#we are lucky our power is up and running after the storm some parts of town are still fucked
Text
we had to leave him alone like all day recently after we had a Major Car Emergency and he wanted to make sure we knew how unhappy he was about it...
#baby felix#he was SO MAD#we had to basically go sell my brother's car for scrap 🙃 after it died 🙃 and then we were at cat lots & on the phone & this week has been#ENDLESS bro#we are lucky our power is up and running after the storm some parts of town are still fucked#some roads are *still* closed#things have been... exhausting. and felix just wants everything back to normal asap#cat#cute#a baby!!!!!!#*CAR LOTS lmao not cat lots godddd can you imagine the car died let's go buy a cat!!
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
ATHENA'S GIRL. luke (pjo) - pt. 1
trailer > part 1 > part 2 > part 3
( masterlist )
IN WHICH... Luke's second quest isn't exactly a heroic one but he doesn't have the power to reject it. Who knew it would lead him to a prestigious high school where his hardest mission would be trying to befriend a snappy demigod.
"Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you. I see you changing from how I've designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose?"
Warnings : modern au but camp still exists, Luke doesn’t betray
A/N : I signed up with a blogging side job and they asked if I had any previous blog experience. I said no because I wasn’t about to admit that I run a one shot blog acc on Tumblr 😭
—
“What is wrong with you?!"
Heads turned to look at the H/C-haired girl who had shouted in a voice too loud to be inside a library. She was standing up, having shoved her chair back moments before. She clenched her hands into fists.
"Do you find joy in torturing me with your obnoxious presence? Is that it?!" She exclaimed at the brunette standing in front of her. She angrily grabbed her pile of books, messily shoving them into her bag. "Honestly!" She let out another groan as she loudly stormed past the doors.
"Well, that went smoothly, Luke." Chris, who had been watching the scene behind an upside down book, said.
The brunette boy with curled hair sighed, glaring at his friend, Chris. "I'm only trying to protect her. I don't know why she's so bitchy." Luke scowled. "I don't get why our quest was to protect some girl."
"Chiron said she doesn't have a satyr guide." Chris retorted, "That's why we're here."
Luke scoffed. "I can't even peacefully talk to her, let alone peacefully talk to her. She'll never come with us to camp." He swiftly threw his hands up in surrender.
"It's either that or the monsters. And if she doesn’t come with us, we fail.”
Luke stiffened at the mention of failing a quest. He knew all too well what that felt like. The jagged scar gruesomely painted across his face was proof of that.
“Just… befriend her.” Chris said as Luke stood up, ready to walk out of the library.
“Easier said than done. She hates me, Chris. And she hates you for being friends with me. So if neither of us can befriend her, how are you going to tell her about camp? It’s not like her dad will. He abandoned her for gods sake!”
Y/N, to put it simply, was an orphan. Her dad left her on the steps of a random house after her mother, whichever god she was, disappeared.
“Okay. Uh, what do we have in common with her then? And why does she hate you? I never understood that.” Chris questioned, desperate to think of ways to connect with Y/N before the monsters sensed her.
“I… made her get an F on her science project because I accidentally ruined it.” Luke sheepishly smiled.
“… You deserve all the insults from her then. But to answer my own question, we’re all demigods. That’s the most we have in common. I told you we should’ve taken Annabeth.” Chris uttered, gesturing to their surroundings.
“She’s a young kid." Luke retorted, "This is a high school. People will know something is wrong.”
“Or they’ll think she’s a child genius which, for the record, she is.”
Luke wasn’t sure how to feel about this quest. His first one had ended in absolute disaster so he was lucky to even be chosen for a second. But was a fire-breathing dragon worse than a high school girl who, if she needed to or even just felt like it, would stab you? Luke would take the dragon again because at least it didn’t spew out every insult known to man.
“I gotta get to this after school meeting.” Chris piped up, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Some kids forced me to join. Find her and talk to her. Who knows, maybe you’ll get along. Eventually.”
Luke rolled his eyes as his friend jogged off to who knows where. Finding Y/N wouldn’t be hard. As creepy as it sounded, he had been watching Y/N for moments just like this.
He quietly whistled under his breath as he walked to the cafe across the road, immediately spotting Y/N in her usual seat beside the large window. She was, to no one’s surprise, reading a book.
Luke pushed open the door, the bell attached to it chiming softly. He made an instant beeline for Y/N. “Why so many books?” He blurted out, raising an eyebrow at the amount of novels strewn over the table.
Y/N lifted her head, frowning at the sight of him. “These are my cafe books.” She said, looking down at her book once more. Luke slid into the seat across from her.
“You need four cafe books? Why four?”
“Well, I need a novel and a biography book.”
“You’re reading Fyodor Dostoevsky as a novel? That’s your definition of light reading?” Luke picked up the book, almost laughing. “And some of it is in Russian. You know Russian?”
“Somewhat. I’m learning it so I can read Dostoevsky in the original.”
“And the Edgar Allen Poe?”
“Short stories. And Norman Mailer is a great essay writer so I wanted to check him out too.”
Luke huffed, “Jeez, writer. Reading Dostoevsky, learning Russian, reading all of these books. You’re crazy.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes as she stared at him with her heavy gaze. “Why do you call me that? Writer? Are you making fun of me?”
“Why would I need to do that? I call you writer because you want to be a journalist, right?” Luke leaned back in his seat, “I’ve read some of your essays, by the way. Don’t get mad at me. They were great. You really seemed to like the Russian revolution.”
“I’m more interested in the royal family, actually. Not so much in the Bolsheviks and all that politic stuff.” Y/N placed the book she was reading down, a truce sign in Luke’s eyes.
“Oh, she’s smart, pretty, and interested in the slaughter of a royal family. Are you perhaps training to become a serial killer? I hope I’m not your next target.” Luke teasingly grinned as a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.
“Castellan, I have a question.” Y/N sat up straighter, “How is it that you got into the school? Don’t get me wrong, you’re street smart but you aren’t… academically smart. Are your parents filthy rich?”
“My dad’s a deadbeat.”
“Did you cheat then? I won’t tell anyone. I’m only curious.”
“You wound me, writer. No, I didn’t cheat. Is it so hard to believe I passed the entrance exam?”
“Yes.” Y/N said without hesitation.
Luke stared at her with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Ouch. Now you’ve added salt to the wound.”
Luke had already acknowledged that he wasn’t gifted in the academic department. But there was more to life than writing articles and scribbling down overly complicated math equations.
“Wait a minute,” Luke sat up. How was it that Y/N could draft a perfectly constructed essay when she had dyslexia? “Don’t you have a reading problem? Dyslexia? Are you sure you didn’t cheat?” He meant the last bit as a joke but he instantly knew he made a mistake when Y/N’s eyes darkened.
“I have no need to.” She jeered, grabbing her cafe books. And just like that, their little moment of peace was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Never accuse me of cheating again. You got that, Castellan?” She harshly poked his shoulder as she walked past him.
“Hey, you forgot your Dostoevsky- and she’s not even listening to me. Great. Okay.” Luke sighed as he grabbed the book, observing it. It seemed well-loved because the novel was almost falling apart and its delicate pages were stained brown with coffee and tea.
Luke cracked open the book, raising his eyebrows at the sight of highlighted words, pen marks, and sticky notes inside. “She likes annotating.” He muttered to himself, running his hands over the pages.
The writing stopped near the end of the book and Luke realized it was because she had yet to finish it. An idea burst into his head and he quickly exited the cafe, clutching the book close to his chest. His usual routine would be to wait for Chris outside but he strolled back into the library, eyes landing in a group of giggling girls.
“Hey, ladies.” Luke boyishly smirked at them, which almost caused them to melt. “Do you have any sticky notes and pens I could borrow?”
That’s how he ended up with a pile of sticky notes and a multitude of pens at his disposal. Luke couldn’t read that well due to his godly side but he sure tried. Luke had heard about how a book girl’s love language was someone else annotating a book for her. In this case, this was Luke waving the white flag for good.
“Yo, Luke, you ready to head off?” Chris returned an hour later, just as Luke was finished scribbling on sticky notes and placing them carefully on the crumbled pages. Chris arched an eyebrow. “You can’t read.” He stated.
Luke rolled his eyes. “I know but this is me trying to befriend her. Trust me, it’ll work.” The brunette led his friend to Y/N’s locker, easily picking it open with a bobby pin he found on the floor. “Say hello to friendly Y/N.” Luke grinned as he placed the novel on the top shelf and closed the door.
“If this works, I’ll give you my dessert for a week.” Chris piped up
Luke chuckled, putting all his faith into his plan. “It’ll work. And deal.”
•
Chris and Luke watched Y/N like hawks as she opened her locker, letting out a small yawn as she did so. She spotted the book immediately. As she flipped through the pages, something unexpected happened that left Chris gaping.
She smiled. Her pink-tinted lips curved into a bubbly smile as she read something and she even let out a quiet laugh. As she turned her head, her gaze locked with Luke’s. She sent him a nod of acknowledgment before leaving to get to class.
“Looks like I’ll be having extra dessert.” Luke cockily uttered, teasing his friend.
“I can’t believe it actually worked.” Chris clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Better luck next time, buddy.” Luke tilted his head back as he laughed. “Get to class. We can’t blow our cover.”
Luke’s first class was with Y/N. Actually, all of his classes were. And that was on purpose. He had to keep a close eye on her in case anything happened. Nothing ever did, which was unusual. Monsters sensed demigods as soon as they turned twelve but Y/N was Luke’s age and still hadn’t run into one. Luke found it strange.
He sat down in his chosen seat and turned his head, surprised to see Y/N sitting beside him. “Impotence means the inability to do something effectively.” She spoke, looking at him. Luke was at a loss for words as his lips parted.
“What?” He stupidly questioned.
“‘The fear of appearance is the first symptom of impotence’. You put a question mark next to impotence.”
“Oh.” Luke could recall doing that. “I guess I did.”
“You don’t write very well.” Y/N said. “At some point, you started writing in Greek. You know Greek?”
“To an extent.”
Y/N quietly hummed. “The ability to go from English to Greek is somewhat impressive. Your Greek is better.”
Luke almost smiled at the backhanded compliment. “You know, writer, I always took you as a Jane Austin girl. Pride and Prejudice and what not. How come you’re reading Crime and Punishment instead?”
Y/N shrugged. “I want to know more about Russian culture.” She simply said, opening her science textbook. Luke stared at her.
“You want to know more about Russia? I’ll show you. Come on.” Luke tugged Y/N out of her seat much to her surprise. She gasped.
“But class.” She said, but Luke ignored her.
“It’ll be fine. You’ll love it.” Luke reassured her as he pulled her out of the room.
“I’m not sure I will.” Y/N groaned, trying to dig her heels into the ground to slow Luke down. “We really should go back to class.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in worry while Luke clicked his tongue.
“No. We don’t.”
Before Y/N knew it, she was outside the school building and walking down the road behind Luke. “Where are we going?” She asked, receiving no reply.
“Wait here.” Luke said, pausing in front of a large wired fence.
“Are you sure you aren’t the serial killer here?” Y/N muttered, almost scoffing. Luke jumped, easily grabbing onto the fence and climbing up. “You look like a monkey!” Y/N exclaimed. Luke quietly chuckled, reaching the top.
“You’re funny, writer- Woah!”
Y/N gaped as Luke tumbled down, harshly hitting the ground. “Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes wide. Luke groaned as he stood up, clutching his shoulder.
“I’m fine. I just have to rearrange my shoulder real quick.” He said, grunting. Y/N watched in horror as Luke grabbed his own shoulder, readjusting it with a terrifying crack.
“That’s not normal.” Y/N said, cringing. “Your shoulder should not be doing that… oh, my gosh! You need to see a doctor soon. That crack was disgusting!” But Luke ignored her.
“You can climb, right?” Luke questioned.
“I am not climbing and falling like you.” Y/N sneered. She looked around, spotting a door. “I’m glad I’m not dumb like you.” She pushed the door open, mockingly staring at Luke. “Voila. No need to look like a monkey.”
“And there our truce goes, writer. I’m going to beat you up now.”
Y/N lightly laughed, rolling her eyes. “You can’t hit a lady.” She warned.
“Oh, you’re right. Damn me for being a gentleman. If only I was a girl. I could slam you.” Luke teasingly slung an arm around her shoulder as he led Y/N through the woods. “Chris and I found this place by accident. I thought you’d like it, especially after seeing your obsession with books. That’s not normal, by the way. It’s creepy. You treat books like your friends.”
“For your information, I have friends.” Y/N snapped.
“You have one friend. And she’s not even at the school.”
“So? Who cares. Besides, I talk to Sehee.”
“Sehee Kim hates you.”
“Yeah. But she’s toned down. We’re acquainted now.”
“Whatever you say, writer. Close your eyes.” Luke slapped a hand over her face, concealing her gaze. “Don’t peek. It’s a surprise.”
“If you plan on killing me, don’t eat me. I’m not into cannibalism.”
“You wrote an essay on all the media’s that portrayed cannibalism. The hills have eyes, that plane crash with the sports team. What else am I forgetting?”
“The Bean clan. Technically, that wasn’t a show or movie but the hills have eyes were inspired by it. At least, I like to think so.” Y/N paused, “Wait, you read the essay?”
“You’re a model student, writer. Of course I read your work. It took me a few days.” Luke grinned, though Y/N couldn’t see it. “Alright. You ready?” Luke rested his chin on Y/N’s shoulder as he lowered his hands, emitted a small gasp from Y/N.
“This place… what the…” She was speechless. In front of her was a beautiful, old library. Vibes of ivy wrapped around the shelves yet the books still looked functional. Albeit, a little old but they didn’t look like they’d turn to dust if she touched them.
“It’s an old library. Abandoned but still pretty. All of the books here are in Russian. You like it?”
“I love it… Castellan.” She gently smiled.
“I come here when I need time to think.” Luke sighed to himself, gesturing to a small corner where a blanket and a few pillows lay. “I can’t read in general but it’s comforting.”
“How’d you know I have dyslexia?” Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.
Luke shrugged. “I had a feeling.”
“To answer the question from yesterday, yes. I do have dyslexia. But I envied children who could read so I got help. More like I begged the orphanage to get me help. I wanted to read and write so I did.”
Y/N ran a hand over the books, letting her fingers trace over the delicate golden details. Luke watched as she walked past the sturdy wooden shelves, a gleeful skip in her step.
“What’s your favourite book?” Luke asked as Y/N opened an aged book, staring at the words carefully printed in black ink.
“Oh. I actually have it with me.” Y/N began, digging around in her bag to pull out a small paperback. She showed it to Luke. “I want to die but I want to eat tteobokki.” She uttered. Luke stared at it, eyebrows lifted.
“You read… self-help books?”
“Well, it’s more like a biography or a memoir. It doubles as a self-help book. And yes. Is that a problem? It's an opportunity to learn how these type of books are written."
Luke shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I just wasn’t expecting it. I mean, why do you need help? You seem to have your life figured out. Studying, Harvard, journalism."
Y/N softly cleared her throat as she stared at him. “Castellan, I firmly believe that everybody needs help. Even just a little bit. And my life is literally falling apart if I’m not in school. My orphanage is crumbling to the ground and I’m probably going to be kicked out soon. On top of that, I think I’m going crazy.” Realising she was ranting too much, Y/N took a breath and stopped talking.
“We’re all crazy in a way, writer.”
“No. I’m actually crazy… Castellan, I see things… things normal people shouldn’t see. Creatures… weird things… things I can’t describe.” Y/N pulled at the ends of her hair. Luke was quick to grab her hands, stopping her.
“I understand, writer. Trust me. You may think I don’t, but I do.”
“You hallucinate too?”
“It’s not hallucinations. It’s real. I know I probably sound crazy. You see strange animals, right? Like, monsters?”
Y/N turned her head, staring at Luke with wide eyes. Y/N silently nodded. “How… how did you know?”
“I need you to listen to me, writer. And don’t call me insane or judge me or any other mean thing you like to do.” When Y/N still didn’t say anything, Luke continued. “How do I put this… You’re a demigod. I am too. Chris as well. Your mother is, uh, a goddess. You’re a half-blood. And eventually… monsters are going to chase after you.”
Y/N gawked at Luke for a few long minutes before she looked away. "You're crazy."
"I'm not crazy. I told you I'm not."
"Okay, not crazy. You're mad, out of your mind, deranged, demented. You're a lunatic, unstable, unbalanced. Non compos mentis!"
"Are you speaking in Latin right now?"
"We have to recite the school song on the spot. We get extra credits if we say it in Latin. You didn't know that?" Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're... not lying. Gods and goddesses actually exist... don't they?" Luke sighed, nodding his head.
"I'm sorry to put all of this on you now but we really have to go. It's unusual that the monsters haven't sensed you yet. We have to find Chris before"- Luke was cut off by a loud roar. Y/N gasped, clutching onto Luke.
"What was that?" She gasped.
Luke pulled Y/N up, holding her tight. "We have to go. Now. Come on." Y/N's hands shook as she tried to shove the old book back into its place. Luke grabbed it, cramming the book into her bag. "Just take it. Take the book!" Luke grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her out of the library.
"Whatever that thing was seemed close. We have to hurry." Luke and Y/N ran out of the forest and barged past the door to the metal fence. "Chris will meet us at the road. Come on!"
There was another roar and Y/N shrieked. A blast of flames engulfed the fence, burning away at it. "Oh, my gosh... what is that?! Is that a fucking dragon?!"
"So you can swear! I never expected that!" Luke exclaimed as he stood in front of Y/N, drawing a sword.
"You have a fucking sword too?! What the fuck!" Y/N screamed, "What is going on?!"
"Stop cussing! Y/N, I need you to listen to me. Run. Run as fast as you can and find Chris. Please." Luke pushed Y/N back.
"What? No! I am not leaving you with that... that beast! And I don’t really what to be alone too!” Y/N furrowed her brows but Luke was persistent.
“Go! Go!” He shouted. Y/N spun around, sprinting away. She heard Luke’s sword clash with the dragon’s hard scales and she looked over her shoulder.
“Find Chris!” Luke shouted again.
Y/N gasped as she burst through the vegetation, almost crashing into Chris. “Oh, my fucking god! Chris! Castellan- I mean Luke is fighting against a dragon! What do we do?!” Panic glazed over Chris’ eyes.
“Y/N, stay here. It’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon!” Chris ran off. Y/N shakily inhaled as she looked around. The road was barren and there wasn’t a car in sight.
“This is fine… totally, inexplicably fine.” Y/N muttered, thickly gulping. But her panic flared up again when she felt a presence behind her.
She shook as she turned around, her head slowly lifting to stare at the dragon. “… Oh, I’m fucked.” Y/N’s bag felt heavier than it did before. It slid off her arm, crashing to the ground. Y/N scrambled back as the dragon blew a mouthful of burning smoke through its sharp fangs.
“Nice boy… or girl. Or are you gender-neutral? It doesn’t matter.” Y/N nervously chuckled as she slowly kneeled down to search for something, anything, to defend herself. Instead of a sharp pen or maybe a heavy book, she pulled out a golden brass spear with electricity crackling through it.
“Oh… this works.”
The dragon growled as its beady eyes watched her trembling form. Y/N swung the spear at the dragon, managing to hit it with a lucky shot. The dragon roared, throwing its head back in pain. Y/N landed another blow and managed to dodge the beast’s claws.
“Man, am I glad I took those sports classes now!” Y/N shouted, ducking. She swung the blade of the spear ay the creature, slicing a scale off. Y/N yelped as blood oozed out. “Oh, that is revolting.” She wrinkled up her nose.
The dragon, seemingly very unhappy with Y/N’s wide use of vocabulary, grunted as it stalked towards Y/N with heavy steps. Y/N gulped. She gripped the spear tightly, trying to think of what to do. As the dragon neared, her survival instincts took over and before she knew it, she was hurling her weapon at the dragon’s chest. It groaned in pain as the tip impaled its flesh before disintegrating into a fury of golden specks.
Y/N panted as her spear clattered to the ground. “… I’m glad javelin was a requirement at school.” Luke and Chris arrived at the scene a moment too late, staring at the golden flecks in surprise.
“You… took down a dragon?” Chris asked in shock while Luke was silent as he subtly lifted a hand to touch the scar on his face.
“Yes. Now, can we get out of here before we get slaughtered like the family from the hills have eyes?! If I die, I can’t get into Harvard!” Y/N exclaimed, picking up her spear that had transformed back into the old book from the library.
“She’s right.” Finally, Luke spoke up. “We need to get moving. The stronger monsters have already sensed us. More will be coming.”
"Wait!" Y/N shouted, causing both of the boys to pause. "Oh, my gosh... What about Harvard?! I can't get into Harvard with all these monsters running after me!"
"You didn't tell her?" Chris asked, glancing at Luke.
Luke quickly shrugged in confusion. "I told her about camp! But I may have left out the part where she has to go if she doesn't want to be slaughtered..."
"What?! No, I'm not fit out for camp! I need to go to school and study so I can get into Harvard and study journalism so I can become like Christiane Amanpour!"
"We'll explain more at camp." Luke uttered, wrapping his hands around one of Y/N's arms while Chris did the same on the other side. The two boys dragged her away, ignoring how she kicked and screamed, mainly about Harvard and how her career was ruined now.
Eventually, she calmed now. The trio now calmly walked along the empty road with Y/N in the middle. “I mean, at least it can’t get worse than a dragon.” Y/N said in an effort to raise spirits.
Above, thunder rumbled as rain began to pour down. Y/N loudly clicked her tongue, “Never mind.” She grumbled. “But hey, can’t get worse”- Lightning crackled and hit a tree near Luke. He jumped as the leaves went up in flames, though they were quickly distinguished by the large droplets of rain. “Okay, but surely”- Luke cut Y/N off.
“Please… writer, stop talking. We’ll hide in that cave until the rain stops. It’s getting dark soon too. We officially leave tomorrow.” Luke uttered, pointing at a nearby hole in the rocks. Y/N jogged for cover while Luke and Chris took their time, not caring about the rain because they were already soaked to the bone.
“So, you call her writer? Cute.” Chris mockingly smirked as he knowingly winked.
“Yeah, so what? What do you call Clarisse? Oh, that’s right, you haven’t confessed yet. You have the right to judge me when you confess.” Luke walked away while Chris was left standing there, speechless.
“Touché.” Chris muttered under his breath.
•
Luke woke Y/N the moment the sun rose. She groaned as he shook her awake, sleepily rubbing her eyes. “What do you want?” She muttered, trying to kick him away.
“Time to get moving before any more dragons come.” Luke grinned as Y/N quickly sat up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, writer. Come on, we’ll get breakfast at the train station. It’s the fastest way to camp.”
It was a thirty minute walk to the nearest train station and in those thirty minutes, Luke would not stop talking. And Y/N thought her rambling was bad.
“Why do people like peanuts anyway? They taste so… nutty. I don’t like peanut butter. The look of it, the taste of it, the texture, the way it sticks to the roof of my mouth. Ugh! Gross.” Luke faked a small gag while Y/N slowly nodded.
“Do you usually talk this much?” She questioned, recalling the days where Luke hardly spoke up in class unless he was replying to a girl in love with him.
"No. Not unless I've got a pretty girl next to me who's too smart for her own good." Luke grinned while Y/N rolled her eyes at his pathetic flirting.
“Have you got money? Once we get to the station, I would suggest we buy tickets first. Food can wait. Besides, the train should have food too.” Y/N said, checking her watch. "When's the next train? We should try and catch the earliest one."
"Jeez, who made her in charge?" Luke whispered to Chris behind Y/N's back.
“What? You think you’d be in charge?”
“Well, this is my quest after all. Plus, I thought there’d be a voting. You know, a show of hands.”
Chris sent Luke a look. “Don’t be like Percy, man. She’s like our Annabeth. She’s obviously in charge. And I’m like, uh, Grover.”
“And let me guess,” Luke deadpanned, “I’m Percy.”
“Yeah. Always trying to change the system into a voting thing. Just let the pretty girl do the work and we won't get killed."
"I can hear you, by the way." Y/N butted in, staring at the two boys with an unimpressed look.
"That's the point." Luke replied.
"The train station is right over there. I'll buy us tickets." Y/N said, outstretching her hand.
"Huh? Why do you have to buy the tickets?"
"Because, genius, it's suspicious to see two guys with a girl. They’ll think you’re kidnapping me. Which, mind you, you technically are.” Y/N ran her hands through her messy hair to smoothen it down, “The faster we leave, the better.” She brushed the dirt off her skirt and adjusted her wrinkled blouse so she could fit in more with the crowd.
Luke begrudgingly handed over a part of the given money to Y/N. She smiled, which only fuelled his annoyance. “After we buy tickets, we can look for food if we have time.”
“Why can’t we split up?” Luke interrupted, earning an eye roll from Y/N. Chris silently watched as they bickered, not wanting to get involved. It was like they were in class again, always going back and forth until the teacher forced them to stop.
“Splitting up would be dangerous. We have to stay together. But when I buy the tickets, don’t follow me. Hang back.”
Luke had no choice but to agree with the plan.
“So,” Chris shuffled closer to Luke, “Still think we should have a voting system?”
PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303 @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @luvvfromme @y0urm0m12
#luke castellan#annabeth chase#luke castellan x you#greek mythology#luke castellan pjo#grover underwood#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson series#camp half blood#percy jackson fanfiction#hermes pjo#athena#zeus pjo#apollo pjo#pjo season 1#luke pjo#pjo luke#percy jackson show
487 notes
·
View notes
Text
Corrupted, chapter 18 - a TMA by Malevolent crossover
The night after a shadow-attack, knife-wounds, and heavy drinking, Tim has a lot to lose. Every step seems to bring him closer to those who would eat Hastur... and Tim finds the idea of losing this arrogant, ridiculous god less appealing by the day.
Lucky for him, Elias has a plan. But are Elias' plans ever really lucky for anyone?
------------------
Hello, all! It's been a while. To sum up so far:
- Tim opened a book he shouldn't have, and the King in Yellow now dwells inside him.
- The King has been on the run from Kayne for thousands of years.
- In a stroke of genius (???), Hastur chose to come to THIS world - where the Fears have devoured the gods they could catch, and driven out the ones they couldn’t.
- It’s a race now against time. Kayne has promised to kill Hastur; the Eye, at least, knows Hastur is here, and the others will soon; through some dubious choices Tim is now tied to the Magnus Institute; Daisy is on his trail, and so far can’t be deterred. And Jon, for some inexplicable reason, insists on tagging along to see what happens.
Any port in a storm, right? Well. Elias' home is certainly some kind of harbor…
AO3
————
It is a miserable night.
Bad dreams, the kind that wake him shaking and tense; flashes of lightning through closed eyes, though when he opens them, there is no sign of a storm; and that constant, unending, inescapable feeling of being watched.
Tim wakes feeling like shit, and can’t completely blame the alcohol. It was a miserable night on the heel of many miserable nights and many miserable days and many miserable years.
Though… he has to admit to himself as he grunts his way awake that the last few days haven't been so bad. Maybe it’s not feeling alone, though that's insane because this is temporary and Hastur is more dangerous than he is friendly.
Or maybe it’s because Hastur understands him.
That is a bizarro realization, and it hits like a brick. His normal experience of thinking adjacent to other people instead of alongside, of misunderstandings and the need to explain jokes… none of that is here with Hastur.
If Hastur were a person, Tim would be leery (he knew a narcissist when he saw one), but might still try to get close. Might still try to charm. Probably even seduce. He likes Hastur. He can handle that bluffing bullshit just fine.
Or maybe all of this is the alcohol, and he’s just being lonely. He sits on the bed, slumped forward, elbows on his thighs, and sighs.
Your breath could use some improvement, says Hastur, amused.
“Yeah, yeah,” says Tim, and staggers to the bathroom. If someone is watching, he hopes they’re having fun, because he’s about to see a morning too-much-booze experience that nobody ever likes.
#
Brushed, showered, clothed in last night’s clothes (clean and pressed, as promised), he makes his way into the hall.
It was very strong liquor, says Hastur.
“You’re hungover, too?” grumps Tim. “Fuck. Sorry.”
Worth it.
Odd. “Why?”
I like you relaxed, says Hastur. I like your responses to things.
To things. To what things? The end of last night is very fuzzy. “Sure,” says Tim. “I think we should drink in the privacy of our own home, though.”
Oh, I agree, Hastur says, positively rumbling it.
Tim decides to pretend he didn’t say our and rubs his eyes. “Save the sexy-times voice for later, yeah? When I’m not feeling nauseated.”
There is an easy fix, you know.
Tim stops at the top of the stairs. He hears Jon and Elias down there, talking in the kitchen; their voices are not raised, not distressed, so he feels he can take a moment. “You want me to use magic.”
Yes.
“I thought we’d established I’m terrible at this?” Tim says weakly.
No, Tim, no, Hastur murmurs. Far from terrible. You are brilliant; powerful; a solar storm in a human body. You wish to avoid losing more body-parts to me? Wish to avoid setting more lions loose, or any other mishap? I want the same thing. Therefore, there is one solution: together, we practice.
Tim exhales slowly. “Hastur…”
Trust me. Trust me, Tim, at least this one time, and we’ll see how we can build from there.
Tim wants to trust. Maybe that’s foolish, but he does. “Let’s talk after breakfast.”
Assuming you can keep it down.
Tim wrinkles his nose. “It's party-time at casa Bouchard,” he announces, and marches down.
#
Elias and Jon are in the kitchen at the table, and in very different conditions. Elias is, of course, pristine; he looks like he stepped out of a magazine aimed at CEOs: bland, perfect, unassuming, expensive.
Jon looks like shit.
“Did you sleep at all?” Tim blurts.
Jon looks up at him mid-sentence. His hair is mussed; his eyes are red; his clothes have, unsettlingly, not been cleaned or pressed, and have gone brown with his blood. “What?” he says.
“Did you even leave the kitchen?” says Tim, increasingly horrified.
Jon stares at him, holds up a sheaf of papers, and shakes it.
“Right, I don’t speak paper flaps, so maybe we should take care of you first,” says Tim, approaching like Jon is a wounded deer.
“Tim,” says Jon, sounding ill. “You don’t understand. It goes so far back.”
“Tell me about it upstairs, all right?” says Tim, pulling his chair out.
“No, not yet! I need to know about Alexandria,” Jon protests, but he does not fight as Tim steers him toward the stairs.
“She’ll wait,” says Tim, deadpan.
“It’s not a woman! It’s a place!” says Jon, who, if he had feathers, would be one big ruffled ball. “Oh. You’re joking.”
“Yes, boffin, I’m joking,” says Tim, steering him toward the stairs.
Jon is now red. “I wasn’t finished,” he whines, climbing with Tim’s hand at his back.
“You’ll finish later.” Tim glances back.
Elias has not moved. He sits there, watching them both, doing that thing where he somehow feels like a caricature made of all eyes if one isn’t looking directly at him.
Why did we think kipping here was a good idea, again? thinks Tim.
Because otherwise, some horrible thing was going to hunt you two down, says Hastur.
Jon gasps, trips, and goes down on the stairs, banging his shins.
“Whoa, easy!” says Tim. “You okay?”
Jon spins and stares at him. “What was that?” he says, sprawled and shaky.
Tim stares back. “Wait. You heard that?”
Jon is shaking. “I… I heard…”
And of course, Hastur comes in with the massive ridiculous drama. Greetings, little unintentional eye priest. My man Tim likes you, so I will spare you when I come into my own.
Jon’s eyes roll back in his head and he passes the fuck out.
#
“Smooth,” Tim mutters at Hastur, trying and failing to wake Jon. He isn’t entirely sure what to do. It’s easy enough to carry Jon upstairs (and Jon never picked a bedroom, so Tim does that for him), but anything more seems like a personal violation. He goes so far as to lay Jon on the bed and remove his shoes, but that’s it.
It was only the truth, Hastur says in his patented I did nothing wrong voice.
If they were just two guys trying to make this work, Tim would be inclined to spank him.
What the hell comes next? Obviously, confronting Elias is the thing to do here, but Tim does not feel his best at the moment. It seems a bad idea.
The scent of cooked ham wafts into the room, and Tim’s mouth waters.
Oh, says Hastur, rumbling. He’s making breakfast.
Well, at least that provides neutral ground. Tim tugs the sheet to Jon’s chin and heads downstairs, jaw set, ready for a fight.
Elias is not ready for a fight. Elias is ready for a feast. Though Tim could have sworn there was nothing cooking when he walked Jon up.
Elias is humming, bent in front of the oven. “Have a seat,” he says, chipper.
“Did you really keep him up all night?” says Tim, who feels like not fighting his anger too much right now.
“No,” says Elias. “I assure you, he did that all on his own.”
You’re so pleased about it, says Hastur, sounding suspicious.
“Of course I am,” says Elias, who has an answer for everything. “He’s an ideal student of the Eye.”
“Your pet accidental priest?” says Tim.
Elias laughs.
It is a terrible laugh. It is a fucking evil laugh, like something out of a movie. Tim shivers, staring “Fucking hell, boss,” he says more mildly than the situation requires.
“My apologies,” says Elias, wicked chuckle tapering off. “His phrasing caught me by surprise, your Lordship.”
Of course the apology is for Hastur. “You’re having too much fun. Pretty sure it's illegal.”
“Laws change,” Elias says mildly, and provides a proper, perfect fry-up: bangers and back bacon, eggs and mushrooms and beans, fried bread, and white pudding.
Tim’s stomach rumbles.
Elias fucking winks. “As if I'd leave you suffering from my excess of hospitality.”
“Can’t decide if you’re a fantastic if incredibly creepy host, or just taking the piss out of me,” says Tim.
“Neither,” says Elias, deadpan. “It’s all part of my mad plan to lure the Fears to my doorstep.” Again, he offers the plate.
“Because you’re that bad at self-preservation,” Tim quips and takes it.
“My age—as your magnificent guest has observed—would say otherwise,” says Elias.
“Two hundred, he said?” Tim mutters, decides fuck it, and stuffs his face.
He can’t help a little moan. It’s perfect for a hangover: greasy and salty and good.
Hastur makes a similar sound, a couple octaves deeper.
Elias stares.
Tim swallows. Eyes him. “Yeah, I'm gonna need a minute.” He turns to have his way with the food.
Hastur continues making… sounds.
Tim logs them away for later and focuses on filling his stomach.
#
So food helps. Food helps a lot, and Tim swings around to begrudgingly grateful by the time Elias offers tea.
“Better?” says Elias, who knows the answer already.
“Very,” says Tim, who’s feeling a bit more generous.
“Good,” says Elias. “I’d like to talk to you about the letter you received from Jude Perry.”
The last day has been so insane that for a moment Tim has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. “Eh?”
The fire-woman, says Hastur.
“Shit,” Tim announces.
“Indeed. She wants you to go to Sheffield, yes?”
Tim stares for a moment. “Okay, how do you know that?”
Elias looks briefly pitying. “I can see almost anything I wish to see, which is why your adventure with Gertrude the other day remains tantalizing.”
Tim tries to deflect. “And I guess I’m worth peeping-Tomming though I haven’t done anything interesting beyond that?”
“Now, that isn’t true,” Elias soothes, and refills Tim’s tea. “The snow at the very least says otherwise.”
Tim sighs. “I know.”
“It was a good try, though,” says Elias, avuncular.
Tim gives him a look.
Elias smiles.
Dangerous, Tim reminds himself. “So what’s in Sheffield?”
“A cult,” says Elias. “Possibly a great challenge for you. They are those who worship destruction; who love the flame, who breathe fire and torment and screaming. Who, in fact, have given in to that which you—I think we can all agree, fortunately—still fight.”
“The Desolation.” Tim swallows, and cannot keep his voice steady.
His left hand—Hastur’s hand—rises and rests on his right.
It’s… so damn comforting. Tim can’t even quite place why. It’s just Hastur, who’s trying to gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss his way into whatever his goals are.
Still. It is, as Tim observed, the least alone he’s felt in years. Fuck it, he thinks, and turns his hand to grip Hastur’s.
“The Desolation,” Elias confirms. “I know you’re new to this, I do; yet I think you know what lies down that road.”
Tim looks away. “I feel it.”
“Yes,” says Elias, soft, but somehow more intense for all of that.
“It’s… it… it calls,” says Tim.
“Yes,” says Elias, even quieter, even more intense.
“Hastur thinks I’m doomed,” says Tim.
“So do I, fairly,” says Elias.
“Fuck you both,” says Tim. “I’m not.” Hastur’s hand tightens, and Tim finds himself blushing. “I’m not fucking doomed. I won’t do that.”
“It wants you very much,” says Elias. “The harder you resist, the harder it will pull you.”
“Well, fuck it, then,” says Tim.
“There is a way out,” says Elias.
Tim goes very, very still.
“A dangerous one,” says Elias, “with a hefty cost; but should you choose to pay it, you will not be devoured.”
What? says Hastur quietly. That’s not a thing.
“I assure you, it is,” says Elias. “It is possible to lose the attention of the Fears. Tim, I say this with full belief that you, lord Hastur, will obtain your very own body, becoming powerful and terrifying; I say this without any intention to raise your ire. As you have both noted, I like being alive, and I intend to keep doing it. Lying to you would not help me keep doing it.”
That much is true, cleric, says Hastur, and this rumble, this rumble is not friendly, this rumble is not calm, this rumble does not soothe or seduce the way half the sounds he make seem to do. This man belongs to me.
Tim rolls his eyes.
If your lies lead him to harm, you will wish your life was forfeit.
There is real fear in Elias’s expression, but it doesn’t seem to be a deterrent. “I know,” he whispers.
Tim’s instinct is almost never wrong. Something here is off. Elias’ fear is real; his determination to survive is real; his hope to avoid Hastur’s anger is real. But something isn’t. Something here is a lie, and Tim can’t see it. He sets his jaw.
Elias clears his throat. “My suggestion is you go to Sheffield.”
“To the crazy fire-worshiping cultists? Not that it doesn’t sound like the best time ever, but are you out of your mind?” says Tim.
“No,” says Elias.
“You go to Sheffield, then,” Tim says.
Why would you want him to? says Hastur suspiciously.
“Because they expect it. Because if you fight too hard or too obviously, they will look harder—and right now, Tim, I can completely guarantee that they do not know about your passenger. They only see the expected: a young man in the grip of anger, bereft of family or other human connections, already infested with such glorious rage. That is all. We do not want them to see more.”
“Wait,” says Tim. “If I go, I'm delivering him. I'm fucking putting him in danger!”
“Not necessarily,” Elias starts, but Tim overrides him.
“I am not putting him in danger,” Tim snarls, snarls, doesn’t recognize his own voice, and doesn’t realize there is smoke rising from around him (the air, his seat, the floor) until Hastur raises that left hand and gently cups his face.
Tim goes still.
“Amazing,��� Elias whispers, eyes so wide that his sharp blue-gray irises completely show.
Not who I want to be. Tim takes a moment. Shuts his eyes. Breathes.
That’s it, says Hastur, smooth and low and sensuous. Breathe… five… four… three…
“Fucking dom,” Tim murmurs, and hopes he didn’t actually say that out loud, and obeys. It works. He relaxes. (The fire is still there still burning still unextinguished but he can’t do anything about that now.)
“Incredible,” says Elias, looking thrilled. “Tim, if anyone can do this, you can.”
“No,” says Tim. “There’s risks, and then there’s stupidity. No.”
Elias sees he means it. Elias (naturally) changes course as though he’d always meant to, all along. “Well, it’s for the best,” he says. “Jon would follow you, and I can’t imagine how poorly that would go. He’s not the most social of creatures.”
Tim gives him another look, this one edged with anger.
Elias shivers, but doesn’t close his eyes. “What will you do instead?”
“Those police,” says Tim. “I take it they’re still looking.”
“Ms. Tonner is,” says Elias. “The Hunt’s avatar. You will have to do more to get her off your tail.”
And suddenly, Tim realizes he has to change his mind. His mouth twists. “So… these people in Sheffield. This fire-cult. They’ve done bad things, yeah? They’ve gone out of their way to burn buildings and people. Yeah?”
“Oh, yes,” says Elias as if he were just propositioned.
Tim ignores that. “So tell you what. If you can guarantee me a way to focus her on them instead of me… we’ll go.”
Tim that’s… I like that.
“Even though you might be in danger?” Tim says quietly.
I already am. This has the potential to turn one of the guns aimed at us in another direction.
Again, Tim dislikes the tone: again, it’s depressed, it’s accepting, it’s giving in. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I believe you’ll try.
Oh, fuck that. If fucking baby Merlin can't save this tiny, hidden piece of a god, then what's the point of any of it? “Well?” Tim says, turning all those feelings on Elias because he doesn’t know where else they can go.
Elias smiles. “Go see to Jon, won’t you? He’ll follow you if you don’t take him directly, and I think he’ll be safer if he’s under your care. Meanwhile, I have some phone calls to make. We can make this happen.”
Tim takes a slow exhale and nods. “Thanks for breakfast,” he says, and heads for the stairs.
#malevolent fic#tma fic#malevolent crossover#tma crossover#malevolent x tma#tma x malevolent#tim stoker#elias bouchard#jonathan sims#kiy malevolent
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Grandma died in April. Her funeral was insulting. Trite poems read by people that didn't even know her. Then a stranger handed me that godawful 'Do not stand at my grave and cry" poem. I read it, sure, and with better inflection and soul than the paid-by-the-hour preacher read his psalm. But then they tried to close up shop and I stood up and told them to hold. They weren't going to cookie cutter funeral my grandmother if I had anything to say about it. Now it was their turn to listen.
"One of the last things grandma talked to me about was when I started storm chasing. In the days after she and mom feuded and before the dementia took hold, she and I saw a lot of each other. I stopped over twice a week on average and we'd talk for hours.
I wrote this a year or so before grandma asked me if I was ever afraid when I was chasing storms. It seems very fitting that I read it again today:
When you die, the energy in your body escapes as heat loss. Now, unless you're dying somewhere like space, that heat will dissipate and become part of our atmosphere. Our atmosphere is very good at taking heat and doing interesting things with it, like condensing into storms. Some of the heat will cause rain to fall. Some of the heat will turn to static electrical energy and split the sky as lightning. As hot air rises and colder (less heated, technically) air rushes in to take its place, the resultant wind will push the storm along. Sometimes that convective action produces what we know as tornados.
The Union soldier Sullivan Ballou once mused about his death in a letter to his wife Sarah, "if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again." He died a few days after writing the letter at the first Battle of Bull Run.
Sullivan Ballou was right. All the tales of a fanciful afterlife are right -- from a certain point of view (thanks Obi-Wan). Consciousness is the product of a brain, and dies when the brain dies. But the energy powering it persists. As I described earlier, something in us is truly, inarguably, deathless.
Our energy literally comes from the stars and one day will return to the cosmos. Until then, we will occasionally light up the night as bolts of lightning. We will interact with our descendants long after even the memories of our life are lost to time.
"What do you do when you catch it? Isn't that scary?"
I greet each thunderhead as an old friend. I listen for the whispers of the dead upon the wind. I'm comforted in the night by the guiding flashes of what passes for heaven. And sometimes, if I'm very lucky, I see the unbridled fury of my ancestors.
One day, I will be that lightning, that rain, that terrible cloud that connects heaven and Earth by way of beautiful destruction.
So I am never afraid.
Grandma and I spoke of death often - death never frightened her. Luxury of faith, I suppose. She said she never wanted a funeral. All she ever wanted, in her own words, were just 'lay me next to Jack and my dad and carry on.'
So now I do that. I miss you."
And then I took a rose from the casket and walked to my car.
In the months since Grandma left, I've spotted one tornado in person, and have called almost a dozen warnings from radar. "Still at it," she'd say. Storms have even more meaning now. Right now, I'm on a ridge above Middletown, watching a storm pass to the south. Nothing major, but beautiful all the same.
I'm trying to carry on.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dragon Ball Legend Part 13
Necke,
Gohan, Krillin, Ocarin and Dende returned back to the cave hideout, and they landed in front of the entrance, walking inside. They saw a large capsule hut that Bulma made using one of her capsule corp capsules. Krillin called out to her, and the scientist opened the door to see the four of them outside. Ocarin handed back the scouter to her. Dende quickly hid behind Gohan and Ocarin, slightly scared by the woman's appearance.
"It's okay. She's friendly. Well, most of the time. Bulma can be a little bossy more than me." Ocarin joked.
The four walked inside the house and Bulma pulled out some already made food and juice from the fridge. Krillin and Gohan had told Bulma what had happened. She placed the bento boxes down and drinks on the table for the four and went to go grab some strawberry cakes for herself. Gohan and Krillin were already chowing down on the food and Ocarin was eating some of the strawberry cake. But she stopped when she noticed that Dende wasn't eating.
"Sounds like you had a rough time out there." Bulma said.
"No kidding." Krillin replied as he, Ocarin and Gohan munched down on some strawberry cake. "We're lucky to be alive." Then the two noticed as well that Dende hadn't touched any of the food.
"I know it's not very good. But you should probably try to eat something to get your strength back." Krillin said, concern.
"Not very good!?" Bulma screeched angrily and she flinged a cake at Krillin's head. "The sure hasn't stopped you for stuffing your face! Would it kill you to show a little appreciate for once!"
"I wasn't talking about the food-It's the best I've ever had!" Krillin stammered, nervously, worried that if he said anything else would make her madder. Gohan laughed at Krillin until he noticed that Dende still hadn't took a bite of his food. Bulma sat down next to him.
"I'm sure he's just to upset after everything's happened." She said.
"Actually, Namekians don't really need food." Ocarin filled her in. Dende's eyes widened, looking at her. Bulma, Krillin and Gohan's did so as well.
"She's right. We only need water to live off of." Dende said. Ocarin smiled.
"How about I go grab a cup of water for you? Will you at least try that." She offered. Dende slowly nodded and Ocarin got up and poured a glass of water and came back and set it down in front of him. Dende took it and began to take small sips before he sat the drink back.
"But what about those fields of vegetables we saw out there? I saw them myself." Krillin said, confused.
"The fields you saw were Ajisa plants." Dende explained.
Krillin and the others looked at him confused and Dende continued. "The elder used to say that Planet Namek used to be a different place than it is today. They say are world was once lush and beautiful and filled with Ajisa trees. But one day a massive storm darkened our skies, violent winds tore across the planet, stripping the Ajisa trees of their delicate leaves. The whole planet was destroyed. In fact, all life on our planet was brought to the brink of extinction. The elders knew how the Ajisa trees brought beauty to our world and help make the soil rich. That's why we were trying to grow more of them. We hoped that this would bring our world back to life."
"That's awful." Ocarin said, sadly. "Do you know what caused the calamity to happen?" she asked him. Dende shook his head.
"No. No one knows. Our elder told us that it was a dark time for Namek that even he doesn't like to talk about it." Dende told her, looking down thinking about something then he looked back at the group. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you all here?"
Suddenly, Ocarin, Krillin and Gohan sensed something. The three ran outside, looking over at the direction where they sensed the energy was coming from.
"What's wrong?! Did they find us or is someone coming!?" Bulma shouted, worried as well as she came running out of the cave. Dende followed her.
"No. But there's a lot of power levels." Krillin told her.
"Each one of them is disappearing." Ocarin frowned.
"Someone is killing more Namekians." Gohan said. Dende gasped.
"It's Vegeta! He's attacking one of the villagers! That bastard. Those Nameks never even had a chance!" Krillin growled, gritting his teeth, angrily.
"He's an animal, isn't he!" Bulma frowned.
"Yeah, and it looks like he even knows how to sense power levels without a scouter, now. If we try to go anywhere, he'll find us. I don't know if he's working for Frieza or not. But if any one of them gets their hands on all seven Dragon balls, then it's all over." Krillin said, gravely then noticed Ocarin beginning to walk away.
"Ocarin, where are you going?"
"I'm going to head out and see if I can find anything about the Dragon balls. I'm going to look for survivors as well. I'll be careful. Just wait here in the meantime." She said.
"You can't!" Krillin shouted at her. "Didn't you listen? He'll find you!"
"Then he should worry about himself and what I'm going to do to him, if I find him. I'm going whether you like it or not." Ocarin growled as she told him. Krillin backed away from her, holding his hands up defensively.
"Okay! You're the boss!" He stammered, nervously. "Just don't get yourself into trouble that we can't get you out of."
"I won't. Like said, I'm going to look for information. That's all." Ocarin assured him. "I'm going now. Don't get to stir crazy while I'm gone." She smiled and left the group, walking away.
Ocarin landed on a nearby island, looking around when she arrived at a destroyed village in ruins. She saw several Namekians lying on the ground, dead. "This is awful." She muttered to herself, looking around some more. Then Ocarin's eyes widen when she heard a noise and went to investigate. She was met with a gruesome sight as she saw an Namekian elder, struggling to get up as he laid back against the hut. He was completely beaten up as purple blood dripped from his wounds, swollen eye, and a large gaping hole on the right side of his chest. He didn't have much time left. Ocarin ran over to him and knelt down. He wheezed as he saw her approaching him. Ocarin held her hands up to show that she wasn't any threat to him.
"I'm not an enemy. Please, let me help you." She asked him. The Namekian quickly shook his head. He coughed as he spoke in Namekian to her.
"Not me. Help him. Those monsters have gone after them! You have to save them!"
"Who?" Ocarin questioned.
"They're not too far from here." He pointed out towards the direction. Ocarin looked to where he was pointing at and she could sense four energies over the ridge. There were three not so powerful and one very small. The Namekian elder began to cough violently making Ocarin quickly turn back to him. "Please, you have to save them. You have to-" The Namekian elder's eyes rolled back and he let out a shallow gasp before his head lolled to the side, no longer moving. Ocarin stood up and quickly ran in the direction the Namekian elder pointed out to.
"This has to end!"
Ocarin stopped over the edge of the ridge and peeked over, looking down below, quietly. She saw three of Frieza's soldiers standing over a small Namekian child, wearing a yellow vest over purple robes and a purple sash with a hut in ruins behind them. The child bared his fangs at the three soldiers, backing away from the three men. One of the soldiers chuckled and kicked the Namekian child in the face, knocking them down on the ground.
"You might have some information about the Dragon balls. You're coming with us." One of Frieza's solders said as he picked the child up by his collar. She had enough of this. Ocarin got up and quickly teleported behind the three soldiers.
"That's just sad. A bunch of grown men picking on a little kid." She frowned, narrowing her eyes at them. The soldiers turned around, startled, as they didn't sense her. The soldier dropped the Namekian child and they quickly ran taking cover behind the desolated hut.
"Who the hell are you!?" a soldier demanded, aiming his laser gun at Ocarin.
"I want you and your men and who ever your leader is, to get off of this planet and leave the Namekians alone. This is your final warning." He fired the rifle and Ocarin deflected the beam as she smacked it away, exploding the cliff behind her. The three men charged at her, ready to strike her down. Ocarin sighed. "I warned them. They just didn't listen." She quickly took out each of the three soldiers one by one, sending one smashing into the cliff, another into the water, and the last one she blasted with an energy beam, disintegrating them.
Sensing no more around, Ocarin turned back to the hut, walking over to it. "Hey, are you okay? They didn't rough you up too bad, did they?" She saw the Namekian child peek out, seeing that the danger was gone but frowned once he saw her approaching him.
"S-Stay away!" The child shouted in Namekian at her. "You're one of them, aren't you!"
"In case you haven't noticed, I just saved your butt." Ocarin spoke back to him in Namekian, chuckling. The child's eyes widen in surprise hearing her speak Namekian before glaring at her again, distrustfully.
"I don't believe you!" He shook his head. "Everyone from my village was killed by people from outer space. You came from outer space too, right? You're evil too, aren't you?!" Ocarin stared at him, the more she did then more the child reminded her of Piccolo.
"I'm sorry about your village. I promise you that I am not evil. We are here to help." Ocarin told him.
"We? There are more of you!?" The Namekian exclaimed, looking at her more fear in his eyes.
"Yeah, there are three others here as well." Ocarin nodded. Then a low rumble was heard, making Ocarin look down at the child, who held his stomach. "Huh? Oh, are you hungry?" She smiled, softly at him. The child's cheeks turned purple and quickly he shook his head.
"S-Shut up! What's it to you!?"
"Wait here. I'll be back." Ocarin told him and she walked away for a moment, the child watched her as she left. Ocarin scooped some water, she found in a well nearby, into a canteen then came back and she held it out to him. "Here, drink this." The child's eyes widened as he stared at the canteen then back Ocarin who was waiting for him to take it.
"Y-You went to all that trouble...N-No. Something's not right. You poisoned it, didn't you?!" He accused.
"It's just normal water." Ocarin insisted. She poured a little into her hands, taking a small sip, showing him. "See."
"H-Hmph. Whatever." The Namekian took it from her and drank from the canteen until it was empty. Ocarin smiled.
"It's good, right?"
"Yeah." The child nodded.
"What's your name?" Ocarin asked him.
"Necke." He answered her. "Matto espen?"
"Ocarin." She told him. Necke blinked in surprise at her.
"You have an Namekian name? And can speak Namekian. That's strange." He replied before he quickly covered his mouth and started to cough violently. "Wh-What's going on?" Ocarin's eyes widen, looking at him.
"Are you alright?!" She asked in concern.
"I-I can't drink water anymore!" The child shouted.
"What happened?" Ocarin questioned. "There must be something wrong with his body." She turned back to Necke. "Um, I did see some fruit on my way over here. Would that help?"
"Fruit? I've never had it before." Necke said. Ocarin nodded.
"I'll go get you some. Just wait here and stay out of sight for a bit." She quickly left, heading towards a patch of Ajisa trees, seeing some strange fruit baring from them and some lying on the ground. They were small and round like pearls and pink. Ocarin quickly gathered a few and rushed back to the Namekian child. He saw her as she came back. "I'm back and I brought some fruit! Here. Maybe this will help." She held out the berries to him and Necke hesitantly took them from her. He stared down, not taking a bite.
"I-Is it not good?" Ocarin asked him. Necke shook his head.
"N-No, it's not that. I've never had fruit before, so I'm not sure how to eat it." He said to her. Ocarin blinked at him for a second before she smiled and pointed to her mouth. "I'll show you."
Necke watched her before he took some of the berries and plopped a few into his mouth and began to chew some they way she showed him how to do. "So, how is it?" Ocarin saw the child's eyes go wide and stuck his tongue out.
"Blergh. It's bitter."
Ocarin smiled, apologetically. "Sorry. I guess I should've tasted it first."
"But I can eat it. I think I feel a little better now. This is all really new to me. I've never felt this sensation before." Necke said, thanking her. Ocarin smiled and Necke went back to eating a little while she began to think of what to do before an idea came to mind.
"I have friend who might help. It might be a lot safer if you come with me. She might be able to know what's going on with you." She said to him. Necke nodded.
"Okay." Ocarin smiled and bent down picking him up. "Up we go!" Necke's eyes widen as he squirmed in her arms.
"Wait! I can fly on my own!" Ocarin didn't hear him and she quickly flew off, hiding back to the cave hideout, masking her energy a little. "Wanna ride on my back? It might be more fun. And you might not get a chance like this ever again."
"I told you! I can fly on my own!" Necke shouted at her again. Ocarin rolled her eyes and placed him on her back. She felt the child grip her shirt as she went a little faster. Necke began to laugh a little.
"Want me to go a little faster?" She smiled.
"Yes!" Necke quickly nodded. Ocarin chuckled. "Alright, hold on!" She went faster and the two felt the wind blowing against them. Ocarin saw Bulma, waiting outside along with Krillin and Gohan and Dende. She landed down in front of them.
"You're back! Did you find any Dragon balls?" Bulma asked. Ocarin shook her head.
"No. No Dragon balls. But I did find something else." She smiled and reached behind her back, pulling Necke out. Bulma, Gohan and Krillin's eyes widen in shock to see another Namekian alive. Ocarin placed him on the ground. Dende eyes widen as well, recognizing him.
"Necke!" He smiled running over, grabbing Necke's hands.
"Dende!" Necke hugged him and Dende hugged him back.
"You're okay!"
"Seems like you've made it out, too." Necke said. The group smiled, looking at the two reunion and Ocarin turned to Bulma.
"Bulma, I want to talk to you about this Namekian child. His body can't handle water, but he can eat some food, which is unusual sense Namekians usually need water to live on. Do you know what might be wrong with him?" She asked her. Bulma blinked, scratching her chin thinking.
"If I had to guess, all of these abnormalities might have happened in his head and body. So instead of his body absorbing nutrients from water. He has to get his nutrients from food, like us." Necke looked at her, listening as he waited.
"Do you know what to do to fix it?" Ocarin asked the scientist. Bulma shook her head.
"I'm sorry. I have no clue. Namekian biology isn't exactly my expertise." Necke looked down at the ground. Ocarin patted him on his head, making him look up at her.
"Hey, don't be sad. I'm sure your body will return to normal eventually." She told him.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" Necke asked her.
"How can I not? You're adorable!" Ocarin smiled. Dende smiled as well, elbowing Necke in the arm.
"See, Ne sinti!" Dende said to him. Necke's cheeks turned purple and so did his ears.
"Shut up!" He hissed. Dende turned towards the group.
"I still don't understand why you are all here or how you know about the Dragon balls. Please. Please tell me that you are here to help us!"
"Frieza and his men killed some friends of ours, two of them meant a lot to me. We are here to wish them back." Ocarin told him.
"Yeah, their names are Kami and Piccolo. Kami is the guardian of our planet and the creator of our Dragon balls. If we get them back, we can wish everyone that was killed back to life." Krillin explained to Dende.
"And once dad gets here. He'll make every single last one of them pay!" Gohan smiled. Ocarin nodded.
"Then we must fight them! I know someone who can help. I can take you to our grand elder!" Dende said.
"Grand elder?" Krillin asked.
"Who is he?" Ocarin wondered as well.
"He is very wise, and he is the father of all Nameks. He alone survived the terrible storm that nearly destroyed our world, and he is the one responsible for repopulating it so far. We are all his children. I'm, myself is his 108th child." Dende explained to them.
"Wow. He's been busy." Ocarin remarked.
"But how did he do it all by himself?" Bulma asked.
"What do you mean, how? He spit the eggs out of his mouth, of course." Dende said, bluntly. Bulma blinked in confusion.
"Oh. So he's a female?"
"Female?" Dende turned his head to the side. "What's a female?"
Bulma's mouth dropped and she gaped at him in shock and turned to Krillin. "Can you believe it? There's no specific gender here. They're all one type. I'm sure glad I'm not a Namek!"
"So you really think that seeing this elder will do us some good?" Krillin asked Dende. Dende nodded.
"Yes. But it's important that we go quickly. The one's who attacked my village already have five of the Dragon balls. And if another village is being attacked right now as you say then that's six. He has the last one."
"Then we need to go now! Vegeta will sense his power from miles away. For all we know he could be on his way already." Krillin said, worried.
"Exactly! We must warn the eldest Namek that he's coming! Come with me! Please!" Dende pleaded, grabbing onto Krillin's gi.
"It's risky but we'll be in even more danger if Frieza gets that Dragon ball." Gohan said.
"Then let's go." Ocarin replied.
"You lead the way. Ocarin and I will follow." Krillin told Dende. Dende smiled. Krillin turned to Gohan. "I want you to wait here with Bulma until we get back, okay? We can't let Vegeta sense us both."
"You're right. It'll be better if we split up." Gohan agreed.
"I'm coming too." Necke insisted. Dende shook his head.
"No, Necke, you stay here with them! So many has died already. I can't lose you too!" Dende shouted.
"But I know a short cut to get there faster!" Necke argued. The two began to argue and Ocarin stepped in.
"Hey, Dende maybe it's better if Necke comes with us. He seems pretty adamant on going. I promise I won't let anything happen to him or you."
Dende stared at her for a moment before making a hesitant nod. Krillin, Ocarin, Dende and Necke slowly began to lift up from the ground, hovering above Bulma and Gohan as they began to take off.
"See ya!" Krillin waved.
"We won't be gone long!" Ocarin said to the two and the four quickly flew off, heading towards the mysterious Grand elder.
Namekian language:
"Ne sinti."-He/She seems well/nice.
"Matto espen?"-What is your name?
#Dragon Ball#fanfiction#Dragon Ball Z#dragon ball oc#Dende#frieza saga#namekian#Namekian saga#krillin#gohan#bulma#Read more
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Storm and a Flood, pt. 1
8 November, 2023
I was writing to our friend in Los Angeles last Thursday afternoon, responding to a message she had sent inquiring about the state of affairs in Tuscany and Italy, in general, given reports of bad weather and flooding. Some of you may recall that this past summer the Emilia Romagna region was hit with unseasonable late spring and summer rain that flooded vast areas of the flat, low lying areas and washed out roads and homes in the more mountainous areas. Francesca had to work around the problems this created for some train lines going southeast from Bologna to the Adriatic coast where she had to work.
In the last few weeks there has been a number of storms that have brought rain on the northern part of Tuscany where Prato sits nestled up against the Calvana hills (calva means bald in Italian, so it signifies that these hills have no trees on top) and close to the Apennine range that runs northwest to southeast across the country. Autumn rain is pretty usual, and as the olive picking season begins in mid to late October, the concern is always for getting the fruit picked before a big storm, or waiting after a storm to allow things to dry. This year we had a couple of short intense storms that brought rain on us, and it so happened that twice during these downpours the power went out for a bit. The first time it took the electric company several hours to restore the service. They had to drive out to the village to open up the old switch box to set things right.
Through my kids I was aware that a large storm was on the way this last weekend, but here in Prato there was little warning or announcement that anything unusual was expected. So we all went about our business as usual. We were lucky that our friend and contractor had sealed the skylight window above the stairs in the Paolo and Giovanna’s house so that the rain wouldn’t drip down inside anymore, and I had cleared the rain gutters on the upper corner where I could reach to make sure there would be as little overflow as possible. Our friend Monica, who I met in Los Angeles almost 35 years ago and now lives in the Val d’Elsa, came to Prato on Thursday morning to drop off her pet bunny rabbit at the kennel in Prato where she always does when she is going off on a trip. I picked her up at the train station and we ran out to the Villa Fiorita area near Figline on the other side of the Bisenzio from Villa Rucellai, dropped off Bambi the bunny, and then we had lunch in the big kitchen.
It was a gray day, and it was drizzling in the morning, but it was not particularly cold. As we finished our coffee after lunch Monica suggested we go for a walk, but we found that the rain was getting stronger, and while it wasn’t enough to keep us from a quick turn among the olive trees, the wet weather from the previous week had made the ground a bit muddy, so we didn’t go. I took Monica back to the train station and she caught her ride back to Firenze Rifredi where she would change for a train for Empoli and home to Castelfiorentino. It was already a sign of things to come (although not totally clear because trains around here can often run late due to work along the rails) that at 2:30, Monica caught the train that had been expected at 2:00. The train she expected to catch at 2:45 was going to be 50 minutes late. My wife was expected to arrive at 9:00 that evening coming from Lugano by way of Milan, so I sent her a message to let her know that many of the trains were delayed and to be ready for a long journey. As I drove back to Canneto, I went to the market to get milk and bread for the weekend, and the rain began to fall more steadily. Since the clocks had fallen back only recently, I was still getting to how dark it got seemingly so early in the day. The day before was the feast of All Saints, and I had been outside at the cemetery of Canneto with my wife’s cousin and my brother in law. By 5:30 things were pretty dark outside and the street lights had been on for 20 minutes or so. Only after the sun went down did we begin to feel a faint bit of cold, and it was more due to the wetness of everything than the air temperature. So I was very happy to be inside the house as the rain began to fall more steadily. My wife sent me a text to let me know that she would really love to have a salad fresh from the garden when she arrived, but I told her that it was raining and I was reluctant to go out. In fact, at that moment it was suddenly really coming down, a downpour similar to what we had had a week before, and looking out the window it appeared like a fog. Then the power went out.
It is important to note that the frantoio (the olive oil mill) was hard at work making olive oil. As different people’s loads of olive paste enter the large separator centrifuge, the machine is paused and when it begins to spin again, you can feel the vibration through the building and the lights in the big kitchen will make a reflexive dimming as an electric load goes toward the work. When the frantoio is working there is a constant hum from the machinery that you can feel and hear, and when the power goes off, there is sudden silence. The white noise drops out and all the other sound comes up.
After I lit a few candles, I noticed in the twilight outside that the rain had slowed and almost stopped. The downpour was slowing, but the accumulated water was flowing across the piazzale like a river flowing. The urge came decisively that it was the only moment to go to the garden to get some salad for my wife. The lull in the storm was only going to last so long.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Riverbend Festival's 40th Year Celebration Roars Through Chattanooga
As the summer heat settled into the city of Chattanooga, the area downtown near the Tennessee Aquarium underwent a transformation as it has every year for the better part of the past 40 years. 2023 saw a continuation of the festival that has welcomed some of the biggest names in music across multiple genres. This year’s festival continued this tradition and treated the citizens of Chattanooga and fans from all around the country and even the world to an excellent three days of live music.
Ross’s Landing in downtown Chattanooga was transformed into a compact concert festival grounds featuring three stages. There was also a large display established for Chevrolet where fans could even test drive vehicles. Along with this, the Tennessee Valley Authority had multiple electric vehicles on-site as well. There were also multiple food vendors including festival favorites, Island Noodles. There were also activities on site including a selfie wall, axe throwing, giant Jenga and corn hole.
Each day had its stand outs and we’d like to take some time highlighting a few of these here for you. On day one, the festival began a bit later and so there were fewer acts. The evening culminated in a performance by Maren Morris but for us at ConcertHopper, the stand out for the day was COIN. The band was so full of energy and they left everything on the stage for the fans in attendance.
For day two of the festival, we were treated to a longer schedule which gave us more artists to take in. Closing out the day was Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats. For me though, as a kid who sat in the back of the bus with a CD player while in high school, I had blasted Stankonia by Outkast. And, while stationed in Okinawa, Japan, I had performed karaoke to Outkast songs. So for me, Big Boi was a highlight of day two and I was not disappointed. Surrounded by thousands of fellow fans, we all sang in unison to hit after hit from both the Outkast and Big Boi’s solo catalogs.
Another stand out for day two is probably someone who most of the readers will be familiar with but, for me at least, there was only a very narrow familiarity with the artist. Gayle, perhaps most famous for her songs that make their appearances all over TikTok put on a killer performance. Fresh off of a run with Taylor Swift and her Eras tour, Gayle brought a decidedly punk rock vibe to Riverbend festival. Also, as a surprise, Gayle and her band covered Paramore’s “Misery Business” much to the delight of the fans.
Moving on to day three, storms had gathered in the areas surrounding Chattanooga and the buzz about the festival was whether we would skate by without a rain delay. Inevitably, this turned out to not be the case as, during Blackberry Smoke’s set thunder clouds rolled into the area and forced the concert to shut down. Fortunately the stoppage was only temporary and Trombone Shorty graciously relinquished a bit of their set so that Les Claypool’s Fearless Flying Frog Brigade was still able to play, albeit with a shortened set.
In spite of all of this, our favorites of the day were a band that we selected ahead of the festival in our acts to watch for. Doom Flamingo provided some beautifully hybridized music that perfectly blended jazz, pop, dance and electronic music amongst other genres. Powerful vocals pelted those who were either lucky or smart enough to show up early enough in time to see the group perform.
Another standout performance was a very historical one and that was Mavis Staples. To call Staples anything short of a legend would be doing her a huge disservice. She’s not only a talented vocalist and songwriter but a devout figure standing out amongst the titans of the civil rights movement in America. She’s a multiple Grammy winner, a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award winner, named one of the 100 Greatest Singers of all Time and is an inductee to the Blues, Gospel and Rock and Roll Halls of Fame. Seeing her perform was truly an event that I will be forever grateful for having borne witness to.
All in all, Riverbend was a great success this year. The festival could have easily folded during the pandemic but it persisted. For 40 years now, the festival has brought joy to the summer droves of Chattanooga and we certainly hope there will be 40 more years of this festival to come. We’ll see you all next year on the banks of the Tennessee River in Chattanooga for what is undoubtedly going to be another great festival year.
As always, please feel free to browse around ConcertHopper’s website further and check out our articles covering a wide variety of topics. Please also check us out on social media on our Facebook and Instagram pages. Life is a beautiful thing and music only adds to that beauty, take some time to get out and celebrate beauty and life with a community of like-minded individuals at a concert soon, it’s always worth the price of admission.
#festivals#festival#music#riverbend festival#concerthopper#music festival preview#review#music festival#goose#big boi#chattanooga#tennessee#new music#friends#photography#2023
0 notes
Text
Sixth day of no power for many rural southeast New Brunswick residents
The effects of the ice storm that hit parts of New Brunswick on Monday are still being felt in rural areas south of Moncton.
It's been a long, hard week without power for residents of Riverside-Albert, Harvey, New Horton, Waterside, Alma and a few other small communities.
Clarke Brewster lives in Harvey, which is just up the road from Riverside-Albert. He was filling up gas tanks at the village's station in order to re-fuel his generator.
"She's been kind of rough," said Brewster when asked about his week. "I've been living on my own. My wife just went into a nursing home last Thursday so I'm trying to get used to being by myself."
Brewster said the biggest obstacle has been trying to stay warm.
"Keeping a little bit of heat in the house is the biggest thing. I have a wood furnace but I got to have the generator running so the fan will blow the heat," said Brewster.
He said he's never seen a storm hit the power system as hard as Monday's.
"This is the worst I've seen it here," he said.
Saturday was the sixth day without power for Brewster and roughly 630 other NB Power customers in Albert County.
Ryan MacDonald of nearby Caledonia Mountain is one of the lucky ones. His power has been back since Wednesday.
"Yeah, this one is a bit extreme. The ice storm took out a lot more trees and everything else than we all expected," said MacDonald.
Steaming coffee and a hot meal was waiting for anyone who needed it at the Rec Centre in Riverside-Albert, which is now a daily warming station.
Village of Fundy Albert Mayor Rob Rochon is urging residents to reach out to their neighbours, especially if they're seniors, to see if they need help.
"Right now, with six days of people not having power, we've got people who are losing food. People's homes are getting very cold and my concern is if this continues people's homes are going to be damaged as a result of freezing water lines," said Rochon.
Former Riverside-Albert Mayor Jim Campbell said people in the region are a resilient group.
"Well, we're a rural community. The Village of Riverside-Albert has approximately 400 people and we all kind of look after each other. If someone is unfortunate and doesn't have a generator we'll bring one over and make sure they get a meal," said Campbell.
Heavy ice build up from Monday's storm caused extensive damage to transmission lines in the area.
On Tuesday night, a power line technician from NB Power died and another seriously injured while doing restoration work roughly 20 kilometres away on the Albert Mines Road.
Rochon said being without power for six days is a bit extreme, but people understand it's not as simple as flipping a switch.
"We also need to be mindful that there was a serious accident that probably contributed to the delay," said Rochon. "So, we're very mindful of that and people's hearts are really going out to the NB Power family."
Rochon brought portable generators and water to warming centres in Alma, N.B., which is also in the dark.
NB Power spokesperson Dominique Couture confirmed Saturday morning that restoration work is underway at the outage site in Albert County.
"Due to the complexity of the repairs required, this may take time," said Couture in a statement to CTV News. "We anticipate being able to restore power to customers some time Sunday."
Couture said NB Power understands being without power for a long period of time is difficult to cope with.
"We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience this causes and appreciate our customer’s continued patience and understanding as we work to restore their service," said Couture.
from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/3rsQSfB
1 note
·
View note
Text
Saturday Morning Coffee
It’s grey outside this morning, low fog, and we expect rain later in the morning that should go until midnight tonight. My what a difference a week makes. Last week at this time is was 8 Fahrenheit outside, this week 49 Fahrenheit at 8AM. Weird.
My first cup is steaming on the table next to me. It’s delicious. ☕️
NBC News
WASHINGTON — A federal judge indicated Wednesday that then-President Donald Trump’s remarks on Jan. 6 telling a crowd to “fight like hell” before the Capitol attack could have signaled to his supporters that he wanted them “to do something more” than just protest.
It seems obvious to all of us TFG riled up his supporters and sent them marching to the Capitol to overthrow the will of the people. Of course he’s likely to get away with it, run for President, win again, and never leave office. Thus destroying our democracy.
I hate being so negative but I haven’t seen anything that makes me believe justice will eventually come home to roost for TFG.
Ashur Cabrera
Thanks to my instance admins, though, seeing the red no alt badge is a simple way for me to know not to boost that post. Conversely, an alt badge gives me the green light to boost, knowing the author has taken the time to describe the image.
My friend, Ashur, on why it’s important to add alt text to images in your Mastodon posts. It’s all about accessibility.
Mac Rumors
Historically, Apple released at least one new Mac model every year in the fourth quarter that runs between October and December, starting in 2001 with the launch of the iBook G3. This means that there has been a new Mac toward the end of the year for the entire lifespan of product lines including the iPod, iPhone, iPad, and Apple Watch.
While I still love me some Apple devices I don’t really pay much attention to what’s happening with Apple releases. Most of the end of the year Apple enthusiast angst is around their promise to convert the entire Mac line to use Apple Silicon. They didn’t make it.
Meanwhile I’m plugging along on my 2019 MacBook Pro and it’s a perfectly great computer. Yes, even for writing code.
Rob Napier
We spend so much time drilling algorithmic complexity. Big-O and all that. But performance is so often about contention and memory, especially when working in parallel.
I see Rob Napier’s name all over Stack Overflow when I have a question about iOS or Mac Programming. This little piece walks through his process to optimize some code. I love these types of posts.
Not Just Bikes
I tried the “Full Self-Driving (Beta)” on a Model Y in Toronto. It was terrifying.
I don’t want a full self driving car and I have zero confidence in Tesla ever creating a good one, much less a perfect one. Musk is delusional and rapidly slipping into insanity after his purchase of Twitter. More on that later.
Don’t waste your money on a Tesla, there are lots of really great EV’s on the market now.
Mobile Syrup
After a heavy winter storm hit southern Ontario and parts of Quebec around December 25th, one lucky home could keep the lights on via the power from a Ford Lightning.
Speaking a a great EV! How cool is it to have the ability to power your home when the power goes out? I’d like to have that ability. I mean prices start at less than $40,000.00! 😳 Who can afford these things? I can’t. 😕
The North Shore Leader
Controversial US congressional candidate George Santos has finally filed his Personal Financial Disclosure Report on September 6th - 20 months late - and he is claiming an inexplicable rise in his alleged net worth to $11 million..
This Santos guy is a real piece of work, just like TFG. He’s nothing more than a grifter and he’s going to be a Representative for New York’s 3rd congressional district. Hogwash, I say. He should be expelled for lying and we need a better systems in place to vet any candidate before they’re allowed to run for office.
Seat 31B
A lot of people have been asking for an explainer on what is going on with Southwest Airlines and the massive meltdown that has occurred.
This whole Southwest thing is a real mess. It sounds like they need to invest heavily in their digital infrastructure. I know a company full of great folks who could help fix it.
David Penfold
Eating too much cake is the sin of gluttony. However, eating too much pie is okay because the sin of pi is always zero.
Lovely, geeky, dad joke. I had to share it.
Denny Henke
Building the tiny house, setting up the garden and food forest during the first summer. Then, of course, learning about living in the tiny house during winter and what that means for keeping warm and keeping things working.
This is a really great series of posts! Our youngest daughter is taken with the idea of living in a tiny home. Guess I should pass this series of articles on to her? 🤔
Dave Rogers
But, like anyone I suppose, I have darker moods from time to time; and I often find that I’m reluctant to post those thoughts at the marmot. They’re not strictly political, though politics has a role in why they exist.
I love reading Dave’s work. He’s a very thoughtful man and shares wonderful stories about life, tech, and photography. This post is out of the norm for him but I understand exactly where he’s coming from. I have these thoughts myself and I often wonder how many folks share them with me.
You’re not alone, my friend. ❤️
Dave Winer
One of the reasons I chose Twitter for identity for my apps, a decision made in 2014, is that I hoped that a developer community would grow up around Twitter. I hoped that Twitter would take a chance on co-promoting products. It could still happen, but it seems unlikely now.
With Twitter imploding there’s a decent chance Dave will have to swap out his identity system. As nice as it would be to not have to do it, it seems somewhat inevitable unless Musk can turn things around at Twitter.
Time for my third and final cup of coffee. See y’all next week. ☕️
0 notes
Text
in the beginning
a/n: wow! thank you so much for all the love you gave me with never! i never expected that kind of reaction :> here's another gojo fic I wrote a couple months back, you can consider it as a prologue of the relationship or smth but it can also be a stand-alone. the fic was longer, where I included what happened directly after the wedding but I felt like this had a better conclusive ending. i can post it as part two if you want
please enjoy the fic and don't hesitate to comment with some criticisms or your general feelings abt the fic! thank you once again!
summary: the beginning of y/n and gojo
my masterlist
The night was quiet, aside from the calming buzz of cicadas. The cool air blows gently between both of you, lifting your hair as if you were inside some commercial. It was full and bright from where you stand with Gojo (Satoru, you quickly correct yourself. You’d be a Gojo soon enough), bathing you in the moonlight. If you were any other person, you’d think you were in some romantic getaway with your lover. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The reality was much crueler.
It was calm before the storm.
“I…” Satoru starts. “...I’m not ready to be a father, Y/N.” His body faces the beautiful scenery of lush trees in front of you with his hands in his pockets, but his face is slightly tilted to you. His usual blindfold is off, replaced by the shades you’d given him back then, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his striking eyes.
You scoff. “You’re telling me this now when we’re getting married tomorrow?” You roll your eyes in another direction, to anywhere but Satoru. Your tone was cold and hard as you felt the bitter anger rise in you again at the reminder that you were to be expected to breed like cattle, all for a hopeful offspring that can inherit your Cursed Techniques or be somehow stronger than Satoru.
The anger quickly died down as you glanced at him in your peripheral vision. Satoru was in this too, he was to be expected to breed with you, forced to raise his future children to be a soldier in a world they didn’t choose like the both of you at this moment. You make the mental note to be considerate of his feelings as well. That’s what marriage is about anyway. Right?
His childhood was pleasant from an outsider's point of view; born with techniques that make him a god, a silver spoon in his mouth, and hails from one of the three great clans. But that suffocated him. It's why Satoru is so carefree with a happy-go-lucky vibe and a problem with authority. They have dictated everything he did since he was born. You and Satoru are fools if you don't realize that the same will be done to your children.
“I’m not ready to be a mother too,” you confess, tone softer, laced with understanding. I never wanted to be one in the first place, you think but don’t bother to say. It doesn’t matter. You’re going to have to be one soon enough. “But they’re going to expect an heir and several spares as soon as possible.”
Then it was silent again, Satoru not bothering to contradict your statement. It was a fact, and it's what triggered the series of events that led you here anyway.
Some of you wonder if Satoru has ever wondered about a family of his own with a wife he actually chose. Against your better judgment, you decide to ask him exactly that. Communication is the key to any relationship, right?
“Have you ever dreamed of a family with a wife you love?”
You expected him to look at you and giggle, some half-meant tease running out of his mouth. Instead, he turned to you fully, glasses lowered, and stared. “Have you?” he asked, throwing your question back at you.
“Family? No.” You answered. “But a spouse...once in a while.” You admit, lowering your head, staring at the ground instead. You have not admitted this to anyone. Despite knowing that the possibility of you getting married off to another clan was rather great, the idea of having a family with someone you don’t love seemed meaningless. That and your utter fear of pregnancy and childbirth. You’ve seen many friends struggle with issues that are rooted in bad parenting. You don’t want that. You don’t ever want that. A spouse, however...that was a dream you’d let yourself dream when your guards are down.
“Nevertheless, they will demand a child from us. They will have a cruel fate,” you muse, staring at the ground. “If they get our cursed techniques, they’ll become a toy. If they don’t, they’ll be shamed. I don’t want that.”
"No, they won't." He replies in a firm voice. I'll protect them, goes unsaid in the cool air. You find yourself agreeing. We'll protect them.
You feel fingers below your chin, pushing your head back up for your gaze to meet with Satoru’s. His glasses were off, and you concluded that you’d never get tired staring at his eyes. It was breathtakingly blue as if there were oceans and ice glaciers hidden underneath. He stares at you for a few moments and you let him. You feel him search for something in you before curling his lips into a smile.
“Alright! It’s settled, then!” He exclaims the usual joy back in his voice. “We'll make it work, Y/N-chan.”
The disbelief escapes from your mouth before you could even control it. “Y/N-chan?” you repeat scandalized. You were many things to Gojo Satoru and he has called you such. You’d been L/N when you first met, Y/N when you got closer, 'kouhai' when he wanted to brag about how powerful he was, 'wifey' when after the announcement of your engagement or when he’s feeling mischievous in front of anyone (“We aren’t married yet, Gojo-san.” You’d remind him every time), but he has never called you Y/N-chan. You cringe.
“Whaaat?” He whines, a pout forming on his face. “You don’t like it? How about darling? I heard British people say it to each other during my visit to Europe! Dah-ling.” Satoru tried, purposefully lowering his voice, trying his hardest to have a British accent.
You burst out with a laugh, squeezing your stomach, folding over. Your eyes were squeezed shut in bliss, lost in a brief moment of happiness so you don’t see Satoru smiling softly at your laughing form.
Once you’ve calmed down, you turn away and start walking towards the path to the Gojo residence. “Let’s go, they’re probably looking for us.”
“Pbshhh,” Gojo replied, hurrying to your walking figure. “They’d probably think we’re doing something naughty~”
“Oi!” You scolded, pulling his ear. “Someone might hear you!” You could imagine the possibilities. You’d never know when someone can be hiding in the dark. You suddenly imagined the possible situation that your own father would’ve heard him. Not only would you be embarrassed, but he would most likely give you and Satoru a proud nod. He and the other Elders were the ones who pioneered your marriage anyway.
Gojo rolled his eyes at you. “It’s not like we aren’t allowed to do it.” He said with a huff. “You’re going to be my wifey!”
“We’re not married yet, Satoru.”
Though you’d come back to the residence the way you left, with your hands behind your back and his hidden underneath his pockets, the atmosphere between you was not as cold as before.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader
459 notes
·
View notes
Text
would you mind | childe
pairing | childe/reader
word count | 1.9k
genre | developing relationship, light smut, complicated feelings
If ever there was a force greater than the ancient winds of old Mondstadt, it was that harbinger from Snezhnaya. All it took was one afternoon during your shift for him to gain an interest in you—a fascination maybe.
The Fatui weren’t known for a good reputation in Liyue, and it only made you a bit uneasy knowing his high ranking—a cautious approach to a stranger in higher power. You couldn’t deny him and you didn’t dare show disrespect for subtle fear of consequence.
Rumors of people getting blackmailed—or worse— from getting tangled with the Fatui spread like wildfire in the harbor. Though they were baseless accusations, they didn’t stop from simmering in the back of your mind. The ‘what if’ was a damning point your mind made. Rumors didn’t come from nowhere around these parts.
Though Childe carried a sense of danger with him, there was something about him that kept your nerves manageable. The persona he carried was very impressionable, maybe even a little irritating at times. He was a persistent one.
“Mind if I join you for lunch?”
“Sir… I work here.” He knew this, too, yet he always arrived at the tea house with the same line. Still, you were quick to tend to him.
Childe hummed, eyes grinning with him as he happily plopped down at the table you swiftly offered him. “I’ll take that as an opportunity. The usual, please.”
Just treat him like a normal patron, was a personal mantra to get you through a shift at the tea house.
You were just lucky he was well-mannered. It made dealing with him easier. There was something about him that irked you, but at the end of the day he was polite and never forced a conversation if you were busy serving others.
“You don’t seem to talk much these days,” Childe notes as he swirls the remnants of his tea in its cup. It’s nearing closing time and you keep glancing over at the clock as he makes no move to leave. He sighs dramatically, “I miss our conversations.”
It’s playful, knowing full-well you hardly ever speak to avoid trouble from your boss. Maybe you would blame it on the exhaustion of a long shift, maybe put blame on lack of sleep. The comment, however, still makes you break seriousness and you erupt in an abrupt fit of laughter you quickly fight to quiet down. Luckily you’re closing by yourself tonight.
The sound is melodic, surprising Childe as a grin grows on his face. Though your back is turned as your shoulders shake from suppressed laughter, he can see the embarrassed red at the tips of your ears.
Oh, so you did find his company entertaining.
Your back straightens, and when you turn around you’re back to keeping him at a distance with an air of seriousness. Nothing more than work and patrons.
Childe leaves after wishing you a safe trip home and thanks for the wonderful service, as usual. The briskness of the cool night air keeps his mind intrigued once more with the mystery that surrounds you. Duty in Liyue was getting quite boring, and he decided to indulge in figuring you out.
“Would you mind if I joined you for a stroll?”
The familiar ginger hair strode up matching your pace. In the bustling crowd of the harbor, his presence sticks out like the cries of seagulls overhead. Maybe it’s your paranoia, but you swear people make an effort to move away from your little bubble he now infiltrated.
Still, he’s a harbinger.
So you nod quietly.
“I’m just running errands. It’s quite boring.” The way his eyes linger on yours for a second longer has you averting your gaze. The smile he wears… since when did it make your chest squeeze?
“I’m sure not as boring as some of the tasks I’m given,” he chuckles.
“Paperwork, I’m sure,” you guess idly. The vague smile he throws you has something about it that sends chills running down your spine.
“Something like that.”
The chuckle you give him is a little nervous. You aren’t sure what tasks he gets but you aren’t sure you’re willing to find out.
“Feel free to join me if you’d like, then.”
And for the rest of the day he patiently strolls around with you around the harbor through idle chatter. From dock to dock he follows, offering to pay the entire sum of anything on your errands list. The unlimited financial power he holds both terrifies and amazes you.
From then on, his company became frequent on your errand runs. Many shop keepers at first got anxious with a Fatui agent escorting you around, but his bright charisma won them over eventually. Business was business in the end, and his tendency to let the shopkeeper ‘keep the change’ won the favor of many.
You forgot when exactly you stopped trying to shake him off altogether. Perhaps you got too complacent since there was little you could do. Some days you even enjoyed his company. Childe was a good listener on days when you were a little more talkative, and he would always answer with utmost sincerity.
Yes, you looked forward to his little greeting and chance encounters on the harbor. Part of you hated the fact that you got so comfortable with him but the louder part of you was conflicted with bubbling feelings for the harbinger. For months on end you kept those feelings suppressed in the deepest parts of your heart.
And then the storm season hit.
“Mind some company?”
The water dripped down your face, soaked clothes clinging to your form as you stood under a tree near the outskirts of the harbor. Your eyes were wide, doe-like as you peered up at the familiar voice.
“Oh, sure.” Your eyes drift back to stare absentmindedly at the puddles rippling in the rain. “I was just waiting for the rain to let up a bit so I can make it back home.”
Childe hums, his usual charismatic smile bright on his face. It’s a little dangerous, and makes your heart race. Addicting.
“You know, at this rate you’ll get sick by the time you get home. I say we just make a run for it,” he offers with a devilish grin.
The frown you give him only further amuses him. “Run? Through the pouring rain?”
“Got any better ideas?”
You sigh, the sound of pattering rain filling the silence as you weigh your options.
“Fine. Okay.”
He grins, and you surrender to letting the harbinger have his way in the rain. Through the streets you both run, footsteps cutting through puddles and crowds of people with umbrellas. It’s thrilling and you can’t help but laugh at how fun running through the rain is. You both look like lovers that got caught in an unfortunate circumstance, and your chest wells up with feelings as you watch Childe pull you through crowds and street vendors.
The storm is raging outside, rain pattering on windows that rattle softly from the wind. It’s soaked you both to the bone by the time you arrive at your little flat. The room is quiet save for the rain that relentlessly knocks on the windows.
The quiet sound of panting fills the room as you both catch your breath from running through the rain, towels draped over your heads as you try to warm up.
“It’s pretty rough out there,” Childe notes, looking out the window. “Any longer out there and the wind might have picked you up before I did.”
It’s wordless—the way you join him by the window to look out at a grey city. You give a silent hum as you finish towel-drying your hair. The expression you wear is serious, aloof as you’re unreadable in your thoughts.
Childe is the first to speak, his voice soft and sincere—perhaps a little disappointed at your return to keeping him at arm’s length. “I’ll get going then. Glad you could make it home sa—“
It comes as a surprise—the sudden kiss you give him. Your small hands pull him down by his shirt collar to meet your lips in a rushed kiss. He’s quick to return the gesture, his lips curved in a smirk against yours.
You pull away breathless, face a little flushed. The frown you wear is adorable, a pout almost. “I hate that I like you.”
Childe is at your lips again, a breathy chuckle rumbling through his chest as he cages you against the wall. “And here I was thinking I’d never woo you, what with you not liking the Fatui and all.”
You cut him off with another kiss to hide the heat rising to your face. “Stop talking.”
He laughs wholeheartedly, his body against yours as you melt against his lips. It’s needy and rough. The sounds of your soft pants and little gasps are washed away by the rumbling thunder outside.
And through the storm, you spend the night. Childe feels like he’s won—gained one step closer to knowing more about you. He wanted to know all your faces, uncover all the mysteries and unknowns you held. And through the night, he learned of your sensitivities, the little noises you made, and the gestures that made your heart leap.
He had you around his finger. But perhaps the same could be said about him.
Early morning comes, the light barely coming through the window to illuminate the dark room. From under a mess of sheets you stir, body sore. Your fingers graze over the blooming markings on your chest and neck.
Beside you Childe sleeps soundly, his broad back dusted in light freckles and scratch marks. The way he hugs the pillow makes his sleeping face look almost kid-like in innocence. You’d never think he was a war machine for an archon.
You push the sinking feeling away, and brush some hair out of his eyes. The featherlight kiss you place atop his head stirs him from his sleep.
“Mornin’. Here I thought you would be gone by now,” he mumbles groggily. With his tousled hair and sleepy smile, you find it incredibly difficult to feel annoyed.
“I live here.”
He chuckles at this, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against him. You scramble to pull the blanket over your bare body and though he finds it amusing, he doesn’t comment on your shyness. “Would you mind if I stayed the morning, then? The rain isn’t letting up anytime soon.”
“That sounds like an awfully obvious lie,” you retort.
It’s hard to ignore the hardness that presses against your abdomen. The lack of shame on his content face irks you. Still, you don’t deny the way your body heats up once more.
“Your face is just so cute when you’re begging,” Childe teases, pressing kisses up your neck.
“Childe, sto—haah.”
In a swift motion, he has you straddling him. You can feel his hardness press against your ass, sending a shudder of anticipation through your body. The ache in your thighs tries to protest against the lust-driven haze clouding your judgement.
Childe’s hands are already massaging the soft flesh at your hips, hands waiting for permission. “What do you say, sweetheart? Another round if you can keep up?”
“Y–You have duties to tend to, don’t you?” you bring up meekly, eyes shut tight as he bites a sweet spot on your neck that hitches your breath. Slowly, your mind is losing itself, drunk on his attention again.
With a smirk against your skin, he answers simply, “They won’t mind my whereabouts in this weather.”
#childe#childe x reader#childe/reader#tartaglia#childe genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin#light smut#pwp#Childe being a hilariously persistent idiot#developing relationship#mii writes#drabble collection: coffee break for two#I’m going to punch Childe with my lips just you wait#fatui#liyueharbor
368 notes
·
View notes
Text
the game {draco x reader}
masterlist
---
you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.
it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.
it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise.
you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.
you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning.
and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.
you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.
“evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”
her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”
“oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”
“my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”
draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”
you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.
you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future.
and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.
“let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”
you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”
he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is.
draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”
“the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”
draco blinks, startled.
narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”
the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”
narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.
you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate.
you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.
“so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”
“i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”
“i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”
draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”
“didn’t call you anything.”
“you called me a muggle.”
you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”
he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”
“i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”
draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.
“you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”
you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”
“i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”
“he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”
“and what if i tell him?”
the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously.
he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”
“are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”
draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”
narcissa simply scowls.
you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.
----
it gets easier over time.
all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.
it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.
you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.
tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.
you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.
you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.
you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.
----
“he’s back.”
like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.
you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”
but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.
“i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”
you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.
breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.
his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.
you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.
you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it.
breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students.
but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.
instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.
his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob.
“where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.
“class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”
“not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”
you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts.
“he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”
draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”
you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”
“it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”
you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”
“shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”
“all i need to do is pick up a history book.”
draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.
“i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”
“i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”
draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”
“the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”
his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.
“you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”
“my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”
you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions.
you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.
you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.
your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again.
you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.
----
charms class really is a pain.
flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.
but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.
today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.
it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.
by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”
“please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.
you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.
as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.
he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.
“can i help you?” you ask.
“yes.”
you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.
you grit your teeth. “with what?”
“i need an electric scooter.”
you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .
you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”
“to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”
you like the sound of that.
“i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”
bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”
your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.
still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-
draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.
you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.
bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.
“what the hell?”
“what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”
you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm.
he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.
in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.
god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.
“again,” you say. “what the hell?”
“i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”
“excuse me?”
“you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”
you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.
but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.
you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”
draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”
“stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”
“do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”
a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.
“i just can’t believe you were so careless.”
“why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question.
you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”
“because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”
your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.
but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.
instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t.
you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.
you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.
there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.
but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free.
---
you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.
but he can’t keep his eyes off you.
he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you.
classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.
alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.
you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.
that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.
but the yelling never came.
draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night.
he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.
you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut.
the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-
and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.
you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him.
finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”
“good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”
he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.
“what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box.
“you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”
you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”
draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”
“nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”
“ouch. that one hurt.”
you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”
“you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”
“not like you care, though, is it?”
draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.
“you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.
“you think?”
“i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”
you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”
he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”
“is that meant to be an apology?”
“how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him.
you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.
but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else.
“you hurt my feelings,” you mumble.
draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”
“well, you did. congratulations.”
“jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”
you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.
but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”
“go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”
“y/n-”
“go, draco!”
he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.
---
the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.
muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.
tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.
you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.
it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless.
a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.
you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-
he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.
a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.
gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”
“did you just try and rob me?” he yells.
“no! no, of course-”
“you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.
his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.
“son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”
“before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”
your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”
the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.
you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”
“are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid.
“oh. i guess i am.”
“christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.
you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”
“clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”
“he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”
draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.
you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.
she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.
“what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”
“oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”
“be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body.
narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.
“sorry about this.”
narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”
“put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”
“you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”
“i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”
“draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”
draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad.
narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard.
“i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”
“who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”
“no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”
he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”
“so i’m sorry.”
draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”
you blink. “alright.”
“you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”
your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”
“yeah. i think you would.”
you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”
“you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”
your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.
despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”
“don’t say it.”
his lips twist. “i have to.”
“no you don’t.”
“do you love me?”
your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.
but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.
you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away.
“cat got your tongue?” he whispers.
you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”
“you want the truth?”
he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.
“yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”
slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”
but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.
but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain.
you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.
you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.
shit.
“don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”
“i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”
“kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”
draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”
you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.
it doesn’t.
“oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”
he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.
but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.
“you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.
your eyes widen. “hey!”
“kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”
you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.
he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”
“i still don’t believe you.”
he raises a brow. “why?”
you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”
his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.”
before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.
you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.
he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.
you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
“so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”
draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”
“don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”
“you could have.”
“but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”
“are you two arguing again?”
you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco.
“i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”
you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”
he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”
“yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”
“yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.
draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”
“oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”
you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look.
you wonder if he’s doing the same.
#harry potter#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fic#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco malfoy fanfic#draco malfoy fic#draco malfoy fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#hp fic#hp#draco x reader
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
✧ — ⋆ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .
from the 2021 album by marina . swearing and blood references present .
ANCIENT DREAMS IN A MODERN LAND .
“ we’re not here so we can blow it all . ”
“ we could bear witness to the ride and fall . ”
“ ancient dreams in a modern land . ”
“ i’m trying to get back as fast i can . ”
“ you don’t have to be like everybody else . ”
“ you are not here to conform . ”
“ i am here to take a look inside myself . ”
“ i could be the eye , the eye of the storm . ”
“ i am not my body , not my mind or my brain . ”
“ i am the observer . ”
“ i live in the space between the stars and the sky . ”
“ what’s your purpose ? ”
“ you could be lost , but you belong to the world . ”
“ the walls are being broken and we’re ready for a change .”
VENUS FLY TRAP .
“ whatever you give life you will get back . ”
“ why be a wallflower when you can be a venus fly trap ? ”
“ i never quite fit in to that hollywood thing . ”
“ i didn’t play that game for the money or the fame . ”
“ i did it my way , baby . ”
“ nothing in this world could change me . ”
“ don’t underestimate me . ”
“ one day you’re gonna see you’re in a losing battle . ”
“ babe , you’ll never stop being me . ”
“ i got the beauty , got the brains . ”
“ got the power , hold the reins . ”
“ i should be motherfucking crazy . ”
“ i sacrificed it all for a life to call mine . ”
“ i know that money ain’t important . ”
“ i earned it all myself , i’m a millionairess . ”
“ they’ll shame you . ”
MAN’S WORLD .
“ i’m a strawberry soda , raise my lashes to heaven . ”
“ stars in my hair running like a waterfall . ”
“ burnt me at the stake , you thought i was a witch centuries ago . ”
“ i don’t wanna live in a man’s world anymore . ”
“ maybe it’s time you comprehend . ”
“ don’t punish me for not being a man . ”
“ women are violets coming to light . ”
“ don’t underestimate the making of life . ”
“ the planet has a funny way of stopping a fight . ”
PURGE THE POISON .
“ all my friends are witches . ”
“ mythical bitches making our own sisterhood . ”
“ while society is falling , we are quietly reforming . ”
“ what have you been doing ? ”
“ you are not my master . ”
“ need to purge the poison . ”
“ nothing’s hidden anymore . ”
“ tell me , who do you think you are ? ”
“ you forgot that without me , you won’t go far . ”
“ truth and all its glory . ”
“ the ending of the story . ”
“ our life as we knew it now belongs to yesterday . ”
“ i just want a world where i can see the feminine . ”
“ cast the moon under our spell . ”
“ owning female power , taking back what’s ours . ”
“ earth is like a white rose . ”
“ a place so corrupt . ”
HIGHLY EMOTIONAL PEOPLE .
“ life is a game that the universe plays . ”
“ we are the pieces in a puzzle called fate . ”
“ emotions unfold like a superbloom in action . ”
“ this is how we’re meant to be . ”
“ we’re just highly emotional people . ”
“ you don’t need to hide . ”
“ sometimes it’s hard to tell me how you feel . ”
“ i never see you cry . ”
“ feelings come up and you push ‘em down . ”
“ i feel your pain ‘cause i know life is hard . ”
“ you can let go of the pain in your heart . ”
“ people say men don’t cry . ”
“ it’s so much easier to lie . ”
NEW AMERICA .
“ everything that made you great only made you bad . ”
“ made the people hate all the good they had . ”
“ i know that you had big dreams . ”
“ abuse won’t make a free land . ”
“ you can’t bury the truth . ”
“ it’s time to play your dues . ”
“ stars are shining for you . ”
“ now our food doesn’t taste like its meant to . ”
“ they’ve got blood on their hands . ”
“ they stole all the land . ”
“ and all the lies they’re here to raise make them feel like a man . ”
“ no matter what , the story’s catching up to you . ”
“ you’ve been in pain for a while . ”
“ you can’t hide your secrets . ”
PANDORA’S BOX .
“ you almost turned me psycho . ”
“ i almost lost my mind . ”
“ i didn’t know the depth yet of someone so unkind . ”
“ you damaged what we had . ”
“ you don’t know what you just unlocked . ”
“ i lose all control . ”
“ let go of my darkest thoughts . ”
“ ‘cause i see the truth when we were stacked against the odds . ”
“ i’ve escaped many vices , but i can never escape the war inside my skull . ”
“ you know that love’s a gift , but it can also be a curse . ”
“ i thought it would get better . i kept my hope alive . ”
“ i don’t wanna be the bearer of pain so we can survive . ”
“ i pray that hope’s not lost . ”
I LOVE YOU , BUT I LOVE ME MORE .
“ i love you , but i love me more . ”
“ don’t come back knocking at my door . ”
“ you’ve had your chance and now you want more . ”
“ do you expect me to believe that you’ve changed ? ”
“ you’re exactly the same . ”
“ you’d rather shut your eyes than feel any pain . ”
“ why did we fuck it up ? ”
“ told you before that love isn’t enough . ”
“ how can i trust you after what i’ve been through ? ”
“ you only care about me when it suits you . ”
“ women love too early and men love too late . ”
“ your promises , they just suffocate . ”
“ why did you mess it up ? ”
“ are you worth the risk ? ”
“ i just can’t make up my mind . ”
“ i’ve been choosing your heart , your heart over mine . ”
“ i don’t understand how you missed all the signs . ”
“ you’ve had your chance and now you want more . ”
FLOWERS .
“ now we’ve reached the end . ”
“ i think it made me stronger . ”
“ i would rather not betray myself just to keep your love at any cost . ”
“ it’s most tempting to give in when you hear the firin’ shots . ”
“ with every careless action , you let me slip away . ”
“ if you just bought me flowers , maybe i would’ve stayed . ”
“ you didn’t think i was serious . ”
“ i guess you felt so safe . ”
“ the seeds we planted grew , but not like roses do . ”
“ we had the thorns and leaves , but the buds never bloomed . ”
“ now my future gleams with colours bold and bright , in a home that’s filled with love and hope . ”
“ it’s more tempting to give in when you’re almost at the top . ”
“ when you’re steps from winning back all the happiness you lost . ”
“ there’s no heartbreak left to feel . ”
“ after you made your choices , i melted away like snow . ”
“ you like lying to yourself . ”
“ now i’ll never know what parts of your love were for real and which parts were for show . ”
GOODBYE .
“ heaven , if there’s a star for us , up there in your lovers’ universe , shine your light down on me . ”
“ another life waits to unfold , maybe one day if we’re lucky . ”
“ i fucked it up , i lost it all . ”
“ my life might not be what i thought , but i wouldn’t change a thing . ”
“ i will never be yours again . ”
“ never wanted our love to end . ”
“ goodbye , my friend . ”
“ maybe we won’t meet again . ”
“ you’ll always be my closest friend . ”
“ i hope you’ll always be happy . ”
“ some mistakes are hard to learn . ”
“ broken hearts are quick to burn and slow to heal easily . ”
“ i’ve been a mother to everyone else . ”
“ goodbye to the girl that i was . ”
“ goodbye to the girl that you lost . ”
“ nobody can take our love down . ”
“ it’s safe inside our memories . ”
“ i won’t forget how you healed me . ”
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Fifth Lord: Chapter 1
Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu and (Fem!Dragon)Reader [non-romantic], Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Dragon)Reader
Summary: Your name is Y/n Dracul; The only ‘mutant’ that doesn’t have the Cadou Parasite. You already have some sort of power that impressed Mother Miranda; you were the first known Human-Dragon Hybrid. Although you have your own house, “House Dracul”. Your ‘house’ itself is basically another unused wing of Castle Dimitrescu.
Warnings: None?
A/N: So like- Y/n’s dragon form is different from Alcina’s. Y/n Dracul is based on the Dragon Slayers from an anime titled: Fairy Tail. Y/n’s relationship with Alcina is that similar to like close work colleagues. Aside form Donna and Mother Miranda, Alcina respects Y/n a lot. Fun Fact: “Dracul” is Romanian for Dragon or Devil!
This is before Ethan Winters enters the Five Lords’ domains
---------------------------------------------------------------
You were unwanted as a very young child; Born with blooming dragon scales along your arms, sprouting dragon horns small fang-like canines, wings and a sprouting tail. You were nicknamed: The Devil’s Dragon.
Once your Dragon form finally took full form by your teenage years, you were ‘sacrificed’ to Mother Miranda however, seeing these Dragon-like features, believed you deserved a chance in her domain, so she raises you. She gives you the surname; Dracul. You always questioned how you got the dragon-like characteristics and power.
“You were always like that y/n,” Alcina seats herself next to you
“Yeah but- I came from the village right? So I must’ve been human at one point,” You sigh, leaning onto her arm
Even though no one else knew how either, you only leave it as; ‘I got lucky.’
“I hereby give you the Fifth House; House Dracul,” Mother Miranda ‘knights’ you, “Today, we mark history as Y/n Dracul, becomes the first Lord without the Cadou Parasite. She already holds a remarkable form of power.”
You’re kneeled down in front of her. Once you look up; your gold dragon eyes spark like fire.
“Dimitrescu,” Mother Miranda calls for her daughter
“Mother Miranda?” Dimitrescu answers
“You shall give Dracul and unused wing of your castle,” She says, “You are also responsible for Y/n Dracul.”
“Mother Miranda-” Alcina tries to object
“Is that a problem Dimitrescu?” She asks, beginning to unfold her wings
“No, Mother Miranda,” Alcina sighs
After the Lords’ meeting you follow Alcina to the castle and sure enough you would be able to make do with whichever wing she gives you.
“Y/n Dracul there are three girls I would like to introduce to you,” Alcina says
You follow her into the main hall. There; you meet eyes with three women. A Blonde, A Brunette and a Redhead.
“Daughters, I would like to introduce our newest addition to House Dimitrescu,” Alcina starts, “Your Fifth Lord, Y/n Dracul.”
You bow shallow and as soon as you look up, all three daughters were staring in awe at you.
“Is that a dragon?” The Redhead asks
“Partly Dragon,” You correct
“Daniela, where are your manners?” The blonde one asked, “We are in the prescence of a Lord! I’m Bela my lady.”
“Cassandra,” The Brunette introduces herself
“You know my name,” Daniela sighs, “Thank you Bela.”
“My Ladies, please,” You sigh, slightly overwhelmed, “No need for formalities.”
The ease themselves and you make eye contact with Bela. You didn’t know what happened but you felt something when she looked back at you.
“Y/n,” Alcina smacks the back of your head
You snap out of your gaze at Bela and turn to Alcina. You rub the back of your head to ease the slight pain from Alcina’s hand.
“Cassandra, show y/n her wing of the castle,” Alcina requests gently
“Which part mother?” She asks
“Whichever wing we barely use,” Alcina sighs, “The-The clocktower.”
You have a clocktower?...
Cassandra taps your shoulder as she motions for you to follow her up the staircase. You look down and make eye contact with Bela once more. She slightly smiles as you and gives you a small wave.
“Thank you, Lady Cassandra,” You say as you gaze up at the interior of the clock tower
“You’re very much welcome my lord,” She bows
“Lady Cassandra, you may call me Y/n,” You smile weakly, “I told you, no need for formalities.”
Cassandra nods as she makes her leave. As you gaze up once more at the clocktower, you squat down as your wings begin rising into the air. You make a powerful jump and begin flying up to the top of the clocktower.
I’m so happy I have wings for this one...
You fly around the castle, gazing happily at the exterior. You didn’t know how long you were flying for until you notice the sun beginning to set. You land on the ledge of the clocktower however when you look over you notice a figure setting up something across from you.
“Lady... Bela?” You call out
She turns her head over to you and smiles, ”Lord Dracul.”
She bows and hands you a blanket. You smile and take the blanket she had given you.
“You set all of this up? For me?” You ask, “Lady Bela you didn’t need to.”
“It was one way mother would allow me to see our Fifth Lord,” She slightly smiles, “Didn’t think she’d be part human and part Dragon. Kind of hot if you tell me.”
You awkwardly smile while feeling your cheeks heat up. Bela smiles as she pinches your cheeks.
“You’re a cute dragon,” She smiles
She turns her back to you. So you take the opportunity to strip off your shirt to change into a sleep shirt.
Bela’s POV
When Bela turns back towards you, your back was turned to her. However, She takes notice of the red dragon scales that are running along the sides of your body up to your neck.
Oh god she’s hot... And her scales glisten rainbow under the moonlight... God it’s so pretty...
Y/N’s POV
When you turn back around, flinging your wings out from the vertical cuts in your shirt, you notice Bela staring.
“Something caught your eye?” You ask, smiling slightly
“I like how your scales glisten rainbow,” She says
“Oh, it does that?” You ask, holding out your arm to the moonlight
Sure enough, it had.
“You’re pretty observant Lady Bela,” You smile
She’s cute... But... She’s Lady Dimitrescu’s daughter... And I’m a lord... The two titles aren’t mutually exclusive...
Somehow, the both of you made it work around living in Castle Dimitrescu and being in a secret relationship. Even Bela hadn’t told her sisters of her relationship with you yet because she didn’t want them judging the both of you and you didn’t want Alcina going at your throat for being with her daughter and being a lord.
“Y/n, may I have a word with you?” Alcina asks as she walks into the clocktower, finding you flying about
“Of course my lady,” You say, landing in front of her, “What is it?”
“I see ow my daughter Bela sneaks around the castle, do you have any idea why?” She asks you, taking a swig of her cigarette
You stand there, slightly frozen. Had Alcina began suspecting of your relationship with her? Had you somehow slipped up? Had Bela accidentally ran her mouth while she was in the castle?
“Y/n?” Alcina calls
“Sorry, um- no, I don’t know why My Lady,” You lie
“Don’t lie to me young one,” She says
“I’m not My Lady,” you try to hide
She leans over you, observing you closely. You were never great at hiding lies from Alcina. However, she stops looming over you and recomposes herself.
“Alright then, if you won’t tell me then I’m sure Bela will,” Alcina storms off
Once you see her disappear, you sigh in relief.
“You can come out now Bela,” You say
You turn to your sleeping quarters and notice Bela wrapped in a blanket. You walk over to her and give her a hug.
“We have to tell mother sooner better than later,” Bela says, worriedly, “Who knows what she might do to you....”
“I am a dragon love,” You smile, kissing her nose gently, “She will have a hard time killing me.”
When you and Bela broke the news to the entirety of House Dimitrescu, Alcina wasn’t surprised, nor were Daniela and Cassandra.
“You and Bela would always be in close proximity to each other, it was pretty obvious,” Cassandra says
“No matter,” Alcina sighs “Y/n Dracul, you are a lord and a lord dating my daughter-”
“I think it’s an interesting concept mother,” Daniela interrupts her
When Alcina shoots her head up to Daniela, Daniela drops her head down. Cassandra looks into another direction, hoping to not upset her mother any further.
“However, Bela and the girls do seem to love, having you around,” Alcina states, “You swear to me you ill be there by Bela’s side no matter what?”
“I promise my lady,” You say, holding onto Bela’s hand
“You may continue your relationship with my daughter y/n,” Alcina says. Before you and Bela could celebrate, Alcina stands over the both of you, “But don’t let being my daughters’ lover distract you from being a lord. I am responsible for you.”
You nod as she begins walking towards the staircase. As soon as Alcina disappears into the Castle, you look down at Bela. She grins from ear to ear and hugs you tightly.
“A lord dating a Dimitrescu?” Daniela teases, “It’s unheard of.”
“It’s heard of now,” You smile
“Will you have dragon babies?” Cassandra also teases
“Lady Cassandra, I am a female,” You sigh
“You never know what you can do to have some kiddos, even as a woman.” Cassandra explains
“You know the outside world has improved since ancient times...” You mumble to yourself
“See,” Cassandra says, “Have your dragon babies with our sister.”
“Cassandra!” Bela yells, standing up, “I’m going to bed... Y/n?”
You smile slight;y as you stand up and follow after her, holding onto her hand.
“Don’t do anything I would do now ladies,” Daniela teases
“Shut up already!” Bela yells
You follow Bela through the tunnels and up to the clocktower. As you begin stripping off your ‘Lord attire’ for bed, Bela turns to you while you are shirtless.
“My lord-” Bela gasps
“What?” You ask, putting on a baggy shirt, “You okay?”
“Yes My Lord,” She tries to cover her mouth
“My my, is Lady Bela blushing?” You ask, slightly smirking
“N-no,” She turns away from you
“You are,” You tease, moving her hand from her face, noticing a slight blush across her face
You let out a hearty but calm laugh. You weren’t sure what had gotten into Bela but she had shoved you back so that you’re now sitting at the edge of your bed. Bela wasn’t sure what was going on in her head but the next thing she knew she is in your lap.
“Lady Bela?” You ask, looking up at her, “You sure are feisty tonight.”
“You’re really trying to tempt me right now?” She asks, slightly letting out a growl
“Whatever are you trying to prove?” You ask, tracing Bela’s figure with the tips of your sharp fingernails
Bela lets out a strangled gasp as she puts her hands onto your shoulders. Your hand grips the back of her neck, but doing your best to not accidentally draw blood on her.
“My Lord?” She asks, looking down at you
“My Lady,” You reply, smiling
When you awake in the following morning, you were about to stretch your wings until you felt a slight weight hold down your right wing.
“Lady Bela?” You yawn, turning to face her
“Good morning my lord,” She smiles, supposedly awake with her eyes closed
“You sleep okay?” You ask, brushing hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear
She nods, “How about you? My blood runs cold...”
“You know, it was nice,” You state, “MY body temperature is always warm... So you cool me down when I slept.”
“Vice versa from me,” She smiles, snuggling into your body more
“Bela, are you in here?” Alcina asks, looking under the cloth ‘door’ you had made
You and Alcina look at each other awkwardly before Bela’s head popped up from behind your shoulder.
“Just- Bela be ready soon,” Alcina turns her heel and walks off
Once the clocktower door shuts, you and Bela look at each other before letting out a snicker to a laugh.
“I better get ready,” You say, “Being lord sure is tiring.”
“Me too,” Bela agrees, “My sisters will question us for sure.”
“I mean, they know already,” You state, slipping on some jeans and a hoodie
“I don’t want it to be the talk amongst the Lords and this castle,” Bela growls slightly
“You’re cute when you’re a little angry,” You smile, kissing her nose
You slip on a leather jacket as Bela pulls on the belt. Pulling you towards her.
“You’re the one who’s cute,” Bela giggles, kissing you
You return the kiss. The kiss was beginning to become heated when you snaked your arms around Bela before Bela pulls away.
“If I see the both of you fucking I’m going to puke,” Daniela giggles
“Morning Lady Daniela, Lady Cassandra,” You greet them
“Mother is asking for the both of you now,” Cassandra says
Daniela and Cassandra materialize into their fly swarm and begin going into the tunnel system, back into the castle. You look down and notice Bela hadn’t followed close behind her sisters.
“Hey, go on ahead,” You say, looking at her, “Go catch up to your sisters. I’ll catch up.”
Bela gives you one last kiss on the cheek before materializing into her swarm of flies and disappearing into the tunnel system. Before you began to fly through the tunnel as well you felt something move in the pocket of your hoodie. You look down and open the pocket: revealing a single fly.
“Awwww Bela,” You coo at the fly, ever-so gently petting the fly
Chapter 2
#daniela dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#house dimitrescu#house beneviento#house moreau#house heisenberg#resident evil village#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu x reader#bela is my wife
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sex God - Hyunjin pt. 2
Pairing: God! Hyunjin x Sub!Female Reader
Genre: Smut with some fluff and angst.
Summary: You made Hyunjin jealous and now you’d have to face the repercussions. Something you may have thought about a little more ahead of time, considering he had a few tricks up is sleeves. - Part 1 Here
Warnings: Jealous sex, unprotected sex, punishment, dom/sub themes, some bdsm themes, bondage, claiming, marking, biting, dirty talk, degradation, power play, corruption kink (hinted at), sensory play (kind of), oral ( m receiving), exhibition (slight), brat taming, spanking, orgasm control/denial, master kink, sex toys, vibrators, paddles, hair pulling, spit, cumshot, cum eating, squirting, praise, mirror sex.
Word Count: 4,070
“I would have thought that by now you’d know better than to test me, little girl. After all, it’d be a shame for you not to cum tonight, especially when that’s what I do so well.” Hyunjin’s threat is something you know he’d follow through with based on your experience, but that doesn’t mean you’re through with testing him just yet. No, if he was going to give you attention now, then you were going to make sure and get as much of it as you possibly could.
“Well, maybe I’ll go back to Felix then. I’m sure he would make it happen if you don’t want to.” You quip with a smirk that Hyunjin instantly wiped away with a smack to your inner thigh. Your clothes were off in a flash.
“Oh, little girl, when I’m through with you, you won’t be going anywhere.”
Hyunjin’s gaze was sharp, holding you captive as you tried to decipher all the meanings behind it. Giving any clue as to what punishments you might have earned yourself with your behavior, yet he gave nothing away. You know that even if he’s already decided on what to do with you that he’ll still stay silent for a few moments, letting your anticipation build. It gives him an edge and he knows it from the occasions when the silence has been enough alone to make you crack.
He takes a few steps before stopping right in front of you and pulling his sleeves up, before twirling his fingers, twirling silky ribbons of gold into existence. His eyes rake over your form possessively before licking his lips in a dark hunger, practically able to taste you on his tongue from the sheer memory of it. He won’t be getting to that quite yet though, not until he’s already chipped away at your inner brat a bit.
“Strip.” You blink at his sudden demand, making no move to do as he says quite yet, too stunned at the suddenness of it. His free hand grips your jaw, making you look him in the eyes as he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “You had your fun little brat, but now I’m in charge and unless you’d like to ask for worse I suggest you do as I tell you when I tell you. Now strip.”
“Y-Yes master.” You’re quick to correct, hands shaking as you bring them to the hem of your shirt. You make no sign of disobeying, however, knowing you’ve already infuriated Hyunjin enough to give you more than sufficient punishment for one evening. Perhaps, even to go farther than he was with you before.
Hyunjin hums in approval, twirling his finger to motion for you to spin for him, wanting to see all of your form, “Good girl, finally listening to me. On the bed now. I want you on your knees, arms behind your back.”
You know Hyunjin will be watching you intently ready to pick up on any little slip up that you might make, so you’re careful to do exactly as he’s told. Keeping your eyes down until he permits you to look at him. Hyunjin sets down the glittering ropes on the edge of the bed, barely in your line of sight, wanting to know if they’d catch your attention enough to make you break your suddenly compliant nature. When you continue to display submission he finally moves forwards, fingertips dancing along your thighs as he leans down to look up at your face. He minds himself smirking when you divert your gaze again.
“It seems like you can remember my rules...well when you want to.” Hyunjin chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he leans back to grasp the silky ropes again, “You can look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what you did to earn everything I’m going to do to ruin your body tonight little girl.”
You slowly meet his gaze, gulping as you find the storm brewing in them, “I-I broke some of master’s rules. I was with another man a-and when master came to get me I back talked him. I-I was a brat and deliberately disobeyed him.”
“So you understand what I have to do to you then, don’t you little brat?” Hyunjin started to lay out the rope, preparing for what he was going to do next, licking his lips as your eyes twitched. Your sight was almost drawn to the motion of his actions but instead keeping on his eyes like he’d expected.
“I-I do. Master has to punish me, r-remind me of his rules. I promise I’ll take it, master, s-show you that I can be good for you.” Your voice wavers for a moment and Hyunjin picks up on it, pausing his actions. He leans forward, brushing your hair back behind your ear and kissing your temple in a gentle act.
“I know you will little girl, you always do. You remember our safe word?” Hyunjin’s tone has lightened up, showing you that while he’s worked up he cares so deeply for you. Your well-being is always his foremost concern and you know that nodding and quietly voicing the word. Hyunjin hums, placing one last kiss before leaning back and returning to his previous actions, “Face the other way.”
When you listen, keeping your hands behind your back Hyunjin gets exactly what he wants. You are in a perfect position for him to box tie your hands, something you’re familiar with in the bedroom with him. Hyunjin liked the way it allowed him to move you as he pleased, and the way it kept your hands out of his way, so he wouldn’t have to worry as much about accidents. He checks around his ties after he finishes to ensure that they aren’t too tight to bring you harm, before turning you around again. He then sets to work frog tying your legs, something much less common as he liked to watch the way they would shake as he made you feel good. Tonight though, he wanted to remind you who was in charge, who had the control here, so he decided to limit you more than usual in what you could do. Once finished he checked those ties as well, before stepping back to appreciate how good you looked with the delicate gold color shimmering against your skin.
After appreciating his handiwork for a moment, Hyunjin starts to back away leaving you there with widening eyes. He stops by the door, but never leaves, instead hitting the light switch and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light being the ropes Hyunjin had created and tied you up with, giving a faint golden glow around them, but not enough to allow you to really see anything. It gives Hyunjin another advantage, the element of surprise. Something you know he would use to put you on edge, not knowing what punishments you’ll be given before they’re delivered.
You feel the bed dip with Hyunjin’s weight before the glow illuminates his face just slightly, it makes him appear even more ethereal than usual. It’s not a sight you get to enjoy long, however, before he grips your hips and flips you over onto your knees. He pushes your shoulder until you fall forward, cheek pressed against the mattress, while your ass is up and exposed. Your legs spread and unable to squirm even a little, leaving you positioned entirely at Hyunjin’s mercy.
His hand cracks down on the swell of your ass without warning drawing a whimper out of you before you feel his weight leave again. The only thing you have to go by is the occasional shuffling sounds as he moves to get what he wanted. You nearly jump when he tosses a few things onto the bed behind you, making him chuckle again as he notices you shift slightly before his stern side is showing through again.
“Careful little brat, you have nowhere to run now. Not that you’d want to anyway considering no one could treat you as good as I do anyway, hm?” Hyunjin questions you, his voice slowly drawing closer before his hand comes down on your ass again.
“N-No master, only you can treat me this good. O-Only you can teach me how to be a good little whore.” You whine, doing your best to stay still, but every little action that set your senses on fire was only increased by your lack of sight.
“I want you to count them out for me, tell me just what your slutty behavior earlier earned you. If you mess up we won’t start over, I’ll just add five more for any mistakes you make from this point forward. Do you understand?” The second between his words and your breath to speak, you feel the leather from one of Hyunjin’s favorite paddles brushing over your ass. Giving you a hint of what you were in for, even if you still weren’t sure when you’ll be earning his mercy.
“Yes master, I understand.” You whimper out so softly, you’re not sure Hyunjin hears you, but lucky for you he does.
He gives you a moment to prepare yourself, knowing he was going to put you through a lot, before delivering the first series of swift blows. Only five in and your voice starts to tremble, letting him know your body was on edge. By ten hits your slick is dripping down your plush thighs, core throbbing as it begs for attention that it won’t receive for some time still. After fifteen hits he gives you a moment to recover, knowing you had your voice was starting to be strained from crying out to him already. When he reaches twenty hits you’re starting to cry, tears painting your face and dazzling like little gems as the golden glow from the ropes hits them. Twenty-five hits and you’re getting a few soft whispered assurances from Hyunjin, him knowing you’re close to your limit. He gives you only five more, ignoring the wavering in your tone as you almost can’t call out the number, but trying so hard to behave for him, and right now that notion is enough. The last blow from the paddle is the hardest, but it lets you know he’s done.
Hyunjin’s hands rub over your ass, stinging slightly before helping soothe the burn left behind on your bruised flesh. He leans down to leave a few kisses, the action making you mewl and he chuckles before biting down on the tender skin.
“Such a good little girl taking that. I don’t think you’ll forget who you belong to anytime soon with how sore your ass is going to be.” Hyunjin laughs under his breath before his touch leaves your skin. Leaving you in the dark again as to what he would do to you next, only hearing some shuffling again.
Hyunjin’s hand strokes over your hair, caressing softly, before suddenly gripping it, sending pin pricks over your scalp in burning waves. He looks down at you smirking softly as his cock sits right out of reach of your mouth. The light from the ropes barely illuminates Hyunjin, but doing enough to let you make out the way his muscles tense while he grips your hair and holds himself back. Or the way his dark eyes bore into you, gold flickering through in beautiful sparkles from the glow, while his golden hair falls in front of his face, threatening to ruin your view.
“Look at how desperate you are, after acting like it was the last thing you wanted earlier. Trying to act all innocent like you weren’t trying to make all jealous. Like you aren’t just a little whore for me. What have I actually done to you, hm? You used to be a sweet little angel, now you’re a slut drooling from both ends for my cock.” Hyunjin taunts free hand gripping your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your lip, spreading the drool that had been threatening to spill out, “If you want it that bad, then I guess you can have it. You better make it good though, I still don’t think you’ve earned the chance to cum tonight, yet.”
Just because you were going to get a taste of him though, did not mean you had any control in the slightest. Hyunjin’s grip on your hair is still firm as he guides you close enough, letting you take your time as you take his length into your mouth, allowing you some time to appreciate it before he took over again. His eyes meet yours as they remain on him, unwavering and eager to please as you slowly take his length down your throat, trying to get used to the feeling again. Only getting a moment, before Hyunjin’s grip solidifies again, locking you in place as his hips start rutting into your mouth.
“L-Look at you sucking dick so skillfully, j-just like how I taught you. S-Such a filthy fucking slut for me.” Hyunjin groans, eyes scrunching closed for a moment when you earnestly swallow around him, hollowing your cheeks to only further add to his pleasure. You can still watch every facial expression he makes with his head hanging in soft moans, his pace picking up and making you gag around him the sounds only adding to the lewd scene as he forces his eyes open to enjoy every aspect of what is happening at this moment.
You take pride in knowing Hyunjin almost as well as he knows you, the triggers it takes for him to fall apart too. Which is how you know he’s right on the edge, something you’re hoping to throw him over before he denies you the satisfaction of his taste. Something else he often does whenever you’re being punished, though it wouldn’t be the first time you’d convinced him wordlessly to cum down your throat. Today, however, his resolve is firm, determined not to give into you until he’s satisfied you’ve learned that Felix is not the one who can do this to you.
Hyunjin revels in the way that your whine, lips still parted as you try to resist his grip on your hair to wrap your mouth around his cock again. He’s having none of it though as he strokes himself to completion. Letting his cum paint your face and neck in the prettiest patterns. You wear him like a badge of honor, like a collar of the most beautiful sparkling gems and he thinks he might just have to gift you something of the sort as a reminder.
“I won’t give it to you that easy...not today.” Hyunjin chuckles, situating you to sit up on your knees once again. Him tapping your inner knee until you get the hint and spread your legs, humming in approval at the slick smeared along your inner thighs and what was on display between them. The color of the golden glow hitting your skin and dancing off your slick only makes you more appealing, “This color looks good on you little girl.”
His slight praise has you keening begging for his touch once more without even using words, only inflating his ego more. He knew exactly what he did to you and thrived off that power. When he leans in you think he’s going to kiss you, but he doesn’t, instead, his tongue laves over your cheek, collecting up some of his cum.
He hums as he pulls back to look into your eyes, his hand reaching back to grab something, “I love when you taste like me little one, just another reminder that you’re all mine.”
Hyunjin gives you no clue as to what was in his hand as he kisses and nips harshly over your neck until he finds the spot he wants, biting down harder before licking to soothe the pain. Leaving kisses and soft sucks to the tender flesh to make up for it, but not letting up until he’s satisfied with the blossoming mark that’s left behind. Something he never mentions, however, knowing what he had in mind for later.
His surprise finally revealed when a soft buzz filled the air, Hyunjin bringing the wand to your thighs and teasing the vibrator over that, “We’re going to test you out little brat, see if you’ve actually learned to listen or not. You don’t get to cum until I say you do.”
He doesn’t word it as a question he expects an answer to, or give you time to retort before the vibrator is turned all the way up and pressed against your clit. Instead, it’s a firm demand, an order that you know there will be dire consequences for if you can not listen to him. Yet, you also know Hyunjin is aware of how easily the wand in his hand makes you fall apart, especially when you’re this desperate. Your determination building at this point, determination to please him, and not earn yourself another punishment.
Hyunjin grips your jaw, making you look at him as you moan, wanting to soak in even the tiniest flickers of reaction on your face. You’d learned early on that there was no way to hide from him when you were about to cum, so there was no use in trying. There was always a use for begging Hyunjin though, it was just a matter of how much begging it would take...and you had a feeling tonight it would take a lot. You weren’t aware of just how much begging though, until after four ruined orgasms, Hyunjin still pressed the vibrator against your clit without let up. Tears glistening as they streamed down your face.
“M-Master, please! I-I need to cum for you. I need it so badly, p-please let me. I-I’ve done my best to be good for you and show that I can listen and do whatever you ask, j-just please.” Your words come out in near sobs, as you gasp for breath feeling right on the edge once again.
“You can cum little girl when I tell you that you can. You better hold it.” Hyunjin growls nipping at your throat as he watches you closely, waiting until he knows you really can’t hold your orgasm back any longer before finally giving you some relief, “Cum. Now.”
You scream out as you cum, the sound a mix of relief and overwhelming amounts of pleasure. Your orgasm overpowering after the build-up since you both entered this room, it enough to make you squirt, something only Hyunjin was capable of making you do. Hyunjin slowly turned down the vibrator as you rode out your high, before taking it away when it started to change to painful overstimulation, feeling as if he’d tormented you enough at this point.
“Shh, just breath little one.” Hyunjin coos, gently brushing your tears away and helping guide your breaths to get you to calm down a little bit, “There’s my good girl. You did so good taking everything I gave to you little girl, but I’m not quite done with you yet.”
Hyunjin moves you as he pleases, bending you over again only making sure you keep your head up and facing a mirror across the room. The item not even having crossed your mind, but looking into it now with the only thing illuminated in the pitch-black room the two of you that was all you could pay attention to. It only adds to the feeling as Hyunjin slowly presses his length into you, moaning quietly at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. His sounds, however quiet, are not something that you let just slip past you, especially not when they sounded like the most beautiful melodies mixed with your sounds.
If you had asked Hyunjin why he was going so slowly, you’re sure he’d make up some excuse about finally showing you mercy or letting you have a moment to adjust. You knew the reality though, he needed the moment to collect himself...he always did, you were just too perfect to him. The way your warm, wet walls pulsed around him making him weak to his knees, even if he didn’t admit that to you.
As soon as he regained his composure, however, it was like a switch flipped. Hyunjin wastes no time in picking a fast, rough pace to thrust into you, reminding you once again how sore your ass was after his earlier actions. Hyunjin’s movements do not stutter for a second once he sets his pace, a hand immediately slipping between your legs to rub at your clit, determined to get as many orgasms out of you as he could before his own.
“Who do you moan like this for? Tell me, little girl, is it Felix?” Hyunjin growls, hand gripping your bound arms to pull you back against his chest so you could see in more detail exactly how he fucked you. The way his cock slipped in and out of you, coated in your slick, and the way his skilled fingers rubbed and pinched at your clit so perfectly.
“N-No master. I-I may be a slut, but it’s only for you. I-I will only ever moan like this for you.” You immediately answer him how you know he wants you to, feeling yourself drawing close to the edge again and not wanting to risk it being denied. Hyunjin notices with a hum and pinches your clit just right to throw you over the blissful edge, keeping you upright as your thighs tremble, before gently letting you lay your chest down onto the bed again.
“T-That’s right little girl, you’re my filthy fucking slut. Y-You’ll be good and give me one more won’t you?” Hyunjin words it as a question, but you know that he’s not really asking. His own end is drawing closer, yet he won’t let himself give in to the feeling until he’s rewarded you for taking all that you did earlier. When you nod softly, your head is still foggy from your last high, trying to come down from it. Hyunjin gives a sound of approval in his throat as he leans down to kiss your temple.
When he feels your pussy clenching around him again, nearing your last orgasm...for now...he almost loses it. Only barely holding himself back his fingers speed up on your clit until you snap again, withering beneath him. Hyunjin finally doesn’t hold back his sounds as he cums deep inside of you, painting you white until it starts to leak out of your spent core.
Hyunjin gently with you as he undoes the ties on you. He could make them disappear just as fast as he made them appear, but they looked so beautiful on your skin that he can’t find it in himself to do that... not for a long time at least. His hands massaged your sore muscles for a few moments before helping you up and to the shower, to let the heat help them further. Willing to let you clean up knowing he left more than a few reminders that wouldn’t simply rinse away in the shower. He treats you delicately as always with aftercare.
A lightbulb seems to go off over his head as he dries you though, making you furrow your brows, “What is it?”
“Ah, I just forgot something when we rushed back, come on let's go get it. It’ll just take a moment.” Hyunjin takes your hand in his and in the blink of an eye, you’re both back where he’d found you with Felix, not giving you any chance to argue.
Hyunjin intentionally leads you past where he knows Felix will be, making you walk without any help from him knowing that if the obvious marks his mouth left on your neck didn’t give away what had happened between you two, then your walk would. Something that always made him proud after he fucked you. Hyunjin smirks at Felix while they pass before smiling sweetly at you and saying he’ll be a second, leaving you standing there. He’s barely longer than that before he’s back having made up what he needed anyways just to show off to Felix who you belonged to. He comes back and soon takes you home, looking at you innocently while you raise a brow and cross your arms at him.
“So?.... You forgot a spoon?”
#stray kids smut#stray kids#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids imagines#hyunjin#hyunjin smut#hyunjin imagine
279 notes
·
View notes
Photo
do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!
the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)
When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help.
a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)
Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.
to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.
a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.
forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)
The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.
When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!"
When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.
When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.
Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.
five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)
(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)
or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.
inquiry by incendir (10k+)
Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.
storge by respira (9k+)
Lan Sizhui is a lake.
as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)
Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.
Lan Sizhui was home.
tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.
"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."
In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.
Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.
After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.
guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)
Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!
Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.
response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)
What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?
love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)
Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.
Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.
child surprise by ariaste (4k+)
He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”
Three debts, three repayments.
there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)
There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!
A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.
on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)
“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”
“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”
in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)
5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.
(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)
this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)
Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?
Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.
Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.
or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.
yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)
When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.
“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”
A series of wangxian family moments.
innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)
In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.
Canon divergence from episode 31.
to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)
Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.
Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.
our little one by writedeku (6k+)
A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”
(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)
gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)
Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.
the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)
He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.
[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]
to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)
His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.
Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.
when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)
Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.
Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.
The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.
five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)
“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”
Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.
Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.
“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”
“He’s my son.”
5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)
“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.
“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.
(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)
the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)
"Hanguang-jun!"
When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?
Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.
Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.
✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui
tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)
A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.
#the untamed#wangxian#lan wangji#wei wuxian#lan sizhui#lan yuan#wen yuan#wangxian family#wangxian fic rec#myficrecs#creations#listen i just really love this family#1k
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dalentan
Untitled
queer-alignment-charts
Alignment Charts
astropartigirl
An Astroparticle Physicist's Hideout
cristiangrams
★ CHILDSTAR ★
wormsin
satan apologist