#(i’m so sorry i’m late this week in my defence i was sick)

[laylakeating]

LAYLA KEATING All American, 6.05

[saphirered]

We've all seen fics where Caleb's SO dies and gets resurrected, and we seen Caleb accidentally hurting his SO, but what about Caleb accidentially killing his SO? Maybe Reader got burned by one of his fire attacks? The revival's successful, but damn, the angst.

Angst was requested and angst you shall receive. I hope this is to your liking. 😘

Trigger warning for death and grief themes.

Caleb sits on his knees, head bowed, whispering pleas in Zemnian to the gods, the world, to you, your cold hand encased between his own, occasionally pressing a kiss to it in the hopes you’d just wake up. But you’re not going to wake up. Not in the way you would in the morning when you’ve had a particularly late night and Caleb has to drag you out of bed, you being stubborn or pretending to still be asleep so you maybe could convince him to join you for a little more. Not in the way after you got knocked out in a fight, when you sit up and rub your eyes with a grunt like usual. Nothing within his capabilities will wake you up.

So here Caleb sits, begging for it to be a nightmare, some sick and twisted tricks played on his mind but there’s no denying this is real and this is the truth. You’re dead. You’re dead and it’s his fault. You ended up as collateral damage in his reckless attempt to kill the creature. You got stuck in the crossfire of that. He hadn’t realised you were doing so bad already, you even sent him a wink right before when he asked if you were okay. Why did you? Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t? Why did you lie? Not lie, omitted the truth.

He knew exactly why you did it but that doesn’t make it any easier. You’d known the other’s weren’t doing great and barely holding on already. You were severely outmatched and couldn’t get away from the creature. Not without it chasing after you and running you in an even more perilous situation. Anything Caleb could do would affect anyone close to the creature. With Yasha having dragged Beau out of the fray you were the only one left to hold it at bay while the clerics worked on patching them up, Fjord and Veth offering them cover. You were the final line of defence. At the end of the day you had to keep the clerics alive.

Caleb took a calculated risk. A fireball to send the creature dropping into the ruined depths of Aeor. He had tried to keep you out of the range but wouldn’t have been able to strike the creature without putting you at risk. The spell worked and the creature got hit with full force. It was your attack right before the fireball struck that had send it stumbling, then with the blast, it lost its footing and stumbled off the edge.

But you too, dropped. and when you did, the creature’s tail lashed out, grabbing onto your body, dragging you with it. The creature had hit the platform below in its fall and the impact had made it release you, saving you from the full drop. Caleb had rushed to the edge, fear, pain, anger and guilt riddling his mind thinking he had truly lost you but there you were, bloodied, bruised, broken and burned. Because of him. All because of him. How could he have been so stupid and reckless. When he brought your body back to the others, he wasn’t quick enough. You’d already faded into the cold embrace of the Raven Queen and the clerics had expended their last resources.

So that leaves Caleb here, sitting at your side a day after you died, body preserved by the graces of Caduceus and the Wildmother. The clerics set up their ritual, working around him and you as the others help where they can. Beau and Veth had tried to console him, tell him it wasn’t his fault and if he hadn’t they might all have been dead right now. He appreciates his friends trying but it’s of no use. He already made up his mind and it’s not going to change anything. You died because of him. He murdered you and how is that any different than his actions in the past? How does that make him any different than the lives he’s taken in the clutches of his former mentor? Is there truly no redemption for him? You’d slap him for even thinking that way.

“Mr. Caleb? Why don’t you try talking to them? Persuasion has worked in the past to coax someone back.” Caduceus places a hand on the wizard’s shoulder but it barely registers. Yet the firbolg knows they did not fall upon deaf ears when the whispers stop for just a moment.

“I-. I do not think they’d want to hear from their murderer.” Speaking the words make them so much more painful. By the looks of it, Beau is ready to unleash in a degrading rant about how wrong Caleb is, breaking him apart only build him back up but she’s held at bay by Yasha. This is not the time and place. Caduceus doesn’t claim to know what Caleb’s going through, nor may he be the brightest mind here but he understands and can empathise.

“I know no matter what I say it won’t change your feelings so instead I will offer you this. You owe it to them to try. Not for what happened here but for the countless times they’ve been there for you, have had your back, and for the unconditional love they’ve given you. You owe them to try.” The wizard looks up over his shoulder to the firbolg, pain in his eyes, and the trails of silent tears that have long since run out. Caduceus is right. He owes it to you to save you and right now it is within his power to try. If he doesn’t, if he fails he’ll have condemned you to this fate. If he succeeds with this part, he’ll be able to look into your eyes again. You may never forgive him but he hopes to see you smile, hear your voice even if just once more.

Caleb nods looking back at you, bringing your limp fingers up to his lips and pressing them against your knuckles. He takes in a deep breath and tries to find the right words as Caduceus steps back. What are the right words? He cannot afford to fuck this up. He cannot afford to fail. He must succeed. He must.

“I know I might be the last person you want to hear right now. I want you to know I’m sorry-“ Caleb’s voice cracks as he feels the eyes of the others on him. He brushes some of your hair away from your forehead, running his thumb across your cheek.

“I don’t-uh. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I can do this. You’re always here for me during difficult times. You’d put your hand on my cheek and tell me ‘If anyone can do it it’s you, Caleb Widogast. You could move mountains if you set your will to it. Now stop being stubborn before I slap some sense in you.’ but now you’re not here to tell me that. You’ve shown me there’s a world beyond the walls I put up, that there is a light at the end of that tunnel, but now I cannot help but feel the world has grown dull, the walls are caving in, and that light is fading.”

“I have no right, no right to ask you this, but I need you to save my world one more time. So please, I beg of you. Do not leave me to brave this world without you.” The weight of his heart heavy on his conscious. Caleb feels a pressure causing a ringing in his ears. He’s so focussed on you, he cannot take his eyes off you. Not even when the others do their part in the ritual. He realises this pressure is coming from the effects of the spell to bring you back. He holds his breath, not daring to take in oxygen if only to savour the moment, hoping it will not pass, that for just a little longer he can hold on to the hope you’re coming back instead of having that hope crushed by a potential failure.

The pressure fades but nothing happens. Nothing changes. It’s silent as everyone waits for something, anything to happen. That moment alone feels like an eternity of suspense. Caleb finds himself whispering prayers and pleas in Zemnian again, your hand clasped between his own as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly to live through the memories of you, preserve them for the rest of his life just in case because he refuses to forget even a single one of them. He’s so consumed in his own mind he doesn’t notice warmth returning to your fingers. He doesn’t notice your chest beginning to rise and fall. Caleb’s pleas continue.

“Would you mind translating that? I think my brain got a bit scrambled.” Caleb freezes and his eyes open. Your eyes are closed but your brow is furrowed. Furrowed in discomfort. Not sleeping and not void of your usual expressions. Colour has returned to your limbs and face and no longer dulled. Caleb falls silent in disbelief, frozen in place and mind blank.

“Caleb?” You speak his name, peaking through one eye to see the wizard in his disheveled state. You sit up, grunting in pain. Apparently being brought back from the dead isn’t kind on your physical form, not even mentioning the exhaustion weighing on your mind. You could sleep for a couple of hours… or days… or weeks… You could do with a break really. All of you could. You nudge Caleb’s head up by his chin allowing your fingers to slide onto his cheek.

“Blink twice if you need me to get Beauregard to slap you back into reality.” You muster a smile as you brush your thumb over his cheekbone. Caleb doesn’t understand how you’re not recoiling in disgust or lashing back in anger. He doesn’t understand how you can look at him with love and kindness.

“I’m so sorry. Please-“ Caleb goes off in a spur of apologies, begging for your forgiveness.

“Caleb, I love you but you really need to stop. This is a problem for another day.”

“You died. I killed you. How can you even look at me like you do?”

“So what? I died. I’m here now. I got better. Now preferably I’d like to not die again, some things are beyond our control. And if you need some kind of reassurance; Veth killed Cad that one time and he doesn’t hate her.” Veth yells a ‘hey’ in defence while you earn a chuckle from the firbolg. You know Caleb isn’t just going to take your word for it and you’re also not going to make anyone buy you’re totally okay with just dying and being brought back to life because you’re not but you also know that you can’t blame Caleb for being a factor in what happened when you yourself were aware of the risks of the situation you were in. You made your own bet and it didn’t pay off but all your friends are still alive and well, Caleb’s still alive and well and that alone makes it worth the risk you took.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” Caleb breathes as he pulls you into his arms with a gentleness as if you’re made of porcelain, or will fade out of existence if he holds on too tightly.

“I think I have a pretty good estimate but we can compare notes later if you’d prefer.” You pull back enough to look at Caleb’s face, brush aside some of the red strands and softly place your lips on his. It’s not a heated kiss but one filled with emotion and a desperation no less. Neither of you thought you’d get to be in each other’s arms again but here you are despite everything. Maybe your work here isn’t done yet. You still got some asses to kick.

[arvinsescape]

Late.

A/N: As always i hope you enjoy. First time writing genuine arsehole Tom. You can now read a follow up if you want here.

Summary: Tom’s late for dinner, reader has had enough. Tom makes a mistake but it all works out in the end.

W/C: 2.2K

Warnings: Swearing.

“Tom Holland spotted with new girlfriend after breakup with ex.”

“Tom Holland on night out with new girlfriend.”

“Is Tom Holland finally over his ex?”

You saw the headlines and wanted to throw your phone at a wall. You and Tom had dated for two years and broken it off a couple of months ago, it was sad and it was messy a row where you both said things you shouldn’t have.

“Seriously Tom?” You shouted as you threw your hands up, voice hoarse from all the shouting.

“I was late, yes. I get it you were left hanging but I was busy and didn’t finish on time. You need to get some perspective.” He shouted.

“I’m not even upset about that, a quick text would have been nice. But no, you left me sat there like a complete fucking idiot.” You fired back and he rolled his eyes.

“I have had a stressful enough day as it is. I don’t need you adding to it. You’re behaving like a bratty child and you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

“Seriously? That’s you’re defence? I knew what I was getting into, so what, I’m just supposed to accept it?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, you know you could really use getting some more friends. You can’t just rely on me all the time.” He snapped and your heart dropped. You had friends, but not many, you’d been bullied a lot through high school and therefore kept a small circle of people you trusted and he knew that.

“They were busy.” You fired back.

“Were they? Or are they just sick of listening to you go on?” He shouted and that stung, it was a huge insecurity of yours, you always feared people didn’t truly like you.

“You know what Tom? You are so far stuck up your own arse that it’s embarrassing. I’m glad you and your foul fucking mood didn’t make it tonight.” You shouted, you were close to tears but you didn’t want to cry in front of him, not right now.

“Yeah well at least I fucking do something with my life.” He shouted back and you couldn’t stop the tears at that. You’d recently turned down a promotion to move to New York so that you could see him as often as you still did, it felt like he was throwing it back in your face.

“You are a vain, arrogant, selfish, stuck up arsehole.” You said back as your voice cracked, his eyes instantly snapped to yours as he heard your voice crack. His anger washed away completely as he realised exactly what it was he’d just said to you. He took a careful step towards you as he spoke.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” You cried when you heard the softness in his voice. A stark contrast from seconds ago.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me you arsehole. I’m going to stay at Lizzie’s.” You said as you picked up your bag, going into the bedroom and stuffing whatever clothes touched your hands into it, he was hot on your trail.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was out of line, I’m sorry.” He kept trying. When you were done you turned to look at him.

“Those were possibly some of the worst things you could have said to me. Thank you for playing on the insecurities that I told you about in confidence. I greatly fucking appreciate it.” You snapped, your tears were unstoppable and he felt awful.

“Y/N please. Just calm down and we’ll talk about it yeah?” He was crying now and you turned to make your way towards the front door. You turned to look at him one last time before you spoke.

“Until you’ve sorted your attitude out, I don’t wanna see you.” You said as you slammed the door shut and left for Lizzie’s.

He had tried to call you, many times after that. He showed up at Lizzie’s a week later but she wouldn’t let him in. You cried for weeks and just as you thought you were getting better, that you weren’t missing him the same, you saw that he had a new girlfriend. You’d noticed he’d tried to ring you a couple of times this morning but you’d ignored it. Your twitter mentions had gone through the roof for the first time since you’d split and you couldn’t help but look at them.

Dam that girl looks like Y/N but less attractive.

Y/N is naturally prettier I have to say.

Looking at the pictures, I think it’s just a hook up.

She’s far prettier than Y/N, well done Tommy.

That girl legit looks the spit of Y/N, I don’t think he’s over her.

It looks like Tom took Y/N and upgraded her.

I feel bad for the amount of hate Y/N’s getting, leave her be guys, we don’t know why they split up or how she’ll be feeling about this, I know I’d be heartbroken.

You furrowed your brows as you opened one of the pictures and in all fairness they weren’t wrong, she held a lot of similarities but she was far prettier and it made your heart ache. You still liked that some of his fans were supportive, some had been quite defensive of you. Tom had been vague about why you’d split up but never once denied it was his fault.

Then a tweet caught your eye because you noticed that Harry had retweeted it.

Please don’t bother Y/N with this. We know Tom said it was his fault as to why they broke up. We know that they loved each other and I think Tom might have made a mistake. Please respect that they are both still probably hurting and we should leave them alone.

Why was Harry retweeting something about this? Sure, he’d been supportive of you but not in public. Please respect that they are both still probably hurting. Was Tom still hurting? Apart from this morning he hadn’t tried to reach out at all in three weeks, you thought that was his way of saying he was over it. That was until you opened your voicemail and saw that Tom had left one last night. You sighed as you brought the phone up to your ear.

“Hi baby, sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t call you that anymore.” He was drunk and he was crying, that much you could tell. “Erm, you didn’t pick your phone up, not that I blame you. I wouldn’t if you said that shit to me. Listen, you’re gonna see some stuff tomorrow that I’m not proud of but you probably won’t get the whole truth and I want you to know what happened.” He sniffled a few times and your heart ached, he’d wanted to tell you first and you’d not answered.

“So I got really drunk tonight, as you can probably tell. I met this girl and she looked like you, she wasn’t you but she looked like you. She was really nice actually but that’s beside the point. You’re probably gonna see the pictures of me kissing her outside that club and I’m sorry. I know we’re not together but I haven’t moved on and I don’t want you to think I have.” You were crying as you listened to him, he sounded like he was in so much pain.

“I still love you, like a lot and I’m sorry. I brought her here and when we were about to sleep together I couldn’t do it. She was in our bed Y/N/N, that’s your place, not hers and I just couldn’t do it. I cried and she was really nice, she told me to call you. So here I am. Well, she said I should call you tomorrow when I was sober but I was hoping I’d hear your voice. Your voicemail will have to do I suppose. I love you and I miss you and I’m sorry I was such a prick. I didn’t mean it.”

You ended the call because you couldn’t listen anymore, he sounded like he was in so much pain and it made your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. He really was hurting as much as you were, maybe more. You were pulled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzed. Tom. You hesitated for a second before you answered.

“Hey.” You said in the best voice of happiness you could muster.

“Y/N? I didn’t think you’d answer.” He sniffled, was he crying again?

“Yeah, I erm, I got your voicemail.” You said and you heard as he let out a sob.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair, I didn’t mean to spill all that, I only rang you with the intent of explaining what you’ve probably seen this morning. I shouldn’t have done that, I know you’re trying to move on so I shouldn’t have told you that I still love you.” He rambled through his sobs and your heart broke.

“Tom, it’s okay. I think I can forgive you for leaving an emotional voicemail.” You laughed through your tears and you heard him let out a choked laugh too.

“Can I see you? You don’t have to come here and I don’t have to come to you but can we meet somewhere neutral please? Even if it’s just for closure?” He was begging and you knew deep down you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

“Okay. How about that coffee shop we both like?” You said.

“Okay, gimme an hour?” The hope in his voice was enough to lift your heart slightly.

An hour later and you found yourself awkwardly sat at a table with Tom as you sipped your coffee.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean it. I shouldn’t have said what I said, it was so fucking wrong of me. I shouldn’t have used your insecurities like that, it was a dick move. You’re right I was being an arrogant, selfish arsehole and you deserved better, I understand why you left me.” He said as he looked at you, you could see the tears brimming and watched as he swallowed them back.

“It hurt Tom.” You said in response. “But you weren’t completely wrong either, I did rely on you too much, I pushed you harder than I should have at times and I know how hard you work.”

“Y/N, you just wanted me to be there when I said I was going to be, that’s not relying on me too much, that’s just asking me to be your boyfriend.” He sighed again.

“But you were right, there was always a chance that what would happen happened and I should have been more understanding.” You said as you looked at him again.

“I should have sent you a text and for that I’m sorry but it wasn’t like it was the first time it happened. I was so wrapped up in the film that I didn’t think much past it and I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have thrown you turning down that promotion at you either, I know you did that for us.” He said and he meant it, you knew he did, he may have been a fantastic actor but he always had this look in his eye when he was being completely genuine and vulnerable, one he couldn’t fake.

“It’s okay. I think we both needed to learn some things when we broke up.” You sighed as you sat in silence again, it felt more comfortable this time.

“I’m sorry about last night, the voicemail, the girl. All of it.” He said.

“It’s okay. In fairness you don’t have to apologise about the girl, you are single.” You tried to joke and he tensed.

“No but I didn’t want you to think I’d moved on, you deserve better than that. As for being single, please don’t remind me.” He huffed slightly, you could see the pain, it was all over his face. You missed him dearly and he seemed so genuine about how sorry he was. You sighed before you spoke up again.

“How about I let you take me to dinner tomorrow night? You know start over?” You mumbled and his face lit up in the most genuine way you’d ever seen.

“Seriously? You wanna try again?” He was smiling now and you realised how much you’d missed seeing it.

“I’m prepared to try again but take it slowly.” You admitted.

“Whatever you want.” He was nodding profusely, it almost looked comical. “What time? I won’t be late I promise.”

“7?” You asked as you stood to collect your bag.

“I’ll be there at ten to.” He smiled as you made you’re way out of the coffee shop.

[jisungsmochi]

i’ve got this friend - mark lee

i’ve got this friend - mark lee 

based on the (unreleased) song by 5SOS 

neighbour & friend! mark + a very oblivious y/n (female)

word count: 1.7k 

summary: after a rumour stirs that you have a secret admirer, your neighbour and friend, mark lee begins to drop some, not so subtle, clues on who it might be. will his mission be a success?

//

mark hated lee haechan more than anything in the world right now. the little menace decided to spread the rumour that you had a secret admirer. mark was in panic mode, wanting nothing more than to roll up in a ball and cry.

“what the hell, man? what if she finds out?” mark groaned, holding the bridge of his nose, as haechan continued to giggle.

“would that be so bad? you’ve been pining over her since you became neighbours. isn’t it time for you to finally tell her how you feel?”

“what if she’s disappointed?” haechan immediately stopped laughing, furrowing his eyebrows at his glum faced friend.

“but what if she’s over the moon? you always look for the bad in these situations. you’re confessing to her, you have to” mark knew inside that he was partially right. it had been almost two years since he developed a friendship with you. although you weren’t attached to the hip, you were both friendly towards eachother and spent a fair amount of time together. haechan claimed he had a fool proof plan to ‘get the girl’ so let the games begin...

“hey! y/n, wait up” mark caught up with you as you exited your house.

“oh goodmorning mark” you smiled as you walked over to him, continuing to walk alongside him on your way to school.

“i gotta tell you something” he looks away from you, eyes drawn to the ground. you silently urge him to continue,

“i heard that someone likes you”

you immediately stop in your tracks, your face contorting into confusion yet also, excitement.

“really? do you know who it is?” you trailed slowly behind him, he didn’t even notice you had stopped briefly.

“uh yeah, i’ve got this friend, he doesn’t really want me to tell you who he is yet” you felt your heart sink, is this all some sick prank?

“mark, you don’t have to feed into these rumours-“

“no i’m being serious, you have an admirer” he softly smiled, making you feel slightly more at ease. mark had never lied to you before, why would he start now? you decided not to pry him anymore, wanting to keep this to yourself for the time being. of course you were curious as to who it was, but maybe keeping their identity hidden is giving them the courage to contact you eventually. you were hopeful, and so was mark. he wanted nothing more than for you to make your way to him.

“so is there anything else you wanna tell me about said admirer? is he tall? do i know him?” you begin to become impatient as you sat across from mark at your usual lunch table.

“um he’s kinda my size? i guess. you might know him, he does go to our school” you begin to turn around, scanning your eyes over the courtyard.

“don’t look now! he might be looking” mark hurriedly spoke, not thinking about his words.

“oh so he’s close to where we are?” you grew even more curious than before. you were going to get mark lee to crack, it was the only way.

‘oh fuck’ he thought to himself. what is he going to do now?

//

“mark, it’s honestly killing me! you really can’t tell me who he is? is he really that shy? or am i just intimidating?” you frown as you sit on mark’s couch in his basement. he invited you over sometimes whenever he was bored and needed someone to go over some of his song ideas with. mark was in a band with some of his close friends, they didn’t really have a proper name yet, and had barely played infront of people.

“you’re not intimidating at all! you’re one of the kindest people i know” he quickly jumps to your defence. he hesitates for a moment before continuing,

“well he plays the bass guitar, and oh! he thinks you would like him better if he had a car, kinda feels like a loser for not having one” your mind begins to wind, who do you know that can play bass and has no car...

well jeno was the official bassist of their band...and you remember him complaining at one of their practices that he was late because he had to take the bus. but really? did lee jeno have a crush on you? that seemed unrealistic. you barely had any interactions with him, only greeting him nicely whenever you tuned in to their practices. was mark trying to set you guys up or something?

“is it someone from your band?” mark froze, not expecting you to catch on so quickly. (not like he was being so discrete either)

“uh maybe, maybe not. i don’t know” he begins to ramble.

“i’m beginning to think you’re playing some weird prank on me, mark lee. i hope whoever this guy is, comes to me soon. the suspense is killing me!” and with that, mark knew he needed to speed up the plan.

//

“you gotta tell her soon, your stupid clues are probably making her stressed. and why the hell do you wanna make her stressed?!” haechan gave the older boy a hard smack on the back of the head.

“look, we need a new plan, asap”

“no shit, you’re lucky i’m the damage control” haechan huffed, putting on his figurative thinking cap.

“aha! you’re going to write her a song” mark raised an eyebrow at the younger boy as if he was insane, he can’t write a song in a day, not even a week sometimes.

“not an actual song! just a little snippet of a song describing your feelings, since you can’t seem to say it to her straight out. it’s a brilliant idea and you should thank me” mark understood where he was coming from. maybe if he sat you down, with his guitar and sang to you, it wouldn’t be as awkward or pressuring. lee haechan was in fact a genius.

//

“mark? it’s like 1am, what do you need me for?” you groan from your side of the phone call.

“i need to get something off my chest, meet me at the park in 10” part of you wanted to hang up and fall back asleep, but another part of you was curious as to why mark lee needed you so late in the night. you dressed yourself in a warm puffer jacket before making your way to the playground across from your and mark’s houses.

you saw him sitting on one of the swings, his guitar tucked close to him, his fingers strumming to a random tune.

“this better be good” you sigh, taking a seat on the swing next to him.

“the reason i asked you to come out here is because i haven’t been completely honest with you. i don’t want you to say anything until the song is done, it would really save me the embarrassment” he warned, making you slightly nervous. he took a deep breath, eyes focused on the strings of the guitar, before he began to play.

[ *cue ‘i’ve got this friend’ by 5sos hehe]

“I've got this friend who's crazy about you

I've got this friend who can't be without you

I've got this friend and I wish I could see

See what you'd say if I told you it was me

I want to tell you to see what you'd say

Before I jump in and I ask for that date

I've been that friend

I've been that friend and I wish I could see

How this would end if you knew it was me?”

your heart melted at each lyric. mark lee had been that ‘friend’ all along. the mark that always waited for you to walk to school together. the mark that always brought you home bubble tea when you were feeling down. the mark that always invited you over just because he enjoyed the company. it was him. it was always him.

you felt tears begin to fill your eyes, causing mark to place his guitar down and stand across from you, holding your shoulders gently.

“d-did i say something wrong? did i mess things up? i’m so sorry, y/n. i should have come clean so-“

“no mark, i’m not mad or sad! i’m just really overwhelmed. here i was thinking that this was all some silly joke when the whole time, you were my admirer” you slightly sniffled at the last part, making mark’s heart swoon. he wiped a tear that fell from your eye, as you leant into his warm palm.

“i don’t need you to say you like me back or anything, i just couldn’t go on with life without you knowing”

“i understand. and trust me, i’ve always seen you as my cute next door neighbour. and honestly, i’d be lying if i said that i haven’t thought about dating you” you felt heat rise to your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice due to the cold.

“but all those clues! it must have been so entertaining to watch me struggle with piecing it all together! everything makes sense now, except for the bass guitar one. i thought you were just the lead guitarist?” you furrowed your eyebrows as mark began to chuckle.

“i kinda slipped up there, i can play both guitar and bass. i was actually the initial bassist of the band until we found jeno” mark explained, making you feel even more stupid.

“gosh, there i was thinking that jeno was my admirer” you saw mark begin to frown, causing you to stand and face him.

“but don’t worry about him, all my attention and focus will be on you now!” you smiled with glee, watching as mark copied your expression. he leaned down close to you, placing a small peck to your cheek, his breath slowly fanning your cheeks.

“so what do you say? go on a date with me?”

“of course, tell your little ‘friend’ he finally got the girl” you pulled him into a warm embrace, feeling him melt in your arms.

it was safe to say that you and mark didn’t remain friends for much longer.

[der-sonne]

For the prompts,

"I never ask for help because I'm not sure I know how."

For Tangled 👁👁💕

i’m just writing a drabble, she said, as she proceeded to write 1270 words. i’m she.

anyway you can go read this on ao3 or keep reading below!!

***

Before stealing the crown, Eugene had spent two months casing the palace. It was a slow process of finding the old blueprints, memorising the schedule of the guards, and even sneaking into a tour intended for visiting dignitaries. That is to say, if anyone knew how to successfully sneak around the castle, it would be him.

Of course, none of that planning ever accounted for the princess standing with her arms crossed in front of his room.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” he said, using his best and least suspicious smile.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you alright?” He tried to switch topics. “You look cold.”

It was true, in his defence. Now that he walked closer, he realised she was only in a thin nightgown, and she was shivering. He shrugged off his outermost coat without a second thought, draping it around her shoulders and tugging her into him.

She pushed back. “Are you wearing… five jackets?”

Oh, right. That’s why he was trying to go unnoticed. He stammered for a response while she removed the coat and inspected it. “Technically, two of these are shirts.”

“Eugene.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Can we get out of the hallway before someone sees, though? I can’t have any rumours circulating that my fashion sense is anything less than show-stopping.”

Rapunzel smiled, at least, which he took as a good sign. She had discarded his coat though, and as she tucked her legs under his quilt, he found himself shedding another layer to offer to her. It was still the end of summer, but the past few days had been wrought with thunderstorms and between this and his girlfriend’s habit of running through the rain, he was worried she’d catch a cold.

And she never did say if she was alright. It was just past midnight—by two minutes, judging from the sound of the night guard starting his rounds in the hallway—and Rapunzel had only ever shown up unannounced at his door like this after a nightmare.

He opened his mouth to ask again, but she beat him to the chase.

“You didn’t wear three jackets and two shirts just to give them to me, did you?”

“Ah, well. My wardrobe was looking a little thin, don’t you think?”

In fact, in the five weeks since being invited to live in the castle, he’d barely acquired enough clothes to survive between washes. It was still more than he’d ever had, but it felt pitiful beside Rapunzel’s never ending selection of gowns.

He had a reputation to uphold here, after all. And with the weather getting colder—well, he was running out of options.

“So you went shopping at midnight?” she asked.

He winced, but he’d already promised himself never to lie to her again. “Not exactly.”

Though he was too busy pacing a hole in the floor to bury himself in, Eugene could imagine the look she was giving him now. He only hoped there was loving concern behind it.

“I didn’t steal them!” he quickly explained. “They’d just been… left. Discarded, really. Unused and in need of a new home! It would’ve been a disservice not to take them with me. Cleaning up the town, is what I did.”

He snuck a glance at her, and sure enough, there was that frown. She took the second jacket off her shoulders, spreading it out over the bed.

“This belongs to someone, Eugene.”

“No, no, I made sure of that. Spent days asking if anyone had misplaced a coat, and got zip, nada, nothing. Trust me, there were plenty more I did return.”

Including a very snazzy woollen sweater that he’d been loath to part with.

Rapunzel held a hand out to him, ceasing his pacing at the very least. It just reminded him once again of how little she was wearing since she seemed determined to freeze, so he began doffing his third jacket for her.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “You could’ve bought more clothes.”

“With all the money I don’t have?”

“You could ask.”

“I could never ask for help,” he scoffed.

He was being harsh and he knew it, but it was a sore spot for him—for more than ten years he’d managed just fine without relying on anybody. Rapunzel looked up at him unimpressed.

Sighing, he sat beside her on the bed, and looked stubbornly at the wall. “I’m not sure I know how.”

She leaned into him, head falling on his shoulder as he automatically wound his arm around her. That was the one thing he could always count on her for, as hard as learning to trust another person was. But she understood him surprisingly well.

“Why don’t you practice?” she asked.

“Practice,” he echoed.

“Sure!” She scooted back to give him an encouraging smile, and he watched in dismay as the latest jacket slid off her shoulders. “Go ahead, try asking me now.”

It was absurd, and foolish, but so distinctly Rapunzel that he thought it just might work. What did he have to lose around her anyway?

He cleared his throat. “Alright. Uh, so the thing is, you see—no, wait, let me start again. This is harder than it looks actually. I was just asking, I mean, you know what I’m asking, really, so I don’t know how to—”

“Focus, Eugene.”

“Right, right. It’s just, well.” The words felt glued in his throat, and he felt like an idiot. “Help. You, I mean, me, I mean, would you… me.”

Rapunzel was nodding along, though, with one of the largest grins he’d ever seen on her face. Which was saying something. He really didn’t deserve her.

“You were so close! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, sunshine.”

Yeah, he definitely didn’t deserve that, but as she flung her arms around him, he found he didn’t mind in the slightest. She was soft and warm, squeezing the life out of him in the most pleasant way. Wait, warm?

He reached up to cup her cheeks, and placed an experimental kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, why were you waiting at my door in the first place?” he asked casually, as if a thousand alarm bells hadn’t started ringing in his head at once.

“Oh, you know.” She pulled away, and her guilty smile confirmed all of his suspicions immediately. “I just wanted the company.”

He shed off his final extra layer, a green shirt that was several sizes too large, even on him. This time, he guided her through the sleeves, and started buttoning the shirt at her chin. He could tell the moment she gave up her act, slouching into him with a grimace.

“I guess my head kind of hurts,” she said slowly.

“Uh huh.”

“…And my throat’s a little sore.”

“Sure.”

“But it’s nothing to worry—”

She sneezed, and at least had the decency to appear sorry. Not that he was mad at her in the slightest—only increasingly worried. Did she need more blankets? A glass of water? He should call the physician, right?

No, he had to calm down. It was just the beginning of a cold. What she needed now was some rest and someone to hold her. Or maybe that bit was for his sake.

Then it occurred to him. “Are you trying to ask for help?”

“Maybe.” She sniffed.

He slid in the final button, and tucked her more firmly against his chest. It was probably unwise to remain so close to someone sick, but he hadn’t exactly been making the smartest decisions lately.

At least he had someone to remind him why he tried.

[castexpectopatronum]

Liquid Amber - Part V [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

notes: reupload because the original got deleated

trigger warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

Time stretched like a package of Droobles Best Chewing Gum. With every glance you took at the clock, its hand seemed to be creeping along even slower, taunting you, torturing you, until the constant ticking was the only thing echoing in your mind.

When the time to meet Remus had finally arrived, it seemed like a miracle to you. You already went to the now empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom thirty minutes early because you couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, but you found you weren’t any less nervous there than before. Your heart was thumping, your palms were sweating, the blood was rushing in your ears...

You were sitting on the teacher’s desk, the heels of your feet bumping steadily against the wood as you swung your legs to an unheard rhythm.

Ten to eight.

There was no need for Remus to be as overly punctual as you were.

Nine to eight.

There was still enough time.

Eight to eight.

Words were swirling around in your mind, but you failed spectacularly at putting them in a consistent order. Nothing made sense. Nothing had meaning.

Six to eight.

The heels of your feet were numb from colliding with the desk. You didn’t stop.

Five to eight.

Enough time...

Four to eight.

Was this really such a good idea? Maybe he would get angry. It was his own business, after all.

Three to eight.

No. You had to talk to him. Even if he didn’t want you to interfere in any way, he had the right to know that you knew.

Two to eight.

He was not running late. Not yet.

One to eight.

Not yet.

The clock stroke eight o’clock.

Remus wasn’t there.

At five past eight, you were still patiently waiting. At ten past eight your legs stopped swinging. At twenty past eight you turned your eyes away from the clock. And at half past eight you admitted to yourself that Remus wouldn’t be coming. That he had never planned on coming at all.

You weren’t surprised. In some way, you were actually almost thankful that he had freed you from having this conversation you had been so nervous about the entire day. But for the most part, you were simply disappointed. Yes, you had known better, but hoped for so much more. Hoped for him to at least listen to you. Just this once. This one time when you had so much to say.

You didn’t leave immediately. For a while, you just sat there on the desk, alone with your thoughts. The clock’s hand crept on, its ticking echoing in the dark classroom, wandering from half past eight to twenty to nine to ten to nine, and you were still sitting there in the dark classroom, still hoping for what you knew wouldn’t happen.

You knew it was time to leave. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to it. Not just yet...

It was almost nine when the door to the classroom suddenly creaked open and a figure stepped in, tall and slender. You lifted your head, not trusting your eyes on what they were seeing.

Remus seemed almost startled to see you there but still he smiled at you. It was a rather forced smile but it was a smile nonetheless. He could have yelled at you for all you cared – he had shown up and that was all that mattered.

Remus closed the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he admitted and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

You gave him a weak smile from your place on the desk. “I’m somewhat surprised myself.”

“So...” Remus took a few steps into the room. “You wanted to talk?”

You nodded, so slightly it was almost impossible for him to see in the darkness. “I’m glad you came,” you said quietly.

Remus made an odd motion, a mixture of a shrug and a nod. “I figured I owe you at least that.”

You breathed a laugh. “For turning me down? I told you before, Remus. It’s okay.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in an awkward smile, and his eyes began to flicker around the room to avoid your gaze. You didn’t mind much. You knew he was listening.

“I knew there was something going on with you,” you began. “You seemed so troubled and you were sick so often... I knew  something was off and I wanted to help you. But you wouldn’t tell me what was going on, so... I took matters into my own hand.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. An alarming look appeared in his eyes, the same look you had seen when you had visited him in the Hospital Wing. It seemed like ages ago.

“I did a lot of research,” you continued. “The amount of books I read... I don’t think anyone in this castle knows more about magical diseases than I do, so if you have questions, I’m your guy.”

Remus didn’t laugh. He stood, still as a statue, and stared at you with a look of pure horror in his eyes he didn’t even bother to hide.

You let out a quiet sigh. “I know, Remus.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remus-”

“No.”

He turned on his heel and was halfway through the classroom when you said, “Remus, please.”

To your surprise, he stopped, almost at the door, but he didn’t turn around. You heard his sharp breaths and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“How long have you known?”

“A few days,” you answered. “Maybe a week.”

His shoulders had dropped defeatedly. His head was lowered; he was staring at the ground. You wished you could have been able to see his face but he still had his back turned towards you.

“Is that why you’ve ordered me here?“ he suddenly asked in a hoarse voice. “To tell me you know what I am? To tell me I’m a monster?”

Your head snatched up; a deep frown appeared on your face and you jumped from the desk. Without delay you walked straight through the classroom, stepping around Remus so you were able to face him.

His gaze was still lowered to the floor; he was fixing the stone with his eyes, refusing to look at you.

But you looked at him.

“You’re not the monster, Remus,” you said firmly. “You’re the victim.”

Remus blinked and raised his head. For a moment, there was only the look of confusion on his face. “W-What?”

You smiled softly. “You heard me. Stop putting yourself down for something that isn’t your fault.”

Remus breathed a bitter laugh and looked away. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’ve done my research, Remus,“ you said. “The wolf is a part of you. But it’s not you.”

Remus’ entire body was shaking although he was wearing both his jumper and robes, and his chest was rising and falling heavily.

“I’ve ’ordered’ you here to tell you I know you’re a werewolf,” you continued, your voice remaining firm even when you saw Remus flinching at the word. “And to tell you it doesn’t change a thing.”

Remus’ eyes were fixed on your own. Your heart raced as you looked at him and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. But you knew he would just run off again like he always did.

“You... You don’t think I’m a-” He halted, forcing the words to come out of his mouth. “I’m a-”

“Monster?” You smiled bitterly. “No. No, I don’t.”

You hadn’t felt like lighting the room when you had entered, so there was not even candlelight to enlighten it. Remus’ face was hidden in the shadows; only because you were standing so close to each other could you make out his expression. His eyes were grazing over your face, a frown on his face. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. Or even think.

“I told you I wanted to help you,” you whispered and took a step closer. Remus gulped, but he didn’t turn away from you. “But I can only help you if you’ll let me.”

“You can’t help me,” he muttered.

“I refuse to accept that,” you said.

Remus breathed a laugh. “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”

“You’re saying that as though it was something bad,” you replied with twinkling eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I suppose it depends on the person.”

„I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Remus chuckled. Then, his expression turned more solemn again. “Are you... Do you really...”

He found himself unable to finish the question, but he didn’t have to for you to understand.

“Yes, I do,” you said with a gentle smile. “Remember what I told you back in the Hospital Wing?” Remus cocked his head slightly to the side. “I told you whatever it was that you were going through, it could never change my opinion on you. And I was right, wasn’t I? I still feel the same way about you I did all those weeks ago.”

A smile had appeared on Remus’ face but when you spoke the last part of your sentence, he suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. “Feel?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realised your mistake. “Think,” you said quickly. “I meant ... think.”

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter, really...”

But suddenly, Remus had bent down and kissed you. It wasn’t more than a light touch of your lips, but it was enough to make your heart stop in your chest.

After only a moment, Remus pulled back, though, slowly, his mouth slightly agape. You stared at him with wide eyes as he straightened up again, seemingly startled by what he had just done.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Remus-”

“I should’ve asked you first-”

“Remus!”

Remus fell silent. His chest was rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. You still couldn’t see his face, but you were sure a blush was rising to his cheeks.

A smile spread out on your face as you slowly stepped forward, your hand lying on his chest, causing him to walk backwards until he stumbled against his desk and sat down.

For a moment, you simply took him in, biting your lip as you did and smiling to yourself. Remus’ brown hair was falling into his forehead and his soft eyes were gazing into your own, flickered from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Your smile widened as you slowly leaned it, your face inching towards his.

Remus still had the time to stop you if he wanted to.  But he didn’t. He sat there and waited, his breath going faster each moment. He licked his lips nervously; your breath mingled with his, your heart thumped in your chest, your noses brushed...

And then, your lips touched.

It was soft, at first, light as a feather. Your lips carefully moved against each other, testing, exploring, only slowly daring to go further. You heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as your fingers moved up his thighs and his own, big hands snuck around your waist to pull you closer. You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips moved faster, the kiss became deeper; Remus arms were now hugging your back, pressing you as close as possible while yours were tightly wrapped around his neck, one hand entangled in his soft, thick hair. You two were clinging to each other as though you were drowning, the kiss becoming deeper and more desperate with each moment.

Only when you were in need of air did you break this kiss. But you didn’t let go of each other. Breathing heavily, you stared into each other’s eyes and then leaned forwards to rest your foreheads against each other.

Suddenly, you breathed a laugh.  “Wow.”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.”

You grinned. “This conversation turned out better than I expected.”

A smile appeared on Remus’ face. “I must say I haven’t expected that either.”

“So... that thing that we do, that we don’t talk to each other... I take it that’s over now?” you asked, seemingly casual, but your stomach tightly knotted together.

A shadow flickered over Remus’ face.

Your fingers strocked his neck, kept him in place. “Let me help you, Remus. Please.”

But Remus let go of you. He loosened your grip around his neck and let out a deep breath as he lowered your hands, intertwining your fingers. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand.

“There’s only so much you can do,” he whispered against your fingers. “But if that’s truly what you want.”

“It is,” you breathed. “I care about you, Remus. A lot. And I want to help you.”

“Why?”

You lifted your gaze. Remus was looking at you with such vulnerability in his soft eyes that it took your breath away. “Because you’re a good person, Remus. And I really, really like you. Like, my-heart-stops-beating-every-time-you-walk-by-and-I-want-to-take-you-out-for-dinner-kind of like.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. He was silent for such a long time that you began to fear you had overstepped your boundaries. But then, he said “I’d also like to take you out for dinner.”

You laughed. Your knees turned weak with relief. “That sounds like a plan,” you whispered, a smile playing at your lips, and leaned in to kiss him once more; a kiss which Remus was more than happy to return.

Turned out Remus did like you, after all.

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[atveren]

Diluc X Reader

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Death, Swearing, Injury, Bone-breaking, Mentions of self hate

Probably goes against canon but what do I care?

Gender Neutral (They/Them, You/Yours)

It had been a long month for the winery owner. Diluc had returned home, hoping to just get some quiet. That’s all he wanted, at least an hour. Just a bit of time to calm down from the weeks of nothing but work, fighting and stress. By some luck, the abyss had picked up its work at the same time many orders had come in, and other things had been sabotaged.

Fate had other plans, because just as he walked inside, you rushed over to him, with a worried look in your eyes. “Diluc! Are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down, checking for injuries. “I’m fine, (Name). But would you leave me alone, just for an hour? I need a break.” He asked, seeming exhautsed.

“Absolutely not! You were gone for a month, wirh zero contact to anyone but the staff. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” You snapped back in retort. You couldn’t help it, he’d left with no warning and didn’t bother even sending a letter, or leaving a note? If it wasn’t for the staff telling you otherwise, you would’ve thought he died in a battle.

“(Name). I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I just need one hour. Then you can worry all you want.” Diluc said, his eyes narrowing, growing frustrated. You didn’t seem to notice, and continued pestering him. It took just a few more pushes, before he finally snapped.

Diluc’s tone was harsh, and held clear irritation. He massaged his forehead, aggravated. “Are you unable to understand I don’t want to be around you right now? It would’ve just been an hour, but I need a break. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he turned, leaving the main room. You yourself were angry, and tried to be as caring as possible towards him, and he took that for granted. (At least in your eyes, he did.)

You felt like it was maybe a decision made in anger, but you walked out. You decided that if he was going to hurt you like this, you would hurt him in return. Not directly, no. From afar, by supporting the one thing he hated the most in life. The Abyss. You’ll work to help their plans from the sidelines.

It was a long time later, maybe a few months. You didn’t know exactly, you hadn’t even returned to the city, unless it was for an attack. It was an odd encounter when you accidentally ran into an abyss mage, and they assumed you would attack. When you explained the situation, it seemed pleased. It had reported back to the others, and you were now regarded as an ally. You were thriving, especially knowing this was revenge on him. He had shoved you aside like you were disposable, (which wasn’t true, but that’s how you saw it.) and you were angry.

On the other hand, Diluc, was distraught. None of the maids knew where you’d gone, you hadn’t said a word, just like he did. He hoped that you were just busy, commissions, work from the knights, helping the traveller, anything other than being dead. He could never guess what you had done, he would never assume something like that of you. He’d tried by the knights, and only doubted them more. The adventurer’s guild hadn’t seen you either in monstadt nor liyue. He’d even asked the traveller, and got nothing.

It was as if, you had disappeared. He didn’t want to think you were dead. He didn’t want to think it was anything like that. Maybe you were avoiding him, seeing as that fight was pretty rough and maybe he had been too harsh..Wait..

“The abyss! They..they could’ve taken them...I should never have let my guard down, what have I done...” Diluc yelled out to nobody in particular, as he was alone in the manor. “They probably think I hate them..” He muttered, and despite swearing he wouldn’t let himself cry again. A tear fell, and then another, and then he was sobbing into his hands. He didn’t want to lose you. But, he was sure by now, you would never forgive him. He hadn’t even assumed you would be taken by the abyss, and now he was furious. He didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know you were apart of the group he hated the most.

An abyss mage warned you that he was looking for you, as others had been interrogated. You nodded in thanks to them, grabbing your weapon and donning the mask you had wood crafted to conceal your identity. You had dyed your hair with fruits, and your armour mostly concealed your body. As far as you were aware, he wouldn’t recognise you. The one thing you forgot, was the necklace he had given you a long time back. You had been used to wearing it normally, and hadn’t taken it off. Thankfully, it was tucked behind your armour.

The day shortly arrived when you crossed paths. He didn’t have time to ask questions before you attacked. You weren’t going to kill him, as angry as you were you couldn’t go that far. It may seem selfish, one fight and you decided to leave. But it had been many fights, many time he’s come home late, and forgotten anniversaries. All of that combined with him practically abandoning you, had caused you to break. You had tried being understanding, but that all vanished when he practically told you to fuck off.

Diluc didn’t know how bad it had hurt you, as far as he was aware, you weren’t affected. He couldn’t let his mind distract him. He had to focus on his opponent, which was a tricky one. It was as if they knew his attack patterns by heart..Well, that was the truth. “Where are they?!” His voice rang out over the battlefield, which was really just a small area of the woods. He wanted to use his elemental abilities, but something deep inside told him not to.

You hadn’t replied, only with a laugh that was sarcastic, and a shake of your head. Why did that laugh sound so familiair...It couldn’t be! Could it...? He didn’t have time to make up his mind, as his opponent missed a defence, and his claymore slit across their chest, shredding the armour and cutting deep, just barely missing any vital organs. A crack could be heard and you were sure something was shattered. The necklace could also be seen, and it loosely hanged as you brought your hands up to cover the injury, and stop the bleeding. As the blade had hit, your scream ripped through the area. You were sobbing, and in agony. It felt like you were dying, and perhaps..maybe you were.

Diluc’s eyes narrowed, noticing the necklace. “I’ll ask one last time. Where. Is. (Name)? You have their necklace, you’ve encountered them.” His voice was cold, and his blade was still ready. His elemental burst was also ready, he wasn’t taking any chances. “I won’t hesitate to kill you if you lie, or stay silent.” He approached closer, lowering the blade to your neck. You stared at him through the mask, before your hand shot up and ripped it off. “Me! Damnit Diluc, it’s me..” You sobbed out again, grasping the wound with both hands again.

Diluc stared. The claymore still held in his hands, before he tossed it to the side. “(Name)...I..I’m sorry..Were you forced to do this?! When did they take you..?” His voice was cracking, and all his self-respect and tough act disappeared. “They didn’t..I joined them.” You confessed, still staring into his eyes.

“Why would you-“ He almost yelled, before you yelled in return. “Because of you! I was sick of being treated like shit, and being ignored. Y-You would work and work and completely ignore me! I was sick of it.” He was silent, staring, and blinking. He couldn’t be mad at you, this was his fault. “And then when you decided to leave for an entire month, then shove me off like I meant nothing?! I was fucking done.”

Diluc dropped down next to you, he knew he didn’t have enough time to get you back to Monstadt, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He picked you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest. He wasn’t upset at you, he couldn’t be. He caused this. He was at fault. He didn’t know why you would put yourself in such danger, just to get back to him. “Please..hold on. I swear I’ll-“ You cut him off by bringing your hand to his cheek, wiping the blood and tears from his eyes. “Forgive me, Diluc, but it’s too late. Don’t be mad at yourself, I love you..” You coughed out, knowing your time was coming.

Your hand fell, and body grew cold. He froze. He couldn’t move, only holding you closer. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, and cursing himself. Muttering things of ‘this is my fault’ ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at them..’ and the like. He couldn’t believe this was reality, he didn’t want it to be. He couldn’t move. He was compeletely frozen. He knew he never said it enough, and it was too late now, but he said it anyway. “(Name)..I love you too.”

Diluc never did forgive himself. And he surounded himself with more work than before. He didn’t find love again, not after knowing he killed the person he considered the love of his life. The person he would be with forever.

~Bonus Ending that isn’t canon to this fic~

“Diluc...Diluc!” Your voice woke him up, he was out in the gardens and you were standing in front of him. He stared at you, you being uninjured and well, not dead. “Are you okay?! You were crying! Was it a nightmare?” You asked, sitting beside him. “I made you something as an apology. I should’ve let you take a break. Could you forgive me?” You passed the small treat over to him, and he took it, eyes never leaving you.

“Thank you, (Name). And I should apologise, how about I take the next month off? We can spend it together, how does that sound?” He offered, with a small smile. “That would be great! There’s this one super pretty area we could go to and..” He listened to your rambling, with this peaceful look. He would do anything to make sure that nightmare wasn’t a reality. “Let us go inside, shall we?” He calmly said, keeping his composure. You nodded with a smile. The two of you stood, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

“Yes..?”

“I love you. A lot. And I never want to lose you.”

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[deepperplexity]

All Because You Love Me

Title: All Because You Love Me 

Request: Hi love all of your stories, can you make a Snape X Half-Blood Professor reader where they have a love-hate relationship and in the end they end up confessing there love to each other when Severis becomes more nicer to her than all the other professors? Thank You I would very appreciate it. @large-obesession​ 

A/N: This was difficult to write and I don't know if I managed to do the idea in my head justice but I am kind of satisfied with this anyway? O.O I hope you all will enjoy it!

+A/N: FIRST FIC ON THE FIRST DAY OF 2021! Yay! :D  

Setting: Hogwarts  

Pairing: Snape x Half-Blood!Teacher!Reader 

ABBR.:│(y/n) - Your Name│ (y/l/n) - Your Last Name │

Word Count: 7280

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Harsh Language, Alienation, Kissing, Love/Hate, Fighting

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

Why couldn't he just leave you the fuck alone? Was it really that hard to just mind his own damn business? You fumed as your feet pounded the stone floor on your way to your classroom. Not only had you been forced to deal with a crying student, the havoc-wreaking Peeves and so, consequentially, you also missed breakfast. Oh no, no, you also had to deal with him. Professor Severus Snape. The gloomy, dark, too fucking sexy professor that simply would not leave you the hell alone. He was everywhere, around every corner. Even at night when you slumbered deeply under the covers he infiltrated your mind with harsh words and domineering sneers that made you ache. 

You sighed heavily as you pulled open the door to the classroom. All students already present and waiting for you.  "Sorry for being late, had a bit of a poltergeist problem," you grumbled as you shut the door with a harsh bang that echoed through the room while you took quick, short steps in a hurry to get to the desk and start the first class of the new week.  "Open your books, page 287. Hurry up," you said as your anger still simmered and brewed just below the surface. It was unfortunate for the sixth years that seemed to wonder what was up with you, you were usually so cheerful and happy while teaching. Well, not today apparently, bloody poltergeists and billowing cloaks with galaxy eyes and- no no no, stop that! You hate the man's guts! Stop, stop, stop! 

You shook your head, tried to find your usual sense of self while plastering on a smile in the hopes it would etch itself to your lips for the rest of the day.  "Now, who would like to ask a question for the day?" You always asked the students to ask one question regarding the lessons material as you always made sure to tell them at the end of the previous lesson what they would be working on next. A Hufflepuff girl reached her hand up and as she asked her question, that you would answer throughout the lesson, the first class was underway. It gave you something to focus on, to tether yourself to and eventually your mind focused on the subject - to the delight of the students - as your regular disposition returned with a true smile etched on your lips. 

First and second class had gone by smoothly after the little hiccup in the morning. You were happily dismissing the fourth years for lunch when your stomach grumbled something fiercely. Food, sustenance, gosh, I'm starving, you thought as you ordered your desk for the upcoming lesson before heading towards the Great Hall for the first food of the day for you. You closed the door gently and locked it. 

"No running!" you shouted after some Gryffindor boys as you were about to turn a corner.  "And no shouting, (y/l/n)," a growling voice snarled just as you rounded the corner. Oh, great, fucking great. You glared at professor Snape as he stood a few steps away from you.  "There should be a rule about growling," you muttered under your breath as you walked towards him. Your face was hard and your back straight.  "What was that, (y/l/n)?" You tilted your head back a little further, nose in the air.  "Nothing, Snape," you snarled as you passed him, "I just think you should mind your own business," you continued in a cutting voice after having passed him.  

You could have sworn you heard him grumble something behind you but you paid it no mind. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of entertaining him. Even if your chest ached at his harsh tone. Ignore it, just ignore the hell out of that stupid heart. IGNORE IT! You focused on the pinching pain in your stomach, the growling noises it made and hurried along to reach the Great Hall. Unfortunately, Snape had the same idea as he easily reached you with his long legs and that billowing cloak floating like a thundercloud around him.  "No running," you hissed with a slight twinkle in your eyes, "I thought you were better than the students." He scoffed and arched a brow at you as he slowed his pace to walk alongside you while he spoke.   "And I thought you were human, not a snail," he countered and then sped up yet again. You gasped at him before your fists clenched and you shook with anger. He got you there. You were, truly, a slow walker. Even when you tried to walk fast you were slow as a snail. 

He disappeared around another corner and you tried to walk faster. But it was impossible. You could not take long strides and you could only take so many steps in a short moment. So once you arrived at the Great Hall and entered Snape had already taken his place. You seethed as you saw him sneer out a defiant smile at you. You stalked up to the table and took your place on the opposite side of the table. Food appeared and you gulped it down in a flurry of motions as you truly were starved. All other things disappeared and your stomach rejoiced as it slowly filled up; one bite at a time. 

"Hungry, aren't we?" You choked on your juice as Snape's voice rumbled right beside you.  "Are you trying to kill me?!" you shouted at him and he had the gall to look taken aback at your harsh tone. You smacked down your glass and rose in such haste the chair nearly toppled over.  "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" you screamed as you stalked towards him while you paid no mind to the staring students or the shocked expression on Minerva's face as you poked Snape's chest with the tips of your fingers. 

He staggered backwards, "Seriously Snape! Don't just pop up like that! You could have killed me!" He arched a brow at you while your cheeks turned pink with anger and embarrassment as he looked down on you. The swirling dark of his eyes sucked you in and your heart tugged yet again. Not now! Your thoughts snarled at the roaring and hissing from your heart to be closer. "I did not pop, up," he drawled, "I merely asked if you were hungry."  "You popped up! You scared me!" you shouted before you shoved at him again, with your palms that time. His chest felt tight under them and you wanted to leave them there as your heart pounded harder while he glared at you.  "(Y/n), control yourself," Minerva said with a chiding voice, you spun your head towards her so fast it felt as if your neck would snap.  "He merely asked if you-"  "No, no he scared me half to death is what he did. As he always does. Popping up, growling, lurking in corridors and sticking his nose in other people's business!" 

After that you pushed Snape aside as the other professors gawked at you, stunned as you were usually a happy, cheerful person that wouldn't even hurt a fly. You stomped out of the Great Hall with quick, short steps as tears began to roll down your cheeks. You were so sick and tired of his behaviour. You had been nothing but nice towards him when you started working at Hogwarts a little over a year ago. He had merely drawled and growled, lurked in corridors and commented on your teaching and lesson plans. Never a kind word for you, yet he was always there - pestering you to no end.

In the dark man's defence, some of it wasn't even his fault. You loved him and you had to do anything you could to push him out of your heart, to banish the thoughts and dreams of him. Why did you love him? No fucking clue. You just did. He was marvellous, handsome, commanding, strong, harsh yet helpful in his own way. Not to mention the voice that thundered from his vocal cords. It made your knees weak every time you heard it. That's why you always straightened your back, hardened your face around him. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hard his harsh words and haunting glares were on you. Simply not happening so I should stop this damn crying now, for heaven's sake I mean absolutely jack shit to him. He never even calls me by my name, I'm just (y/l/n) to him, unlike all other staff members. 

You stomped your way up some stairs as you were heading towards your classroom. Even though there were nearly 40 minutes left before the next class would begin. You wiped your cheeks to get rid of the tears. A student stopped you, a Slytherin girl from your morning class. A very curious girl who always sat at the front and asked question after question after question. "Professor (y/l/n), are you alright?"  "Oh pipe it, Greene!" you snarled and the girl looked frightened as your harsh face twisted towards hers. Despite the tears that flowed down your cheeks you somehow managed to look utterly enraged at the poor student.  "I'm-, I'm sorry professor, I didn't-"  "I said pipe it, go bother your head of house instead!" You walked past the hunching student as guilt filled you. It wasn't her fault Snape was so evil towards you. You stopped and walked back down the three steps you had walked from the girl. 

"Ms Greene, I'm sorry, I'm fine. Just, go eat some lunch," you sighed out as the girl nodded without saying a word. She walked off, seemingly still taken aback by your harsh way with her. You sighed and snivelled ever so slightly.  "(Y/n)." Your head jerked up as Dumbledores voice rang through the air.  "Headmaster? Yes?" you stuttered as you wiped your eyes one more time.  "You are quite harsh with the students," he said as he peered at you from above his spectacles. Your cheeks blushed as you lowered your head.  "It has never happened before, it won't happen again headmaster," you stuttered weakly. Just my luck that you see me the one damn time I lose it for a moment. "See to it that it does not, this is their home and we are family." You clenched your jaw as you did your utmost not to let harsh words about Snape slip past your lips by the mentioning of being family. 

The week passed as you felt more and more alienated by the other staff members. Your explosion in the Great Hall was no secret, and apparently there was a rumour spreading about your interaction with Ms Greene. Only, it wasn't at all true. It was twisted and far from what had truly happened. You were depicted as a monster who shouted at the poor girl for minutes and there were no mentions of your apology. To top it off someone had seen Dumbledore reprimand you and that had at some point, around Wednesday you would say, been added to the rumour and it turned even more twisted. You had been loved by your students for your cheerful and happy ways, your gentle teaching and approach to your subject but now, most of that was ruined. 

Nobody spoke to you as they had done before. Snape seemed to be around you less, he didn't pop up around corners or comment on your slow walking - he didn't even sneer at your lesson plans as you worked on them in the teachers' lounge in the evenings. Not that you had gone to that room in two days now. It was Sunday morning and everything felt like a disaster. How could one day, one moment in time, destroy a person so completely? Had you not done so many good things? Had you not been gentle, kind, happy and supportive from the beginning? Had you not tried to befriend your colleagues and be of assistance to your students at all times? How could all of it be forgotten and replaced by one single moment in time of disaster? 

Another three weeks gave you the answer. No matter how hard you tried, a month after the shouting incident in the Great Hall, people still treated you differently. Treated you harshly and coldly. You had tried to explain, had tried to talk to Minerva and the others but it was no good. You were new and the other professors had been there for a long time including Snape that you went off on - they had known each other for a long time and it was no surprise they stood together. You understood that but it still did not make it acceptable. To shun someone in such a manner, without giving the person even a chance to explain. The students were a bit better but it did nothing to alleviate your pain and sorrow about the whole thing. (Even if some of them actually praised you for going off on the sort of hated professor.)

But what hurt the most, what you had thought you wanted initially, was the fact that Snape seemed to avoid you completely. Not a word, not a glance or glare. Not a scoff or harsh remark. Nothing. Just, nothing. It hurt, damn it hurt and you could not quite accept the feelings that snaked around in your veins and hissed from your heart. It made the pain more intense when your heart roared at you each time you caught a glimpse of his cloak around a corner, heard his distinct long stride from close by or the few times you saw him fully at dinner or bypassing him in the library. But you kept quiet, kept away from him as well and did not let him see the pain in your eyes as you got ever more isolated. 

You sighed as you glared at a truly shitty essay by a fifth-year student.  "What even is this?" you hissed out as you rubbed your temples. Outside soft light shimmered as it was nearing June and the nights were bright. You looked out the window for a moment and for some reason you banged into a wall of harsh void in your mind. The joy you had felt about teaching was gone, the magic of Hogwarts seemed to disappear and you just wanted to leave. Leave it, them, all behind. Him. Leave him behind. Retreat and lick your wounds, find something else to do with your life rather than hide in shame and isolation in a moist castle with infuriating stairs that seemed to move every time you were in a rush.  "That's it, I'm done." You abandoned your desk, left your office and headed towards the Headmasters office to resign. To throw in the towel and surrender, give up, admit defeat. It's what they all want so why not give it to them? 

You rushed down the infernal stairs, took a few turns and then moved up staircases again on your way to see Dumbledore and give him your notice of resignation. Your eyes stung with tears but you kept them at bay. Never had you felt as horrible as you did currently. It hurt, hurt to be forced in such a horrible way to leave. Yes, it was your choice but you were forced by the actions of others. You simply could not stand it any longer. You were a gentle and sensitive person. You were focusing on what you were going to say to Dumbledore as you took a sharp corner, stomping hurriedly in quick short steps only to be fully stopped as your body smacked into something hard yet soft. 

You stumbled backwards and tried to find your balance as a cold hand gripped your wrist and steadied you.  "Careful," Snape growled with that thundering voice as you looked up at him. Your face hardened yet softened. Your lips in a thin line as you clenched your jaw but you could not help the thrill that travelled through you at his touch and the sound of his voice. So, you glared at him as coldly as you could possibly manage with your watering eyes.  "Sure, as if it matters to you if I'm careful or not," you hissed as you wrung your arm free from his cold grip. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he looked at you intently. You stepped around him and continued towards the headmaster's office. 

"It matters very much to me," Snape stated with a deep, powerful voice that vibrated through you. You looked over your shoulder. Did your best to quiet your hearts hissing and roaring about love and lust as you looked at him while your face lost its raging edge.  "Oh I'm sure, it matters so much to you. How could I not see that? Silly me, thinking all the glares, remarks and harsh words were not at all related to your care for me. Oh, how stupid," you tutted with a snarl at the end before you rolled your eyes, shook your head and kept walking.  "Well, what else should I do?" His voice was satin soft and so low you barely heard what he said. But you did.  "Don't think about it, just leave me alone Snape." He drew a harsh breath as you said his last name and that was it. You left and he remained, in silence.

You turned a corner and leaned against the closest wall. Your heart raced, your mind was as calm as a raging storm while your hands and knees shook. Tears leaked out of your eyes and dripped from your chin as you sank to the floor. Exhausted and utterly hopelessly sad as the love you held for him raged in your heart without your consent. You knew, all too well, you had tried with him. Tried and tried, but he had never accepted you as anything but professor (y/l/n) who were young and new and obviously had too many faults to be anything but a nuisance to him. You had tried and tried to be gentle, friendly, sweet and helpful towards him as you were met with growls and sneers that cut deeper than you had admitted from the start. And since it hurt, you turned angry, you had started sneering and glaring back at him. Remarked on things he said, commented on his behaviour. He had turned you into something you were not, just by his own darkness and harshness. I need to leave, you thought as you wiped your tears away and took a few steadying breaths before you pushed yourself up from the floor and kept going. 

"Are you sure about this?" Dumbledore asked as he inspected you. You nodded. As you knew he could see you had been crying, knew he could see you were uncomfortable and no longer the person he had hired.  "I take it I can't persuade you to stay?"  "No, headmaster, at the end of this term I will leave. It gives you about three months to find someone new and I find that to be fair for both of us." Dumbledore looked at you intently as he peered over his spectacles. You twisted your hands where they rested in your lap.  "I am grateful for the opportunity but I don't feel I belong here," you said as you did not want to tell him about the treatment you endured from the other staff at Hogwarts. Sure, it may have helped but then the rumours would probably just get worse as they added snitch to it. So you kept quiet about it. Not wanting to step on anyone's toes anymore despite Dumbledores words of family ringing through your head from the day everything went to hell.  

"Well, I will not force you but it's a shame, I really thought you would fit perfectly here, and I thought for sure you and Severus would-" your head snapped up and your eyes burned with hurt at the mentioning of that name.  "I do not want to talk about that man. There is nothing between us, nor do I wish there to be." Dumbledore smiled softly and you did not like the way he looked at you, not one bit.  "That was not my meaning, (y/n). You and Severus, I thought that you two would be great colleagues as you are quite similar in ways one probably doesn't notice straight away. You are very different, but also very alike. He's quite, well, a lonely man but-"  "For good reasons," you interrupted as you stood up, "I am resigning as this term ends, headmaster." You turned around and as he said 'very well' you left his office. 

The next day you arrived for breakfast with bags under your eyes and you felt out of sorts as you had had a restless night. Twisting and turning, wondering where to go, what to do with your life and if you should tell the others about your resignation. You had decided not to do so and hoped Dumbledore didn't either. With a sigh, you sat down and a plate of toast with a cup of pitch-black coffee appeared before you. You grabbed the cup and started sipping. Nobody glanced your way, nor did they speak to you. Doesn't matter any more, a few more weeks and I'll be gone. They can think whatever the hell they want. You smiled to yourself as relief swept in. Soon you would be free of the shunning and alienation - free to do, well, something else and perhaps not be so miserable. 

You placed the cup down and glanced to your right to see who else was there but your eyes got stuck in Snape's. In those deep, dark galaxies of endlessness. He was looking at you. Not glaring, just looking with a weirdly pondering expression. You rolled your eyes a bit, mostly at your ignorant heart who still hissed and roared for him, and stuffed the toast into your mouth before you chugged the coffee down, wiped your mouth and left without a word to anyone. If they knew you were resigning they said nothing, if that was good or bad you didn't even want to think about. So you just headed off to start the first lesson of the day. Another Monday, another week and it all would pass, end. 

But you only got halfway before you heard the distinct sound of long strides from Snape, he was catching up to you.  "Happy today?" he asked hoarsely with that gruff voice of his. You glanced up at him as your back straightened and your chin lifted up ever so slightly. You did your best to not falter in your pace or let him see how he made you weak at the knees just by being near. So, you did what you had done lately. You snarled back at him.  "None of your business." He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly but quickly found himself again.  "Well, I'd say it is my business, seeing as it is my fault you have not been happy lately," he drawled out and you could have sworn there was some sort of regret hidden in that thunderous voice despite the way he spoke to you. 

You glanced at him but he looked straight ahead as he kept up with you. It wasn't really that difficult as you were, by his own words, slow as a snail.  "Pfth," you tutted, "as if you care," you huffed out and kept walking. Soon you'd reach your classroom and he would be forced to leave you alone.  "I-"  "Don't even say anything," you snarled as you stopped dead in your tracks. He faltered and stopped two steps later. As he turned towards you you folded your arms over your chest as to keep the pounding of your heart hidden - it felt as if it was visible through your clothes as hard as it was frantically beating for him.  "You are ridiculous, you know that?" you said with a flat voice.  "Oh, do elaborate. I do not think that is a word I have been described with before," Snape said and you rolled your eyes.  "Just leave me alone Mr Dark and Dangerous." 

He arched a brow at you and you gasped as the words had slipped out before you could register what your brain made your mouth say. Had it been a pure-blood you spoke with they would most likely have been clueless as it was an expression used by muggles. But Snape was a half-blood, just like you were and he understood the reference. All too well it seemed by his expression. Your cheeks blushed ever so slightly as you threw your hands up in the air and barreled your way past him before he had time to utter another word. But as you glanced over your shoulder he still stood in the exact same spot. Idiot... If you were calling him an idiot or yourself, you had no clue about. 

As the days passed Snape seemed to be nicer, more friendly and talkative. He rarely sneered, glared our spoke harshly to you and in all honesty, it felt strange. Weird and uncharacteristic for him. So as two weeks had passed and you nearly walked into him rounding a corner down in the dungeons after having lead a few stray first years down you just had to ask a question you had been pondering for a few days. 

"Do you know? Have Dumbledore told you?" you asked before he had time to ask what you were doing down in the dungeons.  "I'm, sorry, I don't quite follow?" You sighed at his words.  "Has he told you?"  "Told me what, exactly? I speak quite often with the headmaster," he droned on in a gruff drawl. You sighed and rubbed your forehead with the tips of your fingers.  "Forget it." You took a step to the left to pass him but he sidestepped as well.  "No, tell me, please." 

You stiffened as he used that last word. A word that felt so out of place coming from his thin lips. As if some world law were broken as he vocalized that pleading word. It took you a moment to gather yourself. Well, what's the harm, it's only a few days left before I'm gone. Your face softened as he looked at you differently, more gently and not so darkly harsh.  "I'm leaving,"  "Yes, the dungeons are not your place but tell me-"  "No you idiot," you sighed, "I'm leaving Hogwarts, when this term ends." Even though you called him an idiot, it was done with a soft voice of slight annoyance and nothing worse than that. 

He seemed to stiffen, seemed surprised. You sighed with a shrug of your shoulders.  "Hogwarts is not for me, apparently," you said and his face hardened.  "You got fired? For-, because-, because of me? For what happened?" His voice was different, it gently simmered with anger and it was not directed at you. But you shook your head. Not wanting to tell the reason you simply flattened your voice as much as you could as you spoke lightly.  "I resigned, Hogwarts is just not for me, I'll try something other than teaching."  "But you are a brilliant teacher," he said and you felt like a traveller in a different galaxy that was just all wrong. Did he just compliment me? What the-  "I know you are, your students excel and thrive in your classroom."  "Thank you, but it doesn't matter, not anymore." You gave him a tiny smile and then sidestepped again to leave the dungeons. You were simply too damn tired to argue, debate or throw any harsh comments about. enough was enough. And he didn't say anything else, didn't follow. Strangely enough, your heart hurt more now as he was being friendly. Now that he was civil with you it hurt so badly that it felt as if your chest would cave in on itself. 

As the days passed you found yourself bumping into Snape more often, he talked more with you and there was an apparent effort on his side to be civil, even nice to you. But there were two differences that separated you from the other staff members when it came to Snape. One, he only addressed you as (y/l/n) rather than (y/n) as he did with the others. Two, he was more gentle with you then he was with the others. Before, he had been ruthless, harsh, bordering on cruel at times. But now, he was soft in his ways, gentle in his words and even just saying 'good afternoon' or ask 'having a good day' seemed to be food for your starved heart as it grew heavier and heavier with want and love. With a need you could not fill. 

But you found yourself reverting to your old self, your true self as time passed by and strangely enough your joy for teaching returned. But there was nothing to do about that now as you had resigned and that was that. Besides, it would be good for you to escape the dark man who had captivated you since you laid eyes on him. Despite everything and all his efforts to harm you, hurt you, keep you away your heart had only hungered more for him and as the castle was empty and all students had gone home for the summer you felt it was time to do something about it. Perhaps at least get it out of your system before leaving forever. One regrets the things one do not do, not the things one has done as life ends. The words of your grandfather rang through your head and it steadied you. Gave you courage.

You had packed all your things, dressed in your regular clothing that fitted you as perfectly as your own skin did. You felt like you, not the professor or the colleague - just you. Well, in a moment I'll be just me. When I leave I will no longer be a professor or colleague. You took a breath and headed off towards the dungeons to hunt down Snape. You would at least tell him of your feelings, and then quite possibly run away before he damned you to hell for feeling romantic things regarding him. You had no idea how he would react. But it didn't matter, it was for your sake you were going to tell him. Clear the air and perhaps shut your heart up. 

He was not in his office, or in the common room or his classroom where you knew he brewed potions in his spare time - not that the man actually had any. So you headed off towards his private quarters. You had never been there so it took a moment for you to find the door. His name shined on a little golden sign that was nailed to the door, 'Professor Snape, Private Quarters'. You steeled yourself, tried to find your courage again as your shaky fist knocked on the door. It took a mere moment for the door to be hastily pulled open,  "If another stu-" Snape interrupted himself as you stood before him and not whoever he thought you had been. 

He stiffened, his face turned slightly paler as you looked at him. You could see his adam's apple bounce up and then down behind his cravat as he obviously swallowed quite hard.   "(Y/l/n), what gives me the pleasure?"  "May I come in?" you asked and he arched a brow.  "Yes, yes, come in." You nodded at him and stepped in on shaky legs as he moved aside. The door closed behind you and it felt strangely wrong to be in his private space. Perhaps you should have just blurted it out while the door was open and you could escape him instantly afterwards.  "Can I help you with something?" he asked and you turned towards him, followed him as he stepped around you. Good, the door is clear. 

You shook your head at him, "not really, no."  "Well, then do enlighten me about the pleasure of your company?" Your eyes lingered in his for a moment as you for once allowed yourself to truly listen to his deep voice that vibrated through the air and your own body.   "Well," you started as you looked down towards the floor, "I would like to tell you something," you continued as you braced yourself and looked up. Allowed your eyes to be dragged into his as you slowly floated about in the depths of his onyx eyes.  "Go on," he murmured as he clasped his hands behind his back. He seemed to tense ever so slightly and you allowed your heart to drink him up. For just a moment you would be just you in his presence. 

Okay, here goes all or nothing. Most likely nothing, you thought as you sucked in a breath of damp air.  "I love you." The words were uttered clearly, no hesitation or any attempt at softening them. They were spoken with truth and honesty embedded in every syllable. Snape blinked at you as you merely stood there, looked at him with a nearly stoic face.  "I just thought you ought to know." There, you had said it, you had done it. All the roaring, screaming and hissing from your heart died down. It simply pounded quietly in your chest as the truth was out. As if it held its breath for him to tell you he felt the same, but your head knew that was not what was going to happen. So, to spare yourself and him the embarrassment of stuttered words of some sort of apology, you simply turned and walked towards the door. 

The handle felt cold in an unpleasant way against your palm as you twisted the nob, pulled the door towards you and stepped out without a single glance over your shoulder towards the speechless man behind you. If you had taken a second to look at him you would have found a man who was breaking and crumbling at your words. But you did not. And the door closed gently behind you. You sighed as your shoulders rose and sunk in unison with the air that filled and then left your lungs. Well, that was terrible. You shook your head as reality hit you. That you did not matter to him. Every time your heart screamed for him his remained encased by walls of stone. Every time you drowned in his eyes he remained tethered to reality. You had already known it was so, but to have exposed your truth and receive nothing in return was worse than angry words of disdain in all honesty. 

The empty corridor felt deadly quiet as you began to walk away from the man you had fallen through the pits of hellish love for. You would leave, mend your shattering heart and find something to keep your mind occupied with. You already knew the future would be hard to cope with now that there were no doubts about his feelings towards you. At best disgust, at worse indifference. At least you told him and got an answer, even if your howling heart wanted nothing to do with that answer.  "You'll mend," you whispered softly as you placed a hand over your viciously pounding heart. It tugged at you to go back, its claws dug into your soul and tried to wrench it back towards his door, towards him. But your body refused, your mind took control as your heart was obviously out of sorts at that moment. 

You jumped as a loud crashing sound was heard. Shattered glass against stone, a crescendo of clinking noises of damage and destruction. A loud bang was heard afterwards and then the sound of books or the like that fell and landed on stone as well.  "What in the-" but you had no time to say anything else as Snape's door flew open with a loud bang as it hit the inner wall of his private quarters. You ever so slowly turned towards him as he stepped out in a flurry of black fabric that swayed from his rapid movements. 

His head turned and your eyes landed on his face. It was hard, jaw tensed, eyes darkly brimming with fire. You knitted your brow at him as your heart howled desperately in your chest, your mind did its best to hold the reins though. He saw you and his shoulders sank ever so slightly as if he released a breath, but you were not sure as he was a few steps away. A distance he rapidly closed with long rushed strides.  "(Y/n)," he breathed out as he reached you and grabbed your wrists as if to hold you in place. His hand was wet against your skin, out of pure instinct you glanced down and saw blood dripping from it.  "You're hurt," you stated as you seemed to be in some form of inner turmoil that kept your voice flat and your movements limited. Shock I believe? No? Isn't this shock? I mean, he said my name, my actual name. That's, new. 

He glanced down on his hand but ignored the injury and blood as he instantly looked up to you again instead.  "Why did you not tell me sooner?" he asked with a growl as his jaw looked tense.  "I'm sorry?"  "Why did you. Not. Tell me. Sooner?" he repeated with force between his gritted teeth.  "Well, that's obvious. You hate me, I understand that. From how you treated me the moment we met I've understood that." His eyes widened as you looked at him flatly, unable to portray any emotion as you were, probably, in a deep shock at your own truth and his reaction to it. 

"Elaborate," he growled. You sighed.  "Really, do I really need to?" He nodded and you rolled your eyes as you felt your body go more and more numb. Not only had you told him but now you had to explain the whole thing to the man - how selfish could a person be? Could he not just leave you alone to wallow in your pain and sorrow?  "Never saying my name, the glaring, the sneering and the constant remarks and harsh words. You could barely stand to look at me a few weeks ago. The moment we met you huffed at me and turned your back before storming away as if I was not even worth a second of your time." The words left you in a rush as your emotions started to catch up.  "All the anger, the cruel words you've spoken. As if you did your utmost to push me away-"  "I DID!"

You blinked, confused as to why he shouted such words at you.  "Okay, now you elaborate. I don't understand what I did to deserve such treatment," you said and your voice turned lower and lower. Ah, there we go, here come the emotions... You felt tears sting your eyes as his grip around your wrists hardened. But that was not what made you cry, no it was the realisation that there was no going back and that the whole thing had been a horrible idea.  "You exist, that is enough." You knitted your brows at his gritted words.  "Excuse me for having the audacity to be born," you murmured as your throat was clogged by a knot of sadness and crying you tried to keep at bay. 

He chuckled, "you're amazing."  "What?"  "You're amazing," he repeated as your eyes met and he had an actual smile over his lips. You just gaped at him.  "You, (y/n), are utterly amazing and brilliant. All packaged in such a beautiful form. I do not think I have been able to have a single moment without you in my thoughts since I first saw you. And, it's wrong."  "What's wrong?" He smiled at your confusion.  "That I love you, want you. That I am desperate for you," he stated with that thunderous voice of his, "I have been since that moment you were introduced and I ran away the first chance I got." You gawked at him, his hold on your wrists softened as he lowered his eyes.  "I have done, everything, to push you away and keep you away. Everything, yet you, you just rose to the challenge. I think I still have burns from some of your remarks," he chuckled out and you wrung your hands free from him. Anger and rage pulsed through you like stinging wasps.

You shoved your hands against his chest so hard he stumbled backwards as he was unprepared.  "You mean to tell me I have been going through hell, been turned into this awful person, all because you love me?! Are you fucking kidding me, Severus?!" He gawked at you now.  "That's, the first time you've said my name." "Well of course! You never used mine! You seemed to make a damn point of never calling me by my name but you did with everyone else!"  "I never felt I had the right to utter such a beautiful word with this mouth that has said the foulest of things." You shuddered at his words, the deep darkness that thundered from his mouth. Then, you shuddered with anger again. 

"You fucking bastard," you growled, "you damn-" and words failed you as your heart sprung free from your mind and it took the reins. In the next moment, you crashed your lips against his. He stiffened for a mere second before his arms embraced you and his lips met yours eagerly.  "Bastard," you mumbled against his lips in between breaths, "stupid, stupid, stupid, bastard," you breathed out between crashing of lips against lips as he swallowed your words.  "I love you," he whispered against your mouth, "forgive me." You leaned back at that as you felt his tears grace your own skin. It was just tears, no crying or any other tell of the overwhelming emotions he felt for you. You reached up and kissed his lips softly, gently.  "No more running," you said and he nodded.  "No more hiding," you continued and he nodded yet again.  "No more anger, just love." He leaned in and kissed your neck as he hummed his acceptance of your terms.  "And, use my given name, you bastard," you smiled out and he chuckled against the skin of your neck.  "I will, (y/n)." You leaned into his embrace as your idea of him shattered, only to be replaced by a new one - one you loved deeply and was free of the hatred you had thought he had for you. 

"I love you," you whispered with a slightly broken voice.  "And I love you, I am, truly sorry," he said on a sigh.  "What's done is done, all we can do is mend the things that are broken and love each other from here on out."  "Perfectly put," he murmured as he straightened and looked at you. Your heart cheered its victory as your mind sulked over past hurts but you were too elated to take any notice of it. You reached up your hand to stroke his cheek before your hand gently snuggled into his hair and you dragged him towards you. Your lips met and a roaring howl of joy erupted from your heart as he passionately kissed you back. 

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

So, as I re-read and edited this I noticed I completely miss interpreted the request - but I am hoping this will do anyway :S <3

Tags: @lizlil @snapefiction  @morphineisouthoney​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @snapefiction​ @monstreviolet @bionic-otp​  @meteoritewolf69​ @flowerdementia @elizabeth-baelish

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[Jan:2021]

[alfredosauce50]

She’ll never know [Yandere! Iceland x reader]

Synopsis: Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident. Wordcount: 4,288 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It was supposed to be a drama-free ski trip. 

You were tagging along for the first time, sitting with him on the plane and sharing a room at the resort. Getting a seat next to you was a wildcard, for sure. But the latter was a given, considering it was Tino who made the sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone in the group, or anyone for that matter, you had always been the closest to Emil—the Finnish man was well aware of that.

Even then, he planned on sticking to you like a tattoo. For seven straight days, being with him also meant you would be in the company of a loud-mouthed Dane. And sometimes, he could be all up in your business. But he was safe for now, so long as he didn’t try anything on the plane. 

The soft murmuring of passengers and white noise of the cabin filled his ears as he walked down one of the aisles. Once you found your seats, he didn’t waste time to buckle himself in and get comfortable, all so he could pull out his phone. The last time you were with him, you both watched Interstellar. Well, most of it. 

“Em, this flight is a little over an hour. Why not take a nap instead?” You suggested, but he never slowed his movements to open Netflix.

While the downloaded video loaded, he pulled off his sweatshirt to ruffle up his silvery-white hair. Under that was a black graphic T-shirt with a cat on it. “Mm... No. We have to finish it while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Okay, fine. I didn’t wanna watch it right now because I’ll cry again.”

“So? Nobody’s gonna see.” 

Nobody except him. But you never minded, as you were already leaning over to finish the movie with him. His taste in sad movies rubbed off on you, and you were quick to tears. That, he was very familiar with. But besides crying, you also had a habit of falling asleep in his bed after staying up to watch things or play games. So it wasn’t weird to know how often you slept with him. 

Eventually, a strange chemistry started to brew between you both. 

A physical and emotional closeness so intimate, it was comparable to that of a relationship. But Emil never thought of things like that. Best friends could do this stuff, couldn’t they? Holding hands and sharing clothes was the norm. 

Drinking from the same cup was just a regular Tuesday.  

“Gimme some of your apple juice.” You whispered, feeling a little dry in the mouth after tearing up. Reaching out for his cup to take a few gulps, he furrowed his brows and grumbled. He was left with nothing but backwash. 

“I was gonna drink that.”

A few mischievous laughs fell from your lips. “There’s still some left.” Picking the cup up, you swished around the remaining contents, which wasn’t much. 

“This should be more than enough for you, you dehydrated gremlin. I’d encourage you to have more, but we both know you’d only have a sip whether I drank from it or not."

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he frowned. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You would. That’s why I left you a sip.”

“... Shut up.”

The plane landed not long after, and your spunk died down near the conclusion of the film. Yes, it was sad. And yes, you cried. Like Emil expected, you were going to be silent for a while. When everyone regrouped to walk around the airport, you stayed by his side and held his hand. At the platforms to wait for the train, you and him were inseparable—head on his shoulder and all. But in your defence, you were tired. And this wasn’t the first time.

If anybody else did this to him, he would be shoving them off. They could hit their head for all he cared. And that was precisely why Tino and Lukas were giving him funny looks in the carriage. 

Laughing quietly to themselves with a hand covering their mouths, they watched on with a devilish expression. “Huhuhu,” was what Emil heard as he sat comfortably in his seat, but he knew what it translated to. Look at you, holding her hand while she’s asleep. He simply turned away with rosy cheeks. He didn’t know what they were on about. This wasn’t weird at all. 

Yes, he wasn’t exactly the most touchy-feely with people, but you weren’t just anybody. And he knew he liked you, a lot at that, but it was perfectly platonic. 

Nobody was convinced, however. All except for the Dane who practically came bounding over from a few rows down. But it was likely he never even got the gist.

The train finally reached a slower, constant speed, so he was prepared to join the group for some small talk. Leaning down on the backrest, he laid his eyes on you and Emil with a grin. “Well, well, well. Don’t you two look cozy.” He commented, his voice making the boy glance up. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re going skiing today!”

“But hey—”Combing a hand through his wild and unruly locks of blonde, he smiled sheepishly. “Do you think I could sit with her on the way back?”

Just when he thought nothing could ruin this vacation, he was proven wrong. That was right. Mathias was the only other person present who actively showed you affection, and it always bothered him. God, the thought of you sitting with him for hours made him sick. 

“... Only if she wants to.” He mumbled, sinking lower into his seat to cause his hoodie to ride up. Since it was already on his head, it came drooping over his face to hide his dark purple eyes. There, he could read the other’s expression.

He could take a few things away from it. Right now, he was rubbing the nape of his neck while watching you snooze. Every time Mathias was expectant, he wouldn’t stop moving his hands. The sight made his frown deepen. When Lukas and Tino witnessed this, they looked away and shared the same thought. 

Just let him be, you idiot.

But Mathias didn’t quite get the memo, let alone read their minds.

So he stood up and responded with this. “Well, of course she’ll want to! Who wouldn’t sit next to me?” A brief silence fell around the group. Lukas coughed. Berwald continued to watch the mountainous landscape outside the window without a word, trailing his icy blue eyes over the snow that glowed purple at dawn. “Seriously, guys? This is why I like (F/N) the best. At least she’s nice to me.” 

Emil squeezed your hand as you slept. The tightness in his chest only seemed to worsen by the second. And it showed in his visible discomfort. Lowering his head, he let his fringe fall over his eyes.

“... She’s nice to everyone.” 

The blonde shrugged while closing his eyes in a look of satisfaction. 

“If you’re gonna be train buddies, then we can be skiing buddies. Right, (F/N)?” Reaching down to your head, he tipped it gently in a nod before saying this. “Of course, Mathias! You’re my favorite.” 

As if. 

“That was a terrible impression.” 

“What impression?” 

He huffed under his breath. They hadn’t even arrived at the resort, and he was already dreading the next seven days. This gut feeling turned out to be right, because it only seemed to get worse. 

***

Shortly after arriving, everyone dropped off their things before leaving to get right into the sport. After napping for nearly two hours, you were replenished with the energy to go skiing. Despite being quite the skilled skier himself, Mathias was kind enough to accompany you on the easier slopes. More accurately put, he was jumping at the opportunity to teach you. 

Hell, he’d been waiting outside your room to take you to the ski lifts. The moment you opened the door, you were greeted by the man all geared up, with goggles on and all. 

“Morning. You ready to roll? Or, slide?” He asked. 

Seeing him so eager was cute, so you were obliged to follow, leaving Emil alone in the room. When said boy left the bathroom after freshening up, he saw the door close behind you. “Sorry, Emil! I’m gonna go ahead! I’ll see you outside!” 

And just like that, you were gone. Dropping his face towel off on a chair, he dug his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply. Since when was the last time he felt this much anguish? Yes, he was rooming with you. But that was only at night. Daytime meant you would be with Mathias. He had no place complaining, considering he wasn’t the best at skiing. Nothing he could do about that. 

He changed out of his T-shirt and into his snow gear with a sigh. 

His excitement to go skiing was gone. 

And if he wasn’t going to ski, he’d be holed up in his room. His logic told him this was selfish, but he wanted you to stay with him more than anything. 

You returned late in the afternoon as the sun was going down, but he’d been staying inside ever since lunch. Perking up at the sound of the door creaking open, he forced his head down and popped his earphones in. After you set your things down and changed to more comfortable clothes, you walked over to the bed and found a bump under the blanket. Lifting it up by the hem, you found him curled up with his phone. 

His earphones fell out. “(F/N)?” 

“Who else would it be, dummy? I was wondering where you went.” You kicked off your slippers and slid right in. He didn’t know how much he’d been longing for this until now—the feeling of you laying next to him in bed. But he couldn’t get carried away yet. It wasn’t even night yet.

A displeased expression contorted at your features, but it melted away as you pulled his phone away. 

“H-Hey!” He tried reaching out for it, but it was already on the bedside table. 

“No more screen time for you.” You tapped him on the nose. “How else am I gonna get your lazy ass out of bed?” He knitted his brows together and rolled into you to hide his face. Then, he curled two arms around you, albeit slowly.

“To do what?”

“To ski, duh.” 

He squeezed you. “But I don’t want to.” Emil’s wintry white locks were soft against your chest, and you felt his body heat waft over to yours. It was a sure fire sign he’d been under the covers for too long. That was when an idea struck him. This would definitely get you to stay with him for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he was lucky. “I... feel kinda sick.” 

Your smile fell and you immediately reached out to cup his cheeks, then clamp a hand over his forehead. When he felt your touch as you checked his temperature, his heart rate escalated. He was on cloud nine. 

“... Oh no... You’re a bit warm. I think it’s best that you stay in bed. But don’t use too many blankets, or your fever will get worse.”

The sensation of your hands on him was to die for, and the thought that you were worried about him made it better. Nobody would have expected this trait from the usually detached boy, but he was secretly clingy. And he had the most subtle ways of showing it. An example would be lying about feeling unwell, but he didn’t feel bad about it at all. 

A headache was pounding in his skull, and it wasn’t wrong to say he was upset. And plus, if this worked, you could stay with him. He could practically feel a smile creeping to his lips at the thought, but he hid half of his face with the blanket. “... Are you gonna ski tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

You craned your head to the side in thought. 

“Only if you can. Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

Blood rushed up to his face and he nodded. “Okay.” 

Reaching out to his cheek again, you groaned. “Oh my god. Why are you so hot? Hold on. I’m gonna find you an ice pack.” You slid off the bed, but not before giving him an affectionate pinch. He made a soft noise in protest. “I think this is a sign for you to fix your sleep schedule and stop eating instant.” 

Before you left, he reached out to grab your wrist. 

“What is it?”

He released you after a few moments. “... Nothing...” 

You smiled weirdly. “Okay, hun. Give me a ring if you need anything.” 

A couple hours later, the group gathered for dinner in a nearby restaurant. Despite the freezing temperatures that dropped significantly at night, Mathias insisted to sit outside at the balcony to enjoy the views. The views in question weren’t even that visible with how dark out it was. There was nothing but faint outlines of mountains stretching on for miles into the horizon. 

Much to Emil’s displeasure, you insisted that he sit opposite you. Understandable, because it was closer to the indoors where the warm air was wafting out of. But that only meant you’d sit next to the Dane, and he was quick to notice you shivering lightly in the cold. 

Like him, you had a sweater on, but he was the human heater, not you. Curling an arm around your shoulders with a softened gaze, he rubbed your arm up and down. Almost like how a boyfriend would to their girlfriend. 

And Emil witnessed it all happen. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf, min elskede. Do you want my sweater as well?” He laughed, to where you shook your head profusely. 

Did he just call you ‘my love’ in Danish? Since when did he start calling you that? And he was offering his clothes to you as well? He thought only he did that. Gripping the hem of his hoodie with clammy hands, he lowered his head as his heart started to sting. Fuck. He hated this feeling. 

But what he saw next made it unfathomable. 

“No, of course not! I can deal with this. You’d be crazy to take it off—" He lifted his sweater up and threw it over his head, the action making his t-shirt ride up. “—and, you’re taking it off.” He fixed his top before sliding the knit over you. Pulling it down so you could fit your arms through the arm holes, you were overwhelmed with his smell, and not to mention, completely encased with warmth. 

He was now left in nothing but a T-shirt.

“That better?” Mathias grinned.

“Yes, you idiot. But if you catch a cold because of me, you won’t be the only sick one in the group.” You grumbled under a blush, a little embarrassed he actually gave you his sweater. “Thank you, though.”

His stomach churned. His breathing deepened. Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, he started to spiral down a path of self-destructive thoughts. Did he always like you that much? He lifted his gaze to you, and found you carrying on with your usual banter with the Dane. Did you always like him that much? You laughed. Emil bit his lip. It always made him euphoric to hear you laugh, but knowing it wasn’t him that was responsible for it made him feel an unpleasant mix of all kinds of things. Sadness, anger, and a violent kind of jealousy.

So shortly after finishing his food, he stood up and left without a word. That silenced the chatter at the table, and everyone called out to him. But he was too quick on his feet.

You’d never seen him do something like that. Either he was nauseous, or something was really wrong. “He’d got a fever, so maybe he’s going to... You know. I’ll check on him.” With that said, you stood up and took Mathias’s sweater off. “Here. Just in case I don’t come back.”

Jogging up to your room, you were relieved to see that your instincts were right on the mark. Emil had retreated back here, and was currently hiding under the covers. Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees. "Em? Are you okay? Did you puke?”

“... No.” His voice was thick and nasally.

And that pointed to one thing.

The poor boy was crying.

Breathing out a soft sigh, you removed all your layers until you were in your undergarments. Lifting up the corner of the blanket, you joined him before wrapping your arms around his form. “I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can tell me anything. I won’t be weirded out or judge you. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

He popped his head out from under the blanket to reveal his flushed face stained with tears.

“... Anything?”

You hummed. “Mmhm. Anything.”

Emil paused for a moment. Frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling like this. Perhaps he did, he just didn’t want to say it. That maybe, everyone was right about him. That what he felt about you was anything but innocent. The signs were all there. He’d never been this attached to anyone, ever, and even if he was, he would’ve hid it to some degree. But not with you. He’d been all over you since the start of the trip, and even now, he had his arms looped around your neck. And when other people decided to do the same to you, he was choked with turbulent emotions.

It even got to the point of intrusive thoughts. Back at the dinner table, all he could think about aside from worrying about this relationship was this—something terrible happening to Mathias. He didn’t want him to be there. He just wished he’d disappear, even for a little while.

When he realized these desires, he knew he couldn’t tell you. But there was still something he wanted. “... I’m fine now. But I just wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned. “Doesn’t look like you’re fine. You can’t keep brushing it off and expect me to let it go.”

“You’re right. But I promise I’ll feel better after this.”

“... Alright. But the next time this happens, I’m not letting you off the hook.” You murmured, reaching out to give his cheek a pat. “What did you wanna ask me?”

He flickered his eyes down to your lips. Then, he returned his gaze, but his stare felt a little hot on you for some reason. It never crossed your mind that he was hugging you around your neck, but it did now. “Would you ever...” Emil blushed darkly. “... Kiss me?”

You blinked at the unexpected question, but reacted nevertheless. The red flushing his cheeks spread to yours as you strung together the words to respond. “Well... I’m not disgusted or anything. We’re really close, so I wouldn’t mind kissing you.” You answered honestly, but that didn’t change the fact that you were curious why he even asked such a thing. “... Why?”

“I just wanted to know.” Emil mumbled. “Would you kiss anyone else?”

“No. That would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

His heart started to pound in euphoria. But the longer he lingered on what you said, his heart began to pound with another emotion.

“If you’d kiss me, then would you kiss me now?”

You had a feeling things would pan out this way. But you didn’t mind it in the least, in fact, you kind of wanted to do this. Leaning in to him, you heard his breath hitch from the close proximity. “... Maybe. But only a short one, because you’re sick.” Pressing your lips to his for short and sweet peck, he squeezed his arms around you and pulled you in again. Attaching his mouth to yours for a deeper kiss, he caught you off guard by the sudden build-up in intensity.

His coils around your neck tightened, and for the next few minutes or so, he kept kissing you. He just couldn’t stop moving his mouth with yours, nibbling on your lips ever so often. It felt too good. He never thought he’d ever be able to do this, but he was never going back now.

Everything he’d ever done with you now felt like child’s play. How could he have resisted these feelings for so long? Rolling you onto your back, he loomed over you and continued to make out with you on the bed. The connection between your mouths was starting to feel hot. The taste of yours only grew more prominent, and that was how he knew he was denouncing everything he used to have with you. He couldn’t take it, being friends with you. Emil had always been clingy. Jealous. And he was facing the truth—the reason.

He liked you. In every way you could like someone. But that wasn’t all. He was obsessed with you.

That night, you fell asleep on his chest.

To say he was satisfied with these developments was an understatement. He always thought of himself as your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But he was relieved he finally accepted he really felt about you. So there was no need to pretend to be sick anymore.

He felt like skiing again, especially when you had another reason to be with him instead of Mathias.

The next day was a blast.

He finally got to try the intermediate slope thanks to your encouragement, and he could officially say he wasn’t terrible at skiing. And he continued to explore the harder slopes the day after as well.

Sometime in the afternoon, he returned back to the resort for a hot drink break. Taking a seat in the dining hall, he overheard two familiar voices. He swallowed down what he had in his mouth before listening in to their conversation. Hm. Was that... Mathias? And Lukas? Those two have always been pretty close, so he could already guess that their conversation would include pretty confidential contents. But it wasn’t his fault they held it in his earshot, right?

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking. I really like... You know. And I wanted to ask her out.”

“You mean (F/N)? Good luck trying to separate her from Emil. If they somehow don’t already like each other, then maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“Nah, it’s worth a shot! He isn’t the type to be in a relationship, anyway.”

Emil froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The memories of that conversation replayed in his head like a broken record. Even while he was enjoying the cold night air as he skied later that day, he couldn’t stop lingering on it. Fuelling the anger he felt a few days ago. So that was why he gave you his sweater. Gliding through the soft blankets of snow, he never slowed down. Nobody knew you were dating him yet, but that only reinforced the fact that this relationship was new. Nothing was set in stone yet. And that only meant things could change, wouldn’t it?

His chest tightened and he slowed to a stop. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

As if the world wanted to test that statement, his attention was stolen by a gap in the snow fencing. It looked as if something shot through it, or more accurately put, crashed into it and broke it. Sliding himself closer to take a better look, he was shocked to find a body outside the barriers. A skier. He must’ve swerved too hard and passed out from possible head trauma.

But Emil soon discovered it wasn’t just any random ‘he’. The clothes and gear were all too familiar. Could it be? His blonde hair gave it all away. This skier wasn’t a stranger. It was Mathias.

He was laying on his side with half his head submerged in white.

Upon realizing their identity, the fear-induced urgency to call for help suddenly subsided. Instead, he turned around, and skied away, slowly, back to the resort. What was he doing? Was he seriously going to leave him out in the snow where he could easily die? Emil couldn’t stop himself from moving. Was he seriously that upset? It was clear. He was.

But he knew he didn’t want him to die.

Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone, not until an hour later, at least.

He didn’t know what was going through his head. But he knew what he felt. He wanted him to get sick at least. That would incapacitate him for a while, but not forever.

Sure enough, when the search and rescue found him, he was down with a bad case of hypothermia. He was immediately tended to by medical professionals, and it was revealed that he wouldn’t have made it if Emil never brought up the matter that Mathias had been missing. The color drained from his face when he heard that, and he never felt this guilty in his life. But it was short-lived. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

He secured you in his arms as you cried softly into his chest. Nobody had to know about this. Especially not you, who warbled out how thankful you were that he remembered Mathias’s disappearance.

As he kissed your tears away, the only thought that repeated in his head was this.

She’ll never know.

[casualmaraudering]

you'd better write a fluffy thing of Remus calming down and doing back and admitting that of course that's what he wants but he feels like he doesn't deserve it and then Sirius asks again and he says yes or so help me god...

@cunningambitousdetermined

whoops this is LATe but anyways, here it is at last, i reread that and felt guilty so here is a happier ending

sequel to this, but can be read as a standalone!

*

In retrospect, Remus agrees he could’ve handled things a little differently.

In his defence, though, it really hasn’t been a great week.

He didn’t get a refill of his anxiety medication because the pharmacy near his flat closed, and so he didn’t take any and turned into an overly emotional mess, and he got his period, so he’s been a fucking wreck. His electric kettle broke on Tuesday so he couldn’t make any tea in the morning. Then his cat got sick, and Remus nearly cried when she hadn’t eaten her breakfast for the second day in a row and then didn’t even protest when he took her to the vet. And, on top of all that, his neighbours had a party on Saturday, and Remus woke up on Sunday with a throbbing headache and the most unpleasant mood he’s been in in months.

And then Sirius came over, dragging him out to dinner - Remus just wanted to lay in bed. But Sirius insisted, and, as usual, if Sirius wanted something, he usually got it. 

The dinner was bearable, though added more to Remus’s irritation and headache - everything was noisy, smelled too strong, and he was tired. The end of the meal was a blessing, and Remus couldn’t even argue about Sirius paying (he was fairly sure it was his turn to pay for a date, but he just didn’t care that day). Sirius drove them to Remus’s flat, and Remus was ready to crawl into bed, maybe inviting Sirius with him if he was up for a cuddle.

He hadn’t exactly expected to be sitting on the couch with Sirius in front of him on one knee, a black box with a shiny ring inside of it in his hand.

And once he initially flinched, and knew that Sirius saw that he did, he panicked. 

It’s not that I don’t want to! It’s just- it’s a bit early. We don’t even live together, a-and we’re still figuring things out, I don’t think it’d be wise to get married now.  Hell, do we really need to get married? I think it’s a bit obnoxious and stupid, we don’t want that, I don’t think I want that.

He went a bit overboard, yes, but it was a shitty week and once he saw the hesitation on Sirius’s face, he started babbling whatever came to his mind.

It’s been on his mind constantly since then - and it’s been days now. Sirius hadn’t texted, nor called, but it’s not like Remus can blame him. He fucked up. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sirius chose to dump him now.

What a way to just flush six years down the drain.

On day 8 since then, Remus wakes up to Lily sitting at his kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee.

“I’ve heard you broke someone’s heart recently.”

Remus groans, taking a seat opposite her, laying his head on the table. He loves her, but she’d always been incredibly straightforward, and that’s not what he needs right now.

“I fucked up, is that what you want to hear?”

“Not necessarily,” she says calmly, sipping her coffee. “You’ve no obligation to say yes when someone proposes to you. I was, however, under the impression that it’s what you want. You’ve dated him for, what, seven years now?”

“Seven in August, yeah,” Remus mumbles, burying his face into the corner of his elbow - he’s been wearing the same sweater for days now, and it’s starting to smell stale. “I mean. Would be, if I didn’t just do that.”

“Are you over, then?”

“I doubt he wants to date me after this.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“No.”

“Tell me what happened, then,” Lily puts her mug down and crosses her arms. “He’s really hurt and thinks you said no cause he’s not good husband material. And,” she smiles slightly at him. “I know you. And I know you were looking at wedding bands when we went to get my necklace fixed last month. So spill.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, feeling his face heat up.

“I had an awful week and it just- bad timing, I guess,” he says defeatedly. “I know it’s a bad excuse but I was a mess and then in comes he and drops this huge thing on me and I just… I panicked. And once I didn’t say anything and I saw the fucking defeated look in his eyes I started talking, and that just made it worse.”

Lily sighs, but she has a smile on her face still.

“Typical you,” she replies, amused. “You could’ve told him you just didn’t expect it.”

“Well, when have I ever reacted well in a stressful situation?”

“Talk to him,” Lily ignores him. “You’re getting dressed, and we’re going over to his flat, where you’re going to tell him that you’ll marry him, buy a house with a picket fence and have a bunch of babies together. Simple as that.”

“What makes you think he even wants to see me?” Remus protests. “You didn’t see the look on his face, he was crushed-”

“And it’s why you need to fix it right now. Come on. Shoes on, I’m taking you to his place.”

*

When Sirius opens the door, Remus feels like his heart will drum out of his chest and drop right in front of his feet. Sirius doesn’t shut the door on him when he sees him, but neither of them say anything for a touch too long, to the point Remus starts feeling unbelievably awkward.

“Uhm,” Sirius starts, his cheeks already red, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Hi.” 

He steps to the side, letting Remus in. He notices Sirius is still in the clothes he usually sleeps in, which is rather odd - usually he’d be out of bed long ago. 

“So, what do you-”

“I panicked,” Remus says quickly, before his anxiety can talk him out of it. “I had the worst week ever, Sugar got sick, my stomach was cramping, I was out of my meds, I was tired and my head was hurting and I just wanted to go to sleep but I didn’t want to be rude so I went to that restaurant with you and then I was so exhausted but then you- and I-I… I didn’t know what to do,” Remus breathes out, blinking rapidly and hoping he won’t cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging or say anything I’ve said, I-I just… it was the worst possible timing in the world and I don’t do well with things springing on me unexpectedly. I don’t know what you want to do now, you can break up with me cause I hurt you in like the most possible way but that’s honestly what-”

He stops talking as Sirius pulls him into his arms, crushing him into a hug. Remus blinks, confused at first, but then finds his head resting on Sirius’s shoulder - he’s missed that so damn much.

“You should’ve said,” Sirius says weakly - Remus thinks he hears a hint of tears in his voice, but he can’t be sure. 

“I panicked,” Remus mumbles. “And by the time I started rambling, I couldn’t stop and didn’t even know what I was saying.”

“So, uhm- if I- if I asked-”

“Yes,” he immediately replies, pulling away so he can look at Sirius’s face.  “Sirius Black, you’re the love of my goddamn life and I would love to marry you. As long as you don’t mind me being, well… me.”

“You being you is the best part,” Sirius whispers - and he is crying, now. “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask.”

“I just want to make sure,” he smiles. “Last time I asked something I was sure you’d say yes to, you said no, so I have to double check.”

“Okay, now I might say no, you ass.”

Sirius laughs, and nuzzles their noses together, pressing his lips to Remus’s for a short moment. 

“We’re telling everyone that we got engaged in a restaurant, though,” Sirius tells him. “It was extremely romantic, you said yes and cried.”

“Only if you also cried. And we can always do that,” Remus glances at the clock he knows is on Sirius’s hallway wall. “Less of a surprise this time, so I won’t panic. We might even get a free dessert. And you can make that cute speech again.”

Sirius’s bites his lip, his cheeks turning a pinkish shade.

“If you promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

Remus smiles, and kisses Sirius again.

“Cross my heart.”

[ravenquingvax]

I'm never gonna properly write for it, but I keep imagining this AU where Percy is an ex-gang member of Vecna's gang.

Maybe Percy killed someone important to Vecna or he stole money, idk, but he's on the run and shit comes back to bite him in the ass.

(This has been inspired by the song "You Can Run" by Adam Jones, btw, as I've had it on repeat for 2 days now)

So uh, here, I guess. Feel free to take this and make into something more solid -

Percy comes from a wealthy family that went into debt. To try and help his parents, Percy looks for work and finds himself being recruited into a gang ran by an intimidating man known only as Vecna.

Vecna's right hand woman, Delilah Briarwood, and her husband, Sylas Briarwood, take a quick likening to Percy and introduce him to their adoptive daughter, Anna.

Anna and Percy make fast friends, until one day Percy catches Anna betraying the gang's plans to another gang.

Percy confronts her alone, thinking he can handle it, but a fight breaks out and Anna gets shot in the abdomen.

Percy panics, trying to stop the bleeding, but Delilah walks in and all hell breaks out.

Percy has to run and he does, running faster than he ever has before in all his life.

He moves to a different city, laying low and doing odd jobs to keep himself afloat.

One day he runs into Keyleth, a young florist struggling to make ends meet, being harassed by some idiot. He defends her, quite publicly too, and is spotted by one of Vecna's many members.

And thus, Percy accidentally gets Keyleth targeted by Vecna's gang.

Cue Vax'ildan, Keyleth's boyfriend and also a former gang member (who also left on bad terms with his old boss) turned tattoo artist, chasing Percy down thinking he's put a hit out on Keyleth.

When he realises Percy's situation, tho, he feels like helping the poor bastard out. He knows what this is like.

Through this, Percy meets Vax's sister and an esteemed defence attorney, Vex'ahlia.

Soon, the men after Keyleth disappear mysteriously and things calm down for Percy.

Percy falls hard for Vex, fast, while she and Vax help him change his identity and disappear from Vecna's gaze.

Percy becomes a mechanic, becomes friends with the twins and Keyleth as well as his fellow mechanics, Grog, Tary and Pike, even with Pike's husband Scanlan.

Life gets really good;

Percy & Vex start dating, Vax & Keyleth get engaged and Taryon gets a boyfriend.

But then Percy slips up somehow, takes the wrong driver's license while out one day running errands and one of Vecna's spies see it, call it in.

Percy is followed home.

Then, during the night, Percy and Vex wake up to several armed intruders who don't seem to like Percy very much.

"Percy... Friends of yours?"

"Friends isn't the word I'd use."

Then Vecna swaggers in, grinning, baseball bat in hand.

Percy feels his world crashing down around him as he and Vex are manhandled out of bed to be tied up by Vecna's men.

"Percival, long time no see, it's been a while."

"I was hoping it'd stay that way, personally."

"Ahah, oh, dear Percival, quite the funnyman as always."

Then the baseball bat just narrowly misses Percy's face, crashing into the bed behind him instead, Vex screams.

"Don't mistake this as a social call, my friend, this is but business. No, you know exactly what I'm here for."

Vecna steps near Vex.

"Leave Vex out of this! It's me you want, not her!"

"Ah, but such a pretty thing, just like her brother... Would be a shame if anything happened to either of them, no? The boy just got engaged, didn't he?"

"Leave my brother out of this, you bastard!"

Vex's demand met only by laughter, her anger outweighing her fear.

Percy, shaking, terrified for his girlfriend and her twin, for all of their friends-

"What do you want?! I'll do whatever it is, just leave my family out of it!"

"Ah, ever the smart man, Perce! You took something of mine, however, so I must take something of yours... Insurance, to make sure you cooperate, you could say..."

"We don't have much in the way of money or valuables-"

"Ah, but I'm not after things of material value, Percy. No. I want you to have some... Motivation! You know... To do as I say, when I say?"

"Please, leave Vex out of this, I'm begging you!"

Percy, scared for his love, scared of what Vax would do if she got hurt because of him-

"Ah, but she's not it either, as I already have my insurance, Percival - Though, a matching set would fetch a far prettier price should you fail to live up to expectations, my boy."

"No! Leave Vax alone!"

"He killed my men, it's only fair I take him as punishment."

Percy hadn't know what Vax had done back then to save his sorry ass, but he feels sick knowing Vax did what he did because of him.

And hearing the devastation in Vex's voice is the final nail in Percy's coffin here, knowing Vax's life is in danger now.

"Alright! Alright! Whatever it is, I'll do it! Just please, don't hurt Vax! Or anyone else!"

Vecna laughs.

"A little late for that, your good friend put up quite the fight and my men may of had a little fun beating him down."

"You bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Oh, Vex'ahlia darling, I'd like to see you try, my girl."

"You fucking asshole!"

Percy, staring in horror at Vex as she hollers and shouts at Vecna, threatening the man.

Vex, furious and shaking, thrashing around to escape.

Vecna just keeps laughing.

"Maybe I'll keep the boy as my personal punching bag, or I could sell him to the highest bidder? What do you think?"

"I think you're making the biggest mistake of your life!"

"Or perhaps I can hand him to the Briarwoods, what do you think, Percy? Maybe that would take their minds off of you murdering their sweet Anna. Sylas has been wanting a pet to play with and Delilah could use another lab rat"

And Percy goes pale.

"She didn't make it?"

"What else is it did you think I meant by you taking something from me? The girl was smart and promising, Perce, the loss is felt."

"I didn't want to kill her, I swear! But she was up to something! I needed to know what it was!"

"Are you suggesting that a long standing and much trusted family member was planning on betraying her family and her gang? Oh, Percival..."

And Vecna shakes his head, tutting and sighing.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"I'm telling the truth!"

Percy can't look at Vex right now, can't think of what she must be feeling right now.

Everything he's worked for, ruined in minutes.

"Well, in any case, you still owe me a favour... Unless you'd rather we just get this over with and I have Sylas execute the brother instead?"

"No!!"

And Percy balks.

"No! No! Leave him alone! I'll do whatever it is you want!"

"Good, because I really do like that boy, he has fire in him."

"Just... What is it? What must I do to make this go away?"

"I have a friend, a fellow by the name of Orthax, and he's been crossed by some folks... He needs them taken care of."

"You want me to become an assassin for you?"

Percy feels sick.

Vex is gaping in horror.

"It's just 8 people, Percy, and then this is all over."

"You can promise that?"

"I can guarantee it, my friend, and I never break promises."

"Who are they?"

"In due time, in due time... Now, we're going to untie you before we go, please don't do anything... Rash. I'd hate to have to kill you or your beloved, or her brother at that."

Percy and Vex tense, but stay quiet and let themselves be untied, staying still.

"Good, excellent. I'll leave the list on your dresser along with your new gun... Orthax made it just for you, be appreciative."

"Do I have a time limit?"

"Let's say... You have two weeks, then I'll give away the brother to either my best people or to the highest bidder - Depends on how I'm feeling on the day, you understand?"

"It'll be done before then, I can assure you that."

"So they all say, Percival."

And with that, Vecna and his men start to leave, but then Vecna pauses at the doorway.

"Oh, and, Percy? Don't trying running away again - I mean, I don't mind it, run all you like... But just remember, you can't hide. I'll always find you."

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"Good... Have a good night."

And with that, the couple are left kneeling on their bedroom floor, crying and shaking.

Percy stands first, heading for the list and weapon.

Vex stands next, sitting on their bed, fuming silently.

Then Percy gags and drops the list before running out.

"Perce?"

She gets up, swallowing.

Who did Percy have to murder just so Vax wouldn't be killed or whatever? How bad was it?

Who was to be killed in change for Vax's very life?

She bends down and picks the sheet of paper up, turning it over and reading the names;

Frederickstein de Rolo

Johanna de Klossowski

Julius de Rolo

Vesper de Rolo

Oliver de Rolo

Whitney de Rolo

Ludwig de Rolo

Cassandra de Rolo

[straighttohellbuddy]

i accept the ring!! also it’s coming up to a year of me pestering you i think and that’s pretty rad. but ye. i love your work and how you tel a story. it captivates and you out so much hard work in and it’s clear. you’ve created works and worlds (htlgi universe my beloved) that being genuine joy and a form of comfort when i’m feeling the need to just. not exist for a lil bit. you’re amazing and i love you and i’m proud of all that you’ve done 🥺 🧡-🐈‍⬛

I LOVE YOU SO DAMN MUCH DUDE🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Its never pestering, I love your asks and i appreciate that you let me use your asks to ramble about things in my fics that im excited about (📍put a pin in that)

I put so much love and passion into my works I genuinely don't have the words to tell you how much your kindness means to me. The idea that I can bring you joy from my silly little stories,,,,, everything is worth it. Im trying to be the joy I want to see in the world.

But also Also 📍 please excuse me but I've been writing idiots to lovers finale and I've gotten too invested in the dsmp for that universe and I really want to talk about it!!! Im already too invested.

Sorry this is going to be long and rambly!!

So the reader is Sam's younger sibling in the smp canon, and he introduced them to Dream and they ended up being incredibly fond of Dream ("In my defence, it happened because we have natural chemistry, I didn't realise it would be foreshadowing." - cc!reader)

They're far more on the creeper side of their hybrid nature than their brother, which includes the fact that cc!reader has alluded to the fact that Yes, it's been coded into the game that they can detonate, they just haven't used it . Yet. They have all 3 of their canon lives still.

They were always seen as kind of sweet and naive, the stereotype younger sibling who was practically raised by their older brother and looks up to him as their hero, and their whole character arc is about how they're sick of people treating them like a child, and they end up working security at Las Nevadas (because the reader is, like I think I've said before, scary good at pvp, and yes the smp is partially scripted but still).

HOWEVER because they were usually on Dream's side in the early days of the smp, and because they're canonically pining for him, they're kind of a Dream apologist, and as such their view of Sam and their relationship with him had shattered to where they barely speak to him anymore. they haven't been allowed to visit Dream, and so Quackity has kept his mouth shut about his visits so they don't know the truth because they're good friends and he'd like to keep it that way. AND ANOTHER THING since their role of older brother/father figure is open, and they've become close with the Las Nevadas gang, they've decided to cling to both Q and Foolish to fill those roles respectively.

The widely established canon is dnf has always been closer to being canon with pining reader on the side. Sometimes, lately however, it has been dipping into SLIGHTLY, VAGUELY yandere territory from the reader. Slightly.

Their aesthetic shifted over time from VERY cottage core to the vaguely mafia aesthetic Las Nevadas has going on. The fanart usually depicts them with green hair or even possibly green skin, sometimes scales, sometimes it looks more like moss or tree bark. Canonically only a few inches shorter than Sam but Everyone acts like they're looking down on them. Even the literal teenagers. Hence, the Tough Guy Arc.

Notable Fanfics Include:

- Always Be Eating Our Own | 12k (one-shot) | Teen

Fundy says they're not allowed to call them daddy issues since Sam isn't even their dad, and his dad blew up a country; he'd know from daddy issues. Quackity tells him not to be a dick; Sam raised them, he can give Y/N daddy issues if that's what they want to call them. Y/N, for the third time this week, considers quitting.

OR: Everyone in Las Nevadas likes to focus on a problem that's not their own, and this week everyone but Y/N has decided it's Y/N's turn to try and be fixed.

(Some Tags: #Y/N & Awesamdude , #Y/N & Quackity & Foolish , #Y/N & Las Nevadas Crew , #Y/N/DreamWasTaken (mentioned) , #Team as Family , #Sibling Rivalry , #Fluff & Angst)

- sharpest tools cut the deepest | 60k (ongoing) | Explicit

Contrary to popular belief, Dream isn't blind to how Y/N feels, but to him they've always just been Sam's kid sibling; even if they weren't a kid, it still kind of felt like puppy love. Maybe the reason he'd never outright rejected them at first was to simply boost his ego, as selfish as that may sound. However, considering his predicament, if they haven't moved on, they could very well be the linchpin for his best escape plan yet.

And they haven't. At first a blessing, perhaps a curse.

-

"we use each other in bad taste

and i can't change. i can't change. i can't."

(#Y/N/DreamWasTaken , #Manipulative Dream , #Manipulative Y/N , #Yandere!Y/N , #Alternate Universe: Canon Divergence , #Unhealthy Relationships , #Power Dynamics , #Breath Play , #Praise Kink , #Friends(?) to Lovers(?) to Enemies(?) , #bruh they need Therapy , #idk how to tag sibling loathing but sibling loathing)

- EYE-CATCHING HEADLINE (and add an exclamation mark) | 2.6k oneshot | Teen | <- Part 6 of the If I Knew It Came With Reaponsibility I Wouldn't Have Kept The Powers series ->

Nobody reads newspapers anymore, Tommy reasons, so why is this one so passionately talking shit about him with the confidence of the whole world watching.

// Powers AU except Y/N just runs the local paper, doesn't realise their best friend is the local villain The Chessmaster, and that the teenager who keeps @ing them on Twitter in rants is the hero Dodger they keep calling a menace.

(#Y/N & DreamWasTaken , #Wilbur Soot & Tommyinnit , #Alternate Universe: Modern Setting , #Alternate Universe: Powers, #y/n is just jonah jameson , #i wrote this instead of sleeping)

- Butcher; noun. | 8k (oneshot) | Mature

They called themselves butchers, an army, but turned around and called Y/N cute in a bloody apron.

(#Y/N & Awesamdude , #Y/N & Dream , #Y/N & Quackity , #Y/N & Technoblade , #Character Study , #Villain Arc , #Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Mini playlist for idiots-to-lovers dsmp!reader:

Teen Idle by MARINA

Motion Sickness by Pheobe Bridgers

Crave You by Flight Facilities

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Heather by Conan Gray

And finally, animatic set to Achilles Come Down about Y/N finding out about Dream being imprisoned, confronting Sam, and being distraught, eventually found by Q, who offers them friendship, and is the first person to truly take them seriously.

Okay Jesus I'm done I promise!! But I just had this idea that sparked in the back of my head abt what their character would be like in the smp and now I care too much. This isn't even going to be that relevant to the idiots to lovers fic beyond a passing mention. I care too much 😅😅

[marvelfansince08love]

Secret Love

Word Count: 1720 

Pairing: Tammy x Female!Reader 

Prompts “I can’t live...not without you” “Wait, say that again?” “How could you be so irresponsible?!”

Warning: Some mention of injuries, angst with happy ending. 

A/N: For anon, thank you for sending in the request! Sorry for the slow posting I’ve had a hectic week and finally got to see my girlfriend after 14 weeks! I should be posting a lot more this coming week so enjoy! :) 

Also Tammy’s husband is called Hank in this.. if you know you know. Since we don’t know what he’s called and what HER LAST NAME IS Lmao

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this, a diamond always💛

I do not own this gif! 🖤

Prompts 17,18,20

"Oh, my god! Y/N, what happened to your face?!" Tammy exclaims, her face distraught at the sight of your cut up lip and bruised face as you walk through the door of her suburban home. She races forward and tenderly reaches out to touch the hot skin making you flinch away from her touch before muttering.

"I'm fine Tam, the guy got lucky and managed one good hit. I'm okay," you reassure her while gently removing her weary hands away from your face. She wrenches her hand free from your grasp and paces angrily in front of you while the others awkwardly filter into the house and head towards the kitchen area, leaving you with the angry blonde in the hallway.

“What the hell happened?!” She exclaims hands placed on her hips, a worrying frown in place. 

"Look me, Lou, Deb and Daph were out in a bar and some guys tried hitting on Debbie and Daphne, so Lou and I tried stepping in to get them to leave them alone. Turns out, some guys don't like being told to back off by a pair of "girls" and you know I bruise like a peach," you murmur, wincing slightly as the cut on your bottom lip rubs against your top lip as you speak. 

"How could you be so irresponsible?!" She exasperated wearing a hole into the floor from her pacing. You watch as Tammy's big brown eyes scan every inch of you with worry making you squirm slightly under her tense gaze. Her eyes finally meet yours and soften at your lost puppy, doe-eyed look.

"Come on, let's get you seated in the living room and cleaned up, maybe get you some pain killers. Are you hurting elsewhere?" She asks softly, gently wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You bask in her warm embrace for a moment, loving the close contact before stepping away slightly realising your place.

She's married Y/N, get over yourself.

She frowns confused at your quick retreat but focuses on getting you seated and grabbing ice from the kitchen. You hear low voices arguing between one another from the kitchen area making you grin softly, knowing that Tammy is probably scolding Debbie and Lou for bringing you back in this state. ‘Ever the mother hen of the group’ you smile to yourself. 

A few moments later Tammy renters the room, alone.

"Where are the other two? You haven't sent them to their rooms, have you?" You tease trying to ease the tension, it seems to work a little as a small smile spreads across her face making your heart flutter at the sight.

God, she's beautiful.

"No, I've sent them to the bottom step so they can think about what they've done.” She jokes before continuing “I’ve sent them home actually. I’m sure I can take care of you by myself," She teases back before taking a seat on the leg rest in front of you and making quick work at cleaning your cut lip. She gently daps at the dried-up blood making you wince causing her to hush you softly.

"You were big enough to get into a fight, so you can brave me cleaning your lip." She chastised.

"Hey! I didn't just get 'into a fight' Tam. He started it, I was just defending Daph- "

She laughs out loud humorlessly and shakes her head interrupting your defence. 

"Why am I not surprised that as soon as Daphne bloody Kluger is in a spec of trouble you come running in like the knight in shining armour. That guy could have seriously hurt you Y/N." she mutters, finishing up her work. You quickly take hold of her wrist stopping her from continuing. You lean back enough to meet her eyes as she tries to avoid your gaze.

"What do you mean by that, Tam? You just expected me to let them hit on her or worse? And by the way, I was defending her and Debbie, not just her." you retort, suddenly feeling angry at her accusation. You stand up abruptly making Tammy mimic your stance, confused at your sudden change in mood.

"Why do you care so much Tam? One minute you act like you don't give a shit about me and then all of a sudden you're like this overbearing jealous lover which I'm sure your husband loves by the way.” You pause for a breath, unable to help the following words. “Speaking of, your deadbeat husband shouldn't you be out on date night or something?" You grumble all too aware of the late-night phone calls you have been receiving from the blonde lately, complaining about his lack of interest in her and the kids, always out later than needing to be with a mysterious brunette. You’d sit and listen to her worries while reassuring her through truthful subtle words while secretly biting your tongue from saying what you really think of the asshole and that she could do so much better. You, more specifically.

“Trust me Tammy he’d be an idiot to cheat on you, you’re the best thing that guy has apart from your two beautiful children.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate you staying up and listening to me moan on,”

“Not the usual moaning I like to hear at 2am but I guess since it’s you,” you teased one late night, while lying in your king-size bed alone wishing to have the woman currently on the phone in bed with you. 

You're brought back from your thoughts by a loud scoff. 

“Oh, please Y/N. Stop being such a child!” She reprimanded making you gape at her in shock, pointing a finger to your chest.

“Me?! I'm a child! You're the one who’s acting like a jealous girlfriend right now. I mean Daphne? Really Tammy?” You dumbfounded. 

“Of course, Daphne! Ever since you joined the team last year she’s been onto you like a dog in heat, I’m surprised you haven’t slept with her yet with the way you two look at each other. And now look at you, all bruised up for some airheaded brunette.” She spats an ugly frown in place. 

“Again, I’ll ask why do you care so much?! And before you call her an airhead, remember she’s your friend too, Tammy. Besides, you’re still over here pretending to play happy families with a guy who couldn’t care less about you. So before you go judging me for my relations, think about your own first.” You retaliate instantly regretting your remark as you watch her worry her top lip while folding her arms across her chest, guarding herself. A deafening silence falls across the living room for a moment before Tammy speaks again, her voice low and trembly. 

“Of course, I care about you, trust me... I care so fucking much about you. If anything bad had happened to you tonight I… I would have never forgiven myself. I’m sorry for going at Daphne like that… that was cruel of me. You mean so much to me Y/N, ever since we were introduced on that heist last year I knew there was something there between us that connected us, you know? You lit something inside of me that made me feel alive again.  I haven’t felt like that since… for a long time.” Tammy rambles, stepping closer to you trying to reach for your hand making you step back needing the space.

“In case you have forgotten Tam, you're married and my single ass can do what the hell it wants but I choose not to go around sleeping with any woman especially my friends, Tam!  Daphne and I are just friends nothing more nothing less.” You reassure, your voice trembling slightly feeling the truth boiling inside of you. 

‘No woman compares to you,’ You secretly confess internally, huffing in frustration. 

“Well, what if I don’t like those roles very much.” She whispers, her eyes filling with unushered tears and a small sad smile.

“What are you saying?” You ask dumbfounded. 

“What I’m saying is, I’m sick of this pussyfooting around, these longing looks between us.  I can’t stay in a loveless marriage anymore. Not when I’m so in love with you,” she cups your cheek. “Me and Hank, we… we’re getting a divorce Y/N, that’s why he isn’t here tonight. He moved out last week. I’m waiting on the papers,” 

“Wait, say that again?” You demand quietly, needing to make sure you heard correctly. Your heart beats rapidly, hoping that you heard her right. 

“Hank and I are getting a divor-”

“No, the other thing.” You rushed, needing to hear her say it again. A soft smile appears on her full lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N. And if you’ll have me, I’d like to make something between us work. I don't care how long it takes, I… I just want you.” She vows.

 Without a second thought, you launch forward just as she does. Lips clashing hard against one another as you cradle the sides of her head softly with both hands, wincing slightly from the aching pain on your bottom lip making her pull away slightly only for you to pull her closer needing to savour the moment. Her arms wrap tightly around your waist resting against your back. The feeling of those soft lips that taste of cherry chapstick makes your heart burst with love and passion for this wonderful human being that you’ve been secretly longing for all this time. 

You both pull away simultaneously leaning your foreheads against one another as you both catch your breath, you laugh breathlessly finding this whole situation surreal. 

“I can’t believe all this time and I-” Tammy hovers her slim finger against your lip carefully to hush you.

“Just promise me one thing?” She asks quietly.

“Anything,”

“Promise you won’t get into another fight like this again? I can’t live...not without you,” She teases towards the end but the seriousness behind those sparkling brown eyes speak differently, making you nod in acknowledgement placing a light kiss to her forehead. 

“As long as I have you by my side Tam, you’ll never have to worry about that.” You promise.

With those secret love confessions said and done you seal that last promise with a kiss.

[space-------kid]

hi there!! I really love your genya fics they make my heart feel so full 😭 i was just wondering if you could write kimetsu academy genya w the reader going supporting his shooting competitions + dragging sanemi along to prove that genya has incredible skill 💗 tysmm

Thank you so much!!! 😭💕💕💕

I’m sorry this took a while (this request is so cute OMG OMG OMG), but I hope you enjoy this! 💕💕💕 

Also, thanks to everyone who submitted a request! I hope I managed to put a smile on your faces with my writing! Thank you so much!  💕💕💕💕 💕 💕💕

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡���

𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭, 𝓼𝓮𝓮 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓏𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓌𝒶 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

               “The shooting competition’s gonna be next week, isn’t it?”

               Genya tears his gaze off the target to look at [Name]. She sits on the audience stands, elbows resting on her knees and her palms cupping her chin. The way she glows with admiration while she watches him during morning practice sends Genya’s heart aflutter, and he’s filled with the need to impress her even more. Shyly, he gives her a confirmatory nod and turns to face the target again.

               “Yeah,” he tells her as he lines up another shot. He pulls the trigger and the crack of the gunshot reverberates in the training area. He hears [Name]’s delighted gasp, clapping her hands while Genya smiles with pride upon seeing that he hits the bull’s eye a third time.

               “I’ll make another banner and little flags for you, then!” [Name] exclaims, hopping off the bench and making her way to him. She picks up his towel and offers to wipe the sweat off Genya’s forehead with another of her lovely, bright smiles. He leans down so she can reach his face.

               “You really shouldn’t bother, you know…” he tells her quietly, face red from the proximity and how gently she dabs at his forehead with the towel. “And besides, nii-chan won’t even come to watch like the usual… Remember what happened last time when the school gave me an award?”

               [Name]’s expression falls at the memory. Genya has been so shaken that day, humiliation and pain fighting for dominance on his face when Shinazugawa-sensei ripped the certificate and told the former that he ought to focus on his studies – especially Maths – instead.

               It hurt her, how Shinazugawa-sensei doesn’t even seem to care about his own brother. She remembers how full of confidence Genya has been during practices and the competition itself, and how he even forgot his shyness when he gave her a hug after being crowned the champion for all three clay shooting categories. He isn’t the type to brag, but [Name] recalls how Genya – lavender eyes shining with pride – wondered how proud Sanemi-san might be of his achievements.

               It all crumbles during that day Kimetsu Academy organized an event to award certain students for their achievements in different competitions.

               Genya’s sympathizers may have increased and showed their support openly since that day, but [Name] knows that only Shinazugawa-sensei’s matters the most to him.

               “Don’t worry, Genya-kun,” she consoles him with a reassuring smile, a plan already hatching in her mind. “I’m sure your nii-chan will come around.”

--

               “Oi, [Surname].”

               “Yes, Shinazugawa-sensei?”

               The white-haired Maths teacher gives [Name] an appraising look as she stands by the doorway of the staff room, hands folded in front of her and her [colour] eyes gleaming with a mixture of worry and curiosity at being summoned. She hopes she hasn’t done anything to earn his ire – not when she’s working hard with her plans to convince the older Shinazugawa brother to come to Genya’s shooting competition next week.

               “You’re the Public Speech Club’s ace, aren’t you?” Shinazugawa-sensei asks her, folding his arms over his chest while he leans against the doorway.

               “Um, y-yes…?” [Name] replies hesitantly, still unused to the sudden attention she’s been showered with lately. She has been one of the students who are awarded alongside Genya by the school upon snagging the gold medal Kimetsu Academy’s Public Speech Club has long coveted in the interschool public speaking competitions. Rengoku-sensei is assigned to oversee the club’s participation in competitions, and she wonders why Shinazugawa-sensei summoned her for it.

               “Rengoku’s on a sick leave and he asked me to take over your practices until he returns,” Shinazugawa-sensei tells her, frowning at her diffident response. “I want you to transcribe and give me a hard copy of your speech in your previous competition.”

               “Yes, sensei!” [Name] replies, inwardly thankful that Genya has taken a video of her performance when he came to watch and support her like she does with him. She will just have to ask him to send her a copy of the video.

               Speaking of Genya—

               “Um, Shinazugawa-sensei?”

               “Yeah?”

               [Name] fidgets, looking down in embarrassment to avoid her teacher’s piercing gaze. Genya has told her that his nii-chan already knows about their mutual feelings for each other, and despite not being an official couple yet, she suddenly feels shy about asking Shinazugawa-sensei to come and watch Genya’s competition in the upcoming week.

               “Spit it out already, [Surname],” the Maths teacher tells her but not – surprisingly – unkindly. [Name] meets his gaze and sees the impassivity on the usually ticked off older Shinazugawa brother.

               “I-I…!” she blurts out, now standing at attention. Her cheeks turn red at the amused look her future older brother teacher is giving her.

               (Out of all his students, Shinazugawa-sensei seems to be tolerant and kind enough towards [Name]. No one knows that the reason for this is that he sees how supportive, kind, and patient she is towards his brother – but of course he won’t tell anyone that.)

               “Sensei, Genya’s shooting competition will be held Thursday next week,” [Name] says, her expression seeming to say it’s now or never. “Do you want to come and watch–“

               Shinazugawa-sensei rolls his eyes at her and turns away dismissively. “You should be worrying about your own upcoming competition, brat. You’re dismissed.”

               “But sensei–!”

               He looks at her, eyes narrowed with an expression she can’t name. “Drop it, [Surname]. And tell that moron to quit already. He barely even passed last time’s quiz.”

               Worry fills [Name]’s entire being. It’s her first time asking, and she’s already been shot down! What will she tell Genya?

               She turns around and leaves, hands clenched at her sides. [Name] can’t believe herself – why does she think that way? The first is not the only opportunity given to her to ask. There’s still a second, a third! If she wants to see Genya happy and for Shinazugawa-sensei to witness how skilled the former is, then why is she being disheartened at being shot down?

               Heart set with fiery determination, she turns to the direction of the staff room and pumped her fists. “Telling me to drop it won’t do, Shinazugawa-sensei! I’ll ask you a hundred – no, a thousand times if I have to! I’ll do anything to prove to you that Genya is outstanding at what he does! Just you wait–“

               “No shouting in the hallways,” comes a cold voice from behind [Name], her face turning pale at the sight of the Chemistry teacher glaring at her.

               “I’m sorry, Iguro-sensei!” she yells and bows at him, sprinting off out of sight.

--

               The week-long saga of convincing Sanemi to attend Genya’s shooting competition ends with a shouting match between [Name] and the teacher during one of her practices for the public speaking competition. The topic given to her is familial bonds, and [Name] seamlessly and shamelessly slides in Genya – though anonymously – every three sentences, sometimes subtly or even openly telling her teacher to show his younger brother support by watching the competition.

               Monday comes, and the practice devolves yet again into another heated argument between teacher and student.

               “I told you to drop it already, didn’t I?” Sanemi bellows at her, finally losing the patience he reserves for her.

               “I don’t want to!” [Name] yells back, face flushed with frustration. She is alone in one of the classrooms with the teacher – she wouldn’t be yelling at him like what she is doing now if they weren’t. “And why are you being so difficult about it, sensei? Would it kill you to watch even just one event? Why are you being so stubborn?”

               “You’re the one to talk! I don’t give a shit about Genya’s fucking obsession with guns and joining shooting competitions!” the older Shinazugawa brother rages on. “Not when he’s close to failing my subject because he’s stupid!”

               “Don’t say that you don’t give a shit, sensei! And don’t call him stupid – not when he’s trying so hard to be good at something he isn’t!”

               Sanemi stops from spewing another heated comment when [Name] begins rubbing an arm over her eyes to stop the aggravated tears from flowing down her cheeks. His arms drop uselessly to his sides, suddenly feeling so clueless at the sight of the crying girl in front of him. Genya has good friends, that much he knows (he still hasn’t forgiven that Kamado boy from frowning disapprovingly at him when he rudely commented on Genya’s quiz results). He knows as well that something is up between his younger brother and [Name], but to actually see her crying in Genya’s defence lifts the heavy fog of neglect in the teacher’s heart.

               “You’re always telling Genya-kun to quit, and you look like you don’t even care when he looks hurt by your words! Why do you keep doing that to him? B-Because… Because he’s bad at the subject you’re teaching? Because he’s not as good as Maths as you? Sensei–“

               Sanemi knows what his constant discouragement is doing to Genya. As much as his heart clenches at the look of hurt on his little brother’s face, the older between the two has to do it for Genya’s sake. He’s doing it because he truly believes that the reason why Genya keeps on nearly flunking the subject is because the latter focuses his attention too much to his club activities. Sanemi is harsh because he genuinely wants for Genya to focus on his studies so he graduates with good grades. With good grades, Sanemi knows that the big universities in the city would send invites for his brother to enroll – and soon enough Genya’s future would be as bright as Sanemi has always dreamed of it to be. But to hear from [Name] herself that his little brother is trying hard to be good at Maths despite not being gifted like Sanemi…

               He knows that [Name] is always at the shooting range with Genya during the latter’s morning practices. He even sees the two hanging out with Genya’s friends in the library, the group patiently helping each other with subjects they find difficult.

               Sanemi smiles and softly places a hand on top of [Name]’s head, prompting her to stop crying.

               “You’re a good kid, you know that, [Name]?” he quietly tells her, gently stroking her [colour] hair. “Now I know why Genya’s so smitten with you.”

               The red on her face deepens, and [Name] hides it with her hands with an embarrassed squeal.

               “Sensei!”

--

               The day of the shooting competition finally comes, and Genya’s heart sinks when he doesn’t see [Name] among the audience.

    ��          He knows that she also has an upcoming competition, and he’s even surprised to learn from her that his nii-chan becomes her temporary coach in the absence of Rengoku-sensei. Anxiety slowly creeps in his chest, dread weighing him down where he stands.

               What if… what if nii-chan has stopped her from coming to watch and made her practice today instead?

               A purple banner saying “KIMETSU ACADEMY’S UNBEATABLE ACE! GO GENYA!” pops out from the stands and Genya’s doubt leaves him as soon as they came when he spots his friends (aptly named the Kamaboko Squad because of Inosuke’s penchant of getting people’s names wrong) waving at him in support. Aside from the banner, they wield flaglets depicting his shotgun and his name. Smiling, he lifts a hand to wave at them but freezes when Inosuke puts the banner down to reveal–

               “N-No way…” Genya mutters in utter disbelief, eyes widening and filling with tears.

               Sitting side by side are [Name] and Sanemi, the former holding onto the latter’s arm and excitedly pointing to where Genya is. A huge smile splits [Name]’s face as she waves cheerfully at him. Sanemi, on the other hand, looks like he’s trying not to look too annoyed or bored with the proceedings. He faintly hears her shouts amidst the crowd’s din, his heart leaping up in his throat at her words.

               “GENYA-KUUUN! LOOK WHO I MANAGED TO DRAG HEEEEEERE! YOU BETTER SHOW SENSEI YOUR TOP-NOTCH SHOOTING SKIIIIIIILLS!”

               Genya is reduced to an embarrassed, blushing mess as he follows the other competitors in the first shooting location for the first event, all the while thinking of ways on how to express his gratitude to [Name] for managing to do the unthinkable.

--

               Skeet shooting, the last of the three clay shooting categories, comes to an end with Genya remaining at the top of the leaderboard.

               To say that Sanemi is astounded by his little brother’s shooting skills is an understatement.

               Judging from the categories of the shooting competition, Sanemi is quick to deduce that a competitor is required to have quick reflexes and flash judgement, not to mention a sharp eye, accuracy, and precision. The way his little brother handled all three categories with ease proves that Genya possesses such skills, and maybe even more.

               Despite his distance from the audience stands, Sanemi can perfectly see Genya’s posture and the way he holds himself. When holding a shotgun, Genya seems to transform into an entirely different person. He is so steady, not even a hint of trembling nor exhaustion evident regardless of how long he has been holding the shotgun up and constantly aiming at a clay target flying at approximately 30 seconds per meter. While there have been contestants who merely grazed their targets, the ones Genya shoots always end up shattering mid-air.

               His little brother doesn’t half-ass these competitions, doesn’t he?

               In his mind’s eye, Sanemi can clearly see Genya raking gold medals and trophies for Japan in international competitions.

               He trails behind Genya’s friends when they swarm his little brother right after the awarding ceremony. As expected, the younger Shinazugawa brother is sporting gold medals for each event. Sanemi blinks and looks down at [Name] when she tugs at his sleeve, her face glowing with pride as she gazes up at him.

               “Well, sensei?” she asks him, and Sanemi fights the urge to roll his eyes at the smugness in her voice. He settles for poking her cheek and shooting her a proud grin.

               “N-Nii-chan…?”

               The two look at Genya with varying degrees of pride on their faces. Sanemi places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, now openly showing the latter his brotherly love and support.

               “Well done, Genya,” he simply tells the younger Shinazugawa before resuming his task of poking [Name]’s cheek. “And tell this idiot that she can call me nii-chan outside of school from now on.”

               The (still not official!) couple’s faces explode into a brilliant shade of red at the blatant implication of Sanemi’s words.

               “NII-CHAN!”

               “SENSEI!”

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