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saltycharacters · 9 months

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Watched Nimona recently and although it was a fairly enjoyable film and I would still recommend a watch. I got a bunch of thoughts about its ending and themes and how despite it trying to build itself up as this cool queer anticop story it fails to stick the landing and instead suffers from Treasure Planet syndrome. I've decided to ramble it out under the keep reading link so spoilers for Nimona starts there

So this movie is built upon a "knight system" which is established to be an obvious cop parallel, where the knights are essentially the police of this world. The allegory doesn't stop at the job description however, as the movie takes a bold move and introduces this system as very corrupt early on; from the main character being framed by a high-ranking, police-adjacent authority, to revealing that the entire system was built on false hatred and intolerance, to Nimona outright stating that it doesn't end at the true perpetrator, but that "the WHOLE system is corrupt". Time and time again we are given proof of how the knights, whether purposefully or not, hurt, indoctrinate, and brainwash the innocent. This is a great message, and they did an excellent job of carrying it throughout the runtime until doing a sudden 180 at the end. Not only do we see the cop system still in place, with knights in universe portrayed clearly on screen, but they're painted as good with a member playing soccer with a child. They tried to reject corruption by denouncing their founder, yet they still intend to perpetuate the job built to maintain her ideals from the ground up.

Despite attempting to dive into more meaningful territory with a daring dive into a serious modern problem, the ending they gave us was palatable and conveniently perfect in a way that satisfies everyone on a shallow level, which only works with a message that's equally shallow and inoffensive. This sort of trying to have cake and eat it too conclusion is what I refer to when saying Treasure Planet syndrome, as watching the movie gave me deja vu for the same faults- because, while Treasure Planet attempts to weave a unique and subversive narrative that touches upon deeper subjects which would lead up to an unconventional yet impactful end, what they finished with was jarringly standard hogwash where they attempted to tie lose ends in a conventionally pretty, corporate-ceo approved bow. For example, one of if not the main plot of the movie was Jim Hawkins addressing his trauma regarding an absent father that abandoned him and his mom at an early age, finding a better father figure in John Silver and gradually healing from his past with a better role model. Yet at the end, the cycle repeats itself as John ends up leaving (just like Jim's father) with narry a negative emotion from Jim. Jim then goes to cop academy where, despite his journey being about rejecting societal expectations and gaining self-improvement and growth through his own means, he becomes an A-Plus goody-two shoes cop loving poster boy in no time. The syndrome also hits particularly hard with Captain Amelia and Doctor Doppler, where despite their relationship being a man and woman, it still openly rejects heteronormativity with natural romantic progression (no love at first site bullshit) that involves Amelia being way more masculine and competent than Doppler and him being the well meaning yet gullible scientist. Even the way they flirt is subversive, with Amelia calling Doppler's eyes beautiful (a traditionally feminine descriptor) rather than the instigation being made by the man. Yet at the end, heteronormativity hits as Doppler is shown suddenly more assertive and masculine as he dips Amelia in a dance, not to mention their children fall into the trop of the girls looking exactly like the mother and the boy looking exactly like the father (Also. they put a bunch of makeup on the baby girls????). In short, Treasure Planet Syndrome is writing a subversive plot/story that ends abruptly in a palatable perfect way that sacrifices both natural progression and its messages in an effort to create a more appealing happy end. A movie that I think actually LANDED its subversive storyline was Strange World, where it successfully carried through with it's deeper narrative and provided a slightly uncomfortable yet incredibly understandable and meaningful ending.

One last thing before I stop my ramble- the queer rep in Nimona is pretty bad. I mean don't get me wrong, the main character (who is canonically mlm) is fine and I'm always happy to see upfront representation in my media, but the man he was saddle with as his boyfriend treats him terribly throughout most of the movie, to the point where I was genuinely shocked seeing them together at the end. His boyfriend is this nepotism golden child who's beloved by everyone and so neck deep in the corrupt system that he: slices off the mc's arm (just says a vague sorry later), spends most of the movie refusing to trust or believe him, spends most of the movie trying to hunt him down and arrest him, easily succumbs to peer pressure when it comes down to hurting him, prefers to stay loyal to the system rather than his bf, barely questions the situation, and refuses to listen to his bf provide him with explanations or answers. Even the MC recognizes how much he hurt him, because he ends up outright BREAKING UP WITH HIM and begging him to leave him alone, only to get back with him at the end like nothing ever happened. I want a happy ending for canon queer couples as much as the next guy, but if they wanted a happy end, why did the write the love interest to be so awful? They could've made him question the motives of his superiors and the entire situation more, he could've gone out of his way to seek out an explanation before forming his own conclusion, he could've made more attempts to break the rules for harm reduction, to try and understand what happened, hell to try and TALK to the MC- it's really baffling how they tried to paint this as true love when what should've happened is the MC getting a better spouse. I see this as an extension of Treasure Planet syndrome and trying to have and eat cake at the same time mentality, to say I wasn't surprised when I discovered this movie was written by the people behind modern She-Ra would be an understatement.

#I think I rambled out everything i wanted to say but. man #and i know im gonna get some smartass trying to argue that queer relationships dont have to be pure and perfect but like #dont we deserve better than to have a majority of our portrayals be toxic and shitty #in terms of treasure planet syndrome too. I would describe it as like #going down a fast and fun waterslide that you know will end in cold water up your nose but youre still looking forward to it #when suddenly a giant pillow is placed in your way to stop you abruptly #and then youre gently pushed down a branching slide that plops you into the kiddy pool #idk. does any of this make sense #nimona #nimona spoilers #they wanted to make something deep yet last minute decided they wanted to make the ending shallow yknow #also there was someone who argued no one knew the knight system was corrupt. ignorance does not absolve the harm they did

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some-dr-writings · 3 years

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Shuichi, Kokichi and Nagito’s crush likes napping on his lap during breaks

Shuichi Saihara:

· Ah yes, the Super High School Level Astronomer, it was no wonder Kaito would be friends with such a person, and whoever Kaito was friends with, all his other friends would be friends with them as well, that was how Shuichi had met you. Often in those nightly training sessions, for a break Kaito, Shuichi, Maki and whoever else felt like joining them that evening would jog around till finding you, telescope by your side. You’d speak of the stars, of legends that surrounded them, of how travelers of old navigated the world through them, how stars were born, what there different colors meant, and so much more. Folklore, history, science, didn’t matter, you knew and continued to learn about each and any possible aspect you could about those specks of light. However, you were rather quiet outside of those moments, though you weren’t closed off. It was more so, if you weren’t speaking of stars you’d just so intently listen to others.

· … Maybe that’s how or why it happened? More often than not, when at school you were rather drowsy. You were often out, camping in the mountains away from the harsh city lights so when you were at school it was nice. When you were around, Shuichi made sure to spend time with you. You were able to speak so much without words, it was fun trying to interpret your expressions. Truthfully Shuichi didn’t think much of it at first, it was just how you were, quiet, yet outgoing, bubbly even. Others however had a more difficult time understanding you, somehow they didn’t notice the many little nuances that made up you, your slightest shift of expression or tilt of the head, your body language, how you spoke more so with your eyes, engaging in the conversations in your own way. How others couldn’t Shuichi had no idea at first, you were captivating, how could they NOT notice!?

· At first he had thought it was simply him being a detective, often having to interpret and read people through his work with his Uncle, but… that was not quite it, there was more to this. I didn’t come naturally, he WANTED to understand you. He found himself drawn to you, your gravity too powerful for him to even consider resisting. And it seemed the same could be said for you too. Whenever break rolled around, no matter how short it may be, you’d always seek him out. Due to more often than not being awake through the night you’d nap, but Shuichi didn’t mind, not even when you used his shoulder or lap as a pillow. He’d read his novels aloud to you, or if he was working through a case, walk through his logic aloud, he’d just speak even if you were asleep, something in him just knew you were still taking this all in.

· Even if he was somehow one of the few people who understood you, he wondered how you had even seen him yet. You were like a supernova in his eyes, so bright, so stunning, so colorful, leaving only beauty and wonder in your wake, how did you notice him? By chance did your heart race too at the thought of spending more time together? Did you also find a soft, comforting, warmth in his presence as he did you? Did you adore hearing him speak just as he did you? Whatever the case may be for you, he sure hopped it was something similar because he simply wished to your beloved stars above that you felt even half as amazing as he did with you, he just wanted you to know of such a fantastic emotion, it, no… you were astonishing and he simply wished to share and indulge in it with you.

Kokichi Oma:

· “Y/N!” “Hu-AH” You groaned, shakily pushing yourself off the ground. Then you noticed all your items had slipped out of your bookbag. You sighed, seeing all your papers had fallen out of your folders as well. “Geez, Y/N, I didn’t know you were so clumsy!” “Ah, just tired today I guess.” You noticed how Kokichi kept taking glances to you as he helped gather your items. Not surprising considering you literally just tumbled down a flight of stairs. Before you knew it all your supplied had already been collected and placed back in your bag. That was really quick. You winced as you stood up. Your knees almost collapsed under you and Kokichi was in the position to catch you should you have fallen but thankfully you were able to do so yourself. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” “Oh, uh… umm.” You thought and thought but couldn’t remember. It was so hard, you felt like your mind was swimming and swirling, all thoughts fuzzy and difficult to reach.

· Then suddenly you were being dragged along by the hand. “What the-” “You are coming with me! This’ll be fun! Especially if you have nothing better to do!” You were completely confused but more so shocked from the whole situation so you couldn’t really bring yourself to try to stop or ask where you were even going.

· Koichi just kept running around, getting you completely lost. Eventually though he let go, dashing a few paces forward before tumbling and falling. “O-Oma!?” He simply laughed, sitting up. He hummed as the wind rolled past swaying his hair as he looked up to the sky. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Look at that!” You were confused looking up to the sky where he was pointing. “Ugh, you can’t see it from there, sit down already!” Taking your arm, he playfully tugged on it, but even that was enough to send you falling. Even with you sprawled across his lap, he managed to scooch over enough so just your head was there. “Perfect! Now, that cloud looks like Gonta; giant, kinda dumb, soft. And that one-” You were… quite puzzled. Clouds? Of all things? That was what he wanted to show you? You heard Kokichi speaking, but it was all noise to you, it held no meaning. You just listened as he droned on and pointed, the shadow of his outstretched arm conveniently covering your eyes.

· You never really noticed how nice and soft Kokichi’s voice could be. Then again, he was always so loud or quiet, constantly shifting tone you never got the chance to just hear it… It was… rather pleasant. You wanted to hear him longer, engage in whatever game he was playing but so quickly your eyes drooped and all our senses simply lulled to nothing.

· Then it was evening. At first the sight of those orange and purple hues confused you, but then- “Y/N, you’re alive! It’s been twenty years and Miu’s army of robots have taken over! We need you to join the resistance!” He couldn’t help but laugh at your absolutely baffled expression. “But that’s a lie.” “… oh yeah… Wait…” You suddenly completely awakened, abruptly sitting up. “It’s evening already!? Did we skip class!?” “It’s whateves, Y/N. Hope’s Peak doesn’t care if we skip class.” “No, not that!” You sighed, burrowing your face into your hands and mumbled to yourself. “I didn’t take the new meds again. Of course, I didn’t.” Huh, new medicine was it. Kokichi smirked, dragging you up onto your feet. “C’mon! You’ll make us late for dinner!”

· The next several weeks were like that. No matter what you did you’d always end up napping on Kokichi’s lap at some point. This was much needed. Your therapist had been fired so you had to start all over with someone new, who wanted to give you new medicine meaning new side affects that could only be worked around via time management. It was a process trying to work out what amount you needed and what not. Napping with Kokichi was just about the only solace you had gotten in the chaos. When you had found a good balance of medication no longer were you exhausted in the day or losing sleep at night. It was great though, admittedly you missed it.

· It had been about a week or so since your medication seemed to stable out and all was well with you once more. The bells for break had tolled and you left class. Break wasn’t long, but you didn’t care. Hearing shrieks and screams of terror and that ‘Nishishi” you knew you were close. Seeing Kokichi make his escape you simply went to one of the benches outside. And there you waited.

· You still waited even after the bells signaling the end of break had tolled. “Oh? Y/N actually skipping class!? What has this world come too!? Soon the sky will be falling!” Seeing he wasn’t lying per say and just exaggerating you decided to answer. “I haven’t taken my nap yet.” You took his hand, pulling him onto the bench and you placed your head atop his lap. Though you weren’t not tired, a mid-day nap in the sun just felt so nice.

· Thankfully for Kokichi, you were asleep so you couldn’t see his giddy smile. Though with this seemingly becoming the new norm you’d likely catch him one of these days. For now he’d just indulge in this moment with you, his crush and worry about that when it happens.

Nagito Komaeda:

· Though you were an Ultimate, an amazing person who could take care of themself just fine, Nagito worried about you. You slept, a lot. No matter when or where you could find a place to nap should you want too. It wasn’t all the time though, Nagito still had many conversations with you and had gotten to see your talent firsthand, an extraordinary sight! When you were awake, you’d spend much of your time with him, often over analyzing him trying to see if there was a scientific cause for the outlandish phenomena that was his luck. Not surprising since you were a scientist. At times Nagito wondered if your mind worked so hard when you were awake, trying to solve every last mystery the world had to offer, that drove you to exhaustion so quickly. That would explain how you could be so excitedly chatting away about one theory of yours or another only for you to suddenly fall over, knocked out. Thankfully it seemed Nagito’s luck would kick in moments like that so he could catch you before your face smashed into the ground.

· Always following you around, trying to keep your drowsy tendency from getting you into danger, from just always being beside he had become your assistant of sorts. Though he would never dare to insist on it, he always sneakily became the one to carry your stuff around in the end, even if you had started your journey with them. Taking you by your shoulders he’d steer you away from bumping into other people or objects. He would take your hand, but he felt unworthy of such an honor unless you decided he could and he knew if he did a bright scarlet would erupt on his cheeks and his heart would pick up in pace, things you surely would notice with your keen eye. When you were awake, nothing could get past you, so Nagito would have to be extra careful. He couldn’t let you figure out his feelings. He simply didn’t have it in him to confess and he was garbage, surely you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but if you did somehow, it’s not like he would deny you, someone like him had no right to deny an Ultimate, or so he thought at least.

· Although… Nagito couldn’t help his feelings seeping out, no matter how much he had tried to keep them inside. Often, he was just talking and suddenly he’d be complimenting you and about to say he loved you and he’d have to cut himself off by causing an ‘accident’ like tripping over chairs or abruptly changing his words to say something else. He was always left a flustered mess.

· It was just another day when Nagito strolled into your lab, finding your workspace was filled with many documents, many taped to white boards with string attacked to each and every last one, some string simply linking two pages on the same board, others stretching across the room, forcing one to duck, and twist to avoid them all, one could compare it to avoiding the lights in the laser filled room in some generic spy flic. “Hmm, but how to go about testing this?” “Testing what?” “Oh, Komaeda! Perfect timing!” You strolled over to him, looking through some file, seemingly not paying attention to your surroundings yet still avoiding all that strings. “Today I’m studying human communication!” “Uh huh.” “And I wish to test something!” You looked to him with those stunningly bright eyes as you explained, completely captivating him. “The power of words. I wish to see if they are like water in a pipe. For comparison, imagine a person as the pipe and the words water. I wonder if say a person is upset, if speaking to another person was the only way to alleviate the pressure of those emotions, or if just speaking aloud, even to no one, if that’d alleviate the pressure as well, OR if something else would happen. Yes, each individual is different, but there could still be a majority! I’m thinking we’ll go about-” a yawn escaped you before you continued. “about this… by…” You took a small notebook from your pocket, quickly scribbling down notes as Nagito lead you to a couch in the corner of the room. Nagito already knew this was coming considering that ‘pipe’ comparison didn’t make much sense since pipes would still leak, even if with another pipe around.

· He sat beside you on the couch and moments later you rested your head on his lap. You tried holding up the little book to him and when he took it your hand and arm went limp, you already fast asleep. Nagito couldn’t help but smile, seeing you already so restful. As usually he looked through your notebook, seeing what he needed to prepare in order to set up your tests. Curiously he also looked over your notes, wondering how your interest in astrology the day prior lead to this through your connective thinking. It was always fun seeing how you could draw connections between seemingly completely unrelated topics, then again that was likely how you were such a good scientist. As he continued to read, fascinated by your research he began to wonder something. Looking to you his heart melted. “I love you.” Immediately his heart raced, and he felt that heat raising to his cheeks. What if a person were to vent to another, even if they weren’t paying attention? Perhaps because he still had told you, he still would have gotten this off his chest and he’d stop almost confessing to you so often.

· That was how Nagito had begun to whisper his affections to you as you slept. It was a thrill like no other, fearing you’d awake right as he confessed his feelings, yet also endlessly excited by the thought as well. There was more than a fair share of times where he was almost caught, but it seemed you were none the wiser to his words of love.

· “Hmm? Komeada? What are you mumbling about?” For a moment he froze, love struck at your soft tender expression. “Ah-uh-Oh? I was speaking? I apologize if I woke you up.” You simply huffed in response… a-and you just kept looking at him? Oh boy. Did you know? Was he finally caught? What would your response be? What did you think of him? “Thank you.” “Huh?” You smiled, nuzzling into him. “having this… instantaneous version of narcolepsy… Even though I started studying, I could never figure out how to stop it, maybe that’s because I get distracted easily, I- wait, no. No tangents.” You took a deep breath trying to reorganize your thoughts. “It… can be scary, one moment being awake then suddenly asleep. Before you I’d often sleep on the train and go way past my stop and get lost. There have also been a number of near-death experiences like when I fell asleep when walking across the street. I… it’s nice, knowing you’re around. To keep me safe and keep an eye on me. And I guess waking up to hearing your voice, waking up knowing for a fact I was safe… I don’t know, it was just nice, and I want you to know, I truly do appreciate you putting up with me.”

· How… how could you make him fall for you more and more so effortlessly? Well, if you liked hearing his voice when you woke up… maybe… maybe next time he wouldn’t stop speaking of his love for you, even as you awoke. After all, he could never deny you anything, especially not your own comfort and ease of mind.

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shoichee · 3 years

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Can you do a scenario with Murasakibara, Hanamiya, Imayoshi and Kagami where their S/O really wants a lot of attention like cuddles etc? Do you mind making it fluffy as hell? I just finished finals and I’m so drained mentally. Good luck with your finals I hope you do well luv! 💗

My rules are 3 characters max for requests (GoM requests are the exceptions), but it’s been a looong time, so I’ll do them all as a treat! I RLLY HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY, FINALS SUCK SO MUCH :(( I think i did my finals alright heh // these are more formatted as fluffy (within their character LOL) reactions more than anything, enjoy! IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG PLS FORGIVE ME ANON

Murasakibara Atsushi

“Hnn?” He looked away from his plate on the table in the living room to see you fidgeting with the hem of your shirt after asking to cuddle. Your shirt had been slightly stained from all the messy cooking you both did together earlier for lunch in his home. “Okay.”

Murasakibara immediately goes back to eating his shrimp tempuras, delicately picking each one to pop into his mouth despite his large hands. He didn’t need to look at you to see how flustered you were in hearing such a casual response from him. Normally, he would be hesitant to agree, he knew that, but sensing how you were too antsy in wanting physical touches from him, he didn’t mind to indulge you. Besides, who’s to say that this isn’t also a treat for him, as well? Not like he would admit that so readily though.

“What are you standing for, (y/n)-chin?” he slightly frowns with an averted gaze before opting to stare at his food on the table instead. “Hurry up already…” At his words, you skipped to sit on the floor next to him with a happy flush, sitting close to him and watching him finish his meal before you can pounce on him. Murasakibara eyes you swaying side to side with anticipation, and he immediately sighs with closed eyes before he gently puts down his chopsticks. Your questioning gaze immediately morphs into one of surprise when he swiftly picks you up and places you on his lap, with your back against his chest and his chin on top of your head.

“Hm? Why do you look surprised? Didn’t you wanna cuddle?” he drawls, moving his chin off your head and tilting your head back by nudging your chin upward to gently kiss your forehead. The languid giant then picks up his utensils again to pick up the last shrimp on the plate to place it against your lips. “Hurry already, food doesn’t taste good when it gets cold, (y/n)-chin…”

As you were chewing, he put the chopsticks on the cleared plate and pushed it away towards the center of the table, all while nuzzling his own face closer to your hair and temple.

You also didn’t miss the way his spare arm was slowly sneaking around your stomach to pull you tauter against his own warm body.

“Hm…” he hums with a deep rumble from his chest. “You feel nice… Oy, stop moving around, (y/n)-chin… what are you doing?” He curiously stares at your fingers carding through his moppy hair, wondering why you’re so drawn to it. When you tell him that you simply want to appreciate every part of him, he merely smiles like a satisfied child before he takes that same hand running through his hair to place a chaste kiss in the palm.

“Hm?” He slyly smirks at your flustered expression. “I want to appreciate every part of (y/n)-chin too, obviously.”

Hanamiya Makoto

Most would be very afraid to be in the near vicinity of Hanamiya Makoto. You’re one of the very few who would approach him so unabashedly, let alone be direct about what you want from him. Even still, Hanamiya raises a thick brow at you before loudly scoffing at the question of you two possibly cuddling together because you “missed his touch.” He ignores you completely and turns his attention back to analyze his teammates practicing on the court, reclining his back further on the bleachers with a stretch. Yet, he’s inwardly ticked yet somewhat touched that you knew that he had no objections to you cozying up to him, without him needing to say anything. Ah, but the ever so “Bad Boy” wouldn’t easily let you approach him like so, and he knew from the way you were standing there expectantly, you knew too. After all, Hanamiya would never pass up an opportunity to potentially savor the sweet taste of misfortune of others, no matter how menial.

“Come over here, darling~” he coos with an open grin as he continues to relax with his arms behind his head, saccharine tone oozing with his dark, rich voice. “I can’t stand a moment without you by my side.” Of course, he once again feels conflicting emotions of subtle pride and irritation in being unsuccessful in embarrassing, flustering, or even provoking you in the slightest. When you settled yourself by his side with a casual scoff of your own, he immediately shot out his arm around your shoulders and cradled your head closer to lay on his shoulder. But he leans in close to your ear to hiss with his usual infuriating sneer, “Like I’d ever say that, dumbass.” You only respond with a customary retort before snuggling closer against him, pulling his arm around your side for more optimal cuddles.

Even despite the harsh rebuke, his touch is gentle, reverring, protective one would dare say, even if his eyes are currently more occupied watching the court than you.

“... Hey,” he curtly calls out after some minutes later, flicking your ear with the hand around your shoulders to ensure you are listening to him. He gets a small sense of satisfaction seeing your dismayed expression. “You’re being awfully damn clingy lately. Are you actually that fucking touch-starved?” Yet again, his actions betray his words, the same fingers that harshly flicked your ear were now softly toying with your hair near your temple in a clumsy, nonverbal attempt to soothe you.

He hates how you somehow knew yet again how he meant that he was only curious about your recent actions, the way you cheekily replied back how he’s actually reciprocating the cuddles with a raspberry tongue to try to provoke a reaction from his end. And he hates it even more when he willingly lets you reciprocate the soft touches when you tuck his shoulder-length hair behind his ear.

But all he could do to save face was to click his tongue arrogantly. Even still, you somehow see straight through him.

Imayoshi Shoichi

“My, my, those are quite some puppy eyes you’re shooting at me, hm?” Imayoshi relaxes his posture and lays back against the couch to give his signature closed-eye smile. “To think you were this needy.” He simply cocks his head innocently, but you knew something ulterior simmered behind that grin. Even without opening his eyes, his “stare” was still overwhelming in intensity that you couldn’t help but squirm and debate to take back your request.

“Ho? What’s with that look, my dear (y/n)? Don’t mind me darling, keep doing what you were doing before… Hm? I’m being mean?... I’m only graciously doing what you asked me to do. You wanted my attention, correct? You have my full attention now…” His smirk only grows wider when you huff at his comments. “You meant that you wanted to cuddle when you asked for my attention…? Now, now, (y/n), you know that greed is the greatest vice… Still, how cute of you to try to monopolize all of me so.”

Before you can either utter a single comeback or simply leave the room, he abruptly wraps his arms around you and immediately encloses you between his legs. You look up to try to scold him for being so difficult, but all words are caught in your throat when his eyes are slightly open in relishing your figure in his embrace. He merely smiles at your stunned silence, although he knew that you could tell that it was a genuine, affectionate one.

As you begin to relax, Imayoshi rubs gentle circles on your arms, occasionally giving a goading comment or two that elicited eyerolls from your end. Eventually, when you fall into a light snooze from his therapeutic touches, he stares at you fondly for quite some time before an idea crept into his mind.

“My dear (y/n)...” he purrs into your ear. “Am I really reduced to a body pillow for your convenience, my love? I’m hurt.” When you slightly jolt awake from the unexpected closeness of his voice, he merely chuckles at your reaction before hugging you tighter and settling his head atop your shoulder. “Well, I must admit, you’re quite lucky that I’m just as greedy for your attention, darling. In fact, if you’re not careful, I might just end up becoming greedier if you end up forgetting about me… eh? You wouldn’t…? Really now… you’re insisting that I can also ask you for attention, any time?...

… how cute, (y/n), but I must warn you to be careful about what you say, yes? Hm? You really do mean it?... ‘only for you,’ you say? Hah… you really are adorable… quite beyond my expectations.”

Imagine his actual, shell-shocked surprise when you suddenly turn around to face him to nuzzle into his neck with a sneaky kiss attack. He stiffens up, his eyes fully blown open to process the sudden sensation his body just experienced, and he could do nothing but chuckle with a slight chagrined blush.

“... You really never cease to amaze me, hm?”

Kagami Taiga

When you mentioned how cold today was, he already knew since that morning; his body has always had an aversion to the cold, and unfortunately for him, he just happened to be more sensitive to lower temperatures than the average person too.

“Well, yeah… I guess it’s been cold,” Kagami mumbles, scooting himself closer to the kotatsu in an attempt to absorb more of the brazier’s heat. And he’s been sitting there almost motionless for nearly an hour, closing his eyes and breathing softly to conserve his body heat.

When he finally opens his eyes again, Kagami turns to you to invite you to a seat next to him, but he nervously gulps when he sees you standing there with a mischievous look on your face. Who knows how long you’ve been observing him?

When you open your mouth to suggest cuddling to stave off the cold, he erupts a cherry red, knowing full well you were taking advantage of his tendency to get cold extremely easily. But you didn’t stop there. You teased him that he ignored you the entire time, and so, cuddles were only appropriate to make it up to you.

Kagami suddenly felt warm from the rush of blood rising to his face and neck.

“C-C-Cuddle?!... well, yeah… w-we’ve done this before… No! I’m not thinking anything more out of it…! It’s just… I—well, no! It’s not that I don’t wanna cuddle! It’s just…” He sputters, but stops when he realizes that he just admitted to not objecting to having a cuddle session, and he merely sweatdrops when he sees a victorious grin growing wider on your cheeks. “Fine… you must be cold too, right?—Wha, where did that blanket even come from?!”

You immediately plopped the weighted fleece blanket over his shoulders like a cape and tackled him with a hug, making sure to tug the blanket over your own body too. Kagami can only react by catching you while trying to break both of your falls, and he topples from his criss-cross sitting position to end up laying next to you, face-to-face.

“S-Stop squirming… how else are we supposed to cuddle if you keep moving under this heavy-ass blanket…? Pfft, well, it’s pretty warm now, huh? Come closer, yeah?” He nudges your head up against his chest, and his breath fans over your head as you sling your own arm over his waist.

“I dunno about you, but I wanna stay like this for a while… if that’s okay with you.”

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 3 years

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We Have A Pool?!

Summary: There’s a secret swimming pool at Hogwarts. Y/N discovered it purely on accident in her first year, and it has become her safe place, that is until a particular Weasley find it as well.

Warnings: SMUT! (fingering, vaginal, etc) SMUT WITH PLOT IN A POOL YALL (ok I heard pool sex can be not great for everyone, so maybe don’t try it unless your into that then go off) Swearing, no proof reading, an irrational amount of commas because the public school system failed me. The end

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: OK so IDK if there's canonically a pool at Hogwarts, I just heard it in a starkid play and was like “Hey, I like that” So I made it all up so if there is/isn’t actually a pool pls don’t come for me. Also HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you’re all happy and are making progress to becoming even happier.

Your elbows rested on the desk in front of you, your fingers rubbing circles into your temples as you tried to pay attention to the class in front of you. This past week had been stressful to say the least, you had three different essays, all needing to be at least four pages long, as well as a potions exam and a herbology quiz. To say you were excited for the weekend was an understatement.

And you knew just where you were going to spend it.

As soon as class was dismissed, you started packing your bag as quickly as possible, wanting to get to your room to finish your homework and change before going to your favorite spot for some much needed stress relief.

You practically ran out of the class, heading straight to the Gryffindor common room, but before you could get far, two tall bodies appeared at your left and right sides.

“Someone seems to be in a hurry” Fred said, looking to George who nodded in agreement.

“Indeed, where are we off to Y/N?” George asked.

“Oh, its a wonderful place, I don’t think you would have head of it. It’s called nun ya” You said, causing the boys to raise an eyebrow at you.

“Nun ya?” Fred asked

“Nun ya business” You joked, causing the older red to head to gasp in feign hurt, while George tried to stifle a laugh.

You and the twins had been friends since you were children, being next door neighbors and being the same age meant you spent a lot of time together, especially when your parents went on business trips and left you at the burrow. You had grown to become really close to them. However, over the past few years George and Angelina had started hanging out more, leaving you and Fred to get closer.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t have a giant crush on him.

“Wow, were your best friends in the world and you wont even tell us where you’re going. I’m hurt!” Fred cried, making you laugh a bit.

“I’m just going back to my room to do some homework. I’ll see you guys at dinner yeah?” You asked, turning to wave at the two boys, who stood in confused silence as they watched you walk away.

“Well, she’s hiding something” George said.

“Definitely” Fred agreed.

A few hours later, you had gotten dinner, finished your homework, and were currently laying in bed, waiting for Angelina and Katie to fall asleep. After a while, their breathing evened out, and you quietly got out of bed, putting your pillow under the covers to make it look like you were still sleeping there just in case one of them woke up.

You tip toed out of the room, making sure to close the door as quietly as possible before making your way down the steps, and out of the common room. Once you were a bit farther away, you cast lumos to navigate better through the hallway. You took a right, then a left, then another left, before finally finding your way to the empty arythmancy classroom.

You made your way to the bookcase on the far left side of the room, running your finger along the spines before landing on a familiar blue cover labeled The Geometry of Liquids. You pulled the book back until you heard a click, pushing the bookcase forward which easily swung open to reveal a hallway.

You couldn’t help but smile as the smell of salt water filled your nose, quickly stepping behind the book case before closing it behind you. As you walked further down the hallway, you began to see a blue light, finally turning the last corner, you found yourself in an abandoned dungeon, with a large pool in the middle of it.

You had accidentally stumbled across this room in your fourth year. You were bored, all of your friends either at Hogsmeade or detention Fred and George, and had found the abandoned classroom. You started going through the books, and the rest is history. You had been coming here at least once a week ever since.

You muttered the spell to stop the light coming from your wand, the pool somehow giving off its own soft blue light, before removing your shirt and sleep shorts, exposing the green bikini you had put on earlier.

Walking closer to the edge, you took a few running steps before plugging your nose and jumping off the pool wall, landing in the water below.

You sat there for a moment, allowing the cool feeling to sink deeper into your body. You had gotten a lot better at holding your breath over the years, still eventually you had to come back to the surface for air, which you did. You wiped the water off your face, opening your eyes to find a pair of dark brown ones looking back.

“Fred!” You screamed, surprised by his sudden presence. He stood at the edge of the water in a pair of jersey shorts and a t-shirt, his jaw on the floor as he looked at you, then to the rest of the room.

“What are you... who’d you get here?” You continued, his silence making you a bit nervous.

“We have a pool?” He asked looking back to you, causing you to nod.

“Yeah...” You said, feeling a bit guilty for not telling him before.

You had planned on telling him, along with the rest of your friends, but you were worried that word would get around and it would become a new party spot, which meant it would only be a matter of time before a teacher found it and blocked it off.

“How long have you known this was here?” Fred asked.

You sighed, swimming to the side wall and pulling yourself out, ringing out your hair before crossing your arms in front of you.

“A while” You mumbled, feeling a bit ashamed.

“And you didn’t tell us because...” He started, wanting an explanation.

“I didn’t want everyone to find out, because then the teachers would find out-”

“And then nobody would be able to use it” Fred finished, causing you to nod, still refusing to meet his eyes, your own question suddenly popping into your mind.

“Wait, how did you find it?” You asked, finally looking up to meet his gaze, your heart beating a bit faster at the eye contact.

Now it was Fred’s turn to look guilty. “I followed you”

“You fo- why!” You shouted

“I’m sorry! It’s just, you were upset earlier and you seemed really excited about something, and then I saw you walking around and I don’t know I just followed you.” Fred blurted out, looking at you with a nervous expression.

“Ok fine, I’m not mad at you if you’re not mad at me” You tried to reason, wanting a truce.

“Deal” He said smiling, holding out his hand for you to shake, which you did. Unfortunately this made it so you didn’t see his other hand quickly come around to connect with your shoulder, pushing you back into the pool.

You quickly got your bearings, kicking back to the surface to find Fred keeled over with laughter.

“You dick!” You shouted, which only made him laugh harder. You began laughing as well, before ducking under the water to move your hair away from your face, popping back up to see Fred walking over to where your clothes and wand were laying.

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously, you eyes widening as his hands went to the hem of his shirt.

“Getting in, duh” Fred stated, before pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned chest, making your face heat up in the process.

Before you could say anything, Fred was running towards the pool at full speed before jumping into a cannon ball and landing right next to you, sending buckets of water flying into your face.

Your mouth fell open in shock, watching as Fred came back up to the surface, laughing once he saw your expression.

“Oh nuh uh” You grumbled, shooting out your hands to send water flying back at Fred, abruptly cutting off his laughter.

“Oh really?” he asked mockingly, sending a wave of water back at you, only for you to return a wave as well.

Soon enough, water was flying in all directions as you each tried to splash each other as fast as you could, the sound of both of your laughs echoing off the walls.

You were splashing as fast as you could, looking away to avoid getting hit in the face as you aimed blindly, only stopping when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your middle and spin you around.

“Got cha!” Fred yelled, your arms landing around his neck to stabilize yourself as you shouted in surprise.

Fred stopped spinning, allowing the both of you to calm down and catch your breath, which made your heartbeat pick up at the realization of the position you were in. Your bodies pressed together as his arms remained around your waist, and yours around his neck.

You pulled back a bit to look at him, meeting his gaze before his eyes wandered down to your mouth, yours doing the same before he finally pulled you closer, and connected his lips to yours.

You responded instantly, moving your lips with his as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His arms moved downwards to hold you by your ass as he walked you over to the side of the pool, pressing you up against the wall.

He tugged at your bottom lip, making you moan into the kiss and allow his tongue to explore your mouth. You moved a hand up to his hair, weaving your fingers through the wet, fiery strands, and deepening the kiss even further. His hard length pressed against you, and your hands began traveling down his chest.

He suddenly pulled away making you open your eyes to look at him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, a soft look in his eyes.

You nodded.

Fred moved his lips to just below your ear, hovering just over the skin. “I need to hear you princess”

“Please, I need you Freddie” You whined, gasping as his lips came in contact with your neck.

He continued his attack on your neck as his hand moved in between you, dipping into your bikini bottoms before sliding his fingers through your folds. Your breath hitched as he slid two fingers into you, slowly pumping them in an out as his thumb drew circled over your clit, the coil in your stomach tightening as he began to speed up.

“Fred, I need you inside of me” You sighed, whining as he removed his fingers. His hands moved to lower his shorts a bit letting his cock spring free, moving your bikini bottoms to the side before gliding through your folds.

"You ready?” He asked, causing you to nod. “With your words princess”

“Please Fred just fuck me” You practically begged, before moaning as he slowly filled you up, his size stretching you out slightly.

He waited a moment, allowing you to adjust before you finally nodded, allowing him to move. He slowly pulled out half way, before thrusting back into you, repeating the action and picking up speed with each thrust.

You bit your lip to try and suppress your moans, but Fred wasn’t having any of it.

“None of that princess” He said, stopping his movements and making you whine “I want to hear you screaming my name when you come, got it?” He asked, still refusing to move.

“Ok fine, please just move-ah!” You gasped loudly as he started thrusting into you, much faster than before.

Water sloshed around you as he pounded into you, your back scratching against to tile with each thrust but you didn’t care. His cock hit that one spot perfectly with each stroke, tightening the coil in your stomach more and more.

“You’re so perfect, taking my cock so well” Fred breathed into your ear, causing you to let out a soft moan. “I can’t hear you princess”

His hand slipped in between your bodies, beginning to rub fast circles around your bungle of nerves, causing the coil in your stomach to finally snap, sending you over the edge, while screaming Fred's name over and over again.

Fred continued to thrust into you, riding you through your orgasm, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy before he stilled inside of you, painting your walls as he came.

You sat like that for a moment, catching your breath as you came down from your high. Fred pressed his lips to yours as he slowly pulled out, causing you to sigh at the empty feeling before moving both of your bottoms to their original place.

A wave of insecurity suddenly washed over you. Was this a one time thing? Was he still mad that I hid this from him? Does he want to just be friends with benefits? does he-

“Hey, what’s happening” Fred asked, snapping you out of your thoughts, a curious expression on his face.

“Um...” You started, setting yourself up for the possibility of rejection. “Was this a one time thing? Because, if it is I don’t want to-”

Fred cut you off by gently grabbing your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours, silencing all the insecure thoughts running through your mind.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you since fourth year, I really hope this isn’t a one time thing” He said, making you smile.

“Since fourth year?” You asked, causing his face to blush a bit.

“Well, yeah” He replied sheepishly.

“Well, I’ve liked you since third year, so I guess I like you more” You joked, causing him to let out a gasp.

“Not possible, I like you way more than you like me” He argued, to which you shook your head.

“Nope, I win, hands down” You responded, folding your arms matter of factely.

“How about, we go shower off, and I show you how much I like you?” Fred asked, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Challenge accepted” You replied, all the while you couldn't hide the smile on your face.

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A/N: UMMMM ok??? Pool sex. With Fred Weasley??? Am I obsessed with this concept? Yes. Is it healthy, probably not but its not hurting anyone so I’m a keep doing it. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, feel free to leave any suggestions or feedback. I love you all! ALSO IF YOU KNOW OF ANY FRED POOL SMUT PLEASE TAG ME OMG

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley in a pool yall #i will be passing away #fred weasley smut #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine

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the-piece-of-spadille · 3 years

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Hello! If you're still taking requests for the kiss prompts, can I request 14 for Kid please? Maybe after a tough fight with some other pirates, Kid can't find his crush and fears the worst, then is so relieved when they're fine that he just can't stop himself from kissing them desperately? (Also, do you write for all One Piece characters?)

Thank you so much for requesting! Kid is one of my favorites and I have such a soft spot for him. I’m not caught up in One Piece but I’m willing to try writing for anyone and if for whatever reason I can’t I’ll always let you know that way you don’t wait around and can ask somebody else to answer your request. Hope you enjoy!

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This morning on the Victoria Punk started out as any other typical morning. With you underneath the captain. Soft and beautiful moans contrast with harsh grunts in the captain’s quarters. Every crewmember knows better than to come knocking on Kid’s door so when Heat knocked and called out “Boss,” Kid continued thrusting and ignored him. Again, Heat knocked louder with urgency, and Kid not having it shouted, “I’m fucking busy.”

The door slammed opened with a loud crack by an angry Killer and you let out a yelp in surprise. Kid immediately covered your body with his, shielding you from eyes of the masked man. “Couldn’t you guys wait” you shout in anger. If Kid didn’t have to worry about exposing your body, he’d probably throw them overboard and leave the for the sea kings.

“There’s a ship tailing us. They’ll soon catch up to us, so put your damn clothes on and be ready to fight.” With that Killer slammed the door shut and left. Kid buries his face in your shoulder before huffing out in anger. Running your hand through his unruly red hair giving it a little tug “You heard him, we better get dressed before he comes back.”

Kid answers with a growl and gives you a quick kiss, biting your lip and pulls out. He eyes you over once more and gives you a devilish smile. “Stay in bed and don’t touch yourself.” Covering yourself up with a bed sheet, you enjoy the view of your captain struggling to get dressed into his pants, no doubt from his raging hard on. He hears your muffled giggle that you try to cover with your hand and glares at you. He flips you off and heads for the door. “Don’t keep me waiting long!” He stops and turns around with that smug smirk of his, “Wouldn’t dream of it doll.”

Fluffing one of the many pillows on the bed to get comfortable, you can hear loud yelling and swords clashing. It feels kind of wrong to be lying in bed naked while the rest of the crew is fighting on the ship. You hear footsteps just outside the door and expect Killer to yell at you to come join the fight, but a stranger storms inside the cabin. He clearly sees you caught off guard and races towards you with a sword. However, he wasn’t expecting you to pull out a gun from under your pillow. Quickly you take aim and pulled the trigger instantly putting an end to his life. His momentum causes him to fall onto the bed drenching the sheet and blankets in blood. Gross. Kicking the body off the bed and onto the floor with a thump, you deem the room unsafe and decide it’s best to get changed and head out onto the upper deck to lend a hand.

Kid heard the gunshot come from the direction of his cabin and his blood runs cold. Something happened and he couldn’t see his cabin from his position. The enemy pirates took notice of his distracted state and surrounded him, but Killer was quick to jump in and intervene before they could make an attack. “She’s fine” knowing what he must be thinking. “As soon as we clear these guys off the ship you can go find her.”

Wanting to slaughter the enemy pirates, Kid summons all the surrounding metal to form a giant arm and swings it. Most die from the impact and those that did not got thrown into the ocean. He repels the remaining metal from his arm into their ship, causing it to slowly sink into the depths of the sea. A part of him feels like they got off to easy but wastes no more time heading to his quarters.

Kid doesn’t bother opening the door and smashes it to pieces. His eyes searching for you, but he doesn’t see you. That’s when he spots all the blood. “…no, … no, no” His heart beating rapidly while he tugs at the fallen strands of his hair. His brain tells him it’s not true, that he’s overthinking but he can’t deny what’s in front of him. There’s no body, but it was evident there was one laying in the bed from the pooled blood on the bedding. Right where he told you to stay.

He’s trying his best not to panic but it feels as if his heart is going to leap out of his chest any second now. Refusing to believe anything until he actually sees your body, he calls out your name and it comes out hoarse and quiet and not at all like his normal voice. How could you be gone? Where was your body? Kid tugs at his hair hard as his eyes brim with tears. He’s dreamt horrible nightmares of you meeting a cruel end. You were just in his arms this morning. You can’t be gone but he can’t stop looking at the blood that covers his bed.

The wooden floor creaks behind him but he doesn’t budge. He doesn’t have the means to turn and yell at whoever is there watching him live his greatest fear. Emotions be damned. A gentle hand was placed over his and slowly pulled his hand away from his hair.

“Kid, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Whipping his head around at your voice, Kid immediately grabs you roughly and squeezes a little too hard with his mechanical hand and abruptly smashes his lips on yours. You stagger back not expecting him to suddenly kiss you with such force, and he’s quick pulls you flushed against himself. Both of his hands running over your body while he continues to kiss you feverishly. You kiss him back of course but you know something is wrong. He looked so defeated when you walked inside and when he turned around you swore you caught a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

You know you need to figure out what happened, so you brace your hands on his chest and give him a light push. He pulls his lips away slowly and takes in a shaky breath before turning his face away from your sight. “Talk to me please” you coax, rubbing his arm. Clearing his throat and still not letting you look at his face “I... I thought that” he stops, not able to bring himself to say it. Kid wipes at his face and starts again. “I heard a shot. Then I saw that” pointing over to the mess on the bed, “and didn’t see you.”

Realization hit like a stab to the gut of what the scene looked like to him. “Oh, Kid I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about you finding that.” Cupping his face, wiping away a stay tear and giving him a tender kiss, you explain what happened and how you thought it’d be best to leave the room to go help fight. He gives you a quick look over just to make sure you’re not harmed and picks you up by your waist. You wrap your legs around his middle while he just holds you, tucking his face in your neck.

“There’s still the body on the other side of the bed that we need to get rid of.”

#eustass kid #Eustass Kidd #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x reader #kidd x reader #one piece #one piece kid #one piece x reader #kid one piece #one piece writing #one piece prompt #one piece imagine #eustass kid imagine #The kid pirates #kid pirates #kid pirates x reader

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monsterywriting · 3 years

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Dirrath pt 11

Masterlist

word count: 3,201

AN: finals are officially over and i’m finally free! here’s the next part of Dirrath and 13′s story that surprisingly doesn’t have all that much Dirrath in it.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Dirrath asked, withholding the knife from you just before you could take it from him, “You have to concentrate, even if the pain becomes unbearable.”

“I know, I’m the one who told you that,” you scoff in exasperation, “and if I can’t, you can scrape my guts off the floor and heal them back into place.”

The demon begrudgingly relinquishes the knife to you, watching silently as you bring its sharpened edge to your leg and making a long stripe up your thigh, barely breaking the skin.

You glance briefly up at your coconspirator as you hand him back the knife, your eyes meeting as you both steeled yourselves in preparation for what you were about to attempt.

The certainty with which Dirrath had accepted your proposition was replaced with anxiety now that you were on the verge of going through with the plan. He had been fairly easy to convince with your theory for healing yourself, even if you couldn’t exactly show him the proof of your healed paper cut.

But the apprehension was understandable. A lot of things could go wrong with this. You could lose your focus and set back your healing even further or be unable to perform the same trick twice. Or you may die of exhaustion or blood loss before you even got close to healing your stab wound. There was a lot at stake here, but the potential reward could be you regaining your strength faster and actually be able to use your magic again for the remainder of your time in Roquechade’s castle.

You weren’t going to be able to fix the glamor issue in a week, but with Dirrath’s growing impatience for a cure, you might finally be able to at least convince him to tell you more about his curse.

For now, however, you concentrate your entire attention on healing the wound on your gut. You weren’t sure how you can focus the strain of using magic to the cut on your leg, but you tried first visualizing it; imagining the magic exiting your thigh and entering into your stomach.

You didn’t know much about the theories behind magic, your tutors believing it much more important to learn its applications and teaching you extensively means of harnessing magic easier. This was the easiest method for you, imagining magic as a tangible object, moving and acting upon the world around you. So, instead of questioning whether this was possible, you instead focus on making the magic work.

For a few tense moments, nothing happens. Dirrath says something, but you quickly tune out all outside distractions and focus harder. Soon enough, you feel a tug in your abdomen.

It isn’t like the work done by the castle healers in Altruria; they could undo an injury completely, turn back time on broken bones, cuts and bruises until the patient was as good as new. This was the distinct sensation of your wound stitching itself together.

You don’t feel the pain in your thigh immediately, so you don’t realize it’s actually working until you feel warm liquid running down your leg. A good sign that the deterioration only happens there, at least.

The pain grows steadily as the cut deepens but just as it begins to grow unbearable, Dirrath begins to heal it.

It gets harder to focus as both wounds now heal simultaneously, constantly catching yourself before you can flip your attention to the wrong one. Dirrath also heals faster than you, constantly having to stop his own healing to allow the wound to deteriorate again but also serving as another distraction for you.

Your body was also quickly tiring. The tutors always said you had a bad habit of using magic incredibly inefficiently, falling back to these bad tactics even after learning less taxing methods and counteracting any natural talent you may have held. It didn’t matter to you much then, having very little practical use for magic in your life until that point.

Now, however, you felt it, realizing they had been right as your strength began to crash. You forced yourself onward, the muscles of your arms and legs convulsing as you pulled energy from them.

Dirrath was yelling, you think, but you still don’t break your concentration even after you no longer felt the pull of healing in your abdomen.

Suddenly, Dirrath was shaking you out of your trance and your magic halting with your broken focus. You felt as though you just ran a marathon, drenched in sweat and panting for air.

You look down at your stomach, relieved to see the stab wound had been reduced to a white line. You were just about ready to pass out, no longer concerned with the task of healing as Dirrath finished up healing on his own end.

“Stay awake,” the demon said, snapping his fingers in front of your dazed eyes, “You didn’t concentrate it on the cut at the end there. You have some deterioration everywhere.”

You blink away the sleep, though you can’t help but relax into the plush mattress and pillows. You know Dirrath’s right, this point the most critical in keeping you alive, but it’s difficult to fight how sore you feel everywhere or how your eyes throb with the need to close immediately. However, the moment you feel your eyelids begin to slide down involuntarily, the door slams open.

“What the hell happened here?” Olek demanded from the doorway, his sudden entrance succeeding in keeping you awake, adrenaline coursing through your veins at being caught by the one person who you did not want to catch you.

Your captain looked downright livid as he took in the scene before him. Granted, you could imagine exactly how bad it looked. You were definitely looking a complete mess; sweat rolling down your face into your eyes, your legs still twitching with residual spasms and your entire body feeling like one giant bruise. Worst of all, standing next to you with knife still in hand was Dirrath, the one person still in the castle who wasn’t currently locked away that the captain still mistrusted.

You try to explain, your words coming out so hoarse and stilted even you had trouble understanding what you were trying to say. You instead switch tactics to tapping one finger on the small scar that now adorned your stomach, a sharp contrast to the angry red, puckered flesh that had been there before.

“Gods above, what have you done? You could have died!” Olek snarled, an all-too-familiar vein beginning to pop out of his forehead once he turned to Dirrath, “And you- I’ve held my tongue about your for long enough. This was the final straw!”

Olek stalked into the room straight towards Dirrath, slamming the door shut behind him. The demon, to his credit, didn’t outwardly flinch, but it was clear by the way his body tensed that he was not underestimating the captain.

Before Olek could reach him, Dirrath thankfully let the knife fall onto the bed, making the captain’s grip on the handle of his sword lessen slightly. Only slightly.

“Stop,” you croaked, mustering the strength to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and somehow managing to stand on wobbly knees. No matter how precarious your balancing act, you’re determined to take the few steps necessary to put yourself in between your captain and the demon.

“You shouldn’t even be able to stand right now,” Olek chided, stepping forward to try and sit you back down.

“Well, I couldn’t go to the banquet injured, and this way I can be of more use if something does go wrong,” you retort, your patience running thin, “What’s done is done. It’s over now.”

“What you’ve done- it was stupid. If you had killed yourself, then everything would have been for nothing! You should have told me instead of trusting this idiot-”

“Well, he’s done more to help me than you! What would you have been able to do, Olek?” You snap, the words that left you sinking in just moments later and all anger immediately dissipating as you tried to backpedal, “Wait, Olek-”

Your stomach twists as Olek’s expression also drains of anger, unreadable as he abruptly turns to leave. He pauses, not looking at you as he turns back to grab Dirrath by his collar and drag the demon out the room with him. You flinch as the door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone once more.

You sit heavily on the edge of the bed, your body still aching but unable to fall asleep with the lingering regret on your mind as your words repeated themselves on it.

Garreth was the one to bring your food that afternoon - a testament to Olek’s current standing - standing nervously in the center of the room while he waited for you to finish eating.

“Sit,” you gesture to one of the couches, unable to handle the formalities normally shoved upon you at the moment.

Most of the members of your guard refused to speak informally with you. Whether that was because they found you unworthy of your title or because they respected it too much to get comfortable with you, you had no clue. Garreth was one of the few that normally reciprocated your attempts at small talk, but evidently word had gotten around about your spat with Olek. But while you didn’t quite feel up to the normal chitchat, you did take the opportunity to interrogate the guard.

“He didn’t say anything when he returned. Just started ordering everyone to stop lazying around. Then he ordered me to bring your food when the servant brought it. He still tasted it, of course, my princess.”

You frown at the sudden inclusion of your title, which deepens with the new information that Olek would test your food. You had no doubt it was in case of the eventuality that it was poisoned, but you couldn’t help the bitterness settling deep in your belly at how you now had to be constantly watched over and protected for the rest of your life. But now was not the time for that, still trying to gauge how badly you’d ruined things between you and Olek.

“Is this your first time arguing with him?” Garreth asks slowly, the awkwardness of his tone shifting into something softer, understanding even. You nod glumly, the urge to right your wrong overpowering any sense of embarrassment.

“That’s… surprising,” he replied, shifting in his seat, “He was always arguing with the 13th, er- the one before you. The 8th was always breaking up their fights.”

Your head shot up to stare at Garreth, studying his expression for any sign of deception. A million questions circle in your mind, each vying to be the first out your mouth. You didn’t know which new piece of information to address first. The fact that Garreth thought Olek particularly belligerent or that Olek would actually come to blows.

But what you truly wanted to ask about was your predecessor; the 13 before you. You knew nothing of the person you replaced. The only bit of information you’d been given was when you first arrived, the castle still grieving at the time. All you knew was that you were replacing them because they had died, not the usual vacancy left in the court after an older member retires or dies and all the subsequent titles shift down a number. You didn’t ask questions at the time and no one bothered to fill in the details for you.

What would they fight about? How could it get so heated they would actually, physically fight? Olek was a stick in the mud, sure, but you never thought he’d actually fight you over the things he’d get annoyed with you about. In fact, he was always so patient with you, it used to make you feel bad how he would have to explain things about the capital or your studies.

“It got so bad, the High Queen would threaten to intervene. In retrospect, I suppose if Captain Olek had been the problem they would have just transferred him out,” Garreth continued, seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil.

“What were they like? The 13th?” You ask, feeling it somehow wrong to condense the magnitude of a person with all their complexities into such a simple question, but unable to keep yourself from asking it.

“Captain Olek could tell you better than I,” Garreth said truthfully, smiling sheepishly as you deflated at the reminder of your ongoing conflict with your captain, “Can I ask what exactly happened?”

“I did something stupid- and when Olek tried to tell me that, I said something very insensitive that I regret,” you grimace, wanting to fold in on yourself at the very memory of what exactly you said, unable to bring yourself to repeat them to Garreth, “Thank you, I’m done.”

You present your empty plate, watching as the guard takes it and leaves. Before he closes the door, Garreth turns to look at you one last time, seemingly deep in thought before he speaks.

“Olek is tough and loyal. I’m sure he wasn’t hurt by what you said, but he would definitely be worried about you doing something that would put you in danger.”

You’re left alone once again, Garreth’s kind words unfortunately doing little to assuage your guilt. And, despite clearing your plate, you were still starving, your body seeking to restore the energy lost in your earlier misadventures.

Eventually, you’re able to briefly fall into a fitful sleep, jolting awake with every errant noise in the castle - which was many in such a large structure.

You wake suddenly one final time when you hear your door creak open. For a brief moment, you think it will be Dirrath bringing the cart of sayerba before remembering there’s no more need for it with your healed stab wound. Instead, it’s Olek, carrying in another tray of food.

Your stomach growls at the aroma of the hot meal, but you say nothing, feeling as though you had to address the elephant in the room but unsure how to proceed.

Olek shouldered that burden for you, clearing his throat as he approached your bedside, “I knew you’d still be hungry after expending that much energy.”

“I’m sorry, Olek,” you blurt out, unable to take his offered truce without at least saying as much, “what I said was a low blow and-”

“It’s alright, Princess,” Olek smiled for a brief second, setting the tray down on the bed for you to take, “I’ve head far worse things growing up. I know you did not mean it maliciously.”

You ate in relative silence, Olek sitting on his usual armchair in the corner. You try to think of something to say as you shovel the food down your gullet, wanting to alleviate some of the tension you still felt, even if only imagined.

“Growing up in the outskirts, no one really had any magical ability. You would have been pretty normal out there,” you finally manage, though it doesn’t come out as quite the compliment you imagined, so you quickly add, “well, the girls in the villages would have been all over you, probably. You look like you’d be a strong farmer.”

Your joke elicits a snort from Olek and you beam.

“I don’t think I’ve every heard you talk about your life from before,” Olek said, the silent prompting not going unnoticed by you.

“Oh yeah, everyone was too afraid to ask in front of you, but they all wanted to know if we really had no plumbing or electricity, or if we all had to make fire from rocks,” you smile wryly, Olek frowning, “In truth, yeah. With no magic, people had to rely on other contraptions, but supplies were hard to come by from the capital and resources were better spent putting them back into the farms.

“The only ones I knew of back then were me and my mother. But there was once a young man who had serious talent,” you falter a bit as the memories flood back, Olek thankfully remaining silent as you worked out what you wanted to say, “He even went to study in the capital for a time. But when he came back, he wasn’t the same, or so his family said. Obsessed with becoming stronger in magic. We got called out after one of his many failed attempts at doing higher magic, but my parents were busy so I was sent ahead. When I got there, he was a mess of innards held together only by his skin.”

Olek sucked in a breath and you realized at some point while you spoke he had leaned forward in his seat, “How old were you?”

“Hm. Twelve?” You ponder, not too sure but settling on that. It had been a long time ago, either way, “But that’s not the point. The point is, he survived for six days like that, his family watching as my mother and I tried to fix him. For a long time, I never wanted to do magic because I was scared of it, thinking that would happen to me.

“But then I was taken to the castle and I learned that magic wasn’t some scary, unknowable force, just a tool that can be used incorrectly like any other. And that I wasn’t scared of magic in and of itself, but that it would drive me to do something as selfish as to watch the people I care about have to see me like his family saw him… and I did that to you today.”

You trail off, losing momentum as you tried to put your concluding thoughts into words. You didn’t feel much lighter, as was commonly said of divulging such burdensome memories to someone else. You just felt sad, all over again. There was no weight lifted, or release after having said it. It was still there, just as heavy and omnipresent as it had been before, but now Olek knew. And perhaps that made you feel the tiniest bit better.

“You’re right,” Olek murmurs, and you sink into the mattress, “Magic is a tool, and while you did use it stupidly… you weren’t using it selfishly. You were trying to help, be useful in a way only you could be. And that’s something that makes you fitting for your title.”

“Thank you, Olek,” you smile, though it quickly falls when you sigh, “But that doesn’t excuse what I said out of anger. You’ve done so much to help me without magic. Remember when I first arrived in the castle? You were the only one who would stop to help me understand things that were happening. And don’t say it was just your job. I know it wasn’t your job to help me cheat on that aptitude test my first week.”

Olek’s mouth fell open and a sound of pure indignation escaped him, but when he was ultimately unable to say anything in his own defense, he burst into laughter. You join in immediately, relieved there’s no searing pain in your abdomen as you laugh.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #reader insert #Demon Boyfriend

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 4- Man on the Moon

*Smut ahead, wink wink

Summary: So you got your ass handed to you last night, but it wasn’t a complete loss of an evening. Now here you are with Diego and Luther, searching in a library for Five.

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes

You wake up tangled next to Diego, the sun is shooting a warm ray on his back, as you feel a heavy limb pressed against your face and realize it’s just his arm. Gosh what a bed hog. You nudge him in the stomach with your fingers, when he doesn’t appear to react you tickle his arm that’s currently trapping you. He squirms away, bringing his arm with him, trailing it across your face and evidently messing up your hair.

“Thank you for that.” You mutter as he wakes up, sucking in a large breath. “Good morning to you too, grumpy.” He smiles, turning himself to the side as he props his head up by his right elbow to better look at you. You fake scowl, doing the same. “We’re gonna have to make a pit stop at subway or something cause I could eat a whole village right now.” You whine, dramatically laying back down on your pillow. Diego laughs at your early morning theatrics, you suddenly throw the blanket away from you and launch yourself over Diego. “I gotta piss, be back.” You yelp, racing to the bathroom to relieve yourself. Diego watches you take off with a giant smile plastered onto his handsome face.

While drying your hands, your mind subconsciously wanders to the pleasant shower you and Diego had last night. You could honestly have gone for a round two when you made it to your bedroom, but Diego looked exhausted so you let him sleep. But it just so happens that he’s awake and not tired at the moment, hmm interesting. You open the door and make your way back into the room, where Diego is laying on his back while staring up at the ceiling. “Hey Diego, real question? Would you be up for a continuation of last nights shower?” You ask him, standing a couple feet from the bed, his eyes grow wider. His princely face breaking out into a smug grin. “If you think you’re up for it.” He shoots back, throwing the covers away from him, sitting himself up on the edge of the mattress.

You grin back at that little comment, holding all the information you need to know that your man’s down to party. Taking him by surprise you launch yourself into the bed, rugby tackling Diego into the mattress. He lets out a huff, about to protest his annoyance when you start to kiss his exposed neck. Making a sweet trail of butterfly kisses up to his jawline, up to both of his cheeks, and finally a deep one on his lips.

He moans in delight as his hands snake around your sides, feeling you up and down, “Y/N you’re wild...but hmm... you do...things to me babe.” He purrs in between kisses. You love taking him off guard at any given opportunity, ranging from random jump scares to tackling him with your own means of loving affection. Although right now you really want some friction, so to satisfy this new craving of yours, you lay completely body to body on Diego. You’re both still clothed but now you can tease him a bit by lightly grinding into his growing bulge. Another sweet and guttural moan is pulled from his needy lips as you press your clothed lady bits over him once again, and again, and again. It’s getting you hot and driving Diego insane. He suddenly flips you onto your back in one fluid motion, you let out a surprised yelp and begin laughing when your head hits the pillow.

“A simple, take your pants off would have done it.” You tell him as he hovers over top of you, breathing heavily and noticeably shirtless. He leans down to kiss you, “Yeah well it was nice to hear you scream.” You snort at that as you roll your eyes, “You’re an idiot.” You whisper playfully in his ear, while you start to palm him through his boxers. His snarky comeback abruptly catches in his throat as he’s taken off guard by your fondling. You’re thoroughly enjoying how you’re making Diego squirm underneath your skilled touch. But you know too well he’ll take the reins in no time, and a few moments later he breaks from your heated kiss to lean back away from you. You’re about to protest at the sudden loss of contact, when he begins to pull your sweatpants down your legs. So that’s where we’re going, you think with a smirk. You lift your butt up to better help him get them off of you, and when they’re finally off he flings them across the room. “I’m gonna need to find those later.” You sass, he just smirks as he leans back into you to shut you up with a chaste kiss.

He ever so casually pulls your legs up to straddle you, tugging at your underwear while your lips are locked. You smile into the kiss, knowing exactly what he wants. “You’re in a compromising position..I can’t get them off from here.” You mumble into his lips, Diego reaches an arm out to grab something on the nightstand. You don’t care enough to pay any attention, that is, until a blade is lightly pressed against your hip, Diego cutting off your underwear. You laugh as he quickly rips them off of you, now forgotten somewhere on the floor. “That’s one way to do it.” You muse, while he sets the knife down, getting back to business which consists of taking off your shirt. You’re glad he doesn’t go to cut this one off considering Klaus bought it for you and it’s a favorite of yours.

He tugs it off the rest of the way, throwing it about the room elsewhere, his nimble finger immediately begin massaging your exposed breasts. You let out a pleased moan, that’s pure music to his hears. You grind your naked womanhood into Diego’s thin boxers turning him on even more, by now you’re soaked and about to lose it if Diego doesn’t start discarding his own clothes. To give him a not-so-subtle hint, you buck your bare hips up into his boxers, that are currently doing nothing helpful by trapping his obvious erection. He breaks from your heated embrace to lean his forehead against yours, “Alright, alright...I’m on it.” He chuckles at your neediness, as he finally pulls off his tight boxers. You bite your lip and hold in an excited moan when you see his cock springing out from its previous constraints. Diego then leans himself further down your body, starting to kiss up from your abdomen onto your stomach, between your heaving breasts and up to your neck. God he’s such a tease, always taking his good old time, revving you up with every second he’s not inside you. It’s almost torture.

At long last he makes it to your wanting lips, while you spread your legs apart even wider, granting him open access to what you’re absolutely craving. He holds himself up by his forearms as you reach out one hand to help guide his manhood into you. Once he reaches your slick entrance Diego knows exactly what to do next. You hold onto the sheets as he pushes himself fully into your core, filling you up to the brim. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to slowly thrust into you, his face hovers above yours, eyes closed in deep concentration at how he wants to move. He continues to pull in and out of you over and over again. Leaving you almost breathless each time, suddenly he begins to amp up the pace, much to your delight. Diego pounds into you with deep powerful thrusts that rock your whole body, you let out a moan as you dig your nails into his muscular back for better support. He kisses your shoulder while he pins you down to the mattress with his muscular body that’s rocking into you with gusto. The bed is shaking and the sweet sounds of sex are dissipating throughout the entire apartment. Diego’s heartbeat is thudding against his chest with each stroke, it’s a beautiful symphony in your ears that’s truly sending you places.

“Ah, fuck Y/N I’m getting close.” He grunts while continuing to pound into you. You can’t even fathom a coherent sentence with how he’s making you feel right now. Your pussy throbs with each thrust, the sensations pulling you towards your high. Without warning Diego hits your sweet spot sending you into a wave of pure pleasure, you don’t remember screaming out his name but the words leave your mouth anyways. Your walls tighten against his hard cock in reaction to your orgasm, further wetting the already messy bed sheets, he lets out a loud moan as he cums a few moments after you. Releasing his load into your hot sex all at once, he then gives in a couple more sloppy thrusts for good measure. Before slowly pulling out of you and falling onto the mattress to your left, your entrance is left dripping with some of his warm cum that runs off of you and onto the bed sheets. You ignore the fact that you’re gonna have to change the sheets before you leave later, while you turn to face a sweaty Diego. Who’s already looking at you with a dumbass smile on his stupid cute face. “I thoroughly enjoyed that, if I may add.” He tells you as he reaches out a hand to remove a strand of hair in your face that’s blocking you from properly seeing him. “I don’t remember but I might have screamed once or twice...my brain shuts off when you’re working your wonders.” He chuckles at your truthful comment, it’s not your fault he fucks up your thinking when he’s that deep inside you. Your mind no longer wants to function anymore. Diego’s dick game is that strong, but hell no would you ever fully admit that, his ego does not need anymore boosting.

For the next forty minutes the two of you just cuddle and talk about the most random and insignificant of things that come to mind. Until you look over at the time and decide you should probably get up, it’s still morning but you’ve got important Hargreeves family business to deal with at the Academy. Begrudgingly you pull away from Diego, kissing him before you stand up, walking naked over to your clothes. He props himself up on his elbow, watching you move in adoration. You force yourself to concentrate on putting on your clothes, ignoring Diego’s prying eyes with all your willpower. Once you’re done changing you turn around to face him, “Enjoying the view? Here put some clothes on we got shit to do today.” You quip while throwing him his boxers and some pants. He gets off of the bed, putting on his boxers while you go and find your boots.

“I can’t believe how much red was coming off of you in the shower last night.” Says Diego who’s now putting on a clean dark shirt. You purse your lips together, sitting on the edge of a chair, intently concentrating on tying up your boots. “It happens when you’re practically a human battering ram.” You deadpan, finishing the knot as you fold your arms looking up at Diego. He smirks at that, “Hey, so. What do you think about those crazy masked psychopaths last night? They really gave us a run for our money, huh?” He wonders, as he sits back down on the bed, sliding on his own boots, you get up and walk over to sit next to him. You hug your sides with a frown, “I have a strong suspicion that they have to do with Five. I’d just like to know where the hell he’s been off gallivanting to?”

“Good question. Guess we better head out, and figure out what the fuck is going on.” He stands up, reaching his hand out for you to take. In one swift motion he pulls you up, unintentionally slamming yourself right into his chest. “Jesus, Diego.” You huff, he just laughs holding your face gently, leaning down to kiss you. You give in, wrapping your hands around his muscular waist, pulling him in closer. He smiles into the kiss, reaching down to lightly squeeze your bum. You gasp at the sudden contact, he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue into your mouth, cheeky bastard. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t enjoying this. It’s the small sweet moments with him amongst the chaos that makes you fall for him deeper and deeper every day.

You pull back, his face following yours, he pouts as you smirk at him, “I’m truly debating if we should continue this...again, but we have a mystery to solve, Detective Diego-black-is-my-favorite-color-Hargreeves.” He chuckles at your teasing comment, pecking you on the lips once again. “Okay. Fine. Let’s go see what my idiot family has got in store for us today.” He whines, breaking away from your touch to find his knife belt slash vest type thing. You walk over towards the door, putting on your jacket as you wait for him to get ready.

——

The both of you walk into the Academy, you stopping dead in your tracks to listen closely for movement. Diego walks right into you, “What the...” you shush him, “I’m trying to find Luther, shut up.” He keeps his mouth shut long enough for you to hear the sounds of Luther rummaging around upstairs in Five’s room. “Gotcha.” You smirk, grabbing Diego’s hand as you pull him up the wooden stairs.

The two of you start walking down the hallway, you in the lead, “He’s in Five’s room. With Pogo.” You add, continuing down the dimly lit hallway that you were getting shot in just yesterday. You let Diego take the lead, as he walks into Five’s room first, you right next to him. “What are you doing here?” Demands Diego, Pogo and Luther turning in surprise by your random appearance. Luther looks like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t be, he slowly rises from looking into Five’s drawers, “Uh. Do you guys know about Mom?” He questions, fixating the conversation away from his current situation.

Diego glances down for a moment, “Well, it looks like you got what you wanted, one way or another, right?” He sasses, fed up with Luther always seeming to get what he wants.

“Wanna tell me what you’re both doing here?” Luther asks, redirecting the subject once again. “Looking for Five.” You answer, while leaning your back against the wardrobe. He shifts his gaze to you, “Let me guess, Diego’s gonna save the day.” He grumbles. “It’s what we do. Asshole.” Diego snaps, before you have a chance to clap back at Luther.

“Really? Last I checked, you mopped floors. And Y/N teaches people how to box. At least she’s got that going for her.” He remarks, you scowl in annoyance. Diego snapping around to challenge him, “And what do you do? Sit on the moon....for four years, waiting for orders?” Pogo suddenly speaks up, trying his best to stop something bad from happening, “Boys. This won’t help us find Five.”

Diego ignores him, stepping closer to Luther, “Keep on being a loyal soldier after everything our father did to you.”

“What? You mean save my life?” Luther says, matter-of-factly, a flash of aggravation creeping into his eyes. God here we go.

Diego leans against the side of the wardrobe, a foot or two away from your right shoulder. “No, I mean.....turn you into a monster.” He says honestly, pushing Luther’s buttons, as he looks up defiantly at his larger brother. “Diego.” You hiss at him, a second later Luther punches a hole through the wood, inches from both of your faces. You don’t even flinch, “Nice one.” You mutter, walking around the two of them, as they continue their little matcho stare down.

“Can’t hide it anymore, champ.” Diego tells him, unflinching from Luther’s brief act of aggression. “He had a difficult decision to make, and he made it.” Luther argues back while pulling his fist out of the broken wardrobe door.

Diego shakes his head, “Grow up, Luther. We’re not 13 anymore.” You stand by Pogo rolling your eyes, they’re like actual children.

“That’s what leaders do, by the way.”

“He sent you on that mission all alone. Almost got you killed.” Diego persists, egging on a frustrated Luther further. “Yeah, well at least he was there. Where were you? You and everyone else in this family? Y/N included. You walked out.”

“And thank Christ that we did, or I would have ended up just, like, you.” Jabs Diego, pointing his glove covered finger at Luther, “Let me ask you a question. When you watch one of those nature shows..” You make a disgusted face, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.

“Please don’t.” You groan.

“Does it turn you on?” Diego finishes, trying to get a real reaction from Luther. “So what? Is he just an animal to you, too now, Diego, huh?” Luther accuses, pointing to Pogo, the tension in the room at an all time high.

“Enough!” Shouts Pogo, offended and defeated with how these two have been acting. You decide now’s a good time as ever to lay into them about it.

“Seriously? The Academy was attacked, I was shot multiple times and the rest of you are lucky to still be alive. Grace sadly wasn’t. Not to mention, Five is still MIA, and this is the shit I gotta deal with right now.” You cross your arms in irritation, “You’re both acting like angry little 6 year olds. Take it elsewhere.....Now.” You growl, sick of how both of them have been so moody towards each other. Pogo gives you a slight nod of approval, grateful that at least someone here as any sense.

Luther and Diego go silent, the two of them looking anywhere but your harsh gaze. The both of them embarrassed and annoyed at one another for taking it too far. “Sorry Y/N n’ Pogo.” They both mumble, avoiding eye contact with the two of you. They promptly exit Five’s room, Diego knowing you’re too pissed to have a conversation with right now.

You listen as they disperse down the hallway, “What is wrong with those two? Honestly.” You wonder shaking your head at Pogo. He shrugs, equally as befuddled. “Well, thank you anyways, they needed a stern talking to.” He smiles at you. “Problem is, I need them if I want to find Five. Well....technically I could do it on my own but...uh....that would not sit well with Diego.” You add, saying goodbye to Pogo as you walk out the door in search of those two idiots.

All you have to do is follow their scent down the hallway and then down the stairs to the front room. “So, are you two ready to play nice.” You retort while walking down the wooden staircase. Diego following your every move, “I guess, we can manage.” He mutters, pursing his lips together. You grin at the two of them, “Good. Let’s go find Five.”

——

The three of you walk down the street, towards the last place Luther had seen the stolen van Five was hiding out in. And there it is, parked nonchalantly in front of some hospital. “This is it. He’s still here. This is Five’s Van. Go. Go.” Rambles Luther, ushering you both towards the vehicle, as he makes a sad attempt at opening the locked door. Diego stepping up, by taking out a dagger and lock picking the door with ease. You stand behind them and watch in amusement as Diego opens the door, only for them to both move to get in at the same time. Luther announcing that he’s Number One so therefore he gets a free pass to get in first, Diego turns around to give you a look. You just shrug.

Diego and you jump into the back, scouring the small area for any clues as to Five’s whereabouts. Diego finding Vanya’s book with a ton of notes written in it, including where the book actually came from. The Argyle Public Library. “I know where to find Five.” Diego announces to the two of you.

“When was the last time you were in a public library? Oh right, since never.” You tell Diego bluntly, bursting out with a loud laugh at the end. Luther giving a small snort from his spot in the front seat, Diego just glares at you, mouthing a silent, “I’ll get you for this.” With the least menacing face you’ve ever seen.

——

Making your way into the giant public city library, you stand in front of Diego and Luther, as you take in your surroundings. “Let’s split up.” States Luther. “Wow. Good thinking.” Retorts Diego sarcastically. You chuckle lightly at their brotherly banter. “Yell if you get lost. Or don’t, I don’t care either way.” You mumble sarcastically, turning left to walk up the stairs, Diego following you. Luther taking the right staircase, helping to cover more ground.

You and Diego search the first floor, then the second, and finally you make it to the top. Meeting back up with Luther, who looks as puzzled at you two. “Anything?” He wonders, lost as to where Five could be. “No.” You and Diego reply bluntly. “Y/N, can’t you just hear him....or sniff him out.....like a bloodhound.” He carefully asks you. Sighing you go to answer, “To many people in one area. It’s already loud in here, as it is. Not to mention full of many, less then wonderful scents floating around.” You tell him, while leaning against a nearby cement wall. Diego holds onto the balcony railing, watching people go about their business. You turn to Luther with a shrug as you turn around to carry on your search for Five. Luther nods to you, turning around in the opposite direction in search of Five as well. You stroll down a new isle of bookshelves, deciding to try and concentrate on hyper focusing your hearing and sense of smell. Maybe that will help you find him quicker.

“You wanna know why I left?” Diego starts, choosing now as a good time to explain things to his brother, while you’re off wandering around for his other one.

Luther stops walking, turning himself around to face Diego, “What? What are you talking about?” He scrunches his face up clearly befuddled, Diego continues, “Why I left the Academy.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you couldn’t handle me being Number One.” Luther says, walking closer to Diego, who’s now leaning his back against the balcony.

“No. Because that’s what you do when you’re 17....and in love. And she’s way more appealing then anyone else.....So you move out, become your own person, grow up.” Diego explains, finally revealing his true motives for abandoning the hero lifestyle with the Umbrella Academy.

“Yeah, you’re a real grown-up.” Replies Luther dryly.

“At least I make my own decisions. You’ve never had to hold down a job. Pay bills.” Diego pauses for a moment thinking of something that would make Luther tick, “You ever even been with a girl?” He questions smiling, Luther snapping his head up at Diego at that alarming personal question. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about..”

“Look, you wanna blame me, blame us for leaving first...and then the others...that’s okay. But maybe you’re asking yourself the wrong question. Maybe it’s not about why we left.” Diego pauses for a second letting the words sink into Luther, “Maybe it’s about why you stayed.” Luther’s brows furrow in frustration as he walks closer to Diego, “I stayed because the world needed me.” Diego shakes his head, “You stayed because you couldn’t let go of the way things used to be. The Academy. Dad. With Allison......Dad’s dead. Mom too, now. We’re orphans again, dude.” He walks away from the balcony, turning around to face Luther, “And things are never gonna go back to the way they used to....be.”

“Do you ever stop talking.” Luther cuts in, done with this brotherly therapy session. But before Diego has time to reply you burst into the open area, out from the hallway. They turn to you quickly, “I found him.” You give them a knowing smile, they follow you down the hall in collective confusion.

“Is he, um..?” Ponders Luther, not completely believing you just found Five drunk in a public library holding half a mannequin, an empty beer bottle, and laying among books and writings scribbled on the cement wall behind him.

“Drunk as a skunk.” Replies Diego smiling in amusement at Five’s current state of being.

“Yeah.” You whisper, walking over to pick him up.

——

You’re not certain what the actual time is, but by now it’s dark out, your favorite time of the day. The night air is cool and misty, and the city lights illuminate off of the dark blacktop of the alleyway. The one you’re currently walking down, along with Diego who’s to your upper left. And Luther who’s in between you and Diego, begrudgingly trailing along as he carries a conscious but drunk Five in his muscular arms.

“Well, we can’t go back to the house. It’s not secure. Those psychopaths could be back at any moment.” Worries Luther, still holding Five.

“Our place is closer. No one will look for him there” You add, referring to yours and Diego’s apartment.

Five burps loudly, Luther giving him a warning look, “If you vomit on me..”

“You what’s funny? Aah! I’m going through puberty.” He scoffs, “Huh. Twice. And I...I drank that whole bottle, didn’t I ? That’s what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof, it’s gone.....What are you guys talkin’ about?” Five wonders.

“Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night.” Answers Luther.

“They came looking for you. So I need you to focus. What do they want?” Demands Diego, fed up with all the crap you and him had to deal with last night.

“Hazel and Cha-Cha.” States Five tiredly. Diego turning quickly to look at him. “Who?”

“You know, I hate code names.” Whines Luther.

“Ah, the best of the best. Except for me of course.” Chuckles Five, letting out a single hiccup.

“Let me guess, assassins?” You ask him, pretty darn certain you’re right. “Wow, Y/N. Someone pays attention to details.” Applauds Five, starting to ramble on about how Dolores doesn’t like it when he drinks. Diego having enough of his shenanigans whips around to face him, “Hey! I need you to focus. What do this Hazel and Cha-Cha want?”

Five gives Diego the goofiest grin you’ve ever seen as Diego continues to try and reason with him, “We just wanna protect you.”

“Protect me. I don’t need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed?” States Five, Diego answering with a quiet no, glancing to you for a second. “I’m the Four frickin’ Horsemen. The apocalypse is coming.” He blurts out, right before turning his head over Luther’s muscular arm, and vomiting on the wet pavement.

“Lovely.” You groan in disgust, Diego and Luther looking away from the scene, equally as grossed out.

——

Finally inside your boiler room apartment, you set Dolores down by the coatrack. Diego standing next to you, as Luther gently lays a mumbling Five onto the bed. “Uh...hmm...they probably had sex here.....gross.” Mutters Five as he falls asleep almost instantly, Luther holds in a laugh the best he can, as not to wake him. You stand up snickering at Five’s subconscious comment about your place. Diego gives you an odd look, blissfully clueless as to what Five just whispered a second ago. Right, Diego can’t hear nearly as well as you can.

“Five just said it was gross that he’s sleeping on our bed, cause we probably fucked there.” You explain, holding in laughter the whole time. Diego’s eyes go wide for a moment, before something else flashes inside them. “And we most definitely did, this morning in fact.” He says lowly in your ear, sending chills down your spine. You look up at him, staring deeply into his chocolate eyes. “That makes it even worse.” You deadpan, “But we’re not telling him that.” You finish, giving him a quick peck on the lips, before turning towards Luther, who’s watching Five.

“Funny. If I didn’t know he was such a prick, I’d say he looks almost adorable in his sleep.” Whispers Diego, gazing down at Five’s oddly peaceful form.

“Well, don’t worry. He’ll sober up eventually. Be back to his normal, unpleasant self.” Says Luther, dreading when that moment may be.

“We can’t wait that long.” You mutter, thinking about how he’s involved with these crazy assassins.

“Exactly, I need to find out what his connection is with these lunatics before someone else dies.” Adds Diego, in sync with what’s on your mind.

“All that stuff he was saying before...What do you think he meant by that?” Wonders Luther, you suddenly hear footsteps approaching.

“Someone’s coming.” You quietly blurt out, Diego turns to you before moving into action. He takes out a knife as he swiftly walks up to the door, giving the two of you a nod, he turns the handle, holding up his knife. “You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I’m pressin’ charges.......Or even betta’ I’ll have Y/N take that knife and put it where the sun don’t shine on ya.” Grumbles Al, the boxing gym’s owner.

“What do you want, Al?” Asks Diego, less then enthusiastically, letting the old grump into the apartment. “I ain’t your guys’ secretary. Some lady called for you two, said she needs your help.”

“What lady?” Probes Diego, lost as to who Al could be referring to.

“I dunno. Some, uh, detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or somethin’.” Rambles Al.

“Patch?”

“Uh, Yeah. She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun. About a half hour ago.” He says, reading it off a piece of paper.

You share a startled look with Diego, “Oh shit, Patch.” You whisper.

“Uh, oh and something else. She said she found your brother.” Al tells you, turning around and promptly exiting your apartment.

You share another worried look with Diego, “Well, that didn’t make sense.” He says, thinking for a moment.

Suddenly the three of you get a look of realization, “Klaus.” You and Diego then book it out the door.

——

You smell the metallic scent of blood, radiating from a nearby open motel door. A few rooms down from where you and Diego are standing. You push forward, not sensing any signs of life, as you walk up to the open door. You look inside to find, your friend Eudora laying dead on the carpeted floor. A bullet wound in the center of her chest, you race over to her, kneeling down next to her body as Diego does the same.

“Shit. Why didn’t she wait for us.” You whisper yell, angry and in shock that this happened. Diego gently lifts her face up, stunned that his longtime friend is laying lifeless before him. “It had to have been those masked fuckers.” He hisses, upset that neither of you could have been here to prevent this.

“Goddammit, those fucking bastards.” You scream pounding on the floor in frustration. A moment later you hear the call of police sirens in the distance. Never a moment of peace. Taking in a shaky breath you reach out to touch Diego’s arm, “Police. We gotta go.” He looks up at you sadly, giving a gloomy nod, the both of you stand up and make a swift escape out the door and out of sight.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #what a time to be alive fic #falcor the luck dragon stories #number two

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

The ghost of romance past

Part one // Part two

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: It was kinda requested but also I needed to write it. Don’t worry, the relationship isn’t in the past, it’s just written from your perspective looking back on the time you and Spike finally get together

Warning: Set in LA, not central to the story. Reader gets injured. Like one swear. Bit of fighting.

A/N: Had a real blast writing these parts, hope you enjoy the final instalment !! The time jumps are very erratic throughout the three parts, but I’m pretty sure it makes sense (pls tell me if it doesn’t) 💜

The prophetic dream you had about your possible romance with spike was years ago and you were amazed at how different your life was now. You and Spike had found each other through a lot of what Sunnydale, and now LA, had thrown at you. Somehow, you always managed to find each other. You loved him with every fibre of your being and you knew he felt exactly the same. Not just because he told you this constantly.

You were now lying in bed beside Spike in your shared apartment. Spike was lying on his front, his arms hugging the pillow he was lying on. His head comfortably resting in the position. You had woken only moments before and had a hand on the cold skin of his back. You started to rub his back softly – tracing along his pale skin. Hoping he would feel it in his dreams.

His eyes were closed and he was completely still – he didn’t breathe when he was sleeping and it sometimes worried you for a split second before you reminded yourself that he never needed to breath.

You started to remember the way you had pined longingly for this kind of relationship with Spike. You had been addicted to his love long before you had even received the full extent of it. You had wanted to have all of him. To hold him against you and tell him how much you loved him. You still remember the dull pang of want that coursed through you every time you saw him. In public. In private. In your dreams. You could never escape him, and you never wanted to. You wanted more.

You smiled at the feeling now, but you had ached for him at the time. You continued to watch him as you lay on your side, slowly tracing your hand back along the length of his back. Lost in your thoughts of him. It was always him.

“You’re staring, love” his voice cutting through the misty nostalgia of how it had been before you had admitted your feelings to each other.

“I’m not! I was waking up and you were in my line of sight”

“Y’know it’s usually the dark and highly attractive monster doin’ the staring” He offered, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep. His eyes were still closed as he spoke, he was still trying to wake up properly. He took your silence as an invitation to continue his own conversation, “Alright, pet, whatever it is that makes you sleep at night”

“I don’t sleep at night. I sleep with you, in the day”

“Oh give over with your accusin’ and your eyebrow raisin’ – you love me” he smouldered. When he opened one eye to check your expression and smirked into the kiss that you landed on his lips.

“Yeah. I really do” You confirmed when your lips left his.

After a few more kisses of encouragement, he managed to wake himself up a little. His stomach gurgled and he decided he should get up properly. “Usual, love?” he offered and you grinned and nodded. Spike treated you very well. You never questioned his intent or the way that he cared for you. It was the little things sometimes, like making your favourite hot drink while he warmed his blood and bringing it to you so you could share your warm drinks and talk before you had to think about getting ready and going to help Angel with whatever it was that was going on now.

Your mind cast back once more to the way things had been for you both in Sunnydale, the way you had used to trade insults and occasionally threats. You would never change how things were now. Spike had improved your life in a way that you could only have dreamed.

Spike pulled the sheet before sliding off the bed and started to move towards the door. He didn’t bother to put any clothes on, much to your continued delight since he had become corporeal again and you had moved in together. You had found a cosy apartment with glass that allowed him to feel the sun now you lived in LA. You were staring at his body, one you had enjoyed being able to hold to you. Touch so intimately. Your mind kept casting back to the days and long nights you spent longing for him to be sharing a bed with you. Kissing your lips or just laying beside you. You now woke up to the image you had hung on to so hopelessly.

Spike turned back once he got to the doorway, squinted at you as he couldn’t quite read your look. He just smirked and winked, expecting that you were enjoying the view. Which of course, you were. But before you could focus on enjoying your relationship, your mind was on the past once more.

You blinked and you were back. You knew it as soon as you looked around your old bedroom in Sunnydale. One that had long since gone. Crumbled into nothing with the rest of the town you had once called home.

You took your jacket, pulled it on and walked straight to the Bronze. You remember this time of your life. You and Spike had still been skirting around your feelings and relied on ‘meeting by chance’ at the Bronze or in cemeteries. You were friends, of sorts, until the next time he upset one of your friends - which you were still half-expecting during this time in your life.

You were now staring into your cup, you had been here for hours. It had been a task shrugging the many unwanted advances throughout the night. Because they weren’t him. None of them could ever be him. He ignited something inside of you. He drew you in and captivated your every thought. Your every emotion. You missed him when you didn’t dream of him and not seeing him here made it worse.

You had desperately hoped to see him there but he never showed. You eventually left, walking yourself home alone. It was dark, but this didn’t phase you. You were used to patrolling with Buffy - making sure she wasn’t out by herself so often. You did worry about her. A chill started to run through your entire body, the hairs starting to raise on your neck. You weren’t alone here. You wrapped your jacket around you tighter, took your stake out and carried on walking. Suddenly you were grabbed from behind, your heartrate sped up. Your adrenaline pumping. Someone was hauling you backwards towards an alleyway. Someone was pressing their hand over your mouth to try and stop your scream. But you didn’t scream. You bit down. Hard.

“Ow! Bloody hell! That’s a damned cheek – biting the vamp that can’t bite. Bloody inconsiderate b-” he started, trying to lower his voice as he remembered why he had done it in the first place. He gestured for you to move into the alley a little more, concealing both of you from any onlookers.

“You grabbed me like some kind of serial killer!” You hissed back, “What was I supposed to do just wait for you to kill me?!” raising your voice at the end. He moved in to cover your mouth again but you raised your eyebrows and pointed a warning that he better not step towards you and do that again. He surrendered, rolled his eyes before launching into an explanation.

“Just – there’s something down there and I wanted to make sure you weren’t walkin’ in unawares”

“And you wanted someone to hide behind while I investigate?” You teased. He rolled his eyes and looked as if he wanted to say something but instead just gestured for you to follow him towards the fight. You both stopped abruptly as you arrived on the scene of the chaos.

“See?” He asked, glancing to you and then having to do a double take when he realised you hadn’t even noticed the threat yet. You had only been looking at him. You managed to pry your eyes away for a moment to see that it was some kind of giant (not the big, friendly kind either). At least double your height and width. Maybe triple. His skin was grey and almost translucent. You could smell his terrible breath from where you were stood and he was now hollering at the top of his lungs. He had a large club that he was already swinging around in anticipation of a fight.

You and Spike both looked at each other and nodded. You would have to handle this before he started to rampage towards the Bronze - which appeared to be where he was heading. You fought hard, half hoping that Buffy might swing by and finish it off. But alas, she was dealing with her own vampire problem on the other side of Sunnydale. You hated it when there was more than one monster of the week, your group got stretched a little thin.

You were trying to help in your limited-to-human-strength way. You got some punches in and even a hard stare that you swore made the giant shiver. Or maybe quiver with range. He wasn’t much of a talker, so you weren’t sure which.

Spike immediately and continuously not only defended himself but you as well. He tried to keep the Giant’s attention on him by hurling insults as well as punches. He had put himself in harms way for you.

“Spike!” You screamed, “Behind you! Duck!” you pointed as Spike had been distracted by the giant lunging towards you but swinging his club at Spike from behind. He heard you, acting on your words. Trusting you on instinct.

Spike then swung at the beast but it threw him into you. Knocking you both down like skittles. Spike had been thrown so forcefully into you that you hadn’t had time to react. You had been sent crashing to the ground with your arm twisting wrong and connecting to the hard tarmac with an audible cracking sound. You hissed in pain, twisting out of the uncomfortable position but not being able to continue the fight.

This fuelled Spike’s anger, sending him into a frenzy. You sat on the floor, watching as Spike managed to hit the giant in the soft part of his skull on the back of his head - leaving him crashing to the ground. Rather than checking he had won - he turned straight back to you and ran towards you. he crouched beside you, his worry painted across his face.

“Shit, love. I’m so sorry – I didn’t- are you-?” Everything was running through his head at lightning speed. If he had just punched here or ducked there before spinning into that kick – maybe this wouldn’t have happened. He was already blaming himself and replaying the sickening crunch over in his mind until it almost knocked him sick. You hissed as you tried to move your hand and his eyes widened, “Is it broken? Is there a-anything that I can do?”

“Can you take me to the hospital?” He nodded and moved to support you. He then started to pick you up without making a sound. You opened your mouth – starting to say that you had hurt your wrist and that you could still walk. But you decided to keep your mouth shut. He hoisted you up so that you were sideways. One arm wrapped around your back and the other supporting your thighs. He had to balance you himself as you were cradling your arm rather than holding onto him.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the pain and only focus on this moment. His strong hold was so comforting. You felt so safe in his presence. You inhaled, your nose filled with that familiar scent. It caressed you, comforted you. It reminded you of the dream. The safety and love you ached for. You wanted him close like this all of the time. You nestled into his chest, closing your eyes. You didn’t know if you would get a chance to feel this without being asleep again.

He closed his eyes briefly, savouring having you so close. Every so often he looked down at you as if he were enamoured by your very presence, this mingling with his growing concern for your arm. It physically hurt that he couldn’t offer you more comfort that he was currently giving you. He knew he didn’t need to carry you - he just wanted the excuse to hold you against him.

You had a fractured wrist and he was surprisingly sympathetic - even threatened a few doctors to ensure you had the best care. He walked you back home after the emergency room, shoving as many blood bags into his inside pocket as would fit. You didn’t once acknowledge how much either of you appreciated the others help. You were both concerned if you said it aloud that the other would insist it wasn’t even intentional. That they didn’t care. So you clung to the hope that it was out of concern.

You both kept glancing at the other Spike was the first to speak. He couldn’t stand it – the silence. The constant not knowing where he stood. He had to say something, a thought he had been having the entire walk.

“You… glow” He said, ever so softly. You weren’t sure your ears had heard correctly so you stopped walking, staring at him in confusion, “Uh, under the moonlight. You glow” He elaborated as your expression softened. You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t want to comment in case you had dreamt it. Wished too hard and started to hear things. You smiled softly instead and that was all he needed. He was adamant that he was going to prove to you he could be boyfriend material. Little did he know you already selected the fabric in his exact make and size. Willing the material to fit. And it would, like a glove.

He walked up to your apartment block with you, starting to light up. He would watch until he saw your light on and feel satisfied that you were safe. No zombie janitors or killer neighbours waiting on the stairwell. You turned, still cradling your arm as you opened your mouth to start to thank him, but he spoke first, “You gonna be okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. But I’d probably feel better with a bit of company…” You hinted as his face lit up. He had been longing for something like this, something to tell him that his feelings weren’t one-sided. That these constant dreams weren’t filling his head with a reality that would never be there. He had craved for you in all hours of the day and night. Losing sleep over how good you felt. How love could be and how much he needed it to be with you. Just you. “Would you like to come in?”

He nodded. Looking around to check it wasn’t some kind of trap with your younger friends waiting to point at laugh at him for agreeing. there appeared to be no Scoobies in sight so he shrugged, throwing his cigarette and following you up into your apartment block. He kept you company until it was time for him to leave before the sun rose. He looked as if he didn’t want to go, but he had to. He opened his mouth to say something, anything but the words wouldn’t come.

That night your dreams had been so vivid. Kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other. The gentle caress expressing feelings you longed to say out loud. In your waking moments. But you were scared. Both of you were terrified that if anything was said it would ruin the strange friendship you had created. To have the other in your life even fleetingly was better than not having them there at all through the heart breaking rejection that neither of you would ever recover from.

Unbeknownst to you both, you had shared this dream. Shared the bittersweet embrace as if it were the closest you would ever come to expressing your love for the other. Shared the affirmations of love. The crumbling disappointment once you both woke up and realised that once again, you were faced with a much harsher reality.

Your mind then forwarded to the moment everything was cemented in your mind. A moment so imprinted into your mind you needn’t relive it this way. You could retell it by heart.

You were in your kitchen, with Spike standing opposite you by counter. He smiled at you and you smiled back over your shoulder as you grabbed some things from your fridge. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the look he had given you when you invited him in. The way he had been so unassuming, so amazed that you would invite him in. Hadn’t expected it. His face brightened, although not changing any of the concern he had.

He had been visiting to check on you almost every evening after dark – never asking to come in, but always smirking and sauntering in as if he had used some vampire hustle to get himself an invite. When all he had done was be kind (and be the man of your dreams. Literally).

You spent a lot of time alone together. Catching his long, penetrating gaze. The ache never dulling now, not even when you were in each other’s company. You wanted to press your lips against his like in your dream. You wanted to feel his arms wrap around you they way they had that night. You wanted to say something, but the words had never surfaced.

He had insisted on doing things for you. Opening doors for you. Making you warm drinks. Finding you the best shows to watch together on tv. He was slowly proving to you in his eyes that he could be trusted. That he could even play nice with the Scoobies if you wanted him to.

You were still in your kitchen, your wrist had finally healed but Spike was still coming around and spending almost every evening with you regularly. You had been eagerly awaiting his arrival tonight. he no longer asked, just came in - he had a key now so why should he have to knock? You had taken two bottles of water out of your fridge and set them on the counter. You were going to take them with you on patrol. He didn’t necessarily need one, but that’s another thing he liked about you - you always had the courtesy to offer. So he always said yes.

Both reached for the same bottle of water at the same time. Your fingers brushed against each other. A spark. A sizzling thrum of electricity surging through you both. And you became overcome with it. You were his fully and unconditionally. And something in his eye told you he was thinking the same thing.

Time stopped. Both in the dream and waking world, that minute leading up to your first kiss would be owned by you forever. It was yours and Spike’s to claim. You had leaned in, your eyes confirming that this was all you wanted. All you ever wanted. Your intentions reflecting in his own eyes. He had never been so sure of anything in all of the decades he had been around. All he had ever wanted to surrender to was you.

Your lips met and everything connected into place. The kiss was the same you had experienced in the dream but magnified by a hundred. It wasn’t tentative or timid. It was an explosion. It had been building up for so long. A rollercoaster finally reaching its peak. The passion that had been threatening to spill during every interaction now igniting the room.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much” He couldn’t help himself. He was drunk on you. He You pulled him closer, your lips replying with every movement. Neither of you had ever been more sure of anything and this was expressed as he pressed you against your kitchen counter. You were tongues and teeth. Desperate clinging to skin and hair. Removing clothes and hushed whispers. You began to explore each other’s bodies in what was now a well-travelled but ultimately exciting adventure every time.

You shook yourself out of your memories as Spike handed you the steaming mug. It was made exactly the way you liked it. You hugged your hands around it, clinging to the warmth as he stared at you a little to long. He sensed there was something on your mind. He waited, knowing you would talk about it eventually as he sat back, resting against the headboard and taking a large gulp of his blood. He pulled a face after he swallowed, he had gone overboard on the burbaweed again and it tasted a little too spicy. He then shrugged and took another gulp. No use wasting good blood. You moved up, bringing the covers up over you with one hand and balancing your mug as you moved to lean into Spike’s side.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

“’Course. Like a dream” he smiled, not revealing how true this really was. Neither of you had spoke about the intense and very real feeling dreams you had both experienced long since you had professed your feelings.

“It was a dream. I felt it before it happened” You said, frowning a little in thought. He had always found this expression cute on you, but this revelation meant it passed without comment.

“You- did you have the dreams too?” He asked, setting his cup down and turning to you. You nodded and he moved to wrap his arms around you further as you both thought over what this could mean. He kissed the top of your head from the position you were now curled into his side. You had both been in deep thought for a while until he spoke again.

“Suppose we should thank the Powers? Do a bit of saving the world?”

“Maybe later” You smiled, setting your cup down and reaching for his face. You landed an open-mouthed kiss, the softest you could muster. The meaning wasn’t lost on him, he wanted to savour every moment with you. Like it was your last.

He rolled over, so that he was now above you. He had started to kiss you so gently, feather-light brushes of his lips down your jaw and along your collarbone. he held you so tenderly, whispering his love repeatedly and punctuating it every time with a kiss. You slid your hands up his chest, one resting on his shoulder warmly as he continued to fill you up with his love. You had plans of ensuring the other felt everything they had longed for in those bleak, solitary periods after you both woke up. The lonely moments were no more. It may take at least the rest of the night at least. Saving the world would have to wait another 24 hours. this time was reserved for the two of you.

The world could wait, as could the Powers. This was a love for all of the ages.

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 3 years

Note

Hi💛 I've suddenly found your blog and I'm in love with its adorableness. I hope you're okay with me sending a prompt. I just need more fluff with Todoroki siblings: Shoto being too lazy on the weekend at his siblings' house and refusing to get up, so they try to get him out the bed to start a new day (Natsuo never stops teasing him about his relationship with Izuku)

Gahhh thank you so much - that really warms my heart! Yessss, I love this prompt so much! :O I think after all the drama recently, these poor kids deserve a break! Hope you enjoy 💛

Shoto looked around him, taking in his surroundings. He was in class. Present Mic Sensei had his back to him, writing the lyrics to some corny English song on the blackboard, while Kaminari sung them out loud with surprising accuracy.

'We're no strangers to love~'

Shoto turned to look at Momo, ready to ask her just what the hell was happening, but instead of his friend, he found a giant teddy bear with long black hair in her place. Shoto’s eyes widened with shock when the bear turned to meet his gaze, nodding to him before focusing back on the lesson.

Okay then… He thought to himself and tried another tactic.

He suddenly stood up from his seat and wandered over to Izuku’s desk, because apparently that was allowed. Even if it did matter though, their teacher didn’t seem to notice, too busy engaging in a dance competition with Ashido, while Kaminari continued to sing. Somehow, Jirou had managed to procure a keyboard and was playing a familiar tune that Shoto couldn’t quite recognise.

Ignoring the odd display, he approached his boyfriend’s desk to find him muttering to himself. Shoto welcomed the small semblance of normalcy.

‘Izuku.’ He began. ‘What’s going on-?’

He stopped abruptly when Izuku turned to face him. Instead of rosy cheeks adorned in freckles and wide emerald eyes, Shoto came face-to-face with a full head of broccoli. He took a moment to fully comprehend what was going on.

Breathe, Shoto. It’s okay. Your boyfriend is a broccoli. It’s fine. It’s going to be alright.

Shoto bent down to inspect the vegetable love of his life. ‘Izuku! Izuku, are you okay? What happened? Was it a quirk? Can you breathe?’

A large hole suddenly opened from where Shoto assumed Izuku’s mouth was. He held his breath with anticipation.

‘According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a bee should be able to fly.’

Shoto blinked dumbly.

‘What the fuck-’

‘Wake uuuuuuup!’

Shoto shot up out of bed, breathing heavily as he adjusted to the light of his room. The curtains had been opened, allowing the morning sun to flood in. He winced at the brightness before he noticed Natsuo, stood next to the window with a knowing smirk plastered to his face. Shoto grumbled something unintelligible and collapsed back onto his futon, pulling at the covers to hide his face.

He heard an amused snort. ‘Wakey wakey, Shotouto!’

‘Fuck off.’ Shoto retorted, face buried in his pillow. ‘It’s Sunday.’

‘Now now, that’s no way to talk to your oniisan.’ Natsuo tutted playfully as footsteps approached. Shoto remained silent, hoping his brother would take the hint and piss off, but no such luck. ‘Neechan told me to wake you up nicely, but I see now that you have forced my hand.’

Before Shoto could ask what he even meant by that, suddenly a huge weight collapsed on top of him and Shoto let out a noise he didn’t know he was capable of making. He flailed around under the covers, trying and failing to kick his brother off of him but to no avail.

‘Natsuo, get the fuck off me!’ He got up on all fours, carrying Natsuo on his back, before he rolled onto his side and the two of them went flying.

‘Yaaaaaghhhhh!’

Shoto landed on the tatami floors, his bed sheets wrapped around him and Natsuo’s leg draped over his head. Scrunching up his face in distaste, he shoved the prickly leg away with his right hand and smirked sadistically when his brother yelped in response. If Natsuo’s leg now had a patch of frost coating it, then that was his secret.

‘Neechan!’ Shoto yelled out, voice feigning innocence. ‘Natsuo-nii is being mean to me!’

‘He’s lying!’ Natsuo quickly shot back, picking Shoto up and lifting him above his head before he could even react. Shoto blamed his slow reflexes on his tiredness.

‘Put me down, dickhead!’ He tried to punch at his brother’s arms but the angle made it extremely difficult. Cackling maniacally, Natsuo spun them around in circles. ‘Stoooop!!!’

‘Who’s this Izuku you were talking about in your sleep, Shotouto?’ He asked instead, causing Shoto to still; he stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes and felt his cheeks burn.

‘None of your business.’ He bit back, but that just proved to further fuel his brother’s curiosity.

‘I dunno, seemed pretty serious to me.’ Shoto could practically hear the grin in Natsuo’s voice, before he abruptly stopped spinning them around. His brother let out a delighted gasp that Shoto did not like in the slightest. ‘Wait a minute, Izuku… You were dreaming about that Midoriya-kun you brought around a few weeks ago?!’

Shoto said nothing, not trusting his voice.

Natsuo chortled. ‘Oh my god, you were! Oh, Neechan is going to love this-’

His brother’s words were cut off the moment Shoto grabbed onto his forearm, sending a wave of ice down Natsuo’s body until he was fully encased, with only his eyes and nose exposed. Shoto turned his head and looked down at his brother, fully enjoying the irritated noises he was making.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Natsuo-nii. Did you say something? I can’t quite hear you.’

His brother let out a muffled yell, scowling at him. However, it didn’t last long. Before the situation could escalate further, the door to Shoto’s room suddenly slid open and Fuyumi entered, hands on her hips and a look of resignation on her face.

‘Oh, Natsuo’s being mean to you, eh?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really seems like it.’

‘Neechan-’

‘Don’t want to hear it. De-ice your Niichan or no soba for you.’

‘Soba?’

One word, one simple word and Shoto leaped off of his brother and pressed his left hand to his icy chest, promptly melting him. When he was liberated, Natsuo shivered violently and shoved him back.

‘Someone’s sensitive this morning.’ He grumbled, shaking his damp hair in Shoto’s general direction. However, before he could get drenched, Shoto quickly jumped out of its trajectory and bolted for the kitchen, leaving Natsuo and Fuyumi to stare at each other, bewildered.

He ran down the hallway when he suddenly heard Fuyumi speak. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head.

‘Come on Natsuo, pay up.’

‘Fuyumiiiii!’

‘Come on, you sabotaged yourself there.’ His sister retorted. ‘Of course, he likes Midoriya-kun. I called it. Now give me my 4000 Yen!’

Heat pooled to Shoto’s face, turning him bright red. Unable to control it, his left side suddenly burst into flames, destroying his pajamas and singing the walls.

‘I am a poor university student, Neechan! This is robbery- Wait...’ Natsuo suddenly sniffed the air. ‘Do I smell smoke?’

Fuck.

❄🔥❄

Shoto sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He was curious about his dream from before. However, after initially searching “What happens if your boyfriend turns into a vegetable” and finding several dark humour posts that he didn’t quite understand, he quickly decided to stick to the simple questions.

He was just familiarising himself with the song Present Mic Sensei had been teaching them in his dream, while simultaneously learning an entire branch of internet culture in the process, when Natsuo bounced into the room and draped himself over Shoto on the sofa. His brother rested his chin on his shoulder and squished his cheek against Shoto’s own scarred one.

‘Watcha googling?’ He mumbled, trying to look at his phone screen.

In that moment, Shoto stilled. He allowed a small grin to grace his face as he turned to look at his brother knowingly. Natsuo stepped back hesitantly, removing himself from Shoto and off of the sofa, worried. Maintaining eye contact with his brother, Shoto turned his screen to reveal his search results.

The lyrics to Never Gonna Give You Up shone across Natsuo’s face and his grey eyes widened with shock. Shoto’s grin broadened when his brother gasped dramatically and clutched at his chest before promptly falling to the ground.

‘Noooooooo!’ He sobbed, curling in on himself. ‘How could you, Sho?!’

Shoto rose from where he was seated and stood over his brother, victorious.

‘That’s for placing a bet on my love life.’

‘What is going on here?!’ Fuyumi ran into the room, out of breath. ‘I leave you two for five minutes and- Wait, Natsuo, why are you on the floor?’

In that moment, both Shoto and Natsuo looked up at their sister with uncanny synchrony. However, while Shoto flashed Fuyumi a cool smile, his brother looked significantly more distressed.

‘I can no longer go on, Neechan!’ He sobbed. ‘I have been rickrolled by my baby brother! I have brought dishonour to my family!’ He raised a fist and shook it at the ceiling. ‘Damn you, old man! You were right all along!’

‘Shoto, what did you do to him?!’ Fuyumi exclaimed, rounding on Shoto. ‘He just called father right. What happened?’

‘He literally said it.’ Shoto shrugged, weaving around his sister to exit the room so he could brag about his recent accomplishments to Izuku over the phone. After a moment of consideration though, he peeked his head back into the room. ‘Also, Natsuo-nii, remember to pay up. Izuku is a really good kisser, after all.’

The cry of anguish his brother emitted, along with Fuyumi’s joyful cackling echoed down the hallway.

Shoto allowed himself a small smile.

#todoroki shoto #todoroki family #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #tododeku #sibling chaos #i just need them to be happy #hopefully this makes up for the angst of the previous prompt mwhaha #AgarJelly writes #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #memes #sorry not sorry ;)

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bookocd · 3 years

Text

Light As Air Chapter 6

Hi guys! I know I haven’t updated in a while, but I’m in the middle of a school semester and with my son just learning how to walk things have been hectic. With that said I’m super excited for the chapter after this and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and the next :) Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tag List:

@wxstedhexrt

@power-of-words23

Summary:

In the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash, Fenrys finds himself connected with a mysteriously powerful fae female. With the confusion of her past and vast amount of power, the Aelin’s court becomes weary of Fenrys’s involvement.

Fenrys is still reeling after Connall’s death and while joining Aelin’s court has been a dream, his nightmares are still plagued by Maeve.

Vel will do anything to get the help she needs, but her past controls her emotions, and her hopes for the future clouds her judgement.

Maybe together they can mend what has been broken, but Vel’s strange origins will continue to keep them apart.

Link to Master List!

Chapter 6:

Vel felt strange wearing clothes that actually fit her.

After falling asleep immediately, with one less pillow on the bed, she woke up to a plate of food sitting on a new table along with a wooden chair. The table was placed in-between the two window, which had a beautiful view of the mountains. The food was amazing, bacon, eggs, and toast, which was better than anything she or her family had ever made. No matter the amount of cook books her father could find, cooking was never his or her strong suit.

Fenrys came to her at every meal, inviting her to join the royal court, and she fabricated reasons to deny every single time. She was surprised at her own creativity, but it became plainly obvious she was lying when her excuse at breakfast was that her stomach hurt, but he caught her doing pushups when he came with comfort food at lunch. He left the room in a huff and in the evening Fenrys had come back and all but threatened to throw her out of a window if she didn’t come down to the great hall for dinner. He also came with something new for her to wear and a comment about her own clothing being lost, which was utter bullshit.

Hence why she was wearing clothing that finally fit.

She felt more confident in the clothing, but she still fussed at the tan pants and black shirt, as Fenrys led her through the castles hallways.

“Why do you look so uncomfortable? Are the clothes not to your liking?” Fenrys must have noticed her pulling at the shirt.

“No no,” she huffed out a breath. For some reason she wanted to talk to him, to let him know why she was fidgeting. “Do you want me to be honest?”

“Always,” the sincerity in his voice was actually believable.

“I’ve never worn clothes that actually fit me,” she said quietly. The continued the walk in silence and when she finally had the nerve to look at him, he was already staring at her. He didn’t have a look of pity, which is what she was worried for, but one of pure curiosity.

“Well I’m sure the boys you met went crazy with you in ill-fitting clothes, so you probably saved yourself some riots,” he said with a cheeky grin.

She couldn’t help the snort that rose from her and the incredulous look. The truth was on her tongue. The fact that she had not met anyone outside of her family until a couple of years ago, or that she pretended she was a male for all of those outings. Come to think of it, her longest conversations with someone outside of her family, who knew she was a female, were with Fenrys. At that thought, which warmed her cheeks, she opted to stay silent.

Fenrys led her to a set of double doors and stopped. Not waiting for him, she took a deep breath and went to grip the handle, but Fenrys grabbed her wrist and turned her toward him. His lips were turned down and he seemed conflicted.

“I want you to know that the moment you want to leave, I will walk you back to your room. While this court is full of my family and friends, they are… opinionated,” he cringed slightly and Vel could tell that was the nicest word he could come up with. “Even with their extreme personalities you have at least one ally at all times. No matter who says what, I will always be in your corner to help and defend you.”

She was moved by his words and he still had a hold on her hand. As she stared at him, his face started to lighten and his thumb started to rub circles on the protruding misshapen bones of her hands. It was his lack of reaction that stirred her into a panic. She needed to keep him at arms length and never wanted to be seen as weak.

She forcibly removed her hand from his hold.

“I can defend myself,” she said and immediately regretted it. His small smile vanished.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you will be severely outnumbered in there.”

Then she found herself smirking, her face changing into the mask she wore so well. His eyes widened at whatever her face was expressing, but not even he knew the extent of her own training or what she was capable of when provoked.

“You know nothing.” She turned away from him and opened the double doors.

—

Fenrys was more confused than ever. This female was a giant question mark. He had seen her scared, panicked, calm, confident, and he also had seen kindness, pain, sincerity, and empathy, but the female that just looked at him wasn’t any of those things. She looked almost ominous, with a viscous smirk and her eyes wandering to each person in the room. He didn’t even know her real name, but he knew that this act wasn’t real, she was playing the part she thought was required to survive.

Fenrys quickly followed her into the great hall. There was a large rectangular table in the center of the room, where every member of his court was now siting, except for Lorcan and Ren, who were both probably sulking somewhere. No one sat at the head, so the center of the table was very crowded. Aelin and Rowan sat the farthest away from the door and both halted their forks as Vel walked forward and suddenly stopped when she caught sight of Lysandra. The shifter was the lounging in her snow leopard form, purring, while being pet by Aedion. She was literally laying on the table. Fenrys was only glad that the shock of seeing Lysandra had taken the intense look off Vel’s face.

“Vel meet Lady Lysandra,” Fenrys said, while putting a hand on the small of her back. The cat inclined her head slightly and then went right back to her cat nap. “And the one petting her is Aedion,” Fenrys continued as they made their way toward an open seat. “You know Aelin and Rowan,” he nodded his head at the couple. Vel gave them a small smile, but it was gone within a second. She took a seat next to Elide, who introduced herself and started some small talk. Fenrys took that opportunity to make two plates of food for him and Vel. He grabbed chicken, vegetables, and bread. Taking the seat across from Vel, he slid the plate toward her. She murmured a thank you.

The room was filled with silence. The only sound was that of forks against plates and chewing. Fenrys didn’t know what to do. This court was many things, but quiet was not one of them.

Fenrys was about to open his mouth, to say what, he had no idea, but it was abruptly cut off by the door opening once more.

Lorcan walked through and halted only a foot inside the room. His eyes were wide and wildly moving between Elide and Vel.

“Why in the hell is that female sitting next to Elide?” He spat out the word female, and Fenrys body heat spiked at the tone.

“Where did you want her to sit Lorcan?” Aelin asked with her brows raised.

“Preferably in a cell,” he said quietly, never taking his eyes off Vel.

Fenrys almost started in on him until he saw Vel. She was sitting at her seat, and still eating her food, completely ignoring Lorcan in his entirety. She must have felt Fen’s eyes, because she finally looked up from her plate.

His gaze must have held only questions, because she said, “What? I don’t respond well to stupidity.”

Silence filled the room again, and Fenrys was sure the room had not felt this type of atmosphere since the end of the war. It wasn’t until Elide, Elide, started to chuckle that the tension broke.

She gazed lovingly at her future husband and said, “She’s got you there Lor.”

Lorcan didn’t look amused as he moved forward to sit on Elide’s other side. He stopped only slightly as he passed Vel. Fenrys could barely make out what he said.

“You even touch her and I will fucking kill you.”

Vel did react to that. Her whole body went stiff and she halted her chewing. Fenrys’s fear for what she would do overcame his anger toward Lorcan.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Lorcan stopped dead in his tracks at Vel’s gravely words.

The whole room froze.

“What did you say?” Lorcan’s question came out as a growl. With a noise like that, Fenrys was left wondering how the male didn’t have an animal form.

“I said do not make promises or threats that you can’t fucking keep,” Vel answered, her dark eyes near glowing.

“Okay guys this is—”

Aedion’s reasoning was cut off by Aelin. “No. I want to see this play out.”

“Aelin!” Fenrys found himself shouting.

Vel and Lorcan were staring at each other. Lysandra looked like she was ready to pounce. Rowan and Aedion were giving Aelin a “what the fuck” gaze, and Elide seemed absolutely terrified.

One step from Lorcan was all it took for Vel. She was out of her seat faster than Fen had even seen anyone physically move. Fen found himself standing as well, trying to gauge the situation unfolding in front of him, but for some reason he wasn’t scared. He had this sudden sense that Vel could take care of herself, so the only emotion left was anger. Anger for how much of a fucking idiot Lorcan was.

Lorcan cocked his head to one side, scanned Vel’s body, and scoffed.

She stepped forward and clasped her hands behind her back. Walking toward one side, she all but floated to Lorcan’s left side. Vel circled him, giving him a wide girth, but circling him all the same. His cockiness was the only thing that allowed her to do this, and Fenrys felt like he was watching a vulture, stalking an animal that didn’t yet know it was about to die. She ended her walk back where she started.

It was then that she turned and gave Fenrys a mischievous grin. He got way to turned on by this.

“How do I say throughly unimpressive, so he will understand.” Fenrys felt his lips move upward into a huge smile. Her eyes sparkled at him.

Lorcan was fuming and started toward her. Vel quickly turned from Fen and then everything happened at once. Fenrys was flying across the table, Elide was jumping out of her seat, Rowan and Aedion had swords in their hands, Lysandra was back on her hunches ready to pounce. All the court members in that time period were rendered useless when Vel leaped into the air. Her arms were wrapped around Lorcan’s middle, propelling her legs behind him. Her whole body followed and suddenly in her movements to surround his body, her legs were closing around his throat. The momentum she had gained allowed her to throw the huge fae male to the ground, landing squarely on top of him. The fork she had been eating with was suddenly pressed to Lorcan throat. The court was standing, speechless around the two. Fenrys slowly moved toward Vel and whispered her name. She whipped her head to meet his gaze, she looked absolutely savage. Fenrys was instantly hard. A cough had her looking back at the male under her.

“Now let me explain something to you,” Vel sounded breathless. “I was able to pin you, in a matter of seconds, without the use of my magic. Now I know you will probably excuse this by being surprised, but I could do this again when you are fully prepared.” She removed the fork from his neck and gracefully spun and stood up.

Vel surveyed the members of the court, who all except Aelin, looked ready for battle. Aelin, of course, look absolutely delighted.

Fenrys had the sudden need to be at her side when she addressed the group, but he pulled on the urge. She obviously didn’t want or need his help, no matter how much he desired to give it.

Vel took a deep breath and Fenrys thought he felt a spike of her power, but it was quickly distinguished.

“I know that you do not know me, and some of you probably do not wish too,” she gave a pointed look at Lorcan, who had been joined on the floor by a kneeling Elide. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, but as I just demonstrated I can defend myself and will, without hesitation.”

The female turned toward Fenrys, looking at him under long black eyelashes. “I do not even know what I’m still doing here, but one word from you and I will go.”

Dread piled in the bottom of his stomach and he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, fuck no you aren’t going anywhere, but he was cut off by his queen.

“Fuck no you aren’t leaving. Things were getting a little boring around here.” Fenrys grinned at Aelin, and it only grew as she continued. “You have to teach me that move so I can use it on Rowan,” she elbowed her husband playfully.

She walked forward and grabbed Vel’s arm pulling her toward the door, Vel looked over her shoulder with a look of both excitement and fear. Fenrys couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Aelin whisper, in a voice she knew everyone could still hear, “When I say use it on Rowan, I mean in bed, so don’t be worried about the buzzards safety.”

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sarah j maas #Sarah j Maas boys #fenrys moonbeam #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver #rowan x aelin #aedion x lysandra #elide x lorcan

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eury--dice · 3 years

Text

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

23 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

The Parent Trap, Chapter 8 (Biadore) - Henny

WELL WELL WELL I hope you bitches are ready!

Hello, my loves!

Did you miss me? That was a loOOooooOoNg hiatus, almost *holds up three fingers* this many,I think. I have no excuses, I really just lacked the passion to continue this one. But, I’ve been lurking on Tumblr too long and I’m just so ready to get back into this. I have most of it plotted out already. I won’t promise a regular update, but I’m sure I’d get to finish this one way or another.

ALSO, I don’t want to get clocked or whatever, but I know when it comes to IVF and basic biology (I guess) The twins aren’t going to be identical since they’re from two separate sperm cells?? BUT, LIKE ALSO, I DON’T CARE?? It’s fanfiction, not fact. SO LET’S JUST SAY THESE GIRLS ARE IDENTICAL, BUT ONE OF EM IS DANNY’S AND ONE OF EM ROY’S (BUT YOU WON’T REALLY FIND OUT). Just please don’t make me think about science-y stuff. Sorry, STEM Majors!

Another thing, assume AS2 didn’t happen, okey?

All the love, Hennies!

xx Henny

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“Well… well… well… I hope you bitches are ready… “ Nerissa smiles, excited to meet Portia’s favorite. And when the screen shows her a face that is all too familiar and a voice that hits a little too close to home,

“I’m Bianca Del Rio, I’m thirty-seven years old…”

She pales.

Portia notices the quick change of mood. She reaches out to press the spacebar to pause the video, a little upset with the fact that they won’t get to finish the episode. The other girl is silent as she moves from Portia’s bed to her own, and something within Portia knew that Nerissa was in her head, deeply in her head. Not wanting to force the girl into anything she wasn’t comfortable with, Portia fiddles with the edge of her laptop with her head down.

Nerissa can feel the blood draining from her face. Some things were clicking into place. Her dad was a drag queen. Was Riz surprised? Not really. She has seen her dad put makeup on some models, not full-drag, but glam nonetheless. The dresses? Obviously. But, why didn’t HE tell HER? Anger rises in her system, she wanted to scream but something was holding her back. Her and her dad were always so close, and she’d like to believe that he didn’t have any secrets from her. Except that one room in their home. HMMM.

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A memory unlocks in her head. Age 7, finally mustering up the courage to rebel against her dad’s instructions,specifically about the one room in their apartment her dad said to never go in. It was always kept locked, except Uncle Shane accidentally left it unlocked that fruitful day. Nerissa remembers sneaking in, both adults thinking she was taking a nap. When she turned the lights on, her eyes were met with different colors. Sparkly, colorful, sequined dresses; Tall boots and heels; wigs of blacks, browns, and reds neatly perched on mannequin heads. It was beautiful and excitement bubbled up in her tummy. She walked over to a wall that was filled with picture frames; some people in them she knew, the others she didn’t.

One thing that struck her the most was a portrait that was nearly as big as her then-7-year-old body in the middle of the wall, the chandelier breaking the light in a myriad of colors on the photograph. The picture was of two beautiful queens, a little heavy handed on the makeup, now that she thinks about it. The two ladies wore beautiful black gowns, she would even assume that it was cut from the same fabric. The one with black hair wore a giant crown on her head, smiling a dimpled smile with her face to the spotlight. The other had fire red hair; she looked like she was screaming with joy as she lifted a sparkly scepter up in the air. They had one arm around the other’s waist and they looked very happy. She didn’t think much about it then, but…

“That was Bianca… and oh my god– that was Adore.” Nerissa says out of the blue, catching Portia’s attention from the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry what?” Portia asks, leaning closer to indicate that she was listening carefully now and that Riz had her full attention.

“Back in New York, my dad… he always kept this room locked. I only went there once, but he got really mad when he caught me.”

Portia moves to sit on Nerissa’s bed. “Yeah, okay… but you said something about my dad. What about Adore?”

“In that room,” Nerissa licks her lips, speaking slowly to help her rationalize her story in her head better. “… and I’m not sure if it’s still there. There was a picture of my dad as Bianca, and I think Adore. My dad wore a crown and Adore was holding the scepter.” She says thoughtfully. “Wow, spoiler alert. Ha!” She tries to joke, but now Portia looks at her with a shocked face.

“Wait, YOUR DAD IS BIANCA DEL RIO?! LIKE YOU’RE NERISSA HAYLOCK?? HAYLOCK?!?! AS IN ROY HAYLOCK?”

Nerissa blinks. “I thought you knew – how many Haylocks do you know?”

Portia blanches. “I DIDN’T WANT TO ASSUME! Roy Haylock has always been very hush-hush about you. You don’t even appear on social media, so you can’t really blame me. And my hatred for you, then, really blinded me. Sorry again, by the way. WAIT, LET ME JUST FANGIRL FOR A MINUTE.” Portia grabs a pillow and lets out a giddy scream.

Nerissa lets out a soft laugh before rolling her eyes playfully. “ANYWAY! FOCUS!! So, as I was saying, my dad has a picture of Bianca and Adore during, what I assume was, the coronation in his super secret closet.”

“Wait… but– No… no… that can’t be.” Portia says once she gets to calm her erratic heartbeat. “Bianca won season 6, I don’t think a photo like that photo exists– unless–” She stops talking abruptly and runs to her laptop. Nerissa watches her type furiously, obviously looking for something. When Portia finds it, she makes her way back to her position earlier.

“Look, see” Portia redirects Nerissa’s attention to the laptop’s screen. It was under a folder called “conspiracy theories” and from Riz’s point-of-view it was nothing but screenshots from Tumblr or twitter. “Back then, during their time, it was rumored that Bianca and Adore had filmed an ending where they both won–like they shared it. “

“Did you really search this about your dad?”

“YES! Now, pay attention” Portia huffs, brushing her hair back. “I don’t have more proof though because apparently the receipts back then were trashed when people started losing interest in Season 6 because we’re like in its, I don’t know like, 1000th season now. Then suddenly, when Bianca said she was quitting drag for good, more people deleted stuff about Bianca to respect her wishes then full-blast supported Roy in his fashion career.”

“Wait– wait, Bianca quit drag? Why?”

“Well, people started speculating that it was probably for his daugh–” Portia stops mid sentence, looking at Nerissa’s sudden sad face sheepishly. “Hey, don’t feel bad!”

“He was so happy, Porsche! I may not remember the picture’s every detail, but he was so happy being Bianca. Did you see the way she smiled the minute she walked in the werkroom? You mean to tell me I did that??”

“No, that’s just one of the speculations, really.”

“What were the others?”

“Retirement, boredom… to name a few. One thing I found interesting, but I highly doubt is that people said it was because of Adore.” Portia snorts as she mindlessly scrolls to her photos on her laptop. Nerissa observes her for a bit, before asking;

“How come?”

“If you’re talking about why people thought Adore was involved; that’s because before Bianca quit drag, her and Adore were really close. As in, super close, they were always seen or spotted together. When Bianca did quit, there was complete radio silence from Adore. They cut all communications on social media. Then people saw that they unfollowed each other and whatnot, PLUS they also found it odd that Roy was still talking to Courtney and would go to support local drag scenes, but would completely cop out if Adore was in any shape/form involved.” Portia explains, and Nerissa notes the hints of sadness in her voice.

“Makes sense to me, so then why do you doubt it?” Nerissa’s head tilts slightly as she watches Portia put her laptop on the bed. Her eyes then drift to the mirror that’s adjacent to the side of her bed and stares intently at their reflection.

“Well, for starters, if it ever happened, my dad would tell me. He knows that I absolutely adore Bianca, so I think if they ever had a relationship; he would let me know. It is weird though how he doesn’t really like talking about her. He’d just smile and shrug, so maybe there was a falling out or a fight.” Portia narrates, her sadness becoming a little more apparent.

Nerissa hums, in deep thought. A pregnant pause lingers in the air. With her curiosity getting the best of her, Nerissa asks out of the blue;

“Hey, Portia?”

“Yeah?"

"Did your dad adopt you?"

Portia looks at Nerissa as if she’s grown another head, which coming from her is ironic in itself.

"Well, no, but it’s kind of complicated. My dad was actually married in the past. He would tell me that they tried both fertilized eggs and hoped for the best. Nine months later, I was born and up until today, he doesn’t know if I was his or his ex’s biological baby, but he loves me nonetheless.”

“But won’t you look predominantly like one though?”

“Yeah, I look like my egg donor who looks eerily like my dad.” Portia pauses, head tilted.

“Aren’t you a little curious which one’s your biological dad?” Nerissa continues to probe. If things lined up correctly, Nerissa knew the both of them were going to be thrown into a loop. Portia thinks for a while, considering the idea, before her face contorts with distaste.

“Nah, he never really cared for me in the beginning, so why should I bother now? Even if I was his biologically, he didn’t raise me. He’s just a sperm donor to me, if ever. Why’d you ask anyway?“

"Because I refuse to play stupid when it’s so obvious that we’re twins.” Nerissa exclaims with such vigor, Portia nearly fell over the bed in surprise. ”Can’t you see how identical we look?"

"But…”

“No, no! Don’t try to deny it. I know there’s this whole theory about at least 5 people in the world looking like you–but not like this! Especially not when we basically have the same story growing up!” Nerissa is shaking as she stands to retrieve a picture in her bag; the very same frame she showed her friends her first day in the camp. She traced the edges of the frame before following the lines of her sleeping dad’s face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?' She thinks inwardly, willing the man in the photo for an answer.

“Riz, I think this is too much of a stretch. Our dads would’ve told us if it was something this serious. And our childhood couldn’t be that similar! And, even if–IF we were siblings; I wasn’t born a twin.”

“Oh yeah? When’s your birthday?”

“January 12.”

“Same here. I’m turning 11, you’re turning 11, too, right?. I’m telling you… It makes sense! My dad ALSO said he had a partner a long time ago and like you; I don’t know who my biological father is because I could be my dad’s or his ex! And, to be honest, I really don’t care to know at this point, but it all lines up!” Riz gets flustered now, there’s a funny feeling in her tummy as Portia still looks at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“And my dad said I looked mostly egg donor too, but he always says that he can see the things that remind him that I’m his or his partner’s– ex partner .” Nerissa finishes, plopping down to sit beside Portia who was still silent. “Well… what do you think? Say something!” She urges, almost pleadingly.

“So… you mean to tell me…”

“Yeah?” Nerissa prompts, watching the girl add things up in her head and the growing realization dawn on her face.

“BIADORE WAS REAL?!?!” Portia screeches with excitement before Nerissa hits her with a pillow.

“UGhhhhhhH!” Nerissa groans, “Can you stop thinking about drag race? This is bigger than us now. BUT, IN HINDSIGHT, YES! I genuinely believe that my dad and your dad used to be together, and they were probably the “ex” in our birth stories.”

“How are we twins with different dads though?” Portia asks once she calms down again.

“It’s possible. I read about it once, it’s like what happened with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner. They had a surrogate accept both eggs, so they had twins. Theirs was fraternal though, and seeing how identical we are– I’m guessing we’re a pretty special case of science and sheer luck.” Nerissa sighs, then sadly adds “It’s kinda annoying how they didn’t tell us. It’s one thing to divorce each other, but to raise kids and hiding a part of their truth? I think it’s cruel.”

“No… It kinda makes sense to me.” Portia says after a few minutes of silence and letting the question linger in the air. “My dad didn’t tell me about you… about how I was a twin because he knew…” she continues to say, breath slow and soft, almost wavering. Tears slowly fill her eyes as she looks at her twin in front of her, “He knew if he told me about you, I would go looking for you. I- I would’ve done everything to meet my sister because I’ve always wanted a sister.” She sniffles, her hand reaching out to grasp the other girl’s hand. “And now I have one” Portia pulls Nerissa in for a hug.

They let the tears flow; tears of confusion, anger, frustration, joy, and love. They murmured their “sorry”; “it’s okay”; “I’ll still fight you when it comes to boys though”; and “Nah, don’t worry, I don’t even like boys…”

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When sobs turned to sniffles and feelings were pacified by food and other words of affirmation, they found themselves nestled on the ground between their bed frames with their mattress and heaps of pillows and blankets surrounding them.

“We still have a few weeks in here, what do you want to do till then?” Portia asks as she stuffs another cookie down her throat. Nerissa lifts a leg up nonchalantly in the air before dramatically dropping it to Portia’s side of the bed.

“Well, I still have more episodes of season 6 to go, right?” She proposes, making Portia smile with excitement. Portia, then, scrambles to get her laptop and plop back down to their little nest.

“Ready to see my dad kick your dad’s ass?” Portia taunts as she hovers to play Episode 2 from where the left off.

“Yeah, as if…”

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Los Angeles, California. 9PM.

Adore sat in front of the mirror, already cinched and dressed, 30 minutes before she was supposed to go on. She had arrived at least an hour before call time, something she had picked up when her and Bianca used to go to gigs together. She rolls her eyes at the memory, mostly due to her annoyance with herself. She knew deep down that she should’ve moved on; it’s been years. But, can you really blame her? You never forget your greatest love and your most painful heartbreak; it was rare for both storylines to be the same person. Because, who in their right mind let’s their greatest love go? Adore did; Danny did. She lets out a few lip thrills to recompose herself and blinks away at the tears threatening to ruin her makeup.

Her phone rings; without looking at the contact, she answers it with a few sniffles.

“Hello?” Adore drawls while grabbing a tissue across the table and dab it slowly under her eyes and her nose.

“Adore, darling!” Ru’s voice rings loudly across the speakers. Adore can hear him talk to someone in the background, but their conversation couldn’t be heard from her end.

“Hi, Ru…” She tries to mask the surprise in her voice. She knew the RuPaul didn’t make social calls UNLESS it was a big social event. If there’s one reason, one reason at all, Ru could be calling it’s…

“Hey, baby, I just wanted to call you myself since this might be a big favor to ask you…”

–that.

“Of course, Mama, what is it?” Adore was barely listening at this point, trying to come up with excuses already.

“Well, would you be interested in joining the first all-stars: battle of the winners in place of Bianca?”

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PREVIOUS CHAPTERS:

TAGS Biadore, Bianca Del Rio, Adore Delano, Courtney Act, Parent Trap AU, Henny, Family, Slowburn

WELL WELL WELL I hope you bitches are ready!

Hello, my loves!

ALSO, I don’t want to get clocked or whatever, but I know when it comes to IVF and basic biology (Iguess) The twins aren’t going to be identical since they’re from two separate sperm cells?? BUT, LIKE ALSO, I DON’T CARE?? It’s fanfiction, not fact. SO LET’S JUST SAY THESE GIRLS ARE IDENTICAL, BUT ONE OF EM IS DANNY’S AND ONE OF EM ROY’S (BUT YOU WON’T REALLY FIND OUT). Just please don’t make me think about science-y stuff. Sorry, STEM Majors!

Another thing, assume AS2 didn’t happen, okey?

All the love, Hennies!

Xxx Henny

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“I’m Bianca Del Rio, I’m thirty-seven years old…”

She pales.

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“That was Bianca… and oh my god– that was Adore.” Nerissa says out of the blue, catching Portia’s attention from the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry what?” Portia asks, leaning closer to indicate that she was listening carefully now and that Riz had her full attention.

“Back in New York, my dad… he always kept this room locked. I only went there once, but he got really mad when he caught me.”

Portia moves to sit on Nerissa’s bed. “Yeah, okay… but you said something about my dad. What about Adore?”

“Wait, YOUR DAD IS BIANCA DEL RIO?! LIKE YOU’RE NERISSA HAYLOCK?? HAYLOCK?!?! AS IN ROY HAYLOCK?”

Nerissa blinks. “I thought you knew – how many Haylocks do you know?”

“Did you really search this about your dad?”

“Wait– wait, Bianca quit drag? Why?”

“Well, people started speculating that it was probably for his daugh–” Portia stops mid sentence, looking at Nerissa’s sudden sad face sheepishly. “Hey, don’t feel bad!”

“No, that’s just one of the speculations, really.”

“What were the others?”

“How come?”

Nerissa hums, in deep thought. A pregnant pause lingers in the air. With her curiosity getting the best of her, Nerissa asks out of the blue;

"Hey, Portia?”

“Yeah?"

"Did your dad adopt you?"

Portia looks at Nerissa as if she’s grown another head, which coming from her is ironic in itself.

"Well, no, but it’s kind of complicated. My dad was actually married in the past. He would tell me that they tried both fertilized eggs and hoped for the best. Nine months later, I was born and up until today he doesn’t know if I was his or his ex’s biological baby, but he loves me nonetheless.”

“But won’t you look predominantly like one though?”

“Yeah, I look like my egg donor who looks eerily like my dad.” Portia pauses, head tilted.

“Nah, he never really cared for me in the beginning, so why should I bother now? Even if I was his, biologically, he didn’t raise me. He’s just a sperm donor to me, if ever. Why’d you ask anyway?“

"But…”

“No, no! Don’t try to deny it. I know there’s this whole theory about at least 5 people in the world looking like you–but not like this! Especially not when we basically have the same story growing up!” Nerissa is shaking as she stands to retrieve a picture in her bag;the very same frame she showed her friends her first day in the camp. She traced the edges of the frame before following the lines of her sleeping dad’s face. 'Why didn’t you tell me?' She thinks inwardly, willing the man in the photo for an answer.

“Oh yeah? When’s your birthday?”

“January 12.”

“Same here. I’m turning 11, you’re turning 11. I’m telling you… It makes sense! My dad ALSO said he had a partner a long time ago and like you; I don’t know who my biological father is because I could be my dad’s or his ex! And, to be honest, I really don’t care to know at this point, but it all lines up!” Riz gets flustered now, there’s a funny feeling in her tummy as Portia still looks at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“So… you mean to tell me…”

“Yeah?” Nerissa prompts, watching the girl add things up in her head and the growing realization dawn on her face.

“BIADORE WAS REAL?!?!” Portia screeches with excitement before Nerissa hits her with a pillow.

“How are we twins with different dads though?” Portia asks once she calms down again.

“It’s possible. I read about it once, it’s like what happened with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner. They had a surrogate accept both eggs, so they had twins. Theirs was fraternal though, and seeing how identical we are– I’m guessing we’re a pretty special case of science and sheer luck.” Nerissa sighs, “It’s kinda annoying how they didn’t tell us though. It’s one thing to divorce each other, but to raise kids and hiding a part of their truth? I think it’s cruel.”

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“Well, I still have more episodes of season 6 to go, right?” She proposes, making Portia smile with excitement. Portia, then, scrambles to get her laptop and plop back down to their little nest.

“Ready to see my dad kick your dad’s ass?” Portia taunts as she hovers to play Episode 2 from where the left off.

“Yeah, as if…”

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Los Angeles, California. 9PM.

Her phone rings; without looking at the contact, she answers it with a few sniffles.

“Hello?” Adore drawls while grabbing a tissue across the table and dab it slowly under her eyes and her nose.

“Adore, darling!” Ru’s voice rings loudly across the speakers. Adore can hear him talk to someone in the background, but their conversation couldn’t be heard from her end.

“Hey, baby, I just wanted to call you myself since this might be a big favor to ask you…”

–that.

“Of course, Mama, what is it?” Adore was barely listening at this point, trying to come up with excuses already.

“Well, would you be interested in joining the first all-stars: battle of the winners in place of Bianca?”

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #original child characters #canon compliant #parenting au #parent trap au #the parent trap #henny

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some-dr-writings · 3 years

Text

Maki and her protective best friend celebrate her birthday one-shot: Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

The life of an assassin was a rather lonely one, for Maki Harukawa at least. Nothing but hiding and killing people. That was it for the most part. Often times she’d think back to a certain mission that would change her life, the mission that allowed her to just be a person for a while, the assignment that took her to Hope’s Peak Academy. Initially she was just there for work, but in her time looking into her target’s schedule, she got to get to know people, talk, and laugh with others, get roped into others’ silly plans, just have fun with her class. After taking out her target she was supposed to leave, but she stayed. She kept attending as the Super High School Caregiver, for the first time she ignored an order and made a choice for herself. She stayed and made friends. It was by far the best time in her life. She found herself just wanting to be with them, and she fought for it, and it was all worth it. No matter how she longed to return to those days she could never go back though. The moment they graduated it was all over, she had to slink back into the shadows and return to her true work.

At times, she wondered if things could have turned out different though. It is said that all those who attend Hope’s Peak Academy and managed to graduate were guaranteed a great future. Perhaps there she could have made an even bigger change in her life than allowing herself agency. Perhaps she could have gone even farther, find some way to make lots of money to keep her old orphanage running without the need of assassins. Leave her old life behind and make a new one, one where she could keep better contact with her friends. One where she wouldn’t have to worry about their safety if she stayed close to them. Very few of her old friend could she keep around to some extent, but even then, she had to keep them at a great distance and disappear for years on end from them.

Maki never regretted attending Hope’s Peak and staying, never even crossed her mind to consider it. Leaving hurt, but her memories could never be taken away. She could always keep those precious moment close at hand, times she drew strength from like her time at the orphanage. No matter the amount of blood spilled, the constant moving from place to place, hiding and attacking, the paranoia, she always had those memories.

It was rarer, but at times, her missing these times became too much to bear, there was one place she could return to for a week or less to recapture the carefreeness she could never attain anywhere else. A single apartment tucked away in some city, hidden away from the world. It was the perfect place for those who preferred to hide away from one and all.

As Maki approached the apartment, she heard the distinct sound of laughter and something being knocked over. Maki leaped back, the door suddenly slamming open. “Nishishi! Ah! MAKIROLL!” The purple haired gremlin ducked behind her, clutching something. “Protect me with your scary, evil, assassin, murder, death glair!” Maki shoved Kokichi into the wall behind her, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Do you want to die?” Her grip was not tight though, knowing Kokichi was not stupid enough to so loosely say that, he would only do so now knowing no one could be listening in. Even so, her reaction to hearing that was so instinctive. Kokichi managed to slip out from under her hand. “Yeah! That look exactly! Now! I choose you, Maki! Use scary-evil-assassin-murder-death-glair on Y/N!” She looked to the open door, you out of breath, your smile beaming. “Maki!” She didn’t move accepting you tackling her into a hug. “You’re back! You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” A bright blush instantly erupted on her cheeks as you squeezed her tightly, nuzzling into her. “Oh~ What’s this? Our stoic assassin has a weakness for hugs?” Kokichi hugged her tightly as well, only making the blush on her cheeks darken to a bright red. “D-do you want to die!?” “Maki get’s hugs.” “Maki get’s hugs!”

If Maki could only keep one person from her high school days, she was so glad it was you, her best friend… even if you usually came with Kokichi of all people.

Eagerly you took Maki’s hands, dragging her into the apartment as Kokichi did the same but instead shoving her in. “Aw, this is the best! I didn’t think we’d have you for your birthday!” “My birthday?” As you dashed away into the kitchen Kokichi hopped up, taking Maki’s coat. “Whaaaaa!? You didn’t know today was your own birthday!?” Those crocodile tears came pouring out as he wailed. “Thaaaaaat’s sooo saaaaaaad!” Those tears however abruptly stopped as Kokichi spotted you. “Oh! Cake!” “Happy birthday Maki!” You presented the white frosted cake to her, giving it a twirl before placing it on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. Kokichi had already scampered off, gathering plates and forks.

So it was February already? Maki hadn’t even noticed. As she sat at the island, watching as you and Kokichi playfully bickered about who was going to cut the cake, you worrying about Kokichi taking a giant piece for himself or some such, Maki wondered how long it had been since she had seen the pair of you. It had been at least little more than a year, she knew that for sure.

“Ugh! Why do I even live with a brat like you anyway?” “You make almost no money and only I do.” “… Damn it!” “Y’know, the offer to join my secret evil organization is still open! Same goes for you miss, evil scary assassin! We could use someone li-” Kokichi’s offer was cutoff by you slamming a hand on the Island, before Kokichi. “Maki is not evil, nor is she scary you monster. Look at her, she’s the definition of adorable!” Maki immediately turned away, nervously playing with her hair. “Not this again.” A light blush dusted on her cheeks knowing what was happening. “Excuse me!? Yes, this again!” You leaned over the table, gently poking her cheek. “Soft squishable cheeks. Big eyes. Little ears. Pouty smile. Get’s flustered easily. Simply adorable!” It seemed every time she came to see you Kokichi would appear at some point and say something to get you to go off on how great, cute, or amazing she was. She’d almost think Kokichi was doing this on purpose specifically to get you to compliment her so much but to Maki this could not be the case. To Maki, Kokchi was a selfish creature. All he did was for his own entertainment so getting you to compliment Maki and fluster her was for Kokichi’s entertainment, not for Maki, she couldn’t understand the dictator’s behavior in any other way.

As you continued to go on how adorable she was Kokichi cut three giant slices of cake for each of you. It was red velvet. It was delicious. She never said anything about it, but… Maki liked it, knowing that at least you and maybe Kokichi were going to celebrate her birthday, even if she likely wouldn’t have been around to celebrate it too. She remembered how despite it happening every year, every time she was surprised when you and the whole class threw a birthday party for her. And yet again the exact same thing has happened, you and others, well, one other, surprising her by celebrating her birthday.

Before Maki knew it, most of the cake was gone and the three of you were making a fort in the living room. “This is stupid. Why are we even doing this?” “What!? Stupid!? Gurl, we’re making our secret base!” Kokichi skipped away to gather more blankets while you were trying to figure out where to place a chair. “Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself, so I think that’s a good enough reason!” “Maybe I am.” Maki acted as your assistant getting blankets and pillows from your room to add to the fort, all the while Kokichi mostly keeping to his room, occasionally popping out and cause chaos, knocking down a wall only for you and Maki to make the fort even bigger and more sturdy. Soon there was nothing else that could be used, and it was a mighty fort indeed.

You and Maki sat huddle inside. You held Maki’ hand, carefully brushing the first coat of nail polish on her nails while Kokichi kept being unable to decide which color Maki should wear… despite you already brushing a color on. “Say, when was the last time you got your nails painted?” “Last time I visited you.” “Three years ago!?” Ah… so that’s how long it’s been. You looked to your dear friend in disappointment. “Maki! You promised me you’d try to do more things for yourself!” “I came here, didn’t I?” “Well, yeah. But you need to take care of yourself more often, not every couple of years!” “I don’t have many chances to do this. I much rather paint my nails with you than on my own.” “…” You were silent, just thinking for a moment. “Was this really the first opportunity you had in three years?” “… No, this isn’t, but this was the only good chance. My next assignment is not too close, no one is following me, I can actually be here.” “Then what about those other times when you can’t get here. Can’t you do even a little something for yourself then?” “I have to focus on work.” “All work and nothing else… well, you’re unfortunately used to that.” “Yeah.” Kokichi groaned as he placed one of the little bottles down. “Geez Maki-dearest-” “Don’t call me that.” “Your life must suck. Why don’t you make a change! Have some fun!” “Shut up, you don’t know why I have to do this… Why I can’t do anything else.” “… Wow, so depressing. Is this why you’re always sulking?” “I don’t sulk!” “Oh, miss sad assassin, I’d almost pitty you if you weren’t heartless.” Kokichi smirked seeing you had tried to hit him with a rolled up magazine. “Maki has feelings, and she expresses them too! She’s just not as loud and obnoxious as SOME people!” “Aw, Y/N, it’s okay. We already know you’re a cry baby, you don’t have to tell us.” Kokichi immediately sprinted out of the fort, you lunging after him for a tussle. “Don’t bother, he’s just trying to get a ruse out of you.” “Yeah! That just makes beating him with a pillow more fun!” Maki couldn’t help but laugh a little seeing you were just as fiery, looking for any excuse to fight as ever. “So, how has the underground wrestling been treating you?” “I won the world championship!” Your eyes sparked with delight as you went on to explaining how it was one of your toughest matches, both you and your opponent trying your best, not holding anything back, even if it meant playing dirty and using weapons or throwing chairs.

And that was how the rest of the day went, just you and Maki happily chatting as you did whatever Maki liked and not often had the chance to do, like playing with make-up or styling her hair. Small little things that Maki so loved and appreciated that so many others got to do without a second thought. All too soon that fun had come to an end though. You had long gone to sleep and would not awaken for another few hours while Maki was up and restless.

Maki looked around the kitchen, searching through cupboard after cupboard till she found where the plastics were kept. She took out a little container and a fork, placing much more money than the cost of the things on the counter in case these were something more expensive than expected. She then cut a slice of cake, placing it in the container, along with the fork. She then stowed it away in the bag she had discarded upon arrival. Collecting that as well as the coat she had all she brought and left.

Upon exiting the building she looked up, finding the sky pitch black, pure white snow gently drifting down mixing and twirling around her frozen breaths which drifted up into the air, getting carried away by the wind, no control as to it’s destination before dissipating into nothing with the air. She pulled on the ends of her coat, hugging herself making it tighter as to be a better shield from the chilled world which surrounded her. With her every step down the sidewalk her lone footfalls echoed, a soft crunching sound of the snow being crushed under the weight of it all as she moved on. Of all seasons, winter had to be Maki’s least favorite, she couldn’t see why so many others found it to be so fun and great. It was just cold to her, nothing else. She sighed, wondering how long this awful snowfall was going to last, there seemed to be no end in sight.

There was hardly any other soul around, it was the early morning hours after all, just a little past midnight in fact. No one would want to be out in this dreadful cold. It was dark out too, making it hard to see. However that did not mean one could not notice some things like sounds that were almost silences by the snow that seemed to blanket everything, even it however could not cover up that distinctive voice. “Awww, you leaving already Maki-bear?” “Shut up. Stop giving me stupid nicknames. What do you want anyway?” That dreaded ‘Nishishi’ laughter rumbled out of him, the smile clear in it’s tone. “Why do you have to be such a meanie! I just want to say goodbye to my big sister!” “I am NOT your big sister!” A sigh escaped him at that response. “You always do this, sneak away when we’re not looking. Is it that hard for you to say goodbye? Don’t want to relive saying goodbye to everyone at our graduation ceremony?” He hummed away for a moment, then spoke, cutting off any response Maki could have made. “Say now that I think about it… You said goodbye to everyone but Y/N and I. It’s because we’re the only ones you knew you could see without putting into danger right? Because we both also specialize in illegal activities and know how to avoid people like you, right? Right!? I’m right, aren’t I! I knew it!” How his tone could so effortlessly change as if turning on and off a light with a single flip of the switch, that must have been one of the things Maki disliked most about the man, only second to how annoying and childish he relished being. His tone went from something somewhat serious to jubilation.

“You know, you can see them again. You don’t have to keep killing yourself. You can have your cake and eat it too!” “What?” Maki instinctively took a step back, hearing Kokichi was drawing nearer. This was a tone Maki had so rarely heard. It was a tone she could never quite place what it was, it was something like serious, but it was more open, light, earnest… who was she kidding, Kokichi could never be honest and open. His embrace was tight and warm. Even with the layers Maki could feel Kokichi’s heart beating next to her’s. “You know just as well as I do that crime can pay. How do you think I can afford an apartment for Y/N and other places around the world for me and my lackies? Join us. Slaving away at something you don’t even like. That’s just cruel torture. I know you can see it, a chance to break free. You can risk it all for a world where you can live a little, laugh, have fun, see everyone again. You can be family and not just on stand by waiting for SOMETHING! You can make a choice! Come with me, leave your cold dead world behind and come join me in the warmth of others. Let yourself love without any walls. Embrace others unabashedly without worry. Join me in a better life… Please. You can’t keep going like this Maki. We could have days like this every day, and we can protect whoever you want. I know you see it, you don’t need to sacrifice them or yourself anymore. No more aching, no more distance. You can let yourself be warm and close with others.”

Suddenly Kokichi pushed himself away. “But why would you believe a liar like me.” There was that childish tone Maki was all too accustomed too. “Whatever, I’m going to draw on Y/N face with marker, I’ve been getting rusty in my graffiti skills.” Then he skipped away. Maki huffed in annoyance, moving on. The hell was that brat saying. This was Maki’s life, she couldn’t move on to something else…

Sitting on the train Maki watched as she was carried away from the little town, the sun begging to rise, it’s golden glow obscured by the dark clouds. Opening her bag Maki found something unexpected. It was the rest of the cake in a container. There wasn’t much cake left anyway, but… Maki shook her head at the notion, the moment she opened the lid it likely would explode or something, Kokichi would do something like that. Maki did indulge on her slice. Even a little piece was better than nothing, leaving it all behind. It’s hard to quit something once you’ve gotten a taste of it after all.

It was a good thing maki left so soon, she was unexpectedly given new work not even an hour later. She was setting up in her new apartment. It was quiet and empty save a few basic necessities, but nothing else. Maki didn’t need anything else anyway. As she unpacked she cautiously placed the cake on some counter. As she took off her coat something fell out of one of the pockets. On one side was an address, and the other it just said ‘If you want to have your cake and eat it too’ followed by a little doodle of Kokichi’s face. This was all just some elaborate prank, it couldn’t be real in the slightest.

And so she continued to unpack though there was not much.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

And she did her work.

And she waited for another assignment.

All that time though she kept the cake, untouched in its box. That was till she found everything just tasted bland. So she tried the cake. It was stale, a little hard, but… it had some taste. And it felt warm.

It couldn’t hurt to at least look into where the address lead too. Who knows, maybe there really would be cake, and it’s be fresh and truly warm.

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

Remus Involuntarily Cross-Dressing

An excerpt from my Marauders prequal, We Were- Chapter 4: Reckless

"A really handsome troll?"

"No Sirius."

"Peter's long lost dad?"

"What does that have to do with his gigantic size?" Peter demanded.

"Clearly you need to brush up on your giants Pete," James snorted. "Hagrid's note even half the size of a full grown one."

"Maybe he's a werewolf," Sirius suddenly declared like he'd made the most brilliant of deductions.

Remus pounced on him. Even the first years didn't look up as the two went wrestling around the floor this time, Bobby Saigle stepping casually over them to get to the portrait hole.

Sirius stopped abruptly when Bless and Tegan walked in, straightening up to his feet and running his fingers through his hair, giving one last kick to Remus as he said smoothly, "evening ladies. Bless, just wanted to congratulate you again on that win, really something you were, I'd love you to show me those moves."

"Trying to take my spot on the team?" She challenged even as she smiled back at the flattery.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he promised, edging closer.

She knew exactly what that smile meant, but she side eyed James before going any farther and answering, "Would you perhaps like to sit with us at the match for Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw next week? I can show you all kinds of moves by then."

Sirius knew exactly what had just happened, and he had no issues being used by her in the meantime until she realized it was never going to happen. "I'd love that."

Remus jabbed him in the back of the knee, but at least he waited until the two departed.

Sirius looked down liked he'd forgotten he was there. Then his smile brightened and Remus cringed into the carpet.

"You're coming to the match with us next weekend."

"Sirius," Remus whined. "Why me?"

"Because James is already pretending to like one girl and I don't want Atria to kill Peter," Sirius said like it was obvious. "Just talk to Tegan while Bless and I sneak under the stands, don't want to ditch the poor thing."

"Absolutely not," Remus stated in no uncertain terms, crossing his arms and clearly intending to stay right here for the next week just to prove his point. The plush carpet really was quite comfortable, he was mildly confident he could talk Peter into bringing him food and the majority of his homework, at least Kettleburn wouldn't dock him too much for missing that class, now he just had to figure out how to use the bathroom-

"Oh come on!" Sirius groaned, "I'm not even setting you up, I swear, just talk Quidditch with the girl for a few hours!"

"You're quite confident in yourself," James snorted.

"I'll not do it," Remus stated. He glanced uneasily around, finally lowering his voice to hiss, "not this weekend you idiot!"

It wasn't like Sirius had forgotten, but he still thought Remus could drag his butt from the hospital wing this one time! "I'll spring you from Madam Pomfrey, I thought you'd be thanking me."

"No. Absolutely not," Remus stated.

Sirius got a challenging gleam in his eye, but finally returned to his homework.

Remus gulped, but reached up to grab a pillow from the couch, not caring for the dirty look Veronica Fletch gave him as he dislodged her elbow from it as he sprawled out on the ground, now on eye level with Patricia Bishop for once.

It took him nothing to fall asleep, and especially the week preceding a full moon he was a very heavy sleeper. Still, even he would have thought he'd notice what Sirius had done to him when he woke up before the laughter caught his ears.

He'd been wrong, Sirius wasn't going to hold a grudge next week when he didn't do it. He was preemptively getting revenge now.

"That's a nice color on you mate," Peter told him, leaning over the couch with tears running down his face.

The dress was not a good color on him, he looked more like he was wearing bits of elephant skin. He yanked his wand from a still available pocket and jabbed so hard at it there was probably a tear there now, but it didn't change back to his robes.

"Sirius!" He shouted, but too late, the portrait hole had long since closed.

Heart thudding in his chest, Remus went bolting up the staircase before the rest of the common room pissed themselves with laughter.

He came back down the stairs with it hanging from one hand so he could strangle Sirius with it, but again he fell victim to trying to predict Sirius' next move. He would have thought he'd try bolting to their first class of the morning and skipping breakfast, but witnesses and a teacher weren't going to stop Remus this time.

The bright flash of blue light did, and he yelped to once again find his clothes had changed, this time to a plaid skirt and a halter top.

Sirius had circled back and was lounging in the common room in easy murdering distance.

"You're right Remus, that outfit does look better," Sirius nodded to himself while Remus tried to charge at him, Sirius flipping out of the chair and easily dodging him. "I'm worried you'll catch a cold though, here, let's try something else." Another flash of blue light, and he was wearing a pink cardigan over a floor length wool skirt. "Much better!" Sirius praised, "still working out the kinks of-"

He had to duck the curse sent his way, but still leapt clean over a table while saying, "I thought you'd appreciate it! Now you can sit with the girl without freaking out! I'm sure I can even give you matching outfits the day of!"

The bastard went tearing out of the portrait hole again before Remus could catch him, and he almost made the mistake of going after him before he caught himself with one foot out. The Fat Lady would never let him back in while classes were going on, and the warning bell chose that moment to ring. He dashed back up the stairs and changed clothes quickly again.

He stopped from going back down the stairs though as he wondered how far Sirius would push this. Experience told him he wouldn't give up unless Remus did something to force him to say otherwise. Biting his lip, he went to James' trunk, and gave a merciful sigh his cloak was right there at the top. Swinging it on, he padded slowly and carefully down the stairs once more.

Sirius at least wasn't waiting for him this time, but he wasn't taking chances, cautiously assessing every step down to their Transfiguration class.

"Potter! Black! Will you pay attention!" Remus smiled and leaned casually against the wall, waiting patiently under the cloak until the bell rang.

They were the last three to leave, and Peter poked his head out first, swiveling side to side carefully before saying, "all clear. Are you really going to keep this up the rest of the week?"

Sirius came strutting out looking far too pleased with himself. "He's probably just going to hide in the dorms all day-"

Remus' hexes were as formidable as Sirius' transfiguration, there was a suctioning noise in the air around him before he sunk into the floor, stuck from the waist up. Remus had Sirius' wand in his hand before he even knew what happened.

"You're an arsehole," Remus pleasantly informed him as he removed the cloak.

"But you love me anyways?" Sirius offered, wiggling in place, and sinking deeper.

"Nope," Remus smirked.

"Fine, fine," he relented, making grabby motions for his wand back as he sunk up to his chest. "You win this time, alright?"

Remus still held his wand tantalizingly above his fingers, meeting his eyes for several long seconds. He was up to his armpits. "Say it Sirius."

Sirius groaned but forced out the words. "You win Remus!"

He dropped the wand, and Sirius grumbled as he got himself out of the floor.

The arsehole still hooked up with Bless over the weekend too.

#The Marauders #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #fanfiction

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whitewitchdani · 4 years

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Laters, Baby: Chapter 10

Read Chapter 9 Here

Word Count: 2598

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x Lucifer

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of sex, language

A/N: Chapter 10! Let me know what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

Later’s, Baby Masterlist

You were pleasantly surprised that, although you had slept in Hell and on the way here, you felt tired almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. You had gotten more sleep in the last 24 hours alone than all three Winchesters combined got in a week. Though, with everything that had happened, could anyone really blame you?

You snuggled deeply into the sheets of the bed and took a deep breath. Flipping over to your other side, you pulled the silk sheets up to your... Silk sheets? You opened your eyes to see red silk sheets in place of the white cotton ones that had been there before. What the hell? you thought to yourself. You were facing the door of the bedroom at Bobby’s house so you hadn’t left, what was going on? You returned to your left side and gasped as you were met with a pair of deep blue eyes.

“I know you said red was cliché, but these are so much more comfortable than the drab that was on here before, aren’t they?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Lucifer?”

“In the flesh. Well, sort of.”

“But, how? How’d you find-” you paused and let out a small laugh, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

“‘fraid so doll. I know you’re disappointed you don’t get all this in person but since my annoying little bro carved that warding into all of your ribs, I can’t find you physically. This is the only way we can talk.”

“Talk about what? Are you finally going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Lucifer sat up against the headboard and you followed suit. He took a deep breath and pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. It may have only been a dream, but it felt so incredibly real to you; you felt his hand touch your face and the chill that went down your spine as a result.

“I suppose it’s only fair that you know as much as I do. This involves you too.” He sighed and rose from the bed, beginning to pace in front of it. “You know, this whole thing is just as weird for me as it is for you. You’re... human. Your whole race is broken, flawed. And for some Dad-forsaken reason, I can’t bring myself to kill you. I’m developing feelings. It’s terrible.”

“Okay this is getting a little insulting...”

“But it’s not terrible, that’s the thing. I like it. I like you. I was there when Father created the soulmate connection for humans. It was beautiful, one of the only things I envied of your kind. It’s incredibly rare, but deep and powerful when it happens.” He moved to sit back beside you on the bed. “Why Father brought you to me, I am unsure, but I am glad he did. I am eager to complete the connection, because I know that once we do we will be incredible together. Powerful.”

“Complete the connection? What do you mean? And powerful? Lucifer I’m so lost right now.”

He caressed your face, “Right now, we are only in the beginning stages of the connection. I miss you, but it’s tolerable. After we complete the connection, we will truly become soulmates. Our souls will intertwine and become one. The mixture of your humanity and my grace as a result will make us extremely powerful, BOTH of us.”

“How do we complete the connection?”

Lucifer smirked, “That’s the fun part. I’ve never had intercourse with a human, but from what I’ve seen it looks extremely enjoyable.”

“Woah, woah, wait. What?? Okay, number one; please don’t call it intercourse. Number two; we complete the connection by having sex? Seriously??”

“Yes, angel. And when we do we will be inseparable. You will receive some of my grace, and I will receive some of your humanity, making us two of the most powerful beings in existence.”

“This...this is insane.” You leaned back and rubbed your temples.

“Trust me, I know. It won’t happen immediately, I’m not a monster.”

“You’re literally the devil.”

“Yes, but like I said, I’m nothing if not one for the classics. All that old school romance stuff looks fun. Plus, it’s a rule of the connection, it cannot be forced in any way.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For some reason you trusted Lucifer, but knowing those things put you more at ease regardless. You were lost in your own head when Lucifer suddenly stood, “I have to go.”

You stood as well, “Wait what? Why? Lucifer, I have so many questions.”

He walked towards you and brought you into his arms. It was strange; you kept forgetting this was a dream because everything felt so real. You could feel his cool arms around you and how safe you felt in them; you could smell him, although you couldn’t place it, as it was something completely Lucifer. You only knew two things in that moment: how much you missed Lucifer and how much you wanted him to kiss you right now. Both of those things were equally amazing and surprising to you.

“You will wake soon. Come find me out there. Find Castiel, he will tell you the proper way to summon me. Knowing him, he is somewhat supportive of this since it’s Dad’s plan and will help you. The pain of the separation will get worse the longer we’re apart, so try to hurry,” he said with a smirk.

He looked down and cupped your face in both of his hands. You swore your heart stopped; he was going to kiss you. He leaned in slowly and you closed your eyes, waiting for his cool lips to meet yours and...

You woke up abruptly, shooting up into a sitting position with a gasp. You sat forward so suddenly you almost knocked foreheads with Sam who was sitting next to you on the bed. Thankfully he was able to scoot back in time to avoid the collision, but you woke up so abruptly that even Dean and Bobby, who were standing at the foot of the bed, took a step back as well.

You were sitting there breathing heavily for a few seconds before Sam broke the silence, “Y/N, what the hell just happened?”

Turning to look at your twin, you tried to come up with a deflection on the fly, “What do you mean? I took a nap and had a nightmare, not exactly a new occurrence.”

Sam turned to look at the two men at the foot of the bed before turning back to his sister, “Y/N/N we’ve been trying to wake you up for over an hour, nothing’s worked. When we finally gave up you woke up on your own.” He handed you the glass of water he’d placed on the bedside table when he first came upstairs.

“Yeah, so you wanna try the truth this time?” Dean snapped, folding his arms.

After taking a long drink, you dropped your head into your hands; everything that was going on your life was starting to give you a migraine. The last thing you wanted to tell your family was that you spent your time in dreamland with Lucifer. You rubbed at your temples while contemplating on how to explain what had happened, reluctantly deciding on the truth.

You looked to your family and began, “I came up here to lay down and must’ve fallen asleep because when I rolled over, Lucifer was there.”

Dean cursed and ran a hand over his face, but Bobby was confused. “I don’t understand. How exactly did that happen?”

“Angels can enter our subconscious mind while we’re dreaming. Cas has done it to Dean before and Lucifer did it to me soon after he took Nick as a vessel. Y/N, what did he say to you?”

“He explained the soulmate connection; what it takes to complete it and what will happen afterwards.”

“Yeah you complete it and you’re like, officially soulmates. Being separated from you wouldn’t weaken him,” explained Sam.

You looked at Sam and sighed, “That’s part of it.”

Dean walked forward, “Wait, part?? What the hell else is there? Cas only told us about the completing part.”

You looked at your brother incredulously, “Good to know you knew more about this thing that affects me than I did,” you fidgeted with your hands and took a deep breath. Telling your brothers the next part was not going to be easy, you partly expected Dean to actually explode.

“According to Lucifer, we complete the bond by, well, having sex,” you continued, causing everyone in the room to cringe at your statement. “But after that, apparently something happens, something mystical. He said that once the bond is completed, I will receive some of his grace and he’ll receive some of my humanity, causing us to become two of the most powerful beings in all of creation.”

You looked up from your fidgeting hands to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at you. It wasn’t really surprising; you did just drop a huge bomb in their lap. You were having trouble believing it yourself.

Dean suddenly swiped the books that were on the desk across the room onto the floor. You flinched at the sudden outburst. It wasn’t too surprising though; you knew Dean would be pissed.

“Hey, some of them books are one of a kind boy. I know you ain’t happy but if you ruin one of them books, I’ll put a boot in yer ass.” Bobby moved to pick up some of the books off of the floor, “I was buildin’ up a collection of books on archangels and this is what I got so far. How about instead of getting all hot and bothered, we do some research and try to find out what to do about this?”

Before anyone could move, Dean exploded. He turned to you, looking madder than you had ever seen him. “How are you so calm?? You just dropped that giant bomb on us so nonchalantly. Are you, like, okay with this or something?”

You stood from the bed, “Of course I’m not okay with this Dean! I don’t think any of us are okay with anything that has happened in the past year. But after talking to him, I think that I am Lucifer’s main focus, not the apocalypse. If we become as powerful as he says we will, we can strengthen Nick and he won’t need to take Sam as a vessel!

“And I’m human! Don’t you think maybe loving and being with a human will cause him to maybe not hate us as a species so much? Angels are real, Dean, which means God is real. I know this is a concept that both of us have struggled to come to terms with, but now? I don’t think we have a choice. He apparently made me for Lucifer and I can feel it. It’s not something we can just ignore and hope goes away. Being away from him much longer is going to start to be physically painful. We’re running out of options.”

Dean’s face was stone; he always was hard to read. You couldn’t tell what was running through his mind and you were worried. Bobby and Sam were silent near the door, watching the scene unfold before them. They had learned long ago to not get in between a Dean-Y/N fight; it was how Sam earned his first black eye as a kid.

The stone face was beginning to turn red, “No. No we are not out of options. Our original plan could still work. We can still shove the Devil back in the box!”

“And how do you think that would affect me, huh? I can already feel how being away from him is affecting me. Imagine if we put him back in the cage, what would happen to me? We’re Winchester’s, this is apparently our destiny!”

Dean scoffed, “Destiny?? God can take destiny and shove it right up his ass. You shouldn’t have any part in this, Y/N. I should’ve made you stay at Stanford when Dad went missing. This isn’t your fight; you aren’t even really a Winchester.”

“DEAN!”

You barely heard Sam’s exclamation. Your eyes went wide and your chest tightened as your worst fear became reality right in front of you. Ever since you found out you weren’t really their sister this was your greatest fear, that they’d drop you like yesterday’s newspaper.

The room was silent as they awaited your reaction. A single tear slipped down your face as you finally met Dean’s gaze again.

“Get out,” you said quietly.

You were too calm. It would’ve been better if you had started screaming at him. Bobby started herding Dean towards the door while Sam remained in the corner of the room. Dean had immediately regretted what he’d said as soon as it slipped past his lips. He turned and paused in the doorway, “Y/N/N-”

“I SAID GET OUT!” You grabbed the glass of water from the bedside table and launched it towards your brother. It impacted on the wall near his head, Dean ducking out of the doorway in the nick of time.

You were breathing heavily as the door closed. You walked up and leaned your forehead against it, tears streaming down your face when a hand landed on your shoulder. Spinning around you came face to face with Sam, who you had forgotten was still in the room.

“Please, just go Sam.”

“Dean didn’t mean that, Y/N. He’s just upset and worried. You ARE a Winchester, no matter if John and Mary are your parents or not. Obviously, you were meant to be in our family and as Bobby always says, family don’t end with blood.”

You smiled at your twin who returned it. In that moment you knew what you were going to do about the situation at hand. But you knew you couldn’t without saying something to Sam.

“Sam, you’re the best twin any girl could ever ask for. You’ve been my best friend my whole life and you were there for me through everything. I love you, Sam. So much. But you can’t be there for me through this. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too, Y/N/N. What’s going on? What’re you sorry for?”

“For this.” You opened the door and shoved your brother through, closing and locking it after he was out. To ensure your twin’s six-foot-four frame wouldn’t bust through, you shoved the dresser in front of it as well.

Standing there for a second, you just listened to Sam bang on the door, calling for you and then for Dean and Bobby. You knew you didn’t have much time before the three of them would be able to get the door open.

You closed your eyes and for a minute the room was bathed in silence. When you opened them again, you waited expectantly. Suddenly, there was a whoosh sound and you turned to the figure that had appeared in front of the window.

“Y/N, your brothers are on the other side of that door and very upset. What is happening? Why have you barricaded yourself from them and called me?” Cas squinted his eyes and tilted his head at you, a trait you had always found endearing.

“I need help Cas and I know you’re the only one who will help me.”

“What is it that you need?”

You took a deep breath and took a step towards the angel, “I need you to help me summon Lucifer.”

Read Chapter 11 Here

Tag List:

@lovesamwinchester @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @loco-latte @stuckinsaudi1 @sugar-nico @potato-extra-pot @humbledarkness @the-fiery-ghost @jo-wayward @streetghostfighter07

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 6

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 4.5k

⇝ (Updated) Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn't offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away... ...but who ever said that was going to stop you?

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, April 21

Your footsteps are quick and haste, sweat beginning to accumulate at your temples when the glowing numbers before you take their sweet time in lowering. The grip on your backpack only intensifies, glancing back and forth warily until a soft chime resonates.

Stepping inside, you whirl around and press your thumb against the silver pad for the sixth floor. The doors begin to shut when a voice suddenly calls out.

“Wait!” Your hand instantly shoots out with a grimace, only letting once the woman safely enters and the doors are shut close.

“Thank you.” She answers a bit breathless, but you can only offer a small smile in retaliation when you sink against the wall. She stares up at the bright screen, a frown on her lips.

“How long does it usually take to get to the third floor?”

You bite down on your lip, tightly grasping the steel railing. “F-Fifteen minutes.”

She catches the hesitance in your voice, eyes suddenly on alert.

“Are you alright?” When she inches closer, you flinch and hurriedly nod. “Are you sure? You look very pale.”

More colour disappears from your face at that, her keen eyes growing more and more concerned by the minute.

You hear a small ding and the doors open.

She swivels around, feet beginning to slowly move but not before she sends one final glance in your direction.

“Take care young man!”

The doors click and you sigh, slumping further against the steel wall. The numbers progress sluggishly, as if testing how much strength you have left. Once the noticeable giant red six appears, you haul up your plummeting form.

The doors open and you limp over as much as you can, punching your keys into the knob and twisting it instantly. Your backpack gets discarded onto the ground, not even being able to make it to your room when you collapse onto the couch.

Within a matter of seconds, your lids flutter shut.

***

You’re woken up with a wince, insides feeling like they had been churned and twisted. Curling up into a fetal position, sweat trickles down your forehead and your eyes scrunch up, a sudden wave of nausea not helping to relieve any of the symptoms.

Unraveling yourself bit by bit, you manage to flip yourself to face the ground, body suddenly jolting when you come face to face with a certain someone passed out on the ground.

He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, a headband keeping his black fluffy locks at bay and head resting against a pillow he’s snatched up. You speculate if he possibly came back from training and somehow just ended up sleeping next to you, but it’s a thought you can’t really contemplate any longer when a throbbing sensation churns up in your stomach.

You recoil back into that fetal position again, all hopes of trying to get up diminishing away. Biting down on your lower lip harshly, you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely meeting his shoulder.

“Taehyung…….Taehyung..….” You quietly whisper, another wave of cramps washing over you as you wince, “Tae…”

Your movements at best, get him to roll away until he’s completely out of your reach. A defeated groan escapes you, the throbbing only magnifying by the minute.

The rustling sound of keys jerks your head up, eyes frantically darting everywhere until they land on the door.

“Who–…oh.” Your eyes meet Jungkook, who leans against the door and is occupied with slipping his shoes off. There’s two bright green bags in his hands that seem to be overflowing with packets of food, but he strides over when he notices you on the couch and Taehyung sprawled all out on the floor.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but a sharp pulse hits your side and a shaky breath escapes you. “J-Jungkook…”

His attention is diverted over to you and you gesture towards the kitchen with your hand, “C-Can you get me my medicine? It should be in the top drawer.”

“Wha– are you okay?”

You peer up to see his furrowed brows when you curl up again, head quickly nodding in response. There’s still a frown on his lips when he glances down, eyes now narrowing at the soft snores escaping from the ground.

Jungkook pads over with his groceries to the man, who still appears to be very occupied with his drowsy state of slumber. Sticking the edge of his foot out, Jungkook pokes Taehyung mildly on the shoulder. To his dismay, he slurs some sluggish incoherent words in response before rolling over into the opposite direction.

“Is he dead or something?” Jungkook glances around for a moment, eyes fixating coincidentally on the location Taehyung has chosen to fall asleep on. His voice dips down, a harsh mutter of words passing through his lips.

“If he drools on my carpet…”

“He won’t.” Jungkook pauses when you interject mid-way, a soft reassuring smile on your lips. “I promise.”

He seems to be contemplating your response when another pricking sensation stabs you in the stomach again, words faltering as you weakly whisper, “Jungkook, m-my medicine…”

There’s still a level of reluctancy brewing within his eyes, but after a deep sigh, Jungkook heads for the kitchen. The groceries that had been gripped in his hands are discarded onto the counter, the drawer you had instructed to him being immediately yanked out. He rummages through it for a second with a frown, hands curling around the small box and leaning over to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

He glances down as he strolls back, brows contorting the longer he stares at it.

“Do you have a stomach ache Y/N?” He ponders, handing you the box and water as your eyes widen for a second. Letting out an uneasy laugh, you faintly smile.

“S-Something like that.”

You instantly take the medicine and chug the water down, handing it back to Jungkook who sets it on the table to the side. He moves to sit on the other end of the couch, seeming to relax though his gaze remains on Taehyung.

“How long has he been like that?

You shrug, “He was just sleeping on the ground when I woke up.”

Jungkook hums, but then he abruptly snaps up much to your own surprise. Darting over to the kitchen counter again, he rummages through the plastic of his grocery bags before a brightly red coloured packet and a box comes out into his hands. Coming back, your eyes remain bewildered until he couches down in front of Taehyung.

The brightly red packet is placed on the perch of Taehyung’s nose, your mouth dropping at the sight as Jungkook aimlessly shuffles back to his spot and reaches out for the remote.

There’s a small smile on his lips when he catches a glimpse of your astonished expression, “He’s been wanting ramen for days. It’ll wake him up faster.”

A faint chuckles escapes you at that, now flowing out freely once the medicine in your system begins to finally kick in. Sinking back into the couch, your lids flutter as you rest your head against the soft cushion.

“Did you eat something bad?” Jungkook questions, the box is in his hands open as he munches down on a cookie.

“Uh…yeah,” You clear your throat, “I should have been more careful.”

He hums, “Hopefully the medicine helps, you need to be good shape for our first game.”

You freeze, becoming wide-eyed as your thoughts come to a pause.

“H-Huh?”

“Yeah….” Jungkook arches up a brow. “It’s tomorrow.”

Your mind crashes with the information, thoughts suddenly spurting out of control. Jungkook’s words only work as a confirmation, because of course you know it’s tomorrow. You had bookmarked the date in your calendar beforehand and were slowly counting down the days in excitement. However, you’ve failed to realize the day had been drawing closer and closer, being too occupied with the radiating pain in your stomach and transcending aches writhing through your form.

You gulp, pupils beginning to shake and shoulders starting to quiver when you can already imagine the horror of trying to play in such a state, wondering if somehow you can just pull through for tomorrow and–

A loud yawn breaks the silence, disrupting your chaotic thinking as a head of tousled black hair straightens up.

“WOAH!”

The red packet falls onto the ground, strands of Taehyung’s hair sticking up in unusual ways and hand pressed against his heart as if he had just gone through a heart attack. He narrows his eyes, staring at the bizarre presence of the ramen before him.

Jungkook keenly watches him, leaning against his hand with a smirk. “Rise and shine dear prince.”

“You got it?!” Taehyung grabs onto the packet with both hands, crinkling the metallic wrapping in the process as he continues to gaze at it. He hurriedly flips it over, eyes searching in wonder, “And it’s the extra spicy flavour!”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to him, eyes darting over to his phone as he occupies himself – though there is a small smile lingering over his lips.

A wide grin stretches across Taehyung’s face, eyes suddenly landing onto you and morphing into concern.

“Oh! Y/N!”

He grabs onto your hand, “Are you feeling better? You were shaking a lot when I came back…”

“I’m alright Taehyung.” You quickly reassure him, however your head still wanders over to Jungkook’s reminder of a very important event tomorrow, not settled down onto a proper solution yet.

Tenderly watching Taehyung jump over to Jungkook with an especially generous hug, you can only hope to yourself that tomorrow will be okay.

***

It’s quite simple.

In the beginning, basketball was a mere game to you.

It’s a distinctive memory, and it started off how usually most new things do.

A peak in interest at a time you had least expected it.

You had been going about with your day, everything seeming to be as ordinary as it could be. That is, until a now familiar, but back then more much foreign orange ball rolled over to your feet.

Your eyes blankly stare at it, lips sullen. When you lean over to grasp onto it, the grainy texture meeting your fingers, there is nothing but mere curiosity dwelling in your eyes. It’s only until you hear the clearing of a throat, a girl around your age having her hand planted against her hip and one outstretched, face unamused that it withers away. A group formulates behind her, all staring at you in anticipation.

The ball tumbles towards the ground, bouncing off the rough surface and into the girl’s hands. She spins around without giving you a second look, the group behind her now fluttering with smiles once she returns.

You pout, feet slowly padding away but eyes still glued to how the girl begins to bounce the ball, passing it over to someone else. Only being able to catch a handful of glimpses through the tall metal wired fence, your steps halt when the second girl closes in on the basket, adding strength into her legs and shooting the ball outwards.

It flawlessly lands through the hoop, a roar of cheers echoing through her nearby players as they pat her on the back and congratulate her.

After that, you remain crouching in the same spot you faltered in. Simply and quietly observing from the cloaked shadows of the fence like a figured being discovering light for the first time.

Unintentionally, the observation ignites a spark, a small flicker of a fire that only seems to grow as time passes, becoming never ending through the desire to soar higher and higher.

It’s quite simple – and yet when you enter that roaring gymnasium, thundering voices bouncing off all the walls, you know that you’ve reached a point in time that is not as simple anymore.

“Over here.” The captain of your team gestures all of you towards him with his hands, a cardboard box resting at his feet. Within an instant, he’s pulled out sets of black sleeveless shirts, mumbling in a low voice.

“Jaebum, Hoseok, Taehyung….” The shirts go flying from his hands, each one meeting a different member’s outstretched hands.

“Y/N.” You react a tad late when he sends one your way, the delicate satin fabric meeting your fingertips. The front has bright swirls of purple, your team name highlighted with white undertones and grey prints.

Flipping over the shirt, there’s a row of giant orange numbers spelling your name, alongside with your assigned number.

“Seven…” You whisper, gazing at the number in puzzlement.

“Make sure you keep them safe.” Yoongi announces, ushering Namjoon over. He clears his throat, capturing everyone’s attention over immediately.

“Since this is going to be your first game, I’m sure you’re all nervous.” He chuckles, “I am too, but we made sure to prepare you all very well for this.”

He sticks his hand out, five fingers raised.

“We’ll have five players on the court at a time, that means ten in total during the game. We’ve already decided on which players will be on the court for today's game.”

A list is pulled out by Yoongi, who hands it over to Namjoon, “Jungkook, Taehyung, Jackson and Y/N.” He makes eye contact with the group, “You guys will be playing for this game.”

Your form stiffens, a forced smile arising on your lips as a hand unconsciously hovers over your stomach.

Yoongi is standing right next to you and it would have been a perfect opportunity. With one simple turn, you could do a swap that would have pulled you out instead of keeping you anchored to the situation at hand.

One simple turn.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to do it – not when there’s a multitude of flashbacks playing in your head, one that heavily consists of a poorly done try out.

Sucking in a deep breath, you move to stand beside Taehyung and the others. He darts his head around, gaze confused.

“Who’s our fifth player?

There’s a giant smug smile on Yoongi’s lips, sauntering over to stand in the line-up as he carries a basketball in his hands.

“I am.”

Your eyes widen, focused on how Yoongi moves to the middle of the court and beckons the rest of you to follow. Your line of sight briefly changes to the opposing team, who are patiently waiting for your team’s arrival.

With the basketball in one hand, Yoongi reaches out to shake the other’s team captain’s hand, a mutual look residing in their eyes. He then hands the ball over to the referee, signalling for all of you to get into your positions behind him. Jungkook and Taehyung move to stand on either side of him, you and Jackson heading for the back.

The referee holds up the basketball in his right hand, left hand curling around his whistle. Fisting your palms, you plant yourself firmly into position – mind empty as your quick eyes scan over the court.

“First team to three points wins.”

The referee blows his whistle.

The best way to describe the aftermath is a complete blur. Everyone sprints simultaneously, heading out in contrasting directions as you try to navigate where the ball has disappeared to. It’s only until a head of maroon hair darts out, expertly dribbling around the players surrounding him.

His shoes loudly squeak when he runs into the other’s team captain, letting out a grunt when the blockade the captain creates is challenging for him to bypass. However, that’s when Yoongi decides on accelerating his pace, generating enough momentum to breeze by the other captain as the ball is thrown over to an already prepared Jungkook.

He quickly seizes it, eyes suddenly alarmed with the overflowing amount of players rushing at him. Darting his gaze over, a tick escapes him when Taehyung and Jackson are buried in a sea of the other team's players and the captain is right on Yoongi’s toes.

You hastily glide over, finding a lucky opening at Jungkook’s back and outstretching your hands. Jungkook catches on right away, jerking over to the side and thrusting the ball in your direction with the little room he has.

Your hands slap against the basketball, form speeding up rapidly when you can easily swoop through the overshadowing players around you and head for the basket. But when you’re only a mere inches away, there’s a stab of pain on your side, something that causes you to harshly bite down on your bottom lip as tears well up in your eyes.

Your form curls in on itself, hands quivering as you try to clutch the basketball harder – but your attempts prove to be futile when the opposing team’s captain lunges straight for you, knocking the ball out of your hands.

The impact causes you to wince again, eyes now becoming blurry but still racing over to claim the basketball again. Jackson suddenly emerges in front of you, using the same tactic the captain did to steal the ball away from him.

He goes full ham, dribbling the ball away at an insane speed that leaves you perplexed, mouth falling completely agape when he manages to make it over to the basket and shoot.

The ball practically flies from his hands, falling into the basket as a loud cheer echoes through the room. Jackson fondly smiles, a huffing Min Yoongi patting him on the back.

You’re able to muster enough energy to send him a content smile, breathing heavily as you drag yourself over to your old position. Though the action doesn’t escape a certain someone’s eyes; Yoongi’s heavy gaze lingering on you for a moment, before he races over to take the centre position again.

The whistle is blown again, and the blur of players occurs once more. This time Yoongi manages to slap the basketball away, throwing it in Taehyung’s direction who catches it after it pounds against the ground. He spins around, eyes meeting Jungkook’s and passing it over to him.

The next set of minutes have your eyes harshly widening, disbelief crossing your features.

All the players charge at him at the same time, completely blocking all of his shots. Yoongi and Taehyung bolt over as Jackson hovers near the hoop, eyes on sight for any long shots Jungkook can make. It seems he’s not left with many options through, expression growing increasingly frustrated by the minute.

The basketball is knocked out of his hands, one of the opposing team’s members accelerating towards your hoop. You’re quick to move on your feet, dashing over to block any potential shots but the lack of team support doesn’t leave you with much hope.

The basketball enters your hoop, and the referee announces that you’ve both been tied.

Huffing even more, Yoongi resumes back in position and glances at his team.

“It’s only a tie, don’t mope.” When you look up, you notice his eyes pause for a moment before turning away completely.

The whistle is blown for a third time, the opposing team grabbing onto the basketball right away. All of your team players rush at them at once and Yoongi attempts to block off the captain by himself, granting the rest of you the opportunity to apprehend the basketball.

Taehyung manages to after quite a lot of attempts, his teeth clenching when his feet roughly pound against the floor as the basketball meets Jackson’s hands. He whirls around, dribbling the basket but suddenly meeting a blockade of three members.

Making a quick call, the basketball is headed for your direction and you hastily grab onto it, eyes coming into contact with Yoongi’s. Your feet squeak when he gives you a nod, legs tightening when you jump, the ball flying towards the basket.

The ball is slapped away.

Jackson’s blockade catches onto it, hurriedly making use of the newly acquired opportunity to pass the ball between themselves and make it towards your defenseless hoop. The ball plunges in, their overflowing and buzzing audience spreading cheers through the large gymnasium.

You pant, sweat trickling down your neck and soaking your new black jersey as you plant your hands against your knees. Your gaze falters up for a second, grimly regarding how the two glows so brightly for the opposing team, the luminescent and stagnant number one silently mocking you.

Acknowledging that you’re near the tip of the iceberg now, you let out a shaky breath as you straighten up. From a distance away, you notice everyone in position except for a crucial member of your team, someone your wandering eyes meet when he stands near Namjoon and whispers into his ear.

After a moment, he signals the members over. You pad over hurriedly, unfortunately realizing that the members were already departing by the time you reached them. Your lost eyes glance around, but Yoongi simply shakes his head and signals for you to get back into the resting position.

Shutting your eyes, you exhale and plant your feet firmly onto the ground. The whistle blows and Yoongi immediately catches the ball, whirling around and passing the ball over to Taehyung – who practically flies over to the opposing team’s basket. Meeting a barricade, he glances over at Jungkook and chucks the ball.

Jungkook quickly slides across the court, bouncing the ball over to Jackson who eyes down the man stealthily approaching behind him. When the ball is sent over to Yoongi, he focuses in your direction.

“Y/N!”

You flinch when he calls out your name, noticing the chain the members had created lead to one thing in the end–

You.

The basketball is hurled towards your direction, hands snatching onto it. You swivel around as your eyes try to determine who to pass it over to now, only to realize that you’re the one standing right beside the opposing team’s basket.

Eyes lighting up in relation, you don’t dwell on it any further when you jump and the ball goes straight into the hoop.

A loud range of ecstatic voices cry behind you, Taehyung and Jungkook rushing over with howls of encouragement. You smile, but your eyes are more focused on the way Yoongi seems to eye the distance from the centre to the hoop; the dots slowly beginning to connect for you.

The team is now tied – two to two on the gigantic board displayed close to the bottom of the ceiling. Meaning whoever makes it with this shot, wins the game.

A good glance around reminds you that although your team is highly motivated, everyone is certainly reaching their breaking point. Even Yoongi and Namjoon have been keen and through with your practices, they were also adamant about not wasting any energy and granted you with breaks that many of you were grateful for.

However, it’s crystal clear when your gaze roams, seeing the exhausted eyes, the way everyone’s hair and jerseys are thoroughly soaked with heavy breaths escaping them, that this final match will either make it or break it for you.

Clenching your fists, the whistle is blown for the last time.

Again, Yoongi replicates what he did last time, hand shooting out to grab the basketball before the other captain even has a chance to. Instead of whirling around like before though, he dribbles into the opposite direction and passes the ball to Jackson. When Jackson begins dribbling around and dodging attacking players, you slowly linger closer and closer to the opposite team’s basket, eyes carefully navigating through the horde of opposing players mixed in with your own team.

Jackson passes over to Jungkook, who quickly darts to Taehyung and bounces it over before he’s completely blocked. Taehyung grabs onto it, legs moving faster by the minute when all of the players are occupied except for one.

You promptly get into stance when Taehyung approaches, though you realize that the opposing team has fully understood your strategy. They intercept him right away, knocking the ball right out of his hands.

However, before they even get the chance to claim the basketball again, you hurriedly rush over and intercept instead. Gritting your teeth, there’s water being drawn to your eyes when the exertion of running overtakes you again, but you push the pain away when you draw near the basket.

Being fully aware that they’re players right behind you and ready to snatch up any opportunity of a mishap, you tightly grasp the basketball and angle yourself for the hoop.

Your breath is stuck in between your throat and lungs when the ball goes soaring, eyes glued to it’s every movement when it plunges into the hoop.

Your knees almost wobble, feeling like jelly when there’s a thunderous roar of screams behind you, the glowing two for your team being replaced with a three instead. Adrenaline overtakes your system and buzzes through your ears, breaking you out of your daze when you’re suddenly being lifted by a group of familiar members.

Shock crosses you but is soon exchanged for a hearty smile, a stream of water leaving your eyes. You’re placed down, each of your members grinning at you with huge smiles that makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Namjoon softly smiles; hands crossed behind his back as he watches his team celebrate your victory. Yoongi dashes over beside him to grab onto a towel, wiping the lingering sweat dripping from his face with a light smile looped on his lips.

“Good call.” Namjoon mutters, eyes locking with his, “Even I wouldn’t been able to catch onto that.”

Yoongi knows exactly what Namjoon is referring to, the former’s memory recalling the way the captain rushed towards him immediately when the opposing team had scored two points.

“Change the strategy.” Yoongi breathes out, but Namjoon gawks at him.

“What? Why?” He eyes the glowing scoreboard, “It can still work Yoongi, we just need to find an opening and–“

Yoongi hurriedly shakes his head, gesturing over to your direction. “Something’s wrong, I don’t know what but change it so that he’s in the front.”

Namjoon’s mouth drops, eyes lingering over to you for a second. You looked perfectly fine and well to him – but he knows that if Yoongi is bringing something to his attention then it has to be something crucial enough to be taken into consideration.

“Alright. Call the boys over.” With a nod, Yoongi’s one gesture draws everyone near. As Namjoon explains the new chain strategy, Yoongi’s eyes linger over to you. He watches how the opposing team is eyeing down the team’s sudden formation, their gazes barely acknowledging you.

Yoongi smiles.

What a truly foolish mistake for them to make.

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