion as if Lucius would pop out of nowhere and scold her for not sitting properly. 
  “So what’s this thing you need to show me so bad?” She called behind her towards Fred. She could hear the clanging and the shuffling from him in the kitchen behind her, but she couldn’t hear his reply until she heard him walking up behind her. 
  “You’ll find out in a second, but first,” He paused, setting two teacups on the coffee table in front of them. “You have to let me sit down,” He joked, lowering himself onto the couch beside her, sitting much more relaxed than she did. He took a sip of his tea, eyeing her, waiting for her to take a sip of hers. Catching is drift, she grabbed the cup, bringing it to her lips and taking a dainty sip. Nodding, he set his cup back down and reached for a bag neatly placed by the coffee table. “Happy Christmas, Y/N/N!” He smiled brightly, handing her the gift bag. She gasped, looking at it. 
  “A Christmas gift,” She asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fred, you shouldn’t have,” She continued, but he brushed her off, placing it in her lap insistently. “But I can’t get you anything in return, Draco won’t let me.” She pointed out sorrowfully, playing with the bit of tissue paper sticking out of the bag. 
  “Nonsense,” Fred waved his hand in the air before pointing at the bag. “Your reaction to this gift is enough for me,” He insisted. “Now open it or I will open it for you.” With a sigh, she pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, gasping when she saw what was settled at the bottom of it. Looking over at Fred with wide eyes, she looked for a way to know that it was actually what she thought it was. Fred nodded, smiling at her reaction. 
  “Fred, I-I,” She stammered, reaching in to grab the item, slowly pulling it out for them both to see. “It’s my teacup,” She breathed out in disbelief, looking at the light blue floral cup all over. “And the saucer,” She exclaimed, noticing the small plate also tucked in the bag. “I don’t know what to say, this is simply amazing,” She continued to gush, gently placing it back in the bag. “Where did you find it?” 
  “Well, I went to all the antique stores in the Alley to see which one you might have sold it to. When I did find it, they had already sold it but turns out, they sold it to Mrs. Echers from the pet shop and so I asked her if I could buy it back for you and she just gave it to me.” He retold the story. Y/N sat the bag down on the coffee table, lunging towards him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders without thinking. She was flat against him as he held his hands away from her in a stunned shock before he let his arms loop around her waist, holding her to him tighter, his eyes closing at the feeling of her warmth. 
  It was the explosions of mini fireworks under the skin of her lower back where his hands rested that pulled her back to reality and caused her to pull away, remembering that she shouldn’t be holding someone like that when she was engaged. “But, I can’t keep it, Draco and Lucius would never let me bring this into the house.” She remembered sadly. For a moment, she felt like she was free from the weight on her chest, free from this marriage that she and Draco clearly didn’t want. 
  “I know,” Fred told her, a smirk playing on his beckoning lips. “That’s why I think you should leave it here. You can come over for tea when Draco is at work and you can use it here. Whenever you like,” He suggested, snatching the bag from the table and walking over into the kitchen. Y/N stood, following him. Her heels clicked against the floor of the apartment, not having the same empty echo they did on the floors of the mansion. “That way, we won’t lose touch with each other again.” Fred pointed out, taking the cup and the saucer, placing it in the cubert with their other teacups. 
  “I wouldn’t mind that,” She admitted, looking down at her feet as Fred turned to face her, the cubert door closing quietly. He gazed down at her, noticing the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks and nose. “I’ve missed talking to you.” She finally looked up at him when she was sure the rosy colour had faded, but her cheeks burned once again when she saw him gazing at her like that. 
  “I missed talking to you too.” He whispered. She was so wrapped up in the realization of how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was for the pain and the stress from her life to fit in his hand as he relieved it from bearing down on her. It frightened her, but she couldn’t stop. She knew full well that she was falling for Fred Weasley again, but despite her telling herself not to, she couldn’t help but let the butterflies flutter. While preoccupied with her thoughts, she failed to notice how they grew closer together. On some level, she was aware of it and she wanted to lean closer to him, to press her lips to his, but her rational self was oblivious. 
  Finally cluing in, her rational self made no move to move away from him was his intoxicating scent flooded her senses. His breath fanned over her face the closer they got to each other, their feet shuffling and closing the distance slowly. She didn’t want to stop this. She wanted to do it even though she knew it was wrong. “Hey, Fred! You gotta come back down, we’re swamped-” George barged into the apartment. Y/N and Fred jumped, but they barely moved apart, their shocked faces only turning to look at the intrusion. “Oh, hello, Y/N, how’s Malfoy?” George wondered, having heard about her engagement from Fred. 
  “Uh, he’s, uh, good,” She nodded, her eyes darting around in panic. “He’s busy at work, but we think that will clear up after the holidays.” She sputtered nervously, stepping away from Fred hurriedly, coming back to her senses. 
  “Did you have something in your eye?” George wondered, watching her scramble towards the couch and grab her coat, pulling it on frantically. 
  “I’m sorry?” She blinked. 
  “Did you have something in your eye, was that why you guys were standing so close when I came in?”
  “Oh, uh, yeah,” She nodded, throwing her travelling coat over her arm and grabbing her bag. “I better go and let you guys get back to work.” She smiled towards Fred sadly, not actually looking at him. 
  “No, Y/N, you can stay, it won’t take long, we can have the rest of our tea when I come back.” Fred pleaded, not wanting her to leave. She shook her head, rushing towards the door. 
  “No, no, it’s alright, I have things to tend to at the house anyway. I’ll send you a letter, Fred.” With that, she escaped out the door, leaving a defeated Fred and a confused George behind. 
  Later that night, laying in the large bed, staring up at the silver moonlight lighting up part of the ceiling, she couldn’t help but think about Fred. Think about how it would feel for him to hold her as they fell asleep, think about how it would feel to kiss him, how it would feel to be wrapped up in his scent. Huffing, she turned her head, spying the dark figure of Draco laying next to her, his back to her. Even in the already large bed, she felt cramped laying next to him, but she also felt lightyears away from him. Sighing, she turned her eyes back to the glowing ceiling, her mind unable to stop thinking about Fred. She had tried so hard not to let him into her heart, not to let him plant himself into her perfectly laid plans, but here he was, slowly climbing up her tower like ivy, almost reaching her. 
____  
   It had been weeks since the incident, and though Y/N had been around Fred, she hadn’t let herself be expressive, instead, she pushed all her feelings to the bottom of her heart and did her best to keep them there until she left his apartment. Even with the tension, their conversations flowed smoothly. But all of those meetings were alone, there was nobody else there, just them. This one was different. This one wasn’t really even a meeting. This was the Ministry’s Christmas party. Y/N was forced to go because of her Fiancé and her future father-in-law both worked with the Ministry. Fred had to go because his father and his brother worked there. The small bit of knowledge that Fred was going to be there both excited and scared her. 
  His presence at the party was part of the reason she chose to wear this green, wrap dress with the thin straps, and sweetheart neckline. She looked amazing in it and felt amazing in it. She wanted to feel wanted and Fred was the only one she wanted to feel that from. Draco had barely looked at her when she finally descended from the grand staircase in their mansion, too busy talking to his father about how to act at this party. Draco’s hand on her lower-back didn’t ignite the little fireworks that Fred’s did. She didn’t have the same tingling spreading through her body as she did when Fred touched her. Her thoughts weren’t clouded like they were with Fred. 
  Even before they left the mansion, Y/N found herself longing to have some borrowed time with Fred. She wanted to sneak away with him, seeking the relief he brought her. When they finally arrived at the party and she spotted him across the room, his eyes already on her from the second she stepped into the room, that feeling only intensified. Draco, her Fiancé, was standing right next to her. She should have wanted to have his eyes on her, to feel his touch, to stare into his eyes, but she only wanted Fred. She wanted his eyes on her, she wanted to feel his hands on her lower back, she wanted to stare into his eyes. He had consumed her finally, his ivy growing to cover her tower, reaching inside to save her from her isolation. 
  “Yes, Y/N and I are still planning our wedding. I’ve just been so busy with work that I haven’t had much time to work out a budget for her and mother to work with,” Draco was locked in a conversation with some old Ministry official, a conversation that Y/N took no part in. Instead, her eyes were locked on Fred across the room, watching as he talked with his twin, sipping at his champagne fluke. “What season were you thinking of having the wedding, Y/N?” Draco asked her, pulling her from her daydream. 
  She pulled her eyes away from Fred, looking between the man and Draco, Lucius glaring at her subtlety as if to warn her not to mess up. “I was thinking of a spring wedding-”
  “A spring wedding,” Lucius repeated in an outcry. “You cannot have a spring wedding. There is mud all over the place. It’s a mess!” 
  “Yeah, I forgot. Maybe a summertime wedding would be better.” She corrected herself, taking a sip of her fluke. 
  “Summer weddings are amazing, but they get fairly warm so it would have to be an outdoor wedding,” The man nodded along. “But that doesn’t matter as long as you two are married and start having babies, that’s the main thing, right Lucius?” He exclaimed loudly making Y/N nearly choke on her champagne. The man’s exclamation gained Fred’s attention, making him look over at the group. He saw Malfoy’s arm around her waist, looking rather limp. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her. Y/N on the other hand looked like she wanted to escape his hold and escape this party in general, but she plastered on a fake smile and powered on. 
  “If you would all excuse me, I have to go powder my nose.” She wiggled out of Draco’s hold, none of them protesting her exit. Setting her champagne down, she exited the main ballroom, wandering through the empty halls, trying to get as far away from the party as she could. She failed to notice Fred following her in a distance, glancing behind him to make sure that nobody noticed or was following him. The slapping of dress shoes interrupted the clicks on her heels, startling her. Scared that it was Draco, she held her breath as she turned around, being pleasantly shocked when she saw Fred running towards her. 
  She stood there, shocked as he closed in on her, stopping in front of her as he panted slightly. “Hi.” He smiled down at her, breathless and still looking amazing in his black dress robes. 
  “Hi.” She said, equally as breathless just by looking at him. 
  “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t not tell you how great you look tonight, it just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t hear that,” He told her bashfully, stepping closer to her. “And that I missed you.” 
  She took a step back to create distance between them. “I missed you too, but we can’t do this here, what if Draco or Lucius saw? I would never be able to see you if they saw us.” She worried, looking down the vast hall towards where the party was, not seeing anyone. She let out a breath, looking back to Fred, their eyes connecting and her falling under his spell yet again. 
  “Why would that matter, we’re just friends catching up.” He asked. 
  “You know that we’re not just friends talking,” Y/N insisted, shaking her head. Fred bowed his head, licking his lips as he nodded, figuring that she would have brought this up sooner or later. “My life is a bloody fire and you’re the one who started it! I would have been fine being forced into this marriage, not knowing if there actually was someone out there for me to love and to love me, but then you reenter my life and that just shatters everything because no matter how hard I tried to fight this, you managed to plant yourself into my life.” She ranted, her chest heaving up and down as she started to panic, having just confessed that she loved Fred. She hadn’t even come to terms with that, let alone think about telling him that. 
  “And you think I wanted to do that? You think I wanted to fall in love with the woman who was already promised to another bloke? My feelings for you had never gone away and when I found out that you were engaged, it broke me, but I would rather you be in my life married to another than not be in my life at all. You think you’re the one with the problem? Think about how I feel, the woman I love is going to get married to another man and I can’t do anything about that-” 
  “Tell me to run.” She interrupted him, catching him off guard. 
  “What?” He blinked. 
  “Tell me to run,” She repeated. “If you tell me to run, I will leave Draco, leave the engagement and be with you, but I won’t go if there isn’t a chance of us being together because you’re it for me, Fred. You are the one I love, the only one I love.” She expressed, waiting impatiently for him to speak. 
  “I-I-” 
  “Fred, if you don’t tell me to run, I can’t leave. You’ll have to watch me become a Malfoy, watch me drink my husband’s wine like the doting wife I would have to be, watch me be by his side and bear his children. If I told him that I loved another, his father would destroy my house, destroy my family, destroy my owl again, destroy me. He would burn everything to the ground, but if I leave and be with you, I would have the courage to leave. But if you don’t tell me to run, then I will stay right where I am.” 
  Suddenly, his lips were on hers, moving passionately, their eyes closing as his tongue darted into her mouth. Pressing her against the cold stone wall, she slung her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him, her lips moving hungrily in time with his. Wedging his leg between her legs, she hiked her leg up to his hip. Her buttery smooth, dark red lipstick smudged against his lips and face as they lost themselves in each other, finally subcombing to their desires. She pulled away, panting, her head resting against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as she struggled to reach the ground due to his height. “So, was that you telling me to run?” She whispered, her eyes dancing between his as she waited for his answer. 
  “That was me telling you to run.” He confirmed, smiling down at her. She beamed, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. 
  “Then let’s run and get my stuff out of that place before Lucius can even think about ruining it.” She smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to Fred’s lips. 
  “But, what about Draco?” 
  “I’ll take care of that later, first, let’s get me out of that house.” With that, they pulled apart, Fred setting her gently on the ground before taking off down the hall towards the floo networks, their hands connected and wild laughs echoing off the walls around them.
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nonstoplover · 3 years
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happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley
summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.
pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader
words: 5K
meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'
(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write
a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx
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(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.
What the hell?
She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.
Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.
In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.
"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.
And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.
- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -
Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.
She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.
After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.
"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."
If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?
Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.
So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.
And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.
As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.
She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.
Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.
Friday the 13th.
Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.
- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -
The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.
"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.
She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.
"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.
And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.
"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.
"My family home."
The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.
- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.
Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.
Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.
"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.
His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.
Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.
The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.
He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.
From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.
- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.
"You broke your leg."
"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.
"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.
"Mu... a what?"
"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.
Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.
"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"
"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.
"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."
"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."
"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.
- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -
"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.
"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.
Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.
"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.
"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.
(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.
"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.
All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.
She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.
The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.
As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."
"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."
"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."
"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."
"Is it though?"
"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.
"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."
(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.
The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.
"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."
The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.
(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.
"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.
"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.
Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.
All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.
In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.
"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."
"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.
"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.
Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.
The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.
Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.
"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.
This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.
"Can we meet again?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?
"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.
The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.
When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"
The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.
Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.
She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.
"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.
And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.
.::the end::.
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tonitheloftwing · 3 years
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Unrequited Curaday Content!
She comes to my door at night. I hear her in the darkness, and can only guess her intentions. Only once did I catch her entering my room. Had I actually been asleep, who can say what she might have done?
Scythe Faraday now knew that Scythe Curie had no malicious intent when she’d watched him in his slumber, and was rather just a lovestruck girl, pining for her older mentor. Years, nay, decades, had passed since those tender moments of bottled fear and raw emotion, and many things had changed. Scythe Faraday was no longer the young man he once was, and now had a corner behind him. He liked to think of himself as older and wiser now, but knew he wasn’t. For as soon as he turned that damned corner, he felt all his younger, more spry emotions coursing through his veins, those of passion, foolishness. And all those emotions came crashing over him when he saw Marie Curie at conclave.
He hadn’t seen her since turning his corner, and he could tell she’d recently turned hers as well. God, she’s gorgeous!
Curie had done her makeup for the day, lavender eyeshadow on her eyelids and thick black eyeliner. As a younger person, Marie had always loved doing her makeup, one of the only indulgences Faraday would allow. He knew she never wore it anymore except for special occasions, like conclave or when he was invited to a holiday dinner with her family.
“Hello, Your Honor,” Marie greeted with a small wave.
“And hello to you too.” Faraday figured a compliment couldn’t be bad. “You look stunning today,”
“Thank you, Michael!” She said, flattered. “I just turned my corner yesterday for the occasion, so I thought that, hey, might as well look a little fancy. Besides, it’s the day of indulgence.”
“Speaking of indulgence… Did they make donuts or cupcakes for the midmorning break?”
Turns out, cupcakes. Turns out, Scythe Curie’s cupcake was a perfect lavender taste, with a lime vanilla buttercream (the same lavender color as the cupcake) and filled with a sweet jam and topped with silver pearls. According to her, his was a deep dark chocolate coated in white chocolate ganache, adorned with gold leaf, and filled with marshmallow. Faraday was supposed to eat the Faraday cupcake, and Curie the Curie cupcake, but they’d illegally traded.
“Commandment 11,” Faraday joked, licking his fingers. “Thou shalt not trade the custom cupcakes.”
“I’m sure we’re not the first scythes to do it, and I’m sure we won’t be the last,” Curie chuckled.
Faraday noticed how pink and rosy her cheeks were, and the freckles dotting her nose. She looked exceptionally pretty today, and wasn’t sure if he should continue to point it out, or just leave her alone. There was just something about her today that made his heart speed up, and made him want to hide from her in shyness.
After conclave, he continued to think about these feelings, but kept coming to puzzling conclusions. He recognized that he was attracted to Scythe Curie- that much was true. But why? He’d never harbored any feelings for her before this corner turning, and it was against the commandments to have feelings for anyone, especially another scythe. And he immediately wanted to stomp the feelings out of him, crush them. He remembered a line from a mortal age musical about this, only in that musical, the character was trying to repress their own homosexuality. Faraday just needed to imagine his brain was tiny boxes, and find the box that’s attracted to Curie and crush it.
But it was harder said than done. Because, no matter how hard he tried, he still found himself yearning for the lavender scythe, who he talked to in his free time over the Thunderhead. He felt like telling her about his emotional struggle, and so he did so.
I’m an unhonrable scythe, Marie. I have caught feelings for someone and my heart is breaking over it, because I know we can never be together. How would, or how do, you deal with this?
Uh
I don’t
And cry
Sorry
Since that wasn’t much of a help, and the pesky feelings couldn’t seem to convince themselves to go away, Faraday formulated a dangerous plan. He knew he would be breaking the ninth commandment, but he wouldn’t get caught… would he? The scythedom couldn’t possibly care so much about one scythe going down to the local florist’s, buying a bouquet, and confessing, could they? It would just be him entertaining a boyish fantasy. Yes, the scythedom wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about him doing this. Because he knew he was likely to go nowhere.
When he walked into the flower shop, jaws dropped to the floor and the florist was groveling at his feet, so terrified of gleaning.
“Your honor… please spare me! I just had a baby…”
Faraday took a moment to think of how to address the florist, not being able to determine if they identified as one gender or the other. So, he defaulted to, “Your Honor, I’m not here to glean you. I just want flowers.”
The florist looked up to him with relief and tears in their eyes. “Really?”
“Really. I’ll take… roses, I suppose. Red, please.”
The shop owner obediently cut his roses, and then asked, “Your Honor, sir, why did you call me Your Honor when it is a title only reserved to scythes?”
“Well,” Faraday laughed nervously. “I wasn’t sure if I should call you ma’am or sir, so I used something gender neutral. Us scythes may be bringers of death…” He despised that he’d just said that. Scythes were supposed to be the bringers of light, not death and darkness. But, it was for the sake of making this all seem less awkward. “...But we try our best to be respectful of our fellow citizens.”
The florist smiled uncomfortably. “Here are you roses, sir.”
And so he left, carrying the roses out with him, and catching a publicar to the MidMerican border, where he’d see Scythe Marie Curie.
He arrived on her doorstep, stuffing the bouquet in an empty weapons pocket, and knocking on the door.
She greeted him, looking as perfect as always. Her face appeared softer today than when he’d last seen her, her hair tied back in a messy braid. “Oh, hello, Michael! I wasn’t expecting a custody today,” she blushed, and that was when Faraday noticed she was in a nightgown, slightly paler than her robe, and wasn’t even wearing socks.
“Marie, may I have a word? Feel free to put on your robes first.”
“No, it’s fine,” Marie smiled. “It’s my day off, no robes for me. So, what did you want to have a word about?”
Faraday figured he’d just get to the point as he pulled the bouquet out of his robe, presenting them to Marie with a blush on his face.
But she didn’t seem that pleased. In fact, the corners of her mouth turned down. “Michael, what is this?”
“Marie, ever since we turned our corners, I’ve felt-“
“Is this a love confession?”
“...Yes,” Faraday admitted. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife, as the feelings were clearly not reciprocated from the way Curie was acting.
“Your Honor, frankly, I’m a little insulted,” Curie said, which made him flinch. Your Honor was such a cold term. “You think just because I had a crush on you when I was a girl means you can waltz up to me now with a bouquet of roses and expect me to say yes?”
“No, Marie, it’s not like that!” He cried. “I promise it has nothing to do with when you were seventeen. I love you now, for who you are now. A strong, powerful woman.”
“Well, I’m not a little girl anymore,” she told him harshly. “We are scythes. If I were to accept your offer, we could both get in severe trouble, and it’s not worth risking for someone I no longer love.” She stood up, towering over him at an imposing 6’1. “I’m sorry, Faraday. But I could never date another scythe. It’s not worth losing my job over. And, most importantly, I don’t love you.” She looked to him with tears in her eyes. “Now leave.”
And he did, throwing his bouquet down on the doorstep and walking away with nothing but embarrassment, shame, and a broken heart.
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sleepy-yn · 3 years
Text
His Eyes || Yamaguchi Tadashi
genre: angst, fluff warnings: one swear maybe NOT PROOFREAD summary: y/n and yamaguchi are crushing for one another. but y/n finds it hard to believe that Yamaguchi’s eyes are for her only because whenever she looks at him, he’s looking at someone else.
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For as long as you could remember, your brother was always protecting you. When you were kids and the older boys picked on you for wearing glasses and knowing how to read, he was always there to scare them off. In middle school, when you were told you were not good enough. The girls in your class told you guys didn’t like smart girls, they liked cute ones. Girls who needed protecting, laughed in a cute manner and didn’t talk as much. When Kei noticed you stopped trying in class and began shutting up whenever you caught yourself “talking too much”, he reminded you how the opinions of others should never matter to you. Others saw your twin as a cold-hearted person. He didn’t care for anyone, not even himself. But you knew they just didn’t understand him. Even now he continues to protect you from the truth.
Everyone knows Kei’s best friend, the only other person he cared about. You didn’t know what it was about Yamaguchi that made you like him. Was it the way he made sure to treat everyone with care even if they were a stranger? Or maybe it was the cute way he pouted when he couldn’t figure out a math problem. It still is a mystery but all that mattered was that you’ve loved him since you were 14. 
But there’s something Kei wasn’t telling you. Ever since you three entered high school, there was this girl that he couldn’t keep his eyes off. When the two had sleepovers (that you weren’t invited to) Yamaguchi often told him about the most beautiful girl he’s laid his eyes on. She had blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a permanent blush on her cheeks. It was so blatantly obvious that the boy had a crush on their manager. I mean sure, Yachi’s cute but Kei couldn’t help but feel bad for his little sister.
Tsukki knew about your crush on his best friend. He’s had to deal with your constant ramblings on how cute Tadashi was and how you wish he could like you back. But Kei knew that there was no chance of that ever happening. It made being around you so much harder, which is why he found himself avoiding you. 
This was unfortunate because you weren’t having the best time at school recently. You were so stressed and exhausted that you didn’t have the motivation to do anything. The rest of the volleyball team noticed how you weren’t yourself lately so every break they had was spent trying to cheer you up. 
“Cmon little ‘Shima, what’s up with you?” Tanaka crossed his arms.
“School is just so tiring lately, I just want to give up. On top of that, Kei doesn’t even hang out with me anymore. It’s like he’s avoiding me.” you shrug, leaning your head on the wall of the gym.
“Hm, it seems that there’s something deeper bothering you y/n-san” Suga drapes an arm over your shoulder. You guessed your secret would be safe with them. 
“Well it’s kinda hard to be happy when your crush doesn’t feel the same way,” you let your gaze fall on Yamaguchi’s figure. He always seemed to be smiling at something, his freckles (which you knew were scars) always made him seem so much softer. 
The team’s laughter broke you out of your thoughts.
“Are you kidding? Yamaguchi is wild for you. Every time you’re not looking, his eyes are always on you. It’s kinda cute,” Noya chuckles.
You found that hard to believe, “Yea? Well, every time I am looking at him he’s always looking at… her. Your eyes went in the same direction but this time you weren’t looking at Tadashi, they fell on Yachi.
“To be fair, y/n, Tadashi never seems interested in Yachi-san the way he is with you. There’s a difference in the way he looks at you.” Kiyoko speaks up, surprising the boys. You still were unconvinced. 
That night you laid in bed, holding a pillow to your chest. You were even more bored this night because the boys were having a sleepover that you weren’t invited to. In your own house! Your mind raced through everything the team had said and yet you were still doubting them. From a young age, you were aware that guys never went for girls like you. They liked cute girls, ones who weren’t so outspoken, had a cute laugh, needed protection. You didn’t fit the criteria in any shape or form. But you know who did? Yachi. 
Deciding to drown your sorrows in ice cream, you walked towards the kitchen. But conversation from Kei’s room stopped you in your tracks. 
“Tsukki you don’t understand! The way her hair looks in the light is so gorgeous since she’s blonde it makes her look like the sun itself. And oh, her cheeks. They always look so cute, like she has a permanent blush.” You didn’t care to listen anymore. You ran back to your room, not caring how much noise you were making. Falling onto the bed, your tears blurred your vision and your heart ached. It felt as if weights were pulling your heart down into the pit of your stomach. Your chest and throat felt tight as if you couldn’t breathe. 
“Y/N? Are you alright?” 
“Go away, Kei!”
“Im coming in then,”
The door opened and there stood your big brother, mask off and his eyes held not only hurt but sadness. He would never tell you but he really hated when you cried. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing a very good job as a big brother. 
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” he moved to give you a hug.
 You pushed him away, “You knew? How could you not tell me?” With every yell, you shoved him. But to your dismay, your brother is very sturdy and strong so it didn’t do much. 
Taking a pause from beating your brother with your fists, you sank to the floor and covered your teary eyes. 
“If you… if you knew that Yamaguchi liked Yachi why didn’t you say so? It would have saved me all this grief.” Your voice became quiet and everything was quiet. Until Tadashi entered the room. 
“Who told you that ridiculous lie?” Both you and Kei’s heads snapped up. 
“Yamaguchi, you were telling me about Yachi just 5 minutes ago!”
“You thought I was talking about Yachi-san? I thought you knew that I was talking about your sister.” He looked at you two like he does when he can’t solve a math problem.
“B-But you were just describing her perfectly” you sniffled.
He chuckled, kneeling to your level and holding your chin between his fingers. “Blonde hair? Your hair is extremely light, and in the sun it’s even lighter. You’re always cold and are always anxious, so your cheeks are constantly pink.” He gave you a small smile. “I’ve always had eyes for you.”
Before you started crying again, you pulled him into a tight embrace. Your brother took that as his cue to leave. Leaving you and Tadashi cuddling on the floor. 
“Hey, Tadashi,” 
“Hm?”
“I like you.”
He kissed your forehead, “I like you too, Y/N-san”
BONUS
He was pacing the corridor, thinking of all the ways the game could end today. He really didn’t want to screw the team over like he always does. 
“Yama,” you call out to him. He turns his head over to you, and for a second, he relaxes. You beckon him to sit in front of you. He obeyed. 
Bringing his face closer with your hands, you kissed one of his scars. 
“One for good luck,” another kiss, “One for strength. Another one, “One for all the worries to go away.” With every kiss of his scar, you reassured him that everything was okay. When you finished he pouted. 
“What’s wrong, hun?”
“You forgot one,” he tapped on his lips.
Chuckling you said, “Get us a win and maybe I’ll think about it.” That started your new pre-game routine. 
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basine · 3 years
Text
Chapter 1- First Sight (Axan)
Early in the morning…
Axan and Hedran were walking down from the top of the monastery winded from a class with Master Yolira, the orc monk. They walked in silence with huffed breaths as they reached the base of the mountain. These crumbling rocky steps wouldn't last long, Axan thought. Axan hoped that day would be soon because by the time all of the trainee’s made it up to the top of the monastery, everything already hurt. As Hedran and Axan walked down the path looking at all of the first years gathered for their tour of the church.
“Man, these first years look so young, huh?” Hedran said
“I guess. Maybe you are just getting older, Hedran. I was able to beat you in 9 seconds today. That is a new record for me.” Axan replied.
“That was just a fluke. You know Master Yo was training me extra hard today. Also, you used your stupid tail to knock me off balance, how is that fair?”
“Maybe as a monk-in-training, you should notice these signs before you fight.”
Axan loved poking Hedran. He got so mad it was kinda funny. However, this time Hedran brushed it off.
They continue down the path on their way to the cafeteria. They could smell the greasy meat as they got closer and closer. Axan was so hungry because he didn’t get a meal yesterday. He stayed at the top of the monastery to learn some extra tactics with his shield. He learned how to grant his magical energy to someone else for a brief time. This exchange of energy through his shield can help them protect themselves.
He wishes he was there that night.  That night when his father died. Why did it have to be him? Why did they do it? He was just a man living his life, performing for those who wanted a show. He died for it.
“Axan, you okay dude?” Hedran said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking of some things...” Axan paused and thought for a moment. “Did you ever regret anything, Hedran? Not like eating and drinking too much, but like… serious things?”
“Yeah I do… I really don’t want to talk about that though. It is something that brings up really bad memories.”
“That is okay, Hedran. I just wanted to see if I was the only one who thought about these things.”
Axan and Hedran walked in silence the rest of the way to the cafeteria. The walls were covered in snow and ice (per usual), which made the ground slick. Hedran saw a bunch of first-years slipping and sliding on the cobblestone ground as they entered the warm cafeteria. Hedran went to grab their lunch and Axan went to go find a table. He found a table at the south side of the cafeteria where he saw a few friends of his. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone besides Hedran at the moment. He was lost in his thoughts about many different things.
As Axan thoughts started wandering back to that night, Hedran plopped the trays on the table. Axan looked at the variety of colors on his plate. The rare piece of steak, the dark green beans, and the rustic looking mashed potatoes. Axan started to devour this meal until he heard Hedran sigh.
“Look at that group of people.” Hedran said pointing to the left.
At that table were a gnome, a goliath, an aarocockra, and an elf. They seemed to be locked in a match of lip wrestling at the moment. Axan sighed just like Hedran.
“You ever think that will be us someday?” Hedran asked.
“You mean like me and you. I told you…”
“No, not you, you dummy. I mean like finding love and all that ooey gooey shit.”
“I hope someday. I never really thought about a life after the monastery. I don’t know where I’ll go. I can’t go back home.”
“Of course you can Axan. The people of your town love you! You could go back anytime you wanted! Also, imagine all of the girls you will get because you will be an Official Paladin of Oghma.”
“Hedran you are sooooo off base. You know I’m not like that. I’m not into that sort of stuff. Would I like to get married someday, sure. But drawing myself in self-indulgences with bunches and bunches of women, no thanks.”
“Have you ever had your eye on anyone?” Hedran said as he slurped up some of his mashed potatoes.
“A few yeah. I had a crazy ex girlfriend a few years before I came here. She was super crazy. Like batshit.” Axan laughed.
“You’ve never told me about her! I demand some stories!”
“All in time Hedran, all in time. To answer your question, yes I have had an eye on a few women. It’s different you know, in here. They all seem so intimidating. Like they could beat the living crap outta me. Not that it is a bad thing. It’s just different. Any guys catch your eye?”
“Nah, no one here is into me like that. I’ve kept my sexuality quiet for the most part. They only ones who know about it are you, Master Yo, Koli, and Rooka.” Hedran said looking around.
The rest of the meal was uneventful. Axan couldn’t stop thinking about “love”. When would he find the one. When would he find someone who appreciated him as much as he appreciated them. That was his biggest downfall. High expectations. That and he is terrified of getting shot down. Axan would never admit that to anyone though. He couldn’t help but keep looking at the four of them and thinking about Thalia, his crazy ex-girlfriend who literally tried to burn him. Axan laughed quietly to himself.
Once the boys were finished with their meal, they started to head back to the dormitories. Still obsessed on the thought of love Axan stayed quiet. Which was really unlike him. He was getting too self-conscious at the moment so he tried to make something light happen.
“Hey, Hedran. How does an angel answer somebody who says hi?” Axan asked.
“I have no clue. Is this an attempt at a joke or something?” Hedran asked.
“They say… Halo!” Axan starting laughing.
Eventually, Hedran cracked a smile and even a little laugh. That is how Axan knew the joke was good. Hedran never laughed at anything that Axan did. 
“I finally got you to laugh at one of my jokes, angel boy. Who knew it would take such a simple joke to get you to laugh.” Axan exclaimed.
“Yeah,yeah yeah. It was kinda funny I guess.” Hedran thought for a second,” Doesn’t everyone say hello?”
“Yes, but it is different coming from an ang-” Axan was saying before he fell backwards.
Axan fell hard on his back and was covered in books. Why were there books? He wasn’t carrying any? He looked around and said that he bumped into a woman who was a first year carrying books. Axan felt really bad and immediately started picking them up. He was thinking about all of the things this girl could be thinking. “How stupid is this upperclassman, Shouldn’t he know that this is a first-year’s hallway”. Just thinking about it made Axan panic. As the woman was starting to stir Axan walked on over and helped her up. As she stood up he could see the half-elven features of her. The darkish hair, The semi-pointed ears, the little tiny freckles under her dark green eyes. Axan for the first time in his life, wasn’t thinking of anything. Time seemingly stopped around him. He couldn’t move. He wanted to hand the books over but he couldn’t. His arms wouldn’t move forward. The girl stood there perplexed and eyed Axan up and down. She let our the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen.
“Hello” she said.
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flawlesspeasant · 4 years
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Hi! this might be really random but i used to love ur jolex au's with lyla and alex. a question I always had about them is what was jo and alex's relationship with they first had lyla? were they in a good place? or was there drama at the time when jo was pregnant w/ lyla? do u have a fic of lyla's birth? i can't remember if u did or not? if so can u post it, if not its cool:)
hello :) the question is a little random but i love it! i love it when people still remember that little universe and hear that people were attached to the jolex kids! i think it’s so cute! anyway, when jo and alex first had lyla, they were in a pretty decent place. jo was starting her fellowship and alex was still chief of peds. they were newlyweds and still in the honeymoon stage, married for less than a year when jo got pregnant.
i really thought i had written a story about lyla’s birth, but i searched my old documents and can’t seem to find it so maybe i never did write one? if i stumble across it, i’ll post it but i really can’t find it right now. the closest thing i found is an old fic of jo holding lyla and getting emotional when she is two weeks old because she thinks about being left at the fire station that young.
————————
When her feet touched down on the fuzzy, soft fleece rug beside her and Alex’s bed, Jo felt the bones in her legs shift and crack. Her mouth opened and she uttered a loud, voracious yawn before rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands and stretching out her arms. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the bedside alarm clock and she sighed when she saw that it was only a measly 7:30 in the morning. She exhaled sharply, blowing air through her nose, and eventually stood up.
She wasn't surprised when she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Alex’s shift started at 8:15, so it made sense that he was already up and moving for the day. Slowly, she dragged her very tired feet over to her laundry basket and leaned down to grab the pair of pajama pants she wore last night off the top. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since she had gotten proper rest, two weeks since she fell asleep at a decent hour and two weeks that she had been living like a zombie. Two weeks and she still wasn't on a schedule. She didn't want to admit it to anyone, much less herself, but she doubted that it’d ever happen. If the baby wasn't on a schedule yet, she probably never would get on one.
Jo shoved her legs through the holes of her pants and tied the drawstrings around her waist as she walked towards the bathroom, all the while tugging her chest-length brunette hair up into a leisurely ponytail. Each time she yanked her hair up, she reminded herself to never cut it again. Growing it out was too much of a hassle. She cut it way back when she was still a resident and now, two-almost-three years later, it still wasn't back to its original length. Picking the sleep-induced crust from the corners of her eyes, she yawned again as she rounded the corner into the bathroom, which was already illuminated and occupied by Alex.
Alex stood at the sink feverishly darting a toothbrush in and out of his mouth while the foamy toothpaste trickled out the sides. He hardly noticed Jo when she eased into the bathroom behind him, going immediately to the toilet. When he did notice her, she was sitting on it and releasing her bladder. He rinsed his mouth, shut off the spigot and looked at her.
“Rough morning already?”
Jo looked up at him with a tired expression and just weakly nodded her head. She didn't like admitting to him exactly how tired she was but dammit, she couldn't lie. Alex secretly reveled in her being tired because well...Jo being tired meant he was right and Jo hated when he would look at her with that smug little “I told you so” look. He tried to warn her months ago just how tiring newborn babies could be. So she didn't listen to him? Big deal. In hindsight though, she was really starting to wish she had taken him a little more seriously.
She wiped herself, got up off the toilet, flushed and bumped Alex out of the way so she could wash her hands. Alex hung the small towelette back up on the rack and leaned in. He pressed his lips to Jo’s cheek and grinned.
“I'll go get her up for you,” he offered and turned to leave the bathroom, already dressed and ready for work.
“Just make her bottle,” Jo murmured back as she dried her hands on the same towelette he just hung up. “I'll get her.”
“Got it,” Alex nodded and padded down the hallway.
Truthfully, she envied him. She envied the way he didn't have to get up at ungodly hours of the morning for feedings because he got to go to work. And she secretly despised the fact that he didn't really need to be up right now. He could've slept in for another 20 minutes and still made it in time for work. The fact of the matter was that Alex didn't want to sleep in. He didn't want to spend extra time sleeping in the morning when he could get up half an hour earlier and have time to spend in the rocking chair, staring at his little girl. Jo wanted to slap him for taking sleeping in for granted but quite honestly, there was no other way Alex wanted to spend his time. He would rather miss out on half an hour of sleep just to have ten uninterrupted minutes holding and kissing his girl. It always made his day so much better. Secretly though? Jo loved him a little more each time she found that he’d woken up earlier just to spend time with their baby.
Once she left the bathroom, Jo dragged her still-tired feet down the long hallway and quietly opened up the nursery door. She was still getting used to having the nursery. For one, it was still weird having an extra bedroom in the loft. When she was four months pregnant, Alex had hired carpenters to install carpet and put up walls and a door to make a bedroom for their baby and it still weirded Jo out just a little to know that their was a bedroom in the loft, for one. And for two, it was still crazy to think that a baby--their baby--was behind the door.
Inside the nursery, it was dead silent and nearly completely dark with the only light spilling through the closed blinds hung in front of the window. Jo tiptoed over to the white wooden crib and placed her hands on the top bar. Before she even disturbed her though, she looked inside. And dammit, every time she did, she couldn't help but smile.
The bedding was light pink with white polka dots and around the perimeter, the crib was padded with soft Minnie Mouse themed lining. A loose, light purple, cotton blanket was the only one inside the crib since it was the middle of summertime and almost swallowed up in the sea of blankets, bedding and plush stuffed animals, a tiny little body lie.
Jo leaned down and oh-so carefully, she wrapped her arms around the tiny baby’s torso. Softly, the baby grunted at being disturbed but quickly rested once her head hit her Mommy’s chest. Naturally, Jo rested her baby’s body against her chest and supported her by bracing her hands underneath her tiny backside. It was her most favorite way to be held. She loved the immediate contact and the sound of Mommy’s heartbeat when her head was in the middle of her chest and the rest of her body was tucked away in Mommy’s arms.
“Good morning. I missed you. Yeah, I did… Mommy missed you so much.” Without hesitation, Jo tilted her head downward and planted a kiss right on the baby’s lips. “You wanna go eat? Huh? You want some breakfast? Okay… Let's go see what Daddy made you for breakfast.”
She walked slowly as she carried the baby back to the kitchen and living room. As soon as Alex caught a glimpse of Jo holding her in the doorway, he immediately put the bottle he was shaking down on the counter and approached Jo with his arms out, ready to take her. He anxiously glanced at the clock and grunted. He had fifteen minutes before he had to leave but that wasn't nearly enough. He wanted so much more time.
“Gimme,” he mumbled and gently but eagerly took the baby out of Jo’s arms. “Morning gorgeous,” he whispered to her and pressed his lips gingerly to her tiny little chubby cheek. He situated her in his arms like a seasoned professional and stared down at her like he usually did. He loved staring at her and watching her sleep. Each time he looked at her, there was something new. Something that he’d never seen before. Yesterday he noticed the freckle by her hairline, the day before that was the slight dimple in her chin. Each day, she got more and more beautiful. “Her hair’s different today,” he observed as he took her hand into his and rubbed it. “It's… It's lighter.”
“You think?” Jo raised her eyebrows even though she was over at the sink running hot water along the outside of the bottle to keep it warm. “It was looking pretty brown yesterday.”
“No, it's definitely lighter today. She's gonna be blonde,” Alex said with confidence as he pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. In his arms, she squirmed a little and her tiny face cracked up as her feet began to rub against one another. “Shh shhh shhh shhh,” he hushed her. “It's alright… Daddy’s gotcha.”
“You wanna feed her?” Jo asked as she approached the two of them again, still wiping off the bottle. “It'll give me some time to grab her a new diaper and stuff if you do.”
“Yeah I'll do it.” Alex took the bottle from Jo’s hand and walked with it, over to the couch. He sat down slowly and like he’d been doing it his whole life, he eased the bottle’s nipple into her mouth and held it there for her to suck. He truly was a natural at it. It was just something so easy and natural for him. It was almost as if he was born to do it. “There we go. That's all better, isn't it?”
While she sucked, the baby’s eyes slowly parted and they popped open. Her glassy blue/green eyes roamed a bit but eventually, they fixated on him and she looked directly at him while she sucked.
“Still blue,” he mumbled to himself, smiling before he spoke up. “Hey Jo, her eyes are still blue.”
Jo returned from the nursery with a diaper and a package of wipes in tow. She smirked and plopped down on the couch next to them to see for herself. Gently, she pressed her fingertip to the corner of her baby’s eye and cleaned out an eye booger. “They are still blue, huh? I don't know where the hell she came from. I’m starting to think she's not really my baby.”
“She's yours. It's all in the face. The nose, the eye shape, that forehead and those big-ass ears. All you,” Alex teased and Jo swatted him. “But she's a Karev. Got Amber’s blonde hair and Mom’s blue eyes… That's that Karev in her.”
“I had a blonde baby,” Jo snickered. “Me… Jo Wilson… Brunette hair, brown eyes… Produced a baby with blonde hair and blue eyes. What the hell is that?”
“Eh if she's anything like Amb, she won't be too blonde. It'll be borderline brown but blonde. Like a gold kind of color. And she won't have bright blue eyes… They'll be a little green too.” Alex just stared and grinned. “She's pretty.”
“She's beautiful,” Jo agreed. “Lyla… Lyla. Look at Mommy, baby. Look at Mommy.” Jo held her hand and kissed it. “...Can you believe it's been two weeks? She's two weeks old exactly today.”
Reluctantly, Alex pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed once he realized that it was time for him to get up and head to work. Since it was empty, he eased the bottle out of Lyla’s mouth and caught the excess milk she pushed out with the fabric of her sleeper. Despite the milk on her lips, he kissed them and graciously handed her off to Jo.
“There you go,” he mumbled. “She's fat, full and dusted eight ounces of boob juice. I've gotta go now though.”
“Alright,” Jo nodded and immediately placed Lyla on her shoulder so she could be burped. For as much as she worried about it while she was pregnant, Jo truly did turn into the idyllic mother. Everything she did was natural but at times, like last week at her check-up when she took her outside without socks on, she was a little bit clueless on what to do with a baby. She was getting the hang of it though. She was a quick learner. “Have a nice first day back. Call me on your lunch hour.”
“I will,” Alex promised and without another word, he disappeared out the door.
Now alone, Jo continued to rub and pat her baby’s back but she looked around the loft and sighed. It was his first day back. Ergo, it was the first time in two weeks that she’d be alone all day with the baby. She wouldn't admit it to Alex but now that she was alone, she could say it. She, was nervous and a little bit scared. Alex always knew what to do. He was so much better at this whole parenting thing than she was. If Lyla was crying, he automatically knew what it was that she wanted. He had been her backbone for two whole weeks and now…
She took a deep breath and relaxed. I can do this, she thought to herself. She carefully took Lyla off of her shoulder and immediately smiled once she saw that her eyes were still wide open.
“Hello!” she crooned in a sweet little baby voice. “Hi beautiful. Hi. It's just you and me today, yep. Just you and Mama. We’ll have a girl’s day, okay? We’ll stay up real late, paint our toenails… Talk about boys…” She gently laid Lyla down on the couch in front of her and undid her onesie buttons. “...I'm a little clueless, okay? I'm not as good as Daddy. But I promise I'll get it together. And we’ll have lots and lots of fun together, okay?”
Lyla just looked at her with an expressionless face. She kicked her feet a little and brought her fists up to her mouth, which made Jo laugh as she took her diaper off.
“You can't still be hungry. You're such a fatty.” Jo leaned over and swept a pacifier up off the coffee table. She stuck it in her own mouth for a moment before putting it in her daughter’s. “Here, take that.”
With the baby quiet and content, Jo relaxed and changed her diaper with ease. Admittedly, she was horrible at this at first. She’d put the diapers on backwards, put the diapers on too loose. Lyla’s buttcheek would be hanging out the bottom or she’d pee right through it because it was on crooked. These days, Jo was better though. She changed a nearly flawless diaper each time. Once she was fully clean, Jo scooped her back up, set the soiled diaper on the coffee table and situated herself to be comfortable on the couch.
“You wanna watch TV with me? Let's watch… I dunno, let's watch Rachael Ray. And you can look at all the stuff your Mommy will never be able to cook for you.”
Jo turned the TV on and let whatever channel it was already on play. With Lyla on her chest, she combed her fingers through her light brown hair with one hand and used the other to pat her butt. Lyla closed her eyes and sucked on her pacifier and listened to Jo’s heartbeat until she was on her way back to sleep.
Subconsciously, Jo’s thoughts were reeling and she remained blankly staring at the television screen whilst her mind was moving at a thousand miles a minute. Today felt… Weird. Today was different. And she knew exactly why.
Today, her sweet little Lyla was two weeks old.
And in this two weeks, she watched her baby go from a bloody mess with matted, slick wavy hair to a cream-skinned, chubby cheeked beauty with fluffy light brown hair. She watched her hands turn from a haunting shade of blue to the usual shade of blotchy red and Caucasian skin. She watched her eyes go from a glossy shade of gray to a haunting shade of blue. She watched her umbilical stump dry up and fall off, watched her become more familiar with her and Alex’s voices and watched her grow and change each time she was fortunate enough to get her to latch onto her breast for a feeding.
And now today… She was holding her on her chest and she couldn't imagine her life any other way. She couldn't imagine this… This bond being broken. It was incredible. It was unfathomable. The way she felt so connected to this tiny lump of flesh, blood, bones and hair. The way she would easily lie down and take a bullet through the brain for this person. The way she never felt something so strong. The kind of love she didn't even know existed until she met this little person. It was incredible. And today… Today was the first time that she just didn't understand.
In her entire 31 years of being alive, she had lost count exactly how many times she told herself and others that she didn't understand. Didn't understand how one child could have two parents that didn't love it. How a mother couldn't love their baby. How a mother could just leave. She told herself and others countless times that she just didn't understand.
But now, she really didn't understand. How could someone feel this and let it go? How could someone look into innocent little eyes and not feel so much love? How could someone just make the conscious decision to leave their child? And worse yet, go through with it? How could someone just...not care?
She couldn't imagine that. She couldn't imagine Lyla not being on her chest. After carrying her for nine months? After watching her body stretch and grow to accommodate this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty? After twelve grueling hours of labor? After feeling the doctors rubbing her dry on her chest? After watching Alex clamp and cut her umbilical cord himself? After looking into her pair of tiny little eyes and know that everything she ever did and ever will be affects her?
She was this small once.
Once upon a time, there was a little baby Jo Wilson. And at two weeks old, she wasn't snuggling and sleeping peacefully on her Mommy’s chest. No, at two weeks old, she was shivering. She was crying. In the middle of the night. In a stroller. With a blanket. Abandoned, discarded, unloved. That was her life at two weeks old. And for the first time in her entire life, she truly didn't understand.
With a single salty tear now rolling down her cheek, Jo pulled herself out of her thoughts and wiped it away with the back of her hand. She looked down at her chest, only to find that Lyla was now fast asleep and content to be so on her chest. And she smiled. Because her daughter wasn't her. Her daughter wasn't in a stroller next to a dumpster outside of a fire station abandoned and left to the wolves at two weeks old. No. At two weeks old, her own daughter was on her chest and that's where she would stay. For the remainder of the day, her daughter would stay right on her chest like this.
“I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to the top of Lyla’s fluffy patch of hair. “So much.”
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ren-val · 5 years
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Paint me from the drabble prompts for whoever it fits best?
OK so, you have given me the chance to choose, and I want to give my dear noble Necromancer, Maesta Renata, the chance to shine. She is of orrian descent and this is a bit of the story of how she turned from sheltered lonely noble to adventurer thanks to her 5 silly friends who decided to be the Heroes of Shaemoor.
Those 5 boys are a mashup of characters @disaster-bi-canach and I took from another IP and OCs we developed from that. We decided to move them to GW2 and have fun. HERE is a pic of them all.
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The night air was dense with smoke and unanswered questions. Most of the Seraph were quiet, focusing on their duty, and on the noble lady who had entered unanounced along with their Captain. They were observant enough to know that Logan Thackeray was more tense than usual, and that in spite of her gorgeous clothes, the lady had the sweet and metallic aroma of spilled blood all around her.
“A kidnapped noble and a bandit conspiracy in Salma’s district was not what I expected to come from your party, Lady Seserakh“ Logan stated, looking at his desk as if to distract himself of the matter at hand. “It was not my party, Captain”  emphazised Maesta, clearly annoyed at the mere idea “It was Lord Faren’s party, in honor of the heroes of Shaemoor“
Logan sighed deeply “So, a party when the guests of honor do not appear, and the host ends up in a bandit lair rescued by a necromancer. I must admit, it is way more interesting than the noble galas I am used to“ A small smile graced the lips of the noble, and she relaxed a bit, though her gaze didn’t lost its edge. The Captain finally took a file from his desk, and opened it so she could see it; on it were the documents of a dead Seraph called Mario Zeppeli, killed by the Risen years ago. “I assume you knew this man, and if not, I guess you know his eldest son. My men told me you were trying to court him months ag-“
“I was not!“ she exclaimed, the harsh tone of her voice contrasting to her exqusiite mannerisms “I-I mean… forgive me Captain. I… yes, Cesare. I used to be close to him. And as many nobles, I thought myself clever enough to make him settle down. I was foolish however, and I failed“
Her curt answer way too short to disallow suspiscion from the Captain. His eyes closed slightly, too tired for nimble wordplay, Logan decided to be blunt. “He was with me and other adventurers the day of the attack on Shaemoor, and now he is reported to be on Queensdale. But is was not alone: the intelligence you gathered says he and his relatives were the real targets of today’s attack. I need to know who they are, my Lady. I need to know if they are potential assets or potential traitors to Kryta“
Maesta glared at the Captain, but calmed down as soon as she felt the rustle of steel coming from the surrounding Seraph. She sighed deeply, and looked down, sadness making her limbs limp around her. “It is impossible, they can’t be traitors. If anything, they are some of the most noble men I have ever knew. Faren and I expected their return after their mother wrote them a letter, but it seemed they didn’t recieved it, or they just didn’t care…“
Logan felt the creeping sadness taking over her, little by little. The feeling of being forgotten was not something he knew well, but it was hard for him not to be kind, or at least trying. “That we cannot know yet, but there is something more important, my Lady: you said they were good men, but I saw two boys younger than any Seraph in the battle, and I want to know who they are“
He took his own chair and offered it to Maesta, kindly letting her sit and look over his desk. He also took some sheets of paper, along with pencils and a piece of charcoal. “As far as I know, most ladies of your upbringing know how to draw, am I right?“ Confused, Maesta nodded “Well, then I would like you to make a protrait of your friends, and tell me who they are, so I can track them down and ensure they come back home“
Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the melancholy that was shattering her heart, but Maesta accepted, and took the papel and the pencils, making five base models for portraits. While she was doing that, Logan took the liberty to ask for food and drink, and to assure that everything was in proper order around the headquarters.
When he looked back, he could see the portrait of two men on the paper: one was Cesare, the brave guardian that had fought by his side in Shaemoor, the other was a man with longer hair and a whimsical beard, his smile wide, even if his eyes did not reflect joy.
“You already know who Cesare is, the other is Julius. He is an engieneer, and its probably the leader among them all. He and the others are Cesare’s cousins, although they are all around the same age“ Lady Seserakh wrote their names besides their portraits, and added some shadows with charcoal “Julius wanted to be a Seraph once, but he did not enter, although he was in the Academy, and passed all his exams… he is too aware of his duties, and sometimes he can be bossy, but never tyrannical. He and his brothers have the weirdest laughs I have ever heard“ She stated, smiling softly one more time.
Silence engulfed them once more, and this time, Logan looked at Maesta working. A servant brought wine, bread and cheese, and he took the chance to drink and eat a bit before looking at two extremely dissimilar faces: the two boys he had seen fight. One was a lean lad, smaller than any of the other adventurers, his gaze cold as his gestures, strands of his hair falling across his forehead. The other was a larger lad, wide and strong, his long dark hair in a high ponytail. His features were round and soft, with thick lips and shining eyes that showed both serenity and a streak of melancholy.
“The twins. They are the younger of them all, if anything they must be fifteen by now“ She shook her head, stretching her fingers and looking up to the skylight above them “The little one is Alessandro, he is way too quiet and smart for his own good. Taking interest in all the secrets he can find; he loves to hear the stories of how my father and his espionage escapades. Even now, I am scared he is having some stupid ideas about being an information broker…“
The Captain frowned at that: although fifteen was way too young for anything, he remembered the traps well, along with the poisons that the scrawny kid had used against the centaurs. He sounded like a real handful, or a huge asset if he acted the right way.
But the voice of Maesta pulled him from his reveries, back into reality “The big boy is Salvatore. He is a real softie, somehow he adopted a Drake broodmother and befriended her. Ludmila lives in my house, a huge noble lady trapped in the body of a huge fire-spitting creature” The mental image elicited a soft laughter from her, but it died soon “He is too insecure to be out there killing centaurs and getting into trouble, if he is doing so it must be because of his siblings“
The murmur of pencils over paper suddenly filled the space between them; Logan had no idea why, but Maesta had started to draw with an extremely detailed pace. All protraits had a good amount of detail, but there was a depth of detail in the last one that almost shocked him. Long, silky strands of lighter hair, the steady gaze of someone whose thoughts were varied and deep, tight lips and the freckles of youth that somehow did not seem out of place on such a serious and somehow feminine face.
“The red haired mesmer…“ He whispered, marveled at the details of his face. “His name is Lorenzo“ the Lady said, not yet finished with her work “And yes, his hair is longer than any of them. He could be confused with a girl if it wasnt for his voice and the strak line of his jaw. Somehow I thought he was going to apply fro the Durmand Priory; he is very knowledgeable about magical theory… he wouldn’t be an adventure unless there was something new to know…“
A sudden dreamy look on her face appeared, lasting just a second before a nervous smile appeared “Alright, these are the men who fought by your side, Captain. I am sure you want these with the same amount of detail, so give me a moment and I will… you know…“ Her hands moved once more, drawing details that were not there before. Freckles and beauty marks, small wrinkles of laughter or frowns that were not there, details that only someone who loved those lads would be able to remember.
“How did you met them?“ He wondered aloud, noticing the change of guards and the bright moonlight in the center of the room. “We have lived in Salma for years; not only are we nieghbors, but their father is a doctor; he takes care of my father’s health as well as mine. His name is Gregorio, and he knew my dad when both were under service of the Sera-“
She stopped all of sudden, unable to look elsewhere but the paper. When she finally did, her gaze was full of anger, an accusation present in her deep frown. “Their father was a Seraph, he served in the Highlands along with Mario, and recieved and honorary discharge after his death. And I know that their mother had something to do with the Crown, Captain. There is no way you couldn’t know this” Her fists curled, but she did not reach out for her dagger. “You knew all of this, Captain. Am I right? Then why did you bring me here? Grenth’s breath I swear that if you don’t give me an answer I-“
“There is no need to get to angry, child“ A clear feminine voice broke the tension between them. A beautiful woman with exqusiite clothes had entered silently, and now walked to them. Her presence was powerful, even if she did not look as strong as any of the Seraph around her. “Logan knew the names and the faces of your friends, but there are many details that cannot be found in the files of a retired man. He needed information so he could decide if they are hero material, or just some silly boys playing adventurer“
An anwkward silence fell upon them, and it was the woman’s soft cough that made Logan break it. “Allow me to introduce Countess Anise, Master Exemplar of the Shining Blade, and personal counselor to Queen Jennah“ The womam gave a short bow, and Maesta stood up so she could return the gesture. She seemed confused, instead of angry, but her questions lingered in the night air.
“And may I know why someone of your rank is interested in this intel, my Lady?“ She asked with a hint of hesitance in her voice. “Because these lads of yours can be heroes for our Queendom. But to be honest, this is why our dear Logan is interested in them, as for me…“ she stated, looking at the portraits on the table “I am interested in arts. Especially the art of observation. I am marveled at your capacity for detail, Lady Seserakh, especially the depth of your knowledge about people. Also, the fact that you are one of the few non-sylvari Firstborn who has knows something about Orr doesn’t make me any less interested…“
Maesta blushed furiously, but her gestures didn’t betray her intentions. “I think you are talking to the wrong noble regarding social skills. Half of the court thinks I am cursed, and the other half can’t seem to forget that Grenth blessed me with something that terrifies them, and therefore ignores me as much as possible“
The dignity of her statements was broken by a chuckle of the Countess “I am aware of that, child. You are invisible and unwelcomed, far from intrigue, except for the times your dear friend Faren has been your gallant lad in distress. You are also a good book keeper, and your archive is impecable, as far as your dear father has told me. A silent shadow with amazing manners and a diplomatic streak…“ Anise breahted deeply, a proud and charming smile in her face “What I am implying here my dear, is that I am not just looking for intel on your dear friends… I am here to recruit you for the Shining Blade“
A moment passed. And the deep silence was not broken this time. Lady Seserakh lowered her gaze, deep in thought, she closed her eyes for a couple of seconds…
And then, she nodded.
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[eyooo its the fic abt the ask I sent! i didn’t even proofread this and I wrote it all in one sitting so, uh… enjoy!]
Tick. Tick. Tick. The hands on his pocket-watch moved so slowly that Miles began to question whether or not the April breeze had frozen them.  He pressed his back against the whitewashed schoolhouse, humming the tune from his mother’s music box. Perhaps, he thought, nervous habits could be inherited. He checked his watch again, positive that the lessons were running late. Surely it was at least ten past three- he had already waited an eternity. Reading the hands, he groaned. 2:57.  He closed his eyes, praying to hear Rose’s voice as she dismissed her students. He had to laugh a bit to himself- he never thought anyone could be more excited for class to end on a Friday afternoon than a student, but here he was.
The liberating handbell was music to his ears. Miles watched as students of varying ages flooded past. Young girls giggled when they saw him, whispering and cooing about “Miss Rose and her beau.” They had come to recognize the ritual he and Rose had accidentally created. Each afternoon, Miles would wait for the lessons to end. He would perform any repairs that the schoolhouse needed. Then, he would offer to walk Rose home, often carrying mountains of books. Sometimes, to the young girls’ amusement, all that he held was Rose’s hand.
After the last of the students trickled out of the doors, Miles entered the schoolhouse with a grin, waving away a cloud of chalk dust. He figured that stampede of children must have caused Rose to not notice his entrance as he watched her erase the chalkboard. He felt a smile grow as he watched her, marveling at how angelic she looked in the afternoon glow. Those bouncing, honey brown curls, cinnamon-colored freckles, her adora- He shook his head in attempt to clear it. He prided himself on being what seemed to be, at times, the sole rational person in his family. Lovesickness was completely foreign to him-but not exactly unpleasant. His smile returned as Rose turned to greet him, a bit startled. 
“Well, if it isn’t my personal carpenter?”
“And painter, and pack mule, and, as I see your students call me, your ‘beau,’” he teased back, leaning on her desk. Rose rolled her eyes, responding to his last statement with only a coy smile.
“Unfortunately for you, I saw a miracle today. Not a single student broke anything- even though Ronald Carson actually came to school for once!” Miles laughed and took her hand in his. 
“Miracle indeed. But if I don’t have any repairs to make, that just means that I have more free time- thatsomeone could spend with me.” Rose laughed- and what a beautiful laugh! -before nodding in approval. 
“And do you have any ideas how to spend all this time we have?”
Miles brought her to the open doors. “Well, it sure is a nice day out. I’d know, I waited out here for a century. How about a walk through Treegap Wood?” Before she could reply, he began to lead her outside, stopping just long enough to let her lock up the schoolhouse. 
•••
Miles felt a warmth in his chest as he watched Rose look upon the wood with adoration. Little did he know, he had the same expression as he looked at her. 
“I’ve lived in Treegap my whole life and I never knew how gorgeous it is here. It’s like in a fairytale, Miles!” she breathed, hardly more than a whisper. He knew these woods like the back of his hand- which she was now dragging him around by. He waited for her to stop and study yet another flowering vine. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her into a spin. She erupted into laughter, crying out “Miles Joseph Tuck!” He laughed with her, heart swelling with affection. The laughter came to an abrupt halt as a tree root caused the couple to tumble onto the forest floor.
Miles, returning to his typical self, began to fret and check to see if Rose had been injured. The only thing that had taken any damage was her immaculate bun, allowing more of her curls to frame her now flushed face. Relieved, Miles felt himself sinking back into warm, sappy feeling that was enveloping him before the tree root’s interruption. He mentally gave thanks that Rose was the only one seeing him in this state, then sat up, leaning his back on the tree trunk. Rose sat up, too, but then leaned against Miles, resting her head on is shoulder. His heart skipped a beat, her intoxicating warmth and floral scent chipping at his high boundaries. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her even closer. The fact that their parents would be far from happy if they caught them like this could be ignored for now. Rose melted against him as she admired the wood’s beauty. With each shared heartbeat, the thought of how much he wished he could stay in this moment for eternity echoed in Miles’s mind. For a brief while, he was at peace. 
•••
Jesse swung himself to another branch, searching for the perfect view. He settled himself on this branch and scoped out the forest. The scene was beyond familiar to him. He skimmed it, recognizing each sycamore like an old friend. Something broke the perfect stillness, drawing his eyes to the foot of a nearby tree. At first, he brushed it off as being two random lovebirds. Then, the realization hit him. Smiling devilishly, he made his way to a lower branch and hopped out of the tree. What kind of a brother would he be if he let this go on unsupervised?
•••
Miles lightly caressed Rose’s porcelain cheek, her soft curls tickling his fingers. His other hand was intertwined with hers. His eyes studied every inch of her delicate face as if this were the last time he would get to bask in her beauty. Adoration washed over him, and he tentatively leaned in, seeking to bridge the gap between their lips for the first time. Just as their lips were about to meet, they were interrupted by a youthful voice.
“Tsk, tsk. Shoulda known that we couldn’t have left you without a chaperone, Miles. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your girl- but I can’t help it if she changes her mind." 
Miles stood, furious. Rose stood up behind him, face glowing as red as an ember. 
"Jesse, I swear, if she wasn’t here, I’d kill you for this.”
“Heeey now, no way to talk in front of a lady!” Jesse shifted his attention to Rose. “Sorry about my brother. Jesse Tuck, how do!” Before Jesse could extend his hand, miles turned to Rose apologetically. 
“No, I’m sorry about him. Guess you’d have to have the misfortune of meeting him sooner or later.”
“Hey, I’m a blessing! You must be Miss Rose. Lemme tell ya, you’re all he talks about lately. Even when he’s asleep! This one ti-” Miles clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth. 
“Shut up, Jesse,” he said through clenched teeth. Jesse raised his hands in surrender. 
“Look, I see that I cant leave you lovebirds alone, so how about I stay, I dunno, 50 feet away and keep an eye on you? Or I could always tell Ma about all this and let her handle it…”
Miles stared his brother down, already planning revenge. 
“100 feet.”
“75. That, or hearin’ about this from Ma from eternity.”
Miles sighed defeatedly. 
“Fine, but I’m holding you to this.”
The brothers shook hands, and Jesse parted. Miles turned to Rose to begin damage control. He apologized furiously, not noticing Rose’s bubbling laughter. 
“Miles, really, it’s fine. It’s… sweet. I have to say, you must have a very lively family.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” he replied, his voice losing some of its gruffness. She scanned their surroundings, then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The two continued on their walk, albeit with Miles looking over his shoulder often. He began telling Rose stories of Jesse’s most interesting- and embarrassing- moments. As time went on, Miles relaxed, almost forgetting his brother’s interruption. The two rested by a creek, watching the golden sunlight seep into the water. They sat down together, exchanging soft smiles. Miles inched towards Rose, moving to wrap his arm around her when-
“HEY! I SEE YOU TWO!”
Miles jumped, then whipped around, searching for his brother. 
“Jesse. Tuck. If you don’t-”
“Up here!”
Miles looked up to see his brother grinning back at him from a high tree branch. 
“I TOLD YOU SEVENTY-FIVE FEET AWAY!” Miles bellowed. 
“Never said what direction!”
Miles, livid, ran to the tree that Jesse was perched in, prepared to climb up it himself.
“Hey, I’m getting down, I’m getting down! We need to get home for dinner, anyway.”
Miles, exhausted, turned to Rose, who was beaming. She found these squabbles endearing, an interesting change from the collected, rational Miles she mostly saw. He shrugged, then asked, “Well, it is getting late. Care to join us for dinner?”
Rose took his hand. 
“I’d love to.” Jesse landed beside them, and inerjected “Heyyy, keep room for Je-” He relented once he saw Miles’s icy glare. “…y'know, I guess I can trust ya, actually!”
Miles gave a slight smile, but his tone remained serious. 
“Enough to stay far away the whole walk home?" 
"Deal.” Jesse waved goodbye and hurried home. To him, Ma’s cooking trumped everything else. 
Miles squeezed Rose’s hand. “You do realize that if we marry, you’ll have to deal with him for the rest of your life, too?”
She wrapped her arms around him, smiling into his shoulder. 
“You’ve survived it so far, so can I. Unless you to kill each other, it’s free entertainment for me.”
Miles chuckled, pulling her closer. In that moment, he knew that she was the woman he could spend forever with. 
Hell. Yes.
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You Found Me
Title: You Found Me
Ship: Mike x Eleven
Word Count: 1,515
Summary: As you grow older, you learn small details about your soulmate and how you will meet. When Eleven is in danger, she uses clues about her soulmate to run away.
(A/N: lately it seems that i have only been enjoying writing AU’s, so here’s another one inspired by this post. enjoy!)
The first ‘clue’ came when Mike was twelve years old. He was playing D&D with the party on a typical Saturday afternoon. This campaign was one of the largest ones Mike had ever planned. He spent nearly two months writing, editing, and editing again. He wanted it to be perfect. They had started early that morning, skipping their usual routine of watching the Saturday morning cartoons. 
Lucas rolled the dice. “Yes!” he cheered. 
“You got to be shitting me!” Dustin cheered in shock. Will was smiling wide. Lucas had the perfect roll, and they had just barely survived. He saved the whole party!
The three of them turned to Mike. They expected to see a similar reaction from him --- his campaign was going great --- but his face was slack. Mike seemed to be staring off into space, focusing on something the others couldn’t see.
“Mike,” Dustin questioned. “The hell is your problem?”
Will gave him a look, and Dustin shut up. Will grabbed Mike’s arm. “Mike? You okay?” 
Mike was still for a long moment before he took a huge gulp of air and snapped up, breathing heavily. He scanned the faces of his friends, confused. 
“You good, dude?” Lucas asked hesitantly,
“Yeah.” Mike said. 
No, Mike thought. 
What had just happened? He remembered watching Lucas roll the dice. But when they landed, he blacked out. He seemed to be in a comic store. Not just any comic store, but the one in Hawkins. The one that he and the party go to all the time. Mike was just looking around the store, and then he was back in his basement with his friends staring at him weirdly.
Mike decided to just shrug it off and continue the campaign. 
“Alright,” Will said. “Back to business.”
---
The second vision came when Mike was thirteen. He was in class, social studies, when he blanked. He saw white conversed feet walking on a tile floor. This one was much shorter than the first, and if it weren’t the second time it happened, Mike would’ve thought he’d imagined it.
“Michael?” Mr. Clarke asked. Mike snapped awake. He blinked hard a few times, his vision becoming clearer. He saw his whole class staring at him. Mr. Clarke looked at him expectantly. Mike felt his cheeks grow hot.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Clarke,” Mike stuttered. “What did you ask?”
After class, Mike was almost out the door when Mr. Clarke pulled him aside. 
“Hey, Michael. I noticed you were distant in class today. Is everything alright?” he asked.
Mike bit his lip. “Um... everything’s okay.” he answered. “I just... It’s nothing.” He turned and started to walk away.
“Mike.” Mr. Clarke called. Mike stopped walking and looked at his teacher. He could confide in Mr. Clarke, right?
So he explained the visions. He talked about the time in his basement and then today. 
“This probably sounds crazy.” Mike told him sheepishly. 
“No, actually. It’s common.” Mr. Clarke said. “Just not this young.”
Mike was puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“In most people, before they meet their soulmate, they begin to have premonitions, or visions as you call them. It’s sort of a clue as to who they are or how’ll you’ll find them.” Mr. Clarke explained. 
“So you’re saying I’m about to meet my soulmate?” Mike asked incredulously. Mr. Clarke nodded, smiling softly at the young boy. 
“Thanks, Mr. Clarke,” Mike said before leaving the room with a grin on his face. 
---
Mike was sixteen when he got his job at the Hawkins Comic Shop. He loved working there. He got paid to catalog, stock, but mostly read comic books. But there was one particular reason why Mike looked forward to going to work.
Every time the bell atop the door to the store dinged, Mike felt his heart do a backflip in his chest. His eyes would dart to the doorway, hoping to see someone with white converse and (thanks to his latest vision) wide, bright brown eyes. But each ding of the bell revealed a customer who did not match any of the criteria. 
Until that one fateful November evening. 
Mike really just wanted to go home. It was pouring outside, nearly pitch black, and very cold. Who was going to come to the store at a time like this? The boss, Rob Carter (a nerdy old man who often left Mike alone at the store while he did God knows what) had been gone since just after Mike had arrived. Mike had been sitting at the register reading a copy of X-Men for nearly two hours. He could think of about a thousand other things he could be doing with his time, but---
Ding. 
Mike looked up from his book. A short figure, drenched with rainwater, and a face covered by the hood of a red jacket walked in. Mike did his usual routine of glancing down at the feet. He wasn’t too shocked to see white converse. He pushed down the nervous feeling in his chest. Lots of people wear white high tops. No big deal.
The figure walked to their left. A shelf hid them from Mike’s line of sight. Mike  craned his neck, trying to get a better look at them, but he had no luck. He tried to look back down at his comic until they were back in sight. But wait... What if they left before Mike had a chance to speak to them? He was debating whether or not to get up and speak to them, when the figure approached him at the register.
They pulled their hood down and looked right at Mike. The figure turned out to be a girl. A very distraught girl. She had a head full of gorgeous curls that hung down into her face and dripped onto the tile floor. The most startling thing about the girl were her eyes. They glowed a brilliant brown. He would recognize them anywhere. Those eyes haunted his dreams often. The only difference was now, they were filled with tears. The tears ran down her face and mingled with the dripping rainwater.
The girl opened her mouth to say something, but she choked on her words. Mike wasn’t sure what to say. 
“Um... Are you okay?” Mike asked with great concern, setting the comic book down on the counter and standing up. 
The girl shook her head. “N-No.”
Mike slowly approached her. She seemed slightly skeptical at first, but when he held out his hand, she took it. He led her to the back of the shop. He sat the girl down in one of the plastic chairs. 
“You must be freezing,” Mike told her. She nodded. Mike took off his sweater (thank God he always wore a shirt underneath them) and gave it to the girl. “I don’t have any pants or anything, but this might help a little.”
She sniffed and took the sweater from him. Mike walked to the door. “I’ll wait out here. Tell me when you’re done.” He went to shut the door, but she grabbed it, leaving it open a crack. He looked at her with those wide eyes, and Mike melted a little. He couldn’t help but wonder what this poor girl had been through. 
She walked away, and in a few long moments she returned, wearing the fluffy blue sweater. She seemed a little more composed now. She looked to him and said, “Thank you,” and Mike swore she almost smiled. 
“You’re welcome.” Mike said to her. “So. I’m Michael. All of my friends call me Mike, though. Whats your name?”
She revealed a tattoo on her wrist. 011. 
Mike held back his surprise. She was a little young for a tattoo, wasn’t she? 
“Eleven?” he asked. She nodded. 
“I know its weird.” Eleven said. 
Mike shook his head quickly. “It’s not weird. But I am wondering, why were you out alone in the rain?”
Eleven sighed. “I ran away.” 
Eleven went on to explain her dark past (with what vocabulary she had). She was raised by scientists who ran tests on her for years, before she was liberated and sent to foster care. She finally got tired of the horrible treatment of the foster homes, and ran away. 
Eleven told Mike that she had been getting visions, too. She followed the clues, which led her to the comic store. She had seen the store, the woods around Hawkins, and finally Mike. Mike with his freckles, dorky sweaters, and kind eyes. When Eleven saw his face, she knew she’d made it.
Mike explained to her what the visions meant and why she had gotten them. He told her that he’d gotten them too. That he’d been waiting for the day that she would show up.
"I’m so glad you found me.” Mike told her. “I promise I will help you find a safe home.  No more running.”
“Home?” Eleven asked, eyes welling up with tears. 
“Yes. A home.” Mike reassured her. And when Eleven threw herself into Mike’s arms, he was the one that never felt more at home.
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puthyflapps · 6 years
Text
Money Honey
@marcingestesmemes sent me this prompt today: “You asked for a prompt, so here’s my idea. In most of the fanfics, clexa is always on a superior social status. Whether in terms of money or power. Some of them have Clarke, but not enough. For this prompt, they are on equal footing. Clarke is new money rich, dad is a successful engineer/entrepreneur, mom runs a hospital. Lexa is old money rich, I’m talking Rockefeller type. Finger in a lot of pies type of wealth. The rest is up to you.”
Hope you enjoy
Send me more prompts and headcanons
Boring. That’s how these events usually were. Every year was the same. All of D.C.’s wealthiest families gathered together in the same posh building to spend one night together bragging about just how wealthy they were. The whole night was full of nothing but entitled, ultra-wealthy people, bosting about how much money they made that year or which ivy league school they bought their child’s way into. Old money or new money, it didn’t matter as long as you had it. And Clarke Griffin had it.
The 22-year-old was the sole heiress to her parent’s fortune. Jacob Griffin had made his money in engineering. The MIT Alum had formed his own company with close friends shortly after graduating from the prestigious university. In no time, the business had exploded. Griffin Tech Co. was now one of the largest engineering companies in the world. From cars to gadgets, to buildings, they were the go-to party. In fact, Griffin Tech Co. had constructed this very hotel that hosted these annual galas; a tragically ironic fact.
But, it is to be said that Clarke’s father isn’t the only breadwinner in the family. Her mother, Abigail, graduated at the top of her class from Johns Hopkins and is now the Chief of Surgery at one of D.C.’s most renowned hospitals – Griffin Memorial. Abby practically lived at the hospital. She lived and breathed surgeries. Clarke had spent so much of her childhood in the halls of that hospital that for the longest time she thought her name was code blue. Clarke had always admired her mother’s commitment to the job. To feel so inspired to do the very best every single day, to save lives and give the unfortunate a second chance was extremely admirable. Her mom was a hero to many including Clarke.
But Clarke, unlike her parents, saw herself as nothing more than average. She didn’t attend an ivy league school like her parents did. She attended a liberal arts school and she got average grades and had average friends and an average social life. That was the way she liked living. Although she had been groomed from the time she was a baby up until she sent off her last college application to be a doctor, that wasn’t what she wanted. When she had told her parents she wanted to be an artist they were less than enthused. Both STEM majors had taken their time explaining why they thought Clarke should reconsider. A combination of you’ll never be able to use that degree and honey, don’t you know that artists don’t make any money these days, had been tossed her way on more than one occasion. But, it had been her dream from the time she was a little girl drawing, pictures for the patients on her mom’s floor, to be an artist.
Perhaps, that’s why her parents dragged her to this ungodly event. To show her what she’s missing out on – which was nothing more than watching Chad from Kappa Delta talk about how many beers he could chug before puking while Amber from her old high school raves about how she and Gregory are expecting yet another baby and what a gift from God that is. If it wasn’t obnoxious, privileged young adults from the suburbs of D.C. spewing their ill-informed political views then it was creepy old men harassing her all night in hopes of somehow luring her to their bed. How on earth did her parents find these types of events fun? Maybe she would have fun at these events if her parents bragged about her the way the Donohouges bragged about how their son, Collin, would soon be taking over the family business. Maybe she’d enjoy herself a tad bit more if her mother went on about all her accomplishments nonstop like Mrs. Schultz did about her daughter. Maybe she would have the tiniest bit of a good time if her parents would just say they’re proud of her.
God, she needed a drink.
The only thing that made it worth stuffing herself into an uncomfortable cocktail dress that irritated her porcelain skin and designer heels that made the arches of her feet ache was the booze at these types of affairs. Rich people had good booze and this celebration was no exception. The ever-flowing champagne flutes and open bar set in the corner of the large ballroom was her only saving grace this evening. Now, to navigate her way through the crowd without getting trapped into a conversation with the Cohens about how Duke would love to have her in their medical program or how Mr. Turner would love to introduce her to his eldest son. Bracing herself, Clarke adjusts the straps of her black dress and turns swiftly on her heels in the direction of the bar. She marches quickly and precisely through the crowd, dodging questions thrown at her from her parent’s nosy coworkers and blocking any wandering hands and ignoring all lust-filled glances from strangers that would love to say they slept with the Griffin’s only daughter.
Nearing her destination, she can see the bar and the myriad of glasses littering its top. She’s so close she can almost taste the alcohol on her lips and feel the familiar burn in her throat from the delicious liquid. She has almost found her way into one of the several stools sat around the bar when something – or rather, someone – catches her eye.
She’s tall with broad shoulders highlighted by the expensive white material of her dress shirt. The fitted material of her black pants hug her hips and give Clarke a lovely view of her toned backside. Her chestnut hair cascades down her back in intricate braids as she stands behind the bar, back turned to the blonde as her gaze flows over the vast amount of alcohol available for tonight’s event. Clarke slides into a stool as she watches one of the brunette’s strong forearms rise up to the top shelf. Long, sinewy fingers wrap around the neck of one of the many bottles. A soft aha slips past the brunette’s lips as she brings the bottle closer for inspection before turning around.
Cerulean blue eyes meet startled verdant.
If Clarke thought the woman was attractive from behind, she certainly wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous she was face to face. The brunette had strong cheekbones and a razor-sharp jawline. Perchance, Clarke’s favorite feature of the woman’s face so far was her pillowy lips that if you looked close enough, had a small singular freckle adorning the top lip. She was absolutely stunning and Clarke now needed that drink more than ever.
The taller of the two women cleared her throat; placing the bottle of what appeared to be cognac on the table before breaking the silence between them.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. What can I get you?”
Lightly shaking her head to clear her mind of her less than proper thoughts about the bartender Clarke responds, “I uh, I guess I’ll have what you’re having.” The blonde notices the slight twinge of the brunette’s lip as she tries to hide her smirk. She watches patiently as the woman nervously prepares the drinks. The timid shaking in her hands as she filled the crystal glasses pulled at the blonde’s heartstrings.  
“So, what brings you here?” the woman behind the bar asks as she slides the freshly made beverage carefully across the bar top into the seated woman’s hand. At this moment Clarke truly wishes she would’ve taken more time getting ready this evening seeing as though there was still remnants of paint underneath her fingernails from today’s earlier activities.
“To the gala or to the bar?” Clarke asks around the rim of her glass before taking a long drawl of the drink.
“Hmmm, both?” the tan woman asks tipping her drink in the blonde’s direction before taking a swig of the dark brew.
“Well, as for the gala, my parents dragged me here. But, the bar, that was all my own doing. I don’t know if I can listen to another person brag about the size of their yacht one more time without being shit faced.”
“I take it, this isn’t your kind of crowd.”
“No, not at all” the blonde chuckles; her words laced with bitterness.
“Are you telling me that pissing competitions don’t excite you?” the brunette asks jokingly. Her smile growing wider when the woman in front of her rolls her eyes and lets out an exaggerated scoff. The taller woman moves to rest her arms on the bar top as the shorter woman takes another sip of her beverage and tries to ignore the fluttering in her chest. The bartender drags her jade eyes up and down the blonde’s body admiring the generous amount of skin shown by the lowcut dress. The brunette had encountered many types of women this evening but none as intriguing as the one sat before her with beautiful golden locks, ocean blue eyes, and paint-stained hands.
“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, what does excite you?” the double meaning of the question is not missed by Clarke who is trying her hardest not to blush at the forwardness of the golden skinned woman. When her mother and father told her about this event tonight it was the absolute last thing she wanted to deal with. She had no desire to attend an event where she was looked down upon and shopped around to all the single bachelors. But now, sitting here, drink in hand, gazing into the warm emerald eyes across from her, she’s starting to not regret making an appearance at this event.
Clarke downs the rest of her drink loving the way it burns her throat in that familiar way before leaning her torso against the bar and muttering, “mmm, why don’t you come out from behind this bar and find out.”
She watches the wheels turn in the nameless woman’s head; contemplating whether or not to take Clarke up on her offer. Undoubtedly trying to decide whether or not she wanted to involve herself in the mess that is the young heiress. But, Clarke is a little tipsy thanks to the free-flowing alcohol at the party and now she’s horny so waiting isn’t an option for the young woman.
“I mean if you’re not up to it I’m sure one of these former frat boys will do.”
The statement flips a switch in the brunette. Whatever reservations she had about hooking up with a stranger at this gala are thrown to the wind. She licks her plump lips in anticipation of what’s to come once she rounds the bar. Thoughts of what she is planning to do to the blonde flood her head causing heat to pool in her stomach. Would she take her in the bathroom or a nearby closet? Maybe they could score a room somewhere in the extravagant hotel. Who knows but, if she doesn’t figure it out soon she might just take her on this very bartop, in front of the ballroom full of guests with prying eyes. Just when she’s about given up on thinking anything out fully she hears the last thing she was expecting.
“Alexandria! What are you doing behind there?” asks the recognizable voice of her mother. The sudden addition of third voice startles the blonde. She turns in the direction of the voice and feels her heart drop to her stomach.
There in all her pristine glory stands Indra Woods. Indra Woods who is the CEO of Woods Inc., the largest company in North America and soon to be the largest company in the world. Indra Woods, whose family has made their money in the oil business and technology and everything else in between. The Woods family is worth billions. The Woods net-worth makes Clarke’s family look penniless – a task most might believe to be impossible.
“Mother, what a surprise seeing you here,” the young brunette, now known as Alexandria, states with a cheeky smile. Her mother didn’t seem to find the scenario as amusing as her daughter.  
“Why are you playing bartender and more importantly why are you bothering this nice young woman?” asks the older ebony skinned woman with a warm smile on her face as she subtly addresses the blonde.
“Oh, no. She wasn’t bothering me, Ms. Woods. We were just chatting about the gala.”
“Please, call me Indra. I was speaking with your parents earlier and they said that you’re an artist, is that correct?” the older woman inquires while Clarke attempts to pay no mind to the green gaze currently pointed in her direction.
“That’s correct ma'am”
“That’s wonderful. We’re thinking of expanding the digital division of the company and we’re looking into recruiting some graphic designers. I’d love to see some of your work and perhaps offer you a job at the company.”
“Oh wow, wow. Um, yes! Yes, I’d love that. Thank you so much.” To say Clarke was shocked would be an understatement. She couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face as she thought about the business woman’s proposition.
“How should I contact you?” asks the excited artist. The Woods matriarch smiles coyly before replying, “I’m sure Lexa can help you with that.” Casting a warning but, all together motherly glance at her daughter as a reminder to behave, Indra politely leaves the two women to continue on with their night.
“When were you gonna tell me you’re an artist?” Lexa asks when the blonde turns back to her. Clarke can’t help the laugh that escapes her lips at the absurdity of the question.
“Excuse me, when were you going to tell me that you’re a Woods? No, actually, when were you going to tell me you don’t work here?” the blonde asks feeling the weight of embarrassment settle on her shoulders as she thinks about how she just assumed the Woods heiress was a part of the waitstaff.
The brunette shrugs her shoulders as she smirks at the flustered woman before her. “I thought we were having fun.”
“I think you have a skewed view of what ‘fun’ is,” the blonde jokes.
“You might be right but, if you’re still looking for some excitement tonight,” Lexa replies, reaching into her pocket and producing a room key to one of the many lavish rooms in the 5-star hotel, “we could have some real fun.”
Clarke stares at the matte black key card perched between two tan fingers contemplating the offer before plucking the small object out of Lexa’s hand and whispering into her ear to grab the bottle of cognac they had previously been indulging in. They were gonna have some fun tonight.      
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Chapter 6: Mel & Tanya
Tanya was sitting at the bar, enjoying the homemade lemonade – Jamie made such a good lemonade it was insane. Lemons, lime, elderflower and mints. It was probably the most refreshing thing she had ever drunk. Sighing softly, she poked at the mint leafs in her drink with her straw.
“Wanna talk about your day, girlfriend?”, asked Jessie with a smile.
“It was exhausting”, sighed Tanya and looked up at the bartender. “It's just... work. A lot of work.”
“I gotta have a talk with Matt? I will have you know, I will have a talk with him”, warned Jessie.
Tanya smiled fondly and shook her head. Jessie was a wonderful person and one of the reasons Tanya had come to frequent the St. John's Pub. Though to be fair, both St. John siblings gave their regulars this feeling of home. They welcomed everyone and made them feel like they belong.
“Why the hell did you talk to my sister in ASL?”
Both Jessie and Tanya turned toward a frowning Mike. The detective looked very confused. Jessie leaned in, very intrigued in where this was going, casually wiping down the counter.
“Why not?”, countered Tanya, equally confused. “You told me she's mute.”
“...I never... what...?”, grunted Mike, confusion visibly growing.
“You said she can't talk”, disagreed Tanya, one eyebrow raised.
There was a stretch of silence in which Mike just stared at her blankly. “What... No. What. I said she can't talk to pretty girls. I didn't mean that she can't talk at all.”
“That makes no sense”, pointed Tanya out, a frown creasing her eyebrows.
“Mel is what others would call a useless lesbian. Only that she takes it to the extreme”, offered Jessie casually. “She is tongue-tied when a gorgeous woman talks to her. It's amusing.”
“That's ridiculous”, muttered Tanya and shook her head.
“I know”, sighed Mike. “But still. Wait. So... Why do you even speak ASL...?”
“My babushka, she went deaf... fifteen or so years ago? My whole family learned ASL.”
“Your Russian grandma in Russia went deaf so your Russian family in Russia learned American Sign Language...?”, questioned Jessie, both eyebrows raised high.
“Yes, my grandmother who immigrated to Russia fifty years ago to be with my grandfather and never let go of her roots in San Francisco and taught my father and me English, insisted that we learn American Sign Language”, replied Tanya with a neutral look.
“Oh”, hummed Jessie and nodded. “Cool. So, Mike, why does your sister know ASL?”
“I don't know. She was bored one afternoon and decided to learn ASL after binge-watching Switched at Birth because learning a new language is what that geek defines as a hobby”, shrugged Mike with an eye-roll.
“That is very impressive”, stated Tanya, eyebrows raised.
“Not when you consider she's fluent in like nine languages and can't talk to pret...”, started Jessie in a snarky voice before trailing off. “Wait. Wait, you talked to her? Like, had a conversation?”
“Yes?”, confirmed Tanya confused.
“That's it!”, exclaimed Mike excitedly, hitting the bar with his fist and startling the girls. “So, all we have to do is find a nice lesbian who's fluent in ASL for my sister and then it'll all work out.”
“I mean, it narrows down the pool, but...”, drawled Jessie unimpressed.
“Well, it's not like I know a lot of lesbians to begin with”, huffed Mike frustrated.
“I feel summoned. What are we talking about?”, asked Babs as she returned from serving beer.
“See. There she is, the only lesbian I know”, grunted Mike, vaguely motioning at Babs.
Blinking a couple of times, Babs hopped onto the bar, on Mike's other side. Tanya tilted her head and looked at the waitress. Babara was cute, in a dorky way. With the neon-green dyed hair put up into two pig-tails usually, lipstick and nail-polish in matching shades of magenta as always. She had very distracting boobs, if Tanya was being honest.
“And... why exactly isn't the only lesbian you know a match for your lesbian sister?”, asked Tanya curiously. “Does it have anything to do with the fact that lesbians do require more than just shared sexuality to work out as a relationship...?”
“Eh”, huffed Mike with a dismissive hand-gesture. “No. It's that Mel's a college professor and Babs is her student and that's a total no-go for Mel. So, Babs is out of the game. I mean, I had hopes for Jessie, but... straight people exist.”
Babs opened her mouth to answer, but Jessie beat her to the punch. The barkeeper lifted a hand to silence Tanya before leaning forward against the bar, leveling Mike with an unimpressed look.
“Don't tell me you forgot sexuality isn't black and white. Straight and gay. We literally got all the colors of the rainbow to play with, you know?”, chuckled Jessie. “Remember when I told you I'm not interested in women? Let me guess, you concluded I'm straight.”
“Well... something tells me you aren't. And that something is the judgmental look on your face”, offered Mike, sitting up with a frown.
“I'm not interested in women. But I'm also not interested in men”, replied Jessie with a shrug. “I identify as aroace. Aromantic and asexual. I aspire to become an old cat-lady.”
“Right. That's a thing. I saw it on that show Mattie loves watching so much”, muttered Mike embarrassed. “Never heard of it before. So I kinda... didn't... think about it.”
“Why am I not surprised that the gay archer who loves his men tall, dark and handsome watches Shadowhunters?”, mused Babs teasingly, kicking her legs back and forth. “I bet he has a total crush on Alec Lightwood. He does, right?”
“I'm not talking about that with you”, grumbled Mike frustrated.
“What did you girls do to him? He looks miserable.”
Tanya rolled her eyes just a little at how much Mike's face brightened up when Jamie poked his head out of the kitchen. His shoulder-long, light-brown hair was pulled up in a bun, some strands falling into his freckled face. Mike stared at him like he really wanted to brush the hair out of Jamie's face and then trace the freckles. Honestly, Mike and Matt were pretty pathetic. Jamie walked over to Mike and put a container with most likely two burgers and fries down.
“Thank you, Jamie. You're a life-saver”, sighed Mike. “I'm starving and me and Rick are gonna be busy throughout our break too probably...”
“Can't let our police-force starve”, chuckled Jamie, amusement in his dark eyes. “Make sure to take better care of yourself though.”
Mike just nodded, looking after Jamie as the cook disappeared back into his kitchen. “Anyway. I should get back to work. See you around, Tanya?”
“As always”, sighed Tanya, waving dismissively as Mike left the pub.
She raised both eyebrows as Jessie and Babs seemed to be zooming in on her. Jessie cocked her head in a nearly judgmental way and crossed her arms over her chest, while Babs grinned.
“So, why didn't you mention that you're not straight?”, asked Babs teasingly. “Mel not your type?”
“For one, I don't make a habit of flaunting my sexuality in everybody's face”, grunted Tanya unimpressed. “And for another, I will not be used by Mike to be set up with his sister. She seemed nice and all, but this is not the way I will find a partner.”
“Girl”, sighed Jessie, both eyebrows raised. “You're already fishing in both ponds but you're still single. I don't think you have a way to find a partner.”
“I will not be sassed about my lack of love-life by you, of all people”, huffed Tanya.
“Oh come o—on, it's like one of life's joys when you're ace”, pouted Jessie.
~*~
Melanie straightened her glasses as she put another paper down. She was getting good work done today. Maybe she'd even finish grading them all today. That would be nice.
“Hello, Melanie. Your hair looks nice today.”
...That would be it for her papers. Sighing, Melanie looked up at his brother's obsession. “James.”
James St. John was a handsome man, though Melanie attributed that to the fact that he looked a lot like his younger sister Jessica. Pale, freckled skin, lean body, soft, brown hair and dark, green eyes. They also both had that same smirk, filled with mischief and something foreboding. James grinned pleased at Melanie as he got comfortable on the seat opposite of hers.
“I was wondering if maybe you could do me just the smallest, tiniest favor, perhaps.”
“What is it?”, asked Melanie with a heavy sigh.
She liked James alright. He was kind, amusing and a brilliant cook. On top of it all, she knew what a huge crush Mikey and Matt both had on the guy. And there was one thing Mel had always been, supportive of her siblings and accepting of their love-interests.
“You know the kids who always come here for warm meals?”, asked James carefully, a serious look on his face. “Their names are Ally and Andy. They're orphans. Ran away from the same foster-home together. And, well, at first... it was just warm meals. Then a dry place to stay and... they kind of stopped leaving and the guest room kind of turned into an actual bedroom for them and now I'm fighting my way through the process of becoming a foster-parent. And, well, I figured it'd leave a better impression if I'd actually get the kids back into school.”
“That's... very admirable”, nodded Melanie surprised. “And... what kind of help do you need?”
“It's...”, started James before he sighed and rubbed his face. “Ally's fourteen. Andy's nine. They're... behind. They've been living on the streets for over a year now. And honestly, I'm... lost. I dropped out of high school for a reason. I ain't that kinda person. Neither is Jessie. You're a figure of authority, you're a teacher, you're passionate about learning. I've heard you rant to Babs about it. I thought maybe... you could talk to them? From a different perspective.”
Melanie frowned. This was not exactly what an English literature professor did, but she could see the despair in Jamie's eyes. He was clearly frustrated and clearly trying his best. And it wasn't like she didn't understand where he was coming from.
“Okay. How about you introduce me to your young charges and I'll see if I can help?”, offered Mel.
Jamie offered a grateful smile before he got up and left for upstairs, where Jamie, Jessie and Babara were living. Moments later and he returned with two kids. The girl older, with long, tight curls and Polynesian features, skin a light shade of nougat and eyes guarded as she glared around the room. The boy next to her was younger than her, he was black, with short hair and what looked like lightning-bolts shaved into the side of his temples.
“Guys, this is Melanie. She, uh, offered to sit down with you and see if she can help with your school work”, introduced Jamie, one hand on the girl's back.
“Hello, ma'am”, greeted the boy, holding his hand out to shake hers.
“Such a polite young man”, smiled Melanie, biting her lip as she shook his head.
Jamie grinned brightly at that and shrugged. “I'll leave you to it.”
Ally glared wearily as she sat down opposite Melanie. She was wearing a hoodie such a pale shade of red that it matched her coral-necklace, her hands buried deep in the front-pocket of the hoodie. She was it like armor, Melanie was more than familiar with that. Compared to Ally, Andy seemed far more open and also eager, leaning forward curiously.
“So, the two of you don't want to go to school?”, asked Melanie.
Andy opened his mouth to answer, but a side-glance from Ally made him close his mouth. Melanie offered a wry smile and leaned back, pushing her glasses up as she watched them for a long moment. Andy had large, soft-brown eyes, making him look innocent and inquisitive.
“Okay, I have two theories here”, started Melanie slowly after a few minutes of watching the siblings and their body-language. “Wanna hear them?”
“Whatever”, muttered Ally dismissively.
Melanie hummed and tilted her head. “One is the fact that James isn't certified as a foster-parent yet. Going to school means settling it. It means growing comfortable here, to make friends. But if James won't become your foster-father after all, you'll have to run away again. And running away hurts more when you have someone to leave behind. Friends.”
Ally stared at her surprised, then wearily. “It's... not that we don't trust Jamie. But the system's rigged and I don't need to try if it's just gonna be a waste of time.”
“I get that”, replied Melanie and nodded.
“Right”, snorted Ally, slipping down further in her seat.
“I'm an orphan too, you know”, hummed Melanie casually, tilting her head. “But I was already eighteen when my parents died. But my younger brother, he was... he was about your age, Ally. He was thirteen back then. And our younger sister was ten. I had to fight to get to keep my siblings. Social workers didn't think an eighteen year old girl would be able to take care of two children, work and go to school. My younger siblings acted up, because they were afraid too. They were afraid to be taken away and they didn't know how to cope.”
Ally slowly seemed to relax a little bit. “So... how... did they cope?”
Melanie shrugged and tilted her head. “They had to trust me. I... One night, they found me crying in my room, because I really, really didn't know how I could do it. I thought I wouldn't be good enough for them, because they were acting out, that maybe it would be best for them if they got a second chance with someone who could be a parent for them. I was trying my best, but I was all alone and I didn't know how to do this because I had never done this before. That night, they realized that... that they were afraid and hurting, but... so was I. Just because I was older than them didn't know I really knew what I was doing.”
“And what did they do then?”, asked Andy, leaning forward so much on his chair, Melanie feared the boy would just fall off any moment. “Could they help you? Did it work out?”
That made Melanie sigh and shake her head. “Mikey, my brother, he... wanted to actually help. He thought that he had to do something, so he suddenly decided he had to work beside school and help out. But that's not... The way you can help is by listening to James. What he's saying about school is right. School is important and if he can show off that he has you enrolled in a school, integrated into the community, that he's taking care of you, it will make him look better. I understand that unlike me, James isn't alone in this. He has his sister and I believe Babara certainly helps out too, but he'll really rely on you two being cooperative. You want to stay with James, right?”
Both children nodded at that, still looking at her like she held all the answers in the universe. Ally bit her lips and looked at Melanie wearily, like she was trying to sort her thoughts to ask a specific question. Melanie slowly took a drink from her tea, patiently waiting for Ally to be ready to ask whatever it was that was on her mind. They were good kids, both of them.
“What... happened with your siblings?”, asked Ally finally. “Did they get to stay with you?”
“They did”, confirmed Melanie with a small smile. “We... worked hard, together, to make it work.”
“And what do they do now?”, wanted Andy to know eagerly. “Your siblings?”
“Mikey is a cop”, replied Melanie, smile growing with pride. “He's a regular at the bar too. You surely have seen him around before. He looks really grumpy very often and has black hair like me.”
Andy's mouth formed an o as he nodded. “And your little sister?”
Melanie's face fell some as she blinked. “Mack... She's living in New York. Sadly, we don't have a lot of contact anymore, because she lives so far away, but I'm sure she's very happy with her life.”
Ally looked skeptical, like she didn't believe a word Melanie was saying. In the end, the girl allowed Melanie that little lie and just got up from her seat, motioning for her brother to follow.
“Come on, Andy. Let's see what Jamie's doing in the kitchen. I'm hungry”, hummed Ally.
“Oh, yes! Burger!”, demanded Andy excitedly and rushed past his sister.
Melanie smiled fondly but sadly as, for just a moment when she looked at the two children, she felt reminded of Michael and Mackenzie all those years ago. It's been a long journey for them and it was going to be a long journey for Ally and Andy, but considering everything Melanie knew about the Saint John siblings, she knew Ally and Andy would be fine with them.
~*~
Tanya wanted to get a head-start before going over things with Mike and Matt. They needed to meet to discuss what to do. They had superpowers, supposedly so, they had a kind of duty. What to do with it, that was what the three of them had to decide.
Tanya was so tempted. Aquarius had already shown her that this whole deal came with a costume. Only later did Aquarius tell her that she could or should have gone for armor. Instead, Tanya had gone for fashionable. A short, sleeveless dress made out of dragon-skin that actually looked like the scales of Aquarius – a matching shade of turquoise. It was tight and short, giving her more room to move. And it had a cape, because heroes had capes, okay? The high heels on the boots were most likely not the most effective things, but she hadn't walked in flats in at least ten years, so that would be even more impractical for her personally, so there was that. At least the costume was heat-resistant because it was dragon-skin. No dragons had been harmed in the making of it though, since it was all magic. But at least that justified the cape some, because she could use it for hiding from fire and extreme heat. Generally, she loved the costume her subconsciousness had come up with.
The weapon that had come with it though...
A broad-sword with a zig-zagged blade. A vicious thing. Tanya did like how impactful it was, but she wasn't entirely sure about wielding it just yet. She could make it work, because she did know how to use a sword, at least the basics of it, it was just different from any sword she had ever worked with. She had studied the blade, sword-dancing had been a hobby of hers as a teenager.
“Okay. Teach me about my powers”, requested Tanya seriously.
Aquarius tilted her head curiously. “You do want to become a hero.”
“Yeah”, confirmed Tanya hesitantly. “I... suppose so. This power wasn't granted to us for us to stick our heads in the sand... And at the very least, I want to know what I'm capable of.”
Tilting her head into the other direction, Aquarius nodded pleased. That dragon was way too cute.
“There are twelve Zodiacs. They're assigned to the four elements, three Zodiacs hold powers of each element”, started Aquarius and stretched out, resting her chin and her front-paws on Tanya's lap to make her scratch Aquarius' head. “Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn are the signs of earth, Sagittarius, Leo and Aries are the signs of fire, Cancer, Pisces and Scorpio are the signs of water and Gemini, Libra and I are the signs of air.”
“Right. So, who was drunk when they decided that the literal water-bearer should be assigned air?”, asked Tanya with a frown, scratching Aquarius behind the ear.
“I'm a water-dragon”, chimed Aquarius. “I spit water, not fire. And I am a dragon. I fly. Air. So, it's a bit mixed. Guess that led to confusions. It's why one of your predecessors had such a weird myth around her birth. With the whole daughter of the sky – air – and the ocean – water. Which, I guess, works as me creating her to be a hero.”
“So, what powers do I have?”, asked Tanya, frown deepening even more.
“Air”, hummed Aquarius, relaxing under Tanya's fingers and making purring sounds.
“What does that even mean?”, sighed Tanya and leaned back on her couch. “Fire, water, even earth, they all seem to have some nice possibilities. What can I do with air?”
“Many of your predecessors could fly”, offered Aquarius casually. “Air is everywhere. You can do so much with it. The only limit is your imagination. You can manipulate the molecules in the air. You can solidify it, or thin it out until it's hard to breath. You can manipulate the temperature of the air, really, there is a lot you can do with it. You just have to... try.”
“Okay. Let's maybe not start with flying”, suggested Tanya concerned. “I feel like it would not end well if I'd jump off a building right now. The rest sounds interesting enough to work with. How?”
“I don't know”, hummed Aquarius with a yawn, closing her eyes. “Concentrate. Just do it.”
“...That's not helpful”, sighed Tanya, the frown returning.
“How would you explain breathing to someone else?”, shrugged Aquarius. “It's that. It's... It's just something you can do. Something I have always been able to do. It's... Just do it.”
It would be easier to be irritated if Aquarius didn't look this adorable when pouting. Sighing, Tanya continued scratching Aquarius behind the ears until the dragon fell asleep in her lap. Okay. Just do it. It couldn't be that hard. She just had to... do it. Somehow.
Maybe if she approached it like a mime? Solidifying air by forming it. Closing her eyes, Tanya focused on visualizing it. Visualizing firm, solid glass beneath her fingers, instead of air. She pressed the flat of her hand against nothing and kept concentrating, until... until it was solid. Her eyes snapped open as she stared stunned at the air. There was nothing visible, but the air still felt like it had turned into solid glass. Removing her hand, Tanya kept staring. Tentatively, she knocked against the air – and it actually worked. It was still solid. Okay. She could work with this.
And fighting supervillains with actual superpowers seemed far more realistic than simply with a sword. Maybe they could do that. She wasn't sure of it just yet, because the thought was scary, but... there were villains, literal villains, hurting innocent people. And the three of them belonged to the twelve only people on the planet who could do something. They had to.
~*~
“Okay. This feels utterly ridiculous, Taurus”, sighed Melanie softly.
“It only feels ridiculous because you had to go to your brother's place to find a big enough plant”, pointed Taurus out.
Melanie grumbled, her cheeks flushing. She wasn't good with plants. Apparently, that was now going to change, thanks to her Zodiac and his powers. Or at least, Taurus said so. Melanie wasn't quite sure – which was why they had gone to Mike and Matt's. Melanie knew the couple weren't home, they would be gone the entire weekend, staying at Matt's parents'. And Melanie had a key to their gorgeous Victorian-style house. She loved that house a lot. Two stories, an attic, a basement, a backyard and winter garden. Sure, Matt was rich, it figured he wouldn't want to live in a shack.
She often came to their house, even when they weren't home. Neither of them had a problem with it, Matt had an actual library and it had proven very useful for work. Also, Melanie just felt happy when she was surrounded by books, so there was that.
There was the master bedroom, the office space and two more bedrooms on the first floor, aside from the library. One of those bedrooms belonged to Matt's little sister. She regularly came to stay for a weekend in Los Angeles with her big brother, or spent the holidays, so Matt and Mike had simply converted one room to be all hers. And she loved it. The other bedroom was a guestroom, where Melanie found herself staying regularly too. Sometimes because she worked too long in their library and forgot about time, other times she would stay over after a movie night or something.
But what Melanie was seeking out was on the first floor. Oh, Melanie really did love this house. A sitting room in the center of the first floor, connected to the guest bathroom, the kitchen, dining room, living room – and the winter garden. Which was exactly why she was there today.
“Okay. Tell me what to do”, prompted Melanie with a frown as they reached the winter garden.
It was a long room, with window-walls all around. Fresh beautiful flowers and plants all over, as well as four deckchairs. The sun perfectly fell into the winter garden. Matt liked laying here to read, Melanie knew that. She had spent hours laying with him, enjoying the sun on her face and the book in her hand. She was getting along really well with her future brother-in-law. Something she was eternally grateful for, because the idea of not getting along with the person her brother loved...? Horrible to imagine. Coming here as she pleased, spending time with them both.
Taurus was standing awkwardly between two small palms, ducking beneath them. He wasn't tall, reaching just above Melanie's hips. His fur was a soft mossy-green and had the soft texture of moss too. His horns were massive and curved, a lush, emerald green just like his eyes and the symbol on his forehead – the symbol of Taurus. He ducked his head further, nudging a potted plant.
“Take the leaves between your hands. Close your eyes and focus”, ordered Taurus.
“Focus on... what?”, asked Melanie with a frown, caressing the plant's leaf.
“The plant. The life inside”, suggested Taurus. “Feel it. Like... another presence. Like another person in here. You can talk to it. Control it. Make it grow.”
Melanie frowned, clearly annoyed and frustrated. How could she make something grow? By... imagining it? She had never been a very visual person, she was better with words.
“The thick, green leaf, a soft color because it was still so young, it was strong. Strong enough to grow”, muttered Melanie beneath her breath, imagining it. “It could grow stronger, bigger. It-”
She startled and opened her eyes to stare at the plant. The thick leaf had grown, was now nearly twice its size. Okay. That was interesting. Tilting her head, Melanie tried to influence the plant – and the leaf turned into the direction Melanie wanted it to. Smiling softly, Melanie caressed the leaf. It felt... happy? Why... How could she feel a plant? Oh, this wasn't good. She was already vegetarian, if she could now communicate with plants, what was left to eat...?
“This is amazing, Taurus”, whispered Melanie. “With this and the suit and the additional strength that you can give me... I... I could actually do something. Be... a hero...?”
“Of course. That is precisely what I have been saying since the beginning”, confirmed Taurus.
The two of them talked animatedly with each other, Melanie being lost in all the possibilities of her powers, until suddenly, she had a steak-knife to the throat. Okay, she definitely needed better reflexes if she wanted to be a hero. With wide, frightened eyes did Melanie slowly turn around to face her attacker. Tanya Tarasova stared at her threateningly until recognition set in. Her eyes widened in surprise before the blonde backed off and essentially dropped the knife.
“Ni figa cebe!”, cussed Tanya as she slowly calmed down. [trans, Russian: holy shit]
Melanie just stared at her in surprise. Tanya took a deep breath, just to freeze and stare wide-eyed... at the large, green bull. Oh. Melanie gulped. This was super not going according to plans.
“That... you are a...”, whispered Tanya in disbelief.
She ran her fingers through her sunny-blonde hair, disheveling it a little. It was so perfect and exactly in place, but some strands falling out of the bun also looked really good. Melanie blushed.
“Taurus!”
Melanie jumped. The sudden high-pitched female voice startled her. So did the bright, turquoise light. It was what happened next that nearly made Melanie faint. A dragon. A real-life dragon. Sitting upright, it reached easily up to her waist. And it was utterly adorable. With dots all over, shades of turquoise and two zigzag lines on her forehead. The dragon yelped happily and jumped on top of Taurus, hugging the green bull. Taurus tilted his head, nudging the dragon.
“Aquarius. What a nice surprise”, hummed Taurus gently.
“Wait. Aquarius. Like. The Zodiac?”, blurted Melanie out, eyes large.
She turned to look at Tanya in surprise, though the blonde was just staring at the bull. “Taurus. Wait. That means... you have a Zodiac companion too? Oh, that explains a to. Mike's been complaining that you've been behaving 'weird'. It's because you have a secret.”
“Well, you have a dragon!”, exclaimed Melanie, pointing at Aquarius. “An adorable dragon, but a dragon! H—How...”
“Oh, I like her. She said I'm adorable”, declared Aquarius pleased.
Tanya just shook her head. “Matt and Mike are not going to believe it...”
“We can't tell them!”, exclaimed Melanie. “I can't drag my baby brother into this!”
“I'm sorry, but it's kind of too late. The snarky, blue crab dragged him into it”, chuckled Tanya, eyes twinkling. “Mike and Matt have companions too.”
“...Is that why Mike has been so distracted lately?”, whispered Melanie in realization.
“Yes”, confirmed Tanya, an amused smile on her lips. “This is going to be good. But wait, what are you doing here...? Matt and Mike are visiting Matt's family.”
“I know. I... uh... I have Earth-powers and... wanted to test them, but I don't own any plants”, admitted Melanie a little embarrassed, cheeks heating up.
“You don't own a single plant?”, asked Tanya, laughing softly.
“Oh, shut up”, grumbled Melanie flustered. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm Matt's assistant. I often come here, to drop off documents from work or get stuff he leaves here for me”, replied Tanya with a shrug. “He called me, told me he signed some important stuff before him and Mike left and that it was in the office.”
Melanie nodded and sat down on one of the chairs. Tanya sat down next to her, looking mainly amused. This was a lot to digest. She just hoped she'd have it digested by the time her brother returned home from his weekend trip. And in all the excitement, she didn't even really register that she had just spoken to a beautiful woman without stumbling over her own words...
Read here on AO3!
Previous Chapter <- || Masterpost || -> Next Chapter
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caxvb-blog · 6 years
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Freckles
Today, my 6 year old sister sat at the dinner table and burst into tears because at school she was told she was ugly. More specifically, she was told she was ugly because of her freckles. Gorgeous, sun kissed splotches of individuality spread equally across my beautiful sisters face was something she will now look at with different judgement. For the first time ever, I saw insecurity in its purest, most vulnerable form. To target a girl so young, so naive, so quick to take what she hears as facts rather than opinion and tell her the most unique part of her was the same part that made her unsightly was astonishing. It broke me to see her teary eyes look up in my direction and ask politely with her crushed voice if I found her appearance undesirable. I told her as gently as I could that she was possibly the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. Most importantly, I told her that her freckles were the most rare and precious things I had ever laid my eyes on, and promised her that one day the people telling her that her freckles made her ugly would be the same people drawing them on out of longing for freckles of their own. She looked up at me, bright-eyed, and through the tears managed to show me a wide smile. 
Tomorrow, my 6 year old sister will wake up, look in the mirror, and continue her path through life knowing she is beautiful, and that the little things that make her unique is what truly defines her beauty. 
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The Less I Know the Better Part III: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus
Part (III/?): Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus
“Hey, Peter!” Happy yelled out as Peter entered the lobby.
“Hey, Happy!” Peter confidently strutted towards the two men, journal and pen in hand.
“This is your tutor, Wade,” the man turned around and stopped Peter in his tracks upon seeing the mystery man’s face.
Wade Wilson was perfect. He had piercing green eyes, a defined jawline with a bit of stubble on it, sharp cheekbones, small freckles across his perfect nose… brown messy hair… he was 6'2 at least and his biceps were threatening to rip out from under his tight misfits shirt.
“Hey man, what’s up?” The man put out a fist. “The name’s Wade, bump it.”
Peter gave the mystery man an awkward fist bump. “You’re a teacher? Aren’t you kind of… young?”
“Oh no, I’m not a teacher, I’m a tutor-slash-intern,” He explained with a mischievous smirk. “I’m only 17, but I know the freshmen curriculum enough to teach it to you so here I am.”
“How much do they pay you?” Peter asked with a skeptical look across his face. This guy was way too young to be teaching.
“They pay me shit, but you gotta do what you gotta do, am I right?”
“Yes, you’re right…I guess,” Peter fumbled nervously with his pen.
“Don’t worry, we’re gonna have a lot of fun,” Wade wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder. Peter could smell the cheap cologne and cigarettes on Wade… but it was surprisingly pleasant. Those muscles pressed against him definitely weren’t something to complain about either. “See ya later, Hap, thanks for your help.”
Wade kept his arm around Peter as they walked across the lobby. “Where do you want to begin the lesson? Is there a library around here?”
“Um, I have a desk in my room, if you want to work there.”
“Sweet. Let’s go.” Wade released Peter and dug into his messenger bag as they walked. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth and lighting it. “You don’t mind if I smoke, right?”
“No…I guess not…” Peter shrugged. “I’m not sure what Mr. Stark’s policy is though.”
“Oh well, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” Wade took a hit of his cigarette before winking at Peter.
Oh god, not now. Peter blushed as he felt heat rush to his groin. They continued the walk to Peter’s room, with Peter holding his journal to his thighs, hoping to God that Wade wouldn’t notice his growing problem….
Overall, the lecture went well. Peter had sat at his desk writing while Wade made himself comfortable…too comfortable… in Peter’s bed. Wade had thrown himself on the bed, feet against the pillows, all the paper’s from his messenger bag dumped across the sheets. It was hard to focus with the constant throbbing in between Peter’s legs but he did the best he could. Wade had covered the different themes found in The Scarlet Letter, the first of many books that they would be reading together, and then he had explained to Peter the right way to write an essay.  Despite Wade’s overall rebellious attitude, he was very well read and was a lot more intelligent than Peter was expecting.
“Make sure you read all the way to chapter 8 by tomorrow,” Wade told Peter as he packed up his bag. “This class is going to move by fast, you gotta read 3 books over these next couple weeks and write me three essays, so gotta keep up.”
“Okay, I will.” Peter nodded in agreement.
“Nice meeting you, shorty, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Wade put his fist out again and Peter bumped it. Wade made his way out the door and Peter was memorized by the way his ass looked in those tight jeans. Peter looked down at the bulge growing in his pants again and groaned in frustration.
Why was this happening? Peter wondered. Maybe his wires were getting crossed. Peter was straight, he was attracted to girls and girls only. He had the biggest crush on Mary Jane, he had fantasized about her multiple times… he had woken up stuck to his bed sheets because of her for crying out loud! Why was he suddenly feeling these kinds of feelings towards a random dude? Did he want to have sex with him? What would sex even be like with a guy? He shuttered at the thought. No I’m straight, he repeated to himself.  This is probably because I saw Steve and Tony together yesterday and I’m just traumatized or something.
Peter decided it would be best to take a cold shower before starting his homework.
The shower cleared Peter’s mind and most importantly cooled his body down. Feeling refreshed, he went up to the common room, covering his eyes to make sure he wasn’t catching anyone in the act again. When the coast was clear, he made his way to the sofa. Perfect reading spot, he thought to himself. He plopped down on the sofa and opened up the book.
He was able to knock out all eight chapters in one sitting. He placed the book down on the coffee table and looked down at his phone. It was 6 pm and he was feeling hungry, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Peter skipped down to the kitchen to find everyone preparing a meal together… this time Steve and Tony were there. Steve glanced up from the boiling pot to give Peter a soft smile. “We’re making spaghetti and meatballs today, old family recipe.” His neck was covered in what looked like small bruises — were they hickeys?
Peter glanced over at Tony, knowing who the culprit was. Tony simply avoided eye contact, “Uh, take a seat, kid, join us.” Yup, Steve was right, Tony’s a coward.
They were all sitting on the bar stools surrounding the island in the middle of the kitchen. “You seem to have some bruises on your neck,” Vision commented on Steve’s situation.
“I think Americans call them hickeys,” Wanda smirked. “Looks like Steve had a visit from a lady friend.”
“Okay, that’s enough, let’s all have some spaghetti,” Steve poured out a plate for everyone before taking his own seat.
“Where’s Natasha?” Peter asked, realizing she was the only one missing.
“She’s a loner, she’ll probably come down later to eat alone,” Steve explained before changing the subject. “Peter, why don’t you tell the group a little about yourself?”
Dinner went well. There were laughs and story telling and everyone got to know Peter a little better. He was starting to feel like he was part of the family. Tony remained quiet the whole night…he only spoke up to have someone pass him the wine bottle.
After dinner, they all made their way to the common room to have a few drinks, they even let Peter try a beer but it was too gross for him and he left it unfinished. Steve played Peter at fuseball, beating Peter every time. Tony only talked to the others, avoiding Peter whenever possible. Steve did his best to include him in everything, and mostly kept the conversation around Peter.
Around 10 pm, everyone called it quits, wished Peter a goodnight and made their way to their rooms. Tony and Steve remained behind. It was silent for a few minutes as the three of them stood in the empty room before Tony mustered up the courage to speak up.
“Don’t stay up too late, Wade is coming back tomorrow morning…” Tony warned as he walked towards the elevator.
“You have anything else to say?” Steve asked, stopping Tony in his tracks.
“And…eat your vegetables, they’re good for you,” Tony stepped into the elevator, not looking back, and was gone.
“He’s trying… just give him some time…he’s not good with emotions,” Steve explained. “I’m going to head to bed, let me know if you need anything else.” Steve started walking towards the elevator doors.
“Steve?” Peter gulped. He wanted to ask Steve about the feelings he was having towards Wade and the overall confusion he was going through, but he wasn’t sure how to word it or if Steve was even comfortable talking about it.
“Yes?”
“Nothing — nevermind, have a goodnight.” Peter gave a nervous smile.
Steve stepped into the elevator and gave Peter a slight nod. “Goodnight, Pete.” The doors closed and Peter was left alone in the common room.
Peter stayed up watching T.V in the commons, unable to sleep. Wade was still lingering on his mind, he could still smell his cologne, he could still remember those piercing eyes…that perfect smile… he was perfect.
He clicked off the T.V in frustration. Looking at the time, he realized that it was a little after midnight. He decided to head to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed.  
He made his way across the quiet building to the kitchen. He put the code in and opened the door before turning on the lights to the kitchen. To his surprise, there was someone rummaging through the fridge.
“Oh sorry I didn’t see you there.” He apologized.
“No problem, just getting a midnight snack,” The red-head stuck her head out from the fridge and walked over to the counter with a tub of ice cream. Peter instantly recognized her.
“You’re Black Widow!” Peter exclaimed.
“Yes, you can call me Nat.” She side-eyed him as she opened up the tub of ice cream and searched for a spoon. She was obviously annoyed with him.
“Nice to meet you, I mean– well – like officially, I’m Pet–”
“I know who you are,” She cut him off as she stuck the spoon into the tub. She brought the spoon up to her mouth and sucked the ice cream off the spoon.
Peter just stared in silence. He just watched as her plump, red lips slid over the spoon. She was gorgeous. These teenage hormones are out of control. Keep it together Peter!
She was in a small black nightgown that left nothing to the imagination. There were little red bows on each strap. Peter could see the outline to her black panties through the gown and could clearly see the outline of her breasts. She was so…curvy…was the only word Peter could use to describe her. Almost a perfect hour-glass, her nice round hips and ass complemented with a small waist. Peter was mesmerized.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” She placed the spoon in the sink and placed the tub back in the freezer, placing a sticky note on it.
“I’m sorry — I didn’t mean – I mean–” Peter desperately tried to cover up his groin. Damn puberty! Why do you forsaken me!?
Natasha made her way to Peter, almost gliding across the floor, as if she was walking on a cloud. This was heaven, or maybe one of Peter’s wet dreams, this couldn’t be real.
She stood right in front of him and it took all his willpower to not look down at her body. He focused on her face. Her stern green eyes were staring back into his brown eyes. He gulped.
“You know you’re too young for me, right?” She pushed a strand of red hair away from her face.
“Yeah of course,” Peter’s voice cracked. She licked her lips, drawing Peter’s attention back to them.
“So don’t try anything, or I will kill you,” She warned before leaning forward, pressing her body against Peter’s and whispering into his ear, lips brushing against his earlobe. “I’m a trained assassin you don’t want to mess with, honey.”
Peter’s eyes rolled back and he bit back a moan. Natasha pulled away and made her way towards the door. She looked back one last time, “You might want to change your pants,” she winked as she left the room.
Peter looked down to see the growing stain in the front of his jeans. She was the queen of manipulation. She had completely manipulated him for the fun of it and he had let her get away with it.
Well, he smiled, at least he knew he liked girls after all.
He reached around to grab his phone from his back pocket to check his messages only to find that it was missing. Natasha had stolen his phone. This was just great.
Part IV: coming soon
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iceandtheworld · 7 years
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Luck of My Life
So I finally had the time to make it… Here’s chapter 1 of the childhood friends AU idea I had before- just in time for day 12 of adrinette month! <3 These kiddos are 9 in this chapter. 
Chapter 1
Adrien couldn’t stop crying as he stared at the remains of his toy in his shaking hands. This was the third time this week. He so badly wanted to scream, but he was worried that it would attract more attention. He may be allowed to cry, but he drew the line at wailing. He was an Agreste, he could stay strong. No one needed to know what he could do.
His sniffling sounds brought over his mother though.
“Oh kitty,” she said soothingly. “Don’t cry. I’ll buy you a new one. You can control it next time.”
He gave her a sad look that displayed all the longing he had to be normal. “But mama, I can’t! I’ll just destroy it again. I’m a monster.”
His mother gently shook him from his despair. “You’re not a monster, sunshine. Life may have given you this power, but it doesn’t make you a monster. You have a kind heart, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”
She cupped her hands over his, and took away the toy’s remains. “Now, let me take this. I’ll go buy you a new one. Thankfully no one saw you destroy that- they might not understand.”
She kissed his forehead and guided him to the playground swings. “I’ll be back. I love you.”
“I love you too, mama.” Adrien gave her a small lopsided smile while wiping away his tears. “Thank you.”
He sighed as he watched his mother leave. He was alone again. It wasn’t crowded in the park today- only 3 other children were there. None seem to be paying him much attention. One kid was off at the sand box building some sort of castle as he hummed under his breath. Another kid was hiding behind a tree, writing something down on a notepad she carried along while watching the boy in the sand box.
The last child was holding a cat stuff toy on one hand as she swung across the monkey bars. Adrien flinched when he realized that her gaze was on him.
Did she see him destroy the toy?
Fear suddenly gripped his heart. This was what his parents warned him about, people will finally look at him differently. He was going to be Paris’ monster. The child that destroys everything he touches. The child that brings bad luck.
He braced himself for the inevitable scream from the girl, but instead she gave him a toothy grin. He stared at her for a few seconds before giving her a small, confused yet questioning smile.
It must have looked weird because she giggled and dropped herself off from the monkey bars with a graceful flourish.
She approached him enthusiastically, not showing any signs of fear. Adrien relaxed, she couldn’t have seen him destroy the toy. But as she came closer, she had a glint of excitement in her eyes that showed that she knew something.
“I saw you.” She said simply.
Adrien’s heart dropped. He gripped the chains on the swing and readied himself to run away. The young girl realized what he was about to do and consoled him.
“Oh no, no, no. Don’t go! I won’t tell anyone.” She said frantically. “I-I just wanted to say that- that, you have a gift!”
He stared at her smiling face sadly, and almost regretfully, he told her. “It’s not a gift.”
“But it is!” the girl insisted fervently. “That’s what my parents tell me.”
“You don’t understand!” he said bitterly, new tears now streaming down his face. He embarrassedly hid his face in hands.  
“But I do!” she said patiently. “I have a gift too.”
He raised his head and looked into her eyes- her bright bluebell eyes. “You do?”
She sat down on the ground in front of him and smiled. “I do.”
Adrien gaped at her. “I’m not alone?”
“You’re not alone.” She repeated.
Adrien just stared at the girl in front of him, taking in her midnight dark hair, her gorgeous eyes, and her pretty freckles. This girl was just like him. And for a moment, everything was okay.
“Why are you sitting on the ground?” Adrien questioned after long moments of silence. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get dirty?”
“Well, there is not other seats around, and I didn’t want to leave you alone when you are sad.” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Almost at once, Adrien shot up from the swing and said, “Then sit here! You shouldn’t get your pretty dress dirty.”
“No, no, it’s alright!” she waved away his offer. “You were there first, it wouldn’t be fair.”
“N-no, I insist.” Adrien gave her a solemn look. “My daddy said that that’s what a gentleman would do.”
The girl contemplated it, “No, it’s alright. I’m fine on the ground.” She said firmly.
Adrien hesitated, but upon seeing her steely eyes, he gave in. “Alright, if you won’t take it, I’ll just sit down here with you.”
Adrien plopped down on the ground and gave her a friendly bump on the shoulder. “I’m Adrien. Ca-can we be friends?”
“Mari.” She responded, returning the bump with a wide beam. “And of course!”
They stayed there for a while, just talking about anything. Before today, Adrien didn’t allow himself to believe that he could ever make a friend. His first real friend.
It would be about half an hour before Mari’s parents would come by, and Adrien tried to make the most of it by joining her in the playground.
“I have to go,” Mari said as she saw her parents approaching. “But before I do, I want to give you something.”
She pulled him into the playground castle. It was a closed place, hiding them away from the rest of the slowly gathering crowd.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” she said nervously as she stared at him through her bangs.
He gave her the sincerest look he could possibly muster. “I promise.”
“Okay.” She said softly.
She stared at her hands, slowly opening and closing it as she shook ever so slightly.
“Uh, Mari?” Adrien asked questioningly.
“Shhh.” She said, giggling quietly. “I’m trying to focus.”
A bright red glow covered her hands. “Now, what’s your favorite color?”
“Black and green.”
She grinned and the red glow grew. All of the sudden, a stuff toy dropped out of nowhere onto her awaiting hands.
Adrien stared at it.  It was a medium sized black cat stuff toy. The ears were long and pointy and the electric green eyes were a little too comical to be realistic. A mischievous quality was almost visible and familiar to him, grinning at him in a liberating way.
“It’s for you.” Mari said shyly.
Adrien withdrew the hands that he didn’t even notice was reaching out to touch it. “I couldn’t.”
Mari’s face fell. “Oh, I understand. It’s alright.”
“No!” Adrien said anxiously. “It’s- it’s just that I’m worried it will get destroyed.”
“It won’t.” Mari said surely. “It’s my gift.”
Adrien tentatively stretched out to touch it. The moment his fingers hit the soft furry toy, he instinctively pulled back his hands as if he was afraid the toy would burn. When it didn’t, he let out a gasp and he took it slowly from Mari, cuddling it close to him.
“Your power is beautiful.” Adrien said gently.
“You’re beautiful.” Mari murmured.
Adrien felt a warm feeling spread itself across his chest. This girl didn’t see him as a monster. The most beautiful girl in the world thought he was beautiful.  Adrien felt lighter than he’s ever been.
“Thank you.” Adrien tried to put a much emotion as he could in those two words.
She only smiled tenderly in response.
When Mari’s parents arrived, Adrien almost couldn’t bear to say goodbye. But after assuring him that she would be there the next day, he beamed and shyly gave her a gentlemanly kiss on her hand.
“Goodbye, my lady.” He said to her retreating back. “See you tomorrow.”
….
Only, he didn’t. The next day, his family boarded themselves on a flight to China to find a healer- someone who can cure him of his gift. He came back 2 years later, without a cure, and without his mother.
He wouldn’t see his lady for another 10 years. By then, he didn’t even remember her face or her name.
He only remembered her eyes, her smile, her power and her kindness.
He remembered so little, but without a doubt in his mind, he knew he found her that fateful day he decided to use his powers for good.
He found her- his lady.
Ladybug, whoever you are behind that mask, I love you. 
Chapter 2 here! 
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