#2 he has his walk of shame where the students and Sky see him all gruff and in cuffs

[mclmora]

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ pt 2

summary: y/n has mixed feelings after what happened with kei. thankfully, though, exams are over.

tw: none.

days passed since your discussion with tsukki took place at your house. unfortunately, that weight in your stomach hasn’t gone away, making you wake up every morning feeling as if something wasn’t right. something was out of place. something was missing.

deep down, you knew what that “something” was. or rather, who it was. nothing more than him; that amber eyed, tall, guy you used to call friend. he was the main cause of your worry, that itch in the back of your mind you couldn’t scratch.

reality was, you still hadn’t processed that conversation. you kept replaying it in your head, over and over, as if that would’ve changed something. you couldn’t believe you ended your friendship with him like that.

was your friendship over? was it really over?

you begun avoiding him for weeks, that’s true, yet you couldn’t help but ask yourself if that was what you genuinely wanted. part of you was sure of your words, you meant everything you said in that unforgettable instant. then why... why did it feel so wrong? why was there a part of you that missed him like air?

shame swallowed you whole as you closed the door behind you, heading towards the gate to leave for school. you felt confused, hurt.

gripping tightly on your bag strap with both hands, a heavy sigh left your cold lips. the other part of you wished tremendously he would come back to you, crying for your forgiveness and finding all possible ways to get your affection back.

but it was during those reveries that the harsh reality would hit you like a slap in the face. he wasn’t your boyfriend. what you wanted, were actions only people in love would do. which he obviously wasn’t. and after that conversation, you felt as if you had no right to fantasy about him in that romantic way. he was never yours and he will never be.

although you found yourself being loyal to him multiple times, as if he was.

it was like now that you’ve lost him, you wanted him back, ignoring his terrible past, and current, actions. you judged yourself harshly for that, feeling like a pathetic hypocrite who wasn’t able to let go of people who weren’t good for herself and never had been.

as you lost yourself further into your self reflections, you arrived at school. you had to stop a second to take a long breath in, bracing yourself for another school day that had two important exams awaiting you on the early classes.

as usual, you begun playing with the cuticles of your right hand, sometimes biting them off, others peeling them off.

either way, it was 8:21 AM and you had to enter now. you tried focusing on what your eyes saw on the way to the classroom, to forget everything that was bothering you for a few minutes. some students smoking in the benches of the yard, a couple soda cans on the ground, two flying birds above your head...

“ow-” with your face up in the sky, you didn’t pay attention to where you were walking, and bumped your forehead against something hard. when you removed your hand from your head to take a look at whatever you smacked your face on, you fixed eyes on a familiar face.

you just bumped against him, your so beloved tsukishima kei, who had a huge bag full of volley balls in his arms, that made him struggle to see wherever he put his feet on.

for a long minute, you froze on the spot, unable to move or speak. it was him indeed who broke the ice, spitting a simple, yet venomous, phrase.

“watch it, pipsqueak.”

the irony. he purposely bumped against your shoulder when passing by, making you lower your gaze to your own shoes to avoid meeting his eyes. you caressed your forearm, unmoving for a couple more seconds, until then hearing someone call your name from afar inside the building. you made a significantly amount of effort to smile at your classmate, who was inviting you to go inside and grab a quick coffee before heading to the first class of the day.

accepting her invitation, you took that as an opportunity to shake off that previous sour encounter that would surely take space in your mind as the hours will go on. you feared free time for that specific reason.

it was during those moments that your mind would travel back to unwanted memories and unpleasant thoughts. you began hating it.

grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria, you and your classmate headed at your mathematics class, chatting about frivolous things on the way. as you thought, that helped ease your nerves a bit, and when you took your seat and layed your stuff on the desk, you were feeling much better than before.

class begun, you took the last sip of your coffee and shifted your attention to the teacher who just walked in, that quickly explained the procedure of the exam, blessing you guys of 15 more minutes to review your notes before beginning the actual thing.

you thanked her wordlessly, reading again and again the parts you had more doubts on, until time was over and you started the exam.

the next classes went smoothly, just like the first one. you handed your papers, confident of your works, and spent the remaining hours with a lighter heart. concentrating on your exams and lessons helped you a lot, fortunately you didn’t cross tsukishima in the hallways, or outside during lunch time.

when the day was over, you grabbed your notebooks from your locker and headed out of the building, with your phone pressed against your ear, yachi talking on the other end.

“so, are you coming or not?!” she squeaked, eager.

you, on the other hand, were reluctant. yachi and kiyoko invited you to a special night out with the volleyball team, to celebrate the last match of the year. christmas was around the corner, just like the new year, so the girls wanted to take the boys out in a pretty restaurant that recently opened near the square.

the problem was, that would’ve meant seeing tsukishima, since he was a member of said team.

were you really ready for that? no. of course not. however, you couldn’t explain what happened to yachi, nor kiyoko, as much as you loved them. it wasn’t something you could tell anyone, especially if close to tsukki.

you met them at the beginning of the year, when you decided to give them a hand with the organization of the matches and schedule. being friends with kei got you to get in touch with all the members of the team, managers included, and here you were. stuck in a really, really uncomfortable situation.

“listen... i’m not so sure i can make it, you se-” you tried to replicate, but yachi cut you off before you could finish your cheap excuse. “i won’t stop pestering you until you accept. i mean it!”

a profound, heartfelt, sigh flied out of your lips. “okay.”

on the other end, you hear her scream in happiness, “ahh, yess! can’t wait! i’ll send you a text with the directions to get to the restaurant and the time, remember to tell me what you’ll be wearing, we could match! love youu.”

she closed the phone call, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

another sigh. what the fuck did you just get yourself into?

with this thought, you got home, realizing that today you gave your last exams and it was friday. with all the things going on, you didn’t even stop a second to think about it.

suddenly, your head felt ten times lighter.

you went straight to the bathroom and took the longest, most beautiful, bath you’ve took in a long time. you left your muscles relax under the hot water for at least an hour, giving yourself a well deserved beauty moment all for yourself afterwards. during your hair mask, you decided to order a sushi takeaway and relax in front of a movie until falling asleep.

that night you slept for over 11 hours, recovering all the sleep you lost throughout the past 3 weeks probably.

in the morning, you woke up with a text from yachi, who kept her word and sent you the location and time of the event, which was scheduled to be around next week. you couldn’t hold back a small grimace, such reminder at an early hour wasn’t exactly your ideal way to begin the day, considering how much you weren’t feeling it.

however, it wasn’t fair to deprive yourself of a nice dinner in company of your friends just because of one individual. you guys were going to be a lot anyway, you could simply sit next to yachi and kiyoko, or someone else for what it mattered. conversing with kei wasn’t an obligation.

... right?

truth was, you felt helpless. anxiety ate you up and spit you out so easily. you were so scared of fucking it up somehow, or just ending up arguing with him in front of anyone, even though being rationally aware that it was never gonna happen.

but what if it happens the second you’re not worrying about it happening?

worries began to accumulate in the corners of your mind, that you tried to push away, when an idea crossed your mind. quickly, you grabbed your cellphone and wrote yachi a text back.

y/n: hey, i don’t really have anything to wear for saturday. wanna go shopping together this evening? we could ask kiyoko if she wants to come as well! let me know. xo

it didn’t take long for her to reply, after not more than half an hour she texted you back,

yachi: omg yes! i was actually counting on asking you the same. i’m gonna text kiyoko to see what she thinks.

eventually, kiyoko replied that she was down for a shopping session as well, and you girls organized to meet at the mall at 3:30 PM and spend the evening together until late, dining there.

you spent your morning doing chores and exchanging texts with the girls, talking about school and the event that was gonna take place in the new restaurant. yachi shared tens of pictures of dresses and outfits, to which kiyoko kept replying that you weren’t going to attend a met gala, rather a simple dinner with volleyball players, not rich actors.

you laughed at some of the texts, until 1 PM clocked in and you started to get ready.

it didn’t take too much. after an hour and a half, you were standing in front of the mirror, debating if the outfit you picked was of your liking enough to be wore. you looked at yourself to the side, then to the back... then to the front, until you took a look at the clock and saw 3:02 PM. the mall was exactly 30 minutes away from your home, you had to go now.

as fast as you could, you picked your bag and stuck what you needed in there, checking your hair one last time before leaving, closing the door behind you and walking off.

✧ previous ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀next ✧

[cherries11]

These are all Saul's scenes from the S2 trailer, obvious ones and assumed. I mean, he doesn't appear in the trail of vehicles, but I assume he's in one of them 😁

[starlessea]

𝐅𝐨𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 - Part 1

A/N This is part 1/2 of a collab with the amazing @whitexwingedxdoves​​! The first part is in Daryl’s POV, and the second will be in the reader’s. Part 2 is here.

Summary: Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you.

You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

Words: 3974

Daryl never really expected Judith to take an interest in hunting; she was far too sweet.

But then again, so were you - and Daryl had never met anyone who could make a better twitch-up snare. Though, he preferred using bow traps, himself, when he had the arrows to spare for them.

Takes more skill, he’d argue, and watch you shake your head vehemently at him - as though you couldn’t disagree more.

You hadn’t changed since then; you were just as stubborn, if not worse. But Daryl definitely had, even if he didn’t want to admit it. You had changed him. He wasn’t the same man who’d first stumbled through the gates of Alexandria all those years back, scowling at your traps which got in his way and stole his game; nor was he the same person who insisted on butting heads with you until he got a migraine.

Daryl Dixon had grown since then.

And that was probably the reason why he was stuck crawling through the forest on all fours, teaching Judith Grimes how to set a twitch-up snare (and not a bow trap).

“Now what?” she asked him, adjusting that sheriff’s hat which was still a little too big for her.

Daryl could remember the first time he’d placed it on her head, and tipped it up to get a glimpse of her gummy smile. She’d been so small back then; she still was.

He held out his rope in front of him, weaving it slowly so that she could follow the steps. It felt natural to Daryl’s hands, like he’d done it a thousand times over. He probably had, but he could remember a time where he’d been the student - and you were his teacher.

“Make the ears an’ weave the end through ‘em,” he instructed.

Just like a rabbit, you’d told him, and laughed.

He felt his lips twitch a little, but Daryl bit back his smile. Instead, he watched as Judith made a mistake - and he let her. That was the best way to learn, after all.

The young girl pulled a face at the tangled rope in her fists, wondering where she’d gone wrong. Then, she looked up at her uncle Daryl for the answers.

“It doesn’t look right,” she noted, showing it to him.

It didn’t. It definitely looked more like a dog with stubby ears than a rabbit.

Daryl shook his head gently, confirming her suspicions. “Give it here,” he mumbled, and carefully took the half-formed knot into his lap.

Judith shuffled over to get a closer look, and Daryl took his time in showing her how to correct it. He remembered when his father and brother would try and ‘teach’ him something new - which usually involved berating him until he was too anxious to ever mess it up again.

He hoped he was a better teacher than that.

“Ya folded it wrong,” he explained, pointing to that part of the fraying rope. He unwove it, and tucked it back into the right place. “See, ya fold the loop over itself to make the ears.”

Judith watched intently, holding her breath as she tried to memorise the steps. Then, Daryl undid the rope, and she let out a yell in protest. But Daryl just shrugged, and smiled a little to himself. She’d need to figure it out on her own if she was going to learn - as much as he wished he’d always be there to help her.

Daryl handed the rope back, and watched as she fumbled with it again; but this time, she didn’t make the same mistake.

“Who taught you how to do this?” she asked, eyes still trained in her lap as she spoke.

Daryl was silent for a few seconds, as if debating whether to tell her. He could already picture the triumphant look on your face.

He sighed. “This knot? Your aunt did.”

His words came out muffled, but Judith was still able to decipher them. In response, she smiled a smile that looked much too familiar - reminding him of another Grimes kid when he was up to no good.

“I thought you knew how to hunt before that,” she chirped, purposefully not meeting Daryl’s eyes as he narrowed them at her.

Damn girl’s gettin’ cheeky, he thought.

And this time, he didn’t pull her up on her mistake. Maybe she deserved to do the knot over once more.

“Mhm. I did,” Daryl answered naturally, as though her teasing tone didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Jus’ hunted in a different way is all.”

Judith looked up at him, and cocked her head to the side.

Yeah, he thought, she’s growin’ up jus’ like Carl.

“Which way’s better?” she asked curiously, as though forgetting the messy knot in her lap.

Daryl sat back on his hands, feeling his palms meet the damp leaves of the thick, forest overgrowth. That question had been the one that started it all. The sky was beginning to darken, and he knew that he should be getting back home soon. You always did give him one hell of an ear-full whenever he was late.

He smiled at the girl, before nodding in the direction of the abandoned knot - prompting her to try again.

“Depends on who ya ask.”

Daryl let loose his arrow and listened to it whirr through the air, and strike that possum straight down from its tree. Carol grimaced as he collected it, picking the animal up by its tail and slinging it over his shoulder as they walked. He would have made some remark back at her - but he just didn’t have the energy.

None of them did, really.

That’s why he’d shot the possum. He still wasn’t convinced by the promised land that Aaron had tried to sell to them - a place called Alexandria - so at least they’d have something to eat if it fell through.

It usually always did.

Every time Daryl felt like he had a solid footing on the ground beneath him, it somehow always managed to find a way to cave. First there was the farm, then the prison, and finally Terminas. These days, he just couldn’t catch a break.

But he could catch possum, he thought, and trudged on along the road.

The gates to Alexandria reminded him of the prison - those wire lattice fences and the metal bars that stretched up to the sky. It was like a damn cage, but Daryl had somehow gotten used to living in those.

What he could never get used to was the sight of those faces, looking down on him as though he was something they’d stepped in whilst navigating the side-walk. He was familiar with those looks by now - he’d gotten plenty of them back in Georgia even before the world had ended - but they never failed to make him feel a certain shame he didn’t like to admit to.

This time, though, he may have deserved them.

It took him a while to realise that their eyes weren’t actually on him, but rather lingering on that dead possum - still hanging by its tail. Then a woman stepped forward, with an air about her that made Daryl think that she was the leader. Although, it definitely wasn’t the same air he felt when he was around Rick.

“We’ll need to interview you, so that we can assign you all jobs,” she said warmly.

And Daryl laughed a bitter laugh he didn’t realise he’d been holding back - but once he let it out, he felt much better. From the moment he’d stepped foot into Alexandria, Daryl Dixon already had a job.

It was to try and keep the rest of these idiots alive.

Deanna’s office was stuffy; with too many dusty books and not enough fresh air, it nearly made Daryl forget how to breathe. He’d almost knocked that camera straight from its tripod, too - until Rick shot him a warning look against it.

“He’s a hunter and a damn good one,” the man quickly interjected, his hands falling into place on his hips.

Daryl lifted his chin with pride at the sheriff’s words. Hunting was the one thing he could confidently offer to the group; it was second nature to him. He could also tell that Deanna held Rick in high regard, so to hear him praise Daryl like that only proved his worth.

But she remained skeptical. “I can see that, but we already have one of those.”

The woman was assertive, that’s for sure.

She crossed her arms at her chest and examined the limp possum that swung proudly from Daryl’s shoulder. Though, she didn’t seem to share that same enthusiasm for his skill. Daryl shuffled on his feet, and repositioned the possum on his shoulder as if trying to shake off her judgemental looks.

“Just the one?” Carol piped up, from the doorway.

She had a good point; only one hunter for the whole of Alexandria?

It didn’t seem to add up quite right in Daryl’s head - and from the look on his face, it didn’t convince Rick, either.

“We’ve never needed more than that.” Deanna replied curtly, her lips pursing into a tight line. Daryl couldn’t help but scowl at the pride in her voice.

Bullshit, he thought.

“Well if you ask me, you’d be making a mistake not giving him that title,” Rick cautioned, but again his words seemed to be lost on the woman standing before them.

Deanna shook her head. “No, that’s not all he has to offer,” she said quietly.

Daryl felt a chill wrack up his spine as she stared right through him - as if trying to figure him out.

“I’ll find a job for you, but in the meantime feel free to join our hunter,” she continued, decisively.

Daryl tried his best not to scowl. Perhaps he would do just that, and show Alexandria what they were missing without having him hunt for them.

Maybe he’d even bring back a feast.

The interviews took up a hefty while, but Daryl promised Rick he would accompany him on a perimeter check whilst it was still light out - before the rest of the group settled down for the night. Even with those tall fences, he wanted to make sure there were no cracks - inside or out - for walkers to slip through.

The interior of Alexandria seemed secure, but beyond those sturdy gates was a world they hadn’t accounted for. Daryl toed each steel beam with his boot, as Rick started to dispatch the undead stragglers that lingered a little too close.

A regular culling, he called it.

They’d tried to implement that at the prison, too, but their defences had been only a tenth as sturdy as Alexandria’s. So, Daryl helped the officer, aiming his crossbow at the walkers nearby - even the ones that were caught on car doors, trapped.

He even went out of his way to follow the footsteps he came across, left so blatantly that they disturbed the mud and leaves - allowing him to track them clear as day. Rick accompanied him, knife in hand and pistol still holstered on his belt.

Then, a twig snapped.

“Son of a-” the officer cursed, and Daryl whipped his head back.

There was rope caught around his boot, and it only tightened the more he tried to twitch his foot free.

“The hell is that?” Rick cursed, looking over at him for an answer.

Tha’s a damn snare, Daryl realised, and pulled out his pocket knife to cut the other man loose.

He narrowed his eyes; it was constructed well. The knots were tight and the trigger reacted as it should have. But it still wasn’t as efficient as the types of traps Daryl used.

“Damn twitch-up, nothin’ but trouble,” he replied, crouching down to free Rick’s boot, “don’t catch nothin’.”

But a voice retorted just as quick.

“Caught your friend just fine!”

Daryl flinched, and dropped the knife in favour of the crossbow slung over his back. He hadn’t even heard her. He trained his weapon on the woman, but soon lowered it at the sight of her - unarmed.

“Would appreciate if you removed your dumb foot from my trap,” she yelled, pointing to Rick’s combat boot - still floundering in the rope like a fish on a line.

Daryl sighed. So this was Alexandria’s hunter.

She carried a big leather satchel, and had a string of woven rope circled over her shoulder. Daryl also noticed the charm hanging from her bag - a tattered rabbit’s foot. It was appropriate, that’s for sure. But he wondered how she’d even been able to catch one with such temperamental traps.

Daryl bent down near the twitch-up again. He knew how to disable it, but Rick had already damaged some parts with his heavy steps as he struggled to get it loose. So, he just glanced back at the woman over his shoulder, and made a show of cutting through the rope with his pocket blade.

“Ain’t worth the hassle,” he muttered, once he was done.

He could tell from her face that she wasn’t impressed. She stalked over to him and shot them both a look so fierce that Daryl thought her eyes might roll back into her head.

“And who the hell are you?” she asked - but it was more of a demand.

Daryl had heard enough of that tone today. He was already sick of the false authority Alexandria had exuded over them. So, he ignored her question.

He pointed at the ruined trap, instead. “If officer clumsy over ‘ere broke yer trap in two seconds, then walkers could spring it in one,” Daryl remarked.

The woman scoffed, crouching down to retrieve the rope.

“Maybe that’s the point,” she snapped back, “keeps them away from the fences.”

You’re lying, Daryl thought. It seemed like everyone around here had too much damn pride.

“Nah it aint,” he argued, shaking his head. “Tha’s what them car doors were for.”

He’d noticed it earlier - the way the vehicles were all parked along the perimeter of Alexandria, doors wide open and windows down to bait the walkers and snag them there. They weren’t perfect, though, since a few had still slipped through.

The woman went silent, and Daryl felt a small smile tug at his lips as he watched for her reaction.

“Yer tryna catch rabbits with these,” he concluded.

He’d expected her to admit defeat - maybe even ask for his help since it was clear he knew what he was talking about.

But, she didn’t.

The hunter shook her head straight back at him, and flipped open that worn leather satchel - pulling out a rabbit by its foot.

“Not just trying,” she corrected, with a smirk much more full than the one Daryl had dared to wear.

Rick let out a sound under his breath, but he still heard it. Daryl scowled in return. There were still plenty of traps better than that old-fashion twitch-up.

“Ya coulda caught more with-” he started, but she cut him off.

“Just who’d you think you are, again?”

This took Daryl aback, and he was stunned into silence. Already, he couldn’t stand the arrogance of these people. His jaw clenched, and Rick seemed to pick up on the unsettling quietness. So, the man cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“This is Daryl,” he announced, clapping his hand down onto his shoulder. “Best hunter I know.”

The woman wordlessly stuffed the rabbit back into her bag, leaving its ears to flop out over the side. Then, she looked between him and the officer, with an expression that got completely under Daryl’s skin.

“Well then I guess you only know one,” she laughed.

Daryl couldn’t quite remember how the rest of the story went. Over time, the details became as hazed in his mind as the sight of freshly fallen snow - obscuring any tracks he might try to follow. The only thing he could briefly recall was the different animals they had hunted during their time at Alexandria.

Yes, he could remember it now.

After that first rabbit, there had been a fox - caught right in the dead of winter.

“Should have guessed you were a bowman!”

Daryl sighed and stopped in his tracks. For someone so bothersome, that woman was remarkably quiet.

He picked up the red fox, which looked more of a gingerish colour against the snow, and twisted his arrow until it became dislodged from its side. A few blood spatters trickled out onto the ground, landing in perfect circles - like red wax seals against white paper.

“Gets the job done quick and easy,” Daryl grumbled, slinging the fox over his shoulder by its bushy tail.

The woman watched him, leant up against a tree with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh now you’re starting to sound like my dad!” she laughed, and padded along after Daryl as he turned to leave.

Recently, the two hunters would sometimes run into each other like this - and Daryl had started to expect the company.

“Ya ol’ man teach you those god awful traps?” he rasped, his voice coming out as puffs of smoke in the cool air.

The woman jabbed him in his side, and Daryl scowled.

“No, actually that was my uncle,” she corrected, looking down at her feet as they made imprints in the snow.

Daryl glanced over at the woman, and narrowed his eyes. He just couldn’t figure her out yet.

“Ya whole damn family hunters?” he questioned, and she laughed again.

For someone so stuck up, her laugh was shy. - as though she were scared of it.

She nodded. “Some girls got Barbies for Christmas. I got a boning knife.”

And some kids got nothin’, Daryl thought.

They walked together back to Alexandria, mostly in silence - save from the crunching of their boots as they stepped heavily through the snow. Daryl kept catching that rabbit foot charm in his peripheral, swinging from the woman’s satchel as she stepped. He also noticed just how red her nose had gotten, and how it occasionally twitched from the cold.

“What ya doin’ out ‘ere?” Daryl eventually asked. “Too cold for rabbits,” he remarked.

They reached the gates, and the woman stopped as she waited for the guard to open them.

“Was tracking a fox,” she replied, eyes settling on the reddish fur bunched up between Daryl’s fingers. “But it looks like you beat me to it.”

After that, once the snow thawed and spring had come around, the next hunt had been for a deer - and Daryl was called upon to help her carry it back.

Thought they only needed one hunter, Daryl cursed, as he readjusted the deer’s hooves in his grip.

He could have easily carried the animal himself, but she was stubborn and insisted she share the weight. He watched as she struggled to hold the back end of the deer, propping it up every so often to relieve the strain on her arms - that damn rabbit’s foot flailing about from her satchel.

“Why the rabbit’s foot?” Daryl finally spoke, breaking the silence between her exaggerated grunts.

“It’s lucky” she managed to huff, before admitting defeat and letting her end drop to the floor.

Daryl took that as his cue to pick the deer up himself, and sling it around the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk at her disappointed stance - but he knew better than to say anything.

“Didn’t you keep the brush?”

Daryl cocked his brow at her question, taking slow steps back towards Alexandria.

“You know the fox’s tail?” she finally cleared up, matching his speed.

“Why? They lucky too?” he quipped back.

He didn’t intend for it to sound so sarcastic.

“I don’t think so,” she sighed, “but they’re pretty!” A small giggle passed her lips, which only made Daryl roll his eyes

This was Alexandria’s big scary hunter.

“Could swap it out for that damn rag you take everywhere,” she teased, nodding her head towards his back pocket.

Daryl watched the way her lips pressed together in a thin line, as if holding back the urge to let out yet another laugh. He scoffed.

Rags were practical; rabbit’s feet and fox’s tails were not.

During the rest of the trip back home, she would go on to tell him the story of how she’d caught that particular rabbit’s foot; it was a story he had since misplaced - but he still remembered the way her eyes lit up as she told it.

Looking back, that deer had been the last thing they’d caught - in Alexandria, at least. Though, Daryl could remember what they had been hunting for when it happened.

Damn rabbits.

The grass was thick and overgrown. Neither of them had explored the area yet - a little ways out from Alexandria. She’d told Daryl about it the night before, claiming to have stumbled upon it in the daytime. The woman swore that she could barely take a step without tripping over one of the dozens of burrows she’d found there.

Daryl wasn’t quite convinced, but he followed her nonetheless.

“You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed, looking over at Daryl much too expressively. “Fox meat? Over rabbit?”

It’s too early for this, Daryl thought, catching sight of her lopsided grin.

“Tastes better,” he mumbled back, navigating through the long foxtail grass and thickets that were up to his waist.

The woman looked over her shoulder and shook her head at him. Daryl reminded her to keep on walking, or let him lead if all she was going to do was trip him up.

She ignored him. “No! Foxes taste like pennies,” she argued, waving her hands around like she had a point to prove. “You know, that weird metallic-”

The woman stopped, and cocked her head at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she remarked, and Daryl felt as though he couldn’t even keep up with the conversation.

“I ain’t even lookin’ at ya,” he bit back - frustrated.

Daryl could barely recall how the hunter had gone from being so reserved back when they had first met, to whatever the hell was standing before him now.

Bark worse than ‘er bite, tha’s for damn sure.

She ran on ahead, and Daryl followed her tracks in the long grass until they reached that deserted area - so quiet that it almost unsettled him. There wasn’t even a breeze; it was as though the world was completely still.

Unnaturally so.

“See!” the hunter exclaimed, triumphantly. “I told you, it’s completely untouched.”

She had that same, smug look on her face as she did when he first met her - entirely proud of herself. But for once, it didn’t bother Daryl in the slightest.

He shook his head, but it was more out of habit than anything else. “Won’t be for long,” he chided, “best keep quiet or yer gonna scare ‘way the game.”

The woman laughed at him, less timidly than how she used to.

“I know how-” she started, but Daryl never did find out what she was going to say.

A loud metallic sound rang through the open air, and the hunter disappeared from his sight, as though sucked into the ground beneath her. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from laughing so carefree to becoming lost in the tall grass - leaving Daryl behind to only listen to her scream.

Daryl knew that sound; he couldn’t mistake the clang of those metal jaws as they clamped shut.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Bear trap, he realised, and ran through the foxtails to find her.

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N I really hope you enjoyed reading this. It is one of my favourites so far. And it has truly been a joy working with @whitexwingedxdoves​. Make sure you stay tuned for part 2!

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[fridayfirefly]

Sunrise on Gotham

Read Sunrise on Gotham on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 29 - Wait!

Gotham wasn’t Marinette’s first choice for the location of their class trip. In fact, the grim American city hadn’t even made her top ten list. Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam, a city rich with history and culture. But when Mm. Bustier announced that a vote for the class trip location would be held, the class voted almost unanimously. After all, Lila’s long-distance boyfriend, Damian Wayne, lived in Gotham. Wouldn’t it be great for Lila to be reunited with him? And Lila traveled so frequently that she had already visited all of the other cities Mm. Bustier suggested. Would it be fair to make her go visit a city she had already been to? Marinette scoffed as she overheard the class discussion. She knew that this was just another one of Lila’s lies, perfectly designed to manipulate the people around her into doing what she wanted.

Marinette kept her mouth shut while her classmates all decided to vote for Gotham. But that didn’t stop her from putting her checkmark next to Amsterdam on the ballots Mm. Bustier passed out. Maybe that would have been the end of Marinette’s bitterness if Lila hadn’t “accidentally” glanced at the ballots on Mm. Bustier’s desk she was leaving the classroom. Marinette could still remember Lila’s sickeningly sweet voice, feigning concern for Marinette, asking why Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam so badly.

As Marinette scrambled for an answer, Alya turned to her with cruelty in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sabotage Lila and Damian’s reunion. You’re so selfish, Marinette.”

Marinette didn’t bother replying - it never helped. As she left the classroom that day, she could see the disappointment in Adrien’s eyes. Her crush on the blonde model had long since faded, and alongside it went the rose-colored glasses she used to see him through, back when they were both thirteen. Now, four years later, all she saw was a selfish boy who cared more about avoiding conflict than actually solving problems.

Four months later, the plane landed in Gotham just as the sun began to rise. As her class walked from the airport to the hotel, Marinette felt herself zone out. Even though it wasn’t her first choice, Marinette could still appreciate the sight that was the Gotham skyline. Looming silver skyscrapers were framed by the gray, cloudy sky. As Marinette took in her surroundings, she began to wish that she could stop and get her sketchbook out. Ideas for a Gotham-themed fashion line popped up in her mind like weeds, and she needed to stop and pick them before she could properly zone back in. Gray was a color she had never properly worked with, which would make incorporating the color a nice way to challenge herself. In her mind, shades of gray instinctively started organizing themselves into the different ways she could pair them together.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed Marinette’s arm, pulling her back. Marinette gasped as she realized that she was about to walk onto the street, straight into traffic. She whipped around to face her savior.

The first thing Marinette noticed was his height. She was used to feeling short, at 5′2″, most people were taller than her. But he seemed to dwarf her. She figured he was 6′0″ at least. The second thing she noticed was the look of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Marinette nodded jerkily, trying to control her breathing. Having a panic attack alone in the middle of downtown Gotham would be just about the worst thing for her to do. She was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet she was so unaware of her surroundings in a completely foreign city that she almost got killed in traffic. “I’m okay, I was just daydreaming,” she babbled, “Usually I’d be more aware of my surroundings, but I just got off of the plane and I’m not used to jetlag.”

The stranger had a bemused smile on his face as he walked her talk. Marinette blushed as she realized how dumb she must look to the handsome stranger. “Your accent, is it French?”

Marinette nodded. “I just got here from Paris. I’m on a class trip.”

“Where’s the rest of your class?”

Marinette looked around, trying to figure out which way her class went, but they were already gone, out of sight. “I’m not sure...” She trailed off. “But I have the address for the hotel on my phone, so I’ll be able to catch up with them there.”

“Gotham is known for being difficult to navigate. I can take you there if you’d like.”

“Sure,” said Marinette, pulling her phone out to check the address. “It’s called the Gotham Grand Hotel. It's on the corner of 7th Avenue and 22nd Street.”

“That’s about twelve blocks away. It’s pretty far. Are you sure you’re up for the walk?”

Marinette nodded. “I’m sure I can make it."

His smile returned as he introduced himself. “I’m Damian, by the way.”

“I’m Marinette,” Marinette introduced herself as Damian led the way.

A moment later, Damian's phone started to ring. He answered it while still walking. "Hello.”

A brief pause, then. “I’m on 4th Avenue, by the Starbucks.” Another pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation. “I’m not free right this moment, but I will be in a few minutes." Another pause. "I'm helping someone get around the city. She got a little lost on her school trip, and you and I both know that the city isn't exactly safe when you don't know your way around it."

Marinette was beginning to wonder who exactly Damian was talking to, but she didn't want to be rude and interrupt. Instead, she got her phone out of her pocket and sent a quick text to Alya, telling her that she would be a little late because she got disoriented on the hectic Gotham streets.

"I'll be free until five tonight. Father's insisting that I come and have dinner with the family, and I have my internship afterward, from seven to nine." Another pause, this one longer. "I suppose that would work. I was planning on going out to eat at some point, anyway. I'll just have to ask Marinette if she's okay with it."

Damian put the phone down and turned to face Marinette. "My boyfriend, Jon, offered to pick us both up and drop you off at your hotel on our way to get brunch. If you don't feel comfortable with that, I understand."

"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Marinette assured him.

Damian frowned slightly before replying to his boyfriend. Marinette knew that Damian probably thought she wasn't being cautious enough, but she didn't care. After four years as Ladybug, Marinette was confident that she was capable of taking care of herself.

A minute later, a car pulled up beside them. “This is Jon’s car,” said Damian as he grabbed the door for her.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled in return as she pulled her suitcase in after her. "Hello, Jon. I'm Marinette."

"Welcome to Gotham, Marinette." Jon leaned past the driver's seat to shake her hand. Marinette noticed that he had a very friendly face: a nice smile and kind eyes. "How are you enjoying the city?"

"It's nicer than I expected, I suppose, but I didn't exactly have high expectations. Gotham has a reputation in Europe for being the worst tourist destination in America."

Damian nodded. "That sounds like Gotham. It'll grow on you, though."

"Like a fungus," added Jon.

"If you say so." Marinette cast a distasteful look out the window of the car at the gray streets.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. The hotel has a restaurant on the ground floor, but their lunch menu is pretty limited. I'm vegetarian, so my only option is a salad."

"Would you like to come to brunch with us?" offered Jon.

"Are you sure you want me there?" Marinette didn't want to be a third wheel if brunch was supposed to be a date between Jon and Damian.

"Of course," said Damian.

"Alright. I don't think I'll be missing anything if I go with you. Our itinerary keeps us pretty busy at the beginning of the trip, but we were given today to rest up, to help get rid of the jetlag. I switched my sleep schedule a week ago, though, so my body is already running on Gotham time.”

Damian nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to check the itinerary, just to be sure?”

Marinette shrugged. “It can’t hurt to check it one more time.” She pulled the paper out of her suitcase. “Our class doesn’t have anything planned until tonight. We have dinner at a restaurant called..." Marinette consulted her itinerary, "The Coast, and then we’re seeing Wicked at one of the theaters downtown.”

“I've been to The Coast before with my family. They have very good vegetarian options. It is very expensive for a high school class trip,” Damian noted.

“I go to an accelerated school. The school has a very large budget, due to the amount of tuition, and the number of alumni who give back to the school.” Marinette shrugged, a nervous tick. She didn’t like talking about how much her tuition cost. Even with her 50% scholarship to Francois Dupont, tuition was still a struggle sometimes. Her parents didn’t make that much money from the bakery, and compared to the elite professions of some of her classmates' parents, Marinette was often considered to be poor. It left her feeling out of place, guilty every time she felt embarrassed by her working-class parents.

“That sounds-“

Marinette continued to babble. “I’m grateful for the opportunities that François Dupont gives me. Much more grateful than a lot of my classmates, anyway. Some of them only read the itinerary for the first time on the plane ride to Gotham. One of my classmates, Chloé, threw a fit because she believed that the entire trip would be a shopping spree through Gotham. Other students got mad for other reasons. One of my classmates made some promises that she had no business making - telling everyone that we would be getting way more free time than we were actually given. It’s a shame. I used to love being a part of Mme. Bustier’s class, but everything fell apart after...”

Marinette stopped half-way through her sentence and stared down at her hands as she realized that tears had sprung to her eyes. She felt the red flush of embarrassment begin to overtake her face. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. It sounds like you have a lot going on with your class at the moment."

"That's putting it mildly," said Marinette. "It's been... difficult, to say the least."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. Even if Gotham wasn’t my first choice for our class trip, I still want to at least try to have a good time.”

“What was your first choice?” asked Damian, a hint of curiosity to his voice.

“Amsterdam,” said Marinette longingly. “But Lila wanted to visit her boyfriend in Gotham, Damian Wayne, so the whole class ignored the fact that Gotham is the most crime-ridden city in America, all so that Lila could visit her boyfriend.”

Damian looked shocked. “Did she say her boyfriend is Damian Wayne?“

Marinette nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

Jon snorted. “I know that you like girls too, Damian, but I figured you would tell me before adding a third to our relationship.”

Damian rolled his eyes, quipping back something just as clever. Marinette was too stunned to listen, as she realized that the rich and powerful Damian Wayne whom Lila claimed to be dating was the same Damian who helped Marinette on the streets of Gotham. Marinette stuttered out, “I didn’t- I didn’t realize that you- you’re Damian Wayne.”

Damian chuckled. “I can tell. I have to admit, I’m not used to not being recognized. I'm pretty famous around Gotham."

“The Billionaire Bisexual Ice Prince of Gotham,” quoted Jon with a grin on his face. “The tabloids love Damian.”

“It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. The tabloids obsess over everything even slightly unconventional, and to them, the bisexual bastard son of billionaire Bruce Wayne is the perfect target. Even more so when he started dating another man.” Damian's voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness to it. Marinette got the sense that he didn't often open up about his relationship, for fear that the media would not be kind about it. Marinette sympathized. Françoise Dupont had been a progressive school: they had a GSA and a no-tolerance policy (not that the policy was ever upheld). She hadn’t been bullied, per se, for being bisexual, but she had experienced the all too familiar feeling of being othered for who she happened to love.

“Nice use of alliteration,” said Jon. His words would have lightened the mood if it wasn’t for the slight strain to his voice.

It was obvious to Marinette that this was a sore subject between the boys. “So how long have you two been dating?” asked Marinette, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Two years, but we’ve been friends since middle school,” answered Jon. “Damian was the world's most uptight twelve-year-old, so I took it upon myself to get him to loosen up. We became friends and everything since then just sort of fell into place.”

“An apt recounting, even if it omitted some pertinent details.” Damian conceded.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I was the one to ask you on a date, and you were so shocked that I had figured out that you were bisexual that you dropped the glass in your hand, shattering it,” teased Damian.

“I thought I was being subtle about it,” Jon defended.

Marinette giggled. If she could just spend all of her time with Jon and Damian, rather than her class, she might just have fun on her class trip.

Damian turned to Marinette. “He had a pride pin on his jacket and listened to Carly Rae Jepsen. Subtlety is not, and has never been one of Jon’s string suits.”

Marinette noted that she had a pride pin of her own attached to the front strap of her backpack. Most people never took any note of it - Marinette had quite a few pins on her backpack - but Marinette got the feeling that Damian was aware of it.

"We're here," said Jon, parking the car in front of a little café.

"Café Carlisle has good vegetarian options," Damian assured her as he opened up her car door and helped her out. "They make a superb gourmet grilled cheese sandwich and tomato basil soup. I would recommend it to anyone."

"That's pretty high praise. I get the sense you don't give false compliments."

"I don't." It was a simple answer. Marinette was beginning to get a clearer picture of Damian, who didn't waste unnecessary words but was never afraid to speak his mind.

"Then it had better live up for expectations," teased Marinette.

Damian smiled at her as he held open the door to the restaurant. "It will."

As Damian led Marinette to a booth in the back of the restaurant Marinette caught sight of the reflection of her little group in one of the windows. There was a look on Jon's face that Marinette wasn't sure how to interpret. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn't the joking smile Marinette saw a lot of in the car. It was more of an indulgent smile, giving Marinette the sensation that Jon knew something that she didn't. Marinette wanted to turn around and ask him what it meant, but part of her brain begged her not to ruin this budding friendship before it had even begun.

Marinette had only known Damian and Jon for twenty minutes but already had the strangest feeling that there was a connection between them, some sort of relationship that needed nothing more than a little bit of shown vulnerability to create a deep bond. The only thing Marinette could think to liken it to was love at first sight, but it was beyond that. This wasn't infatuation or obsession (both of which Marinette knew well from her days of crushing over Adrien). This was deeper. This was the knowledge that Damian and Jon had seen her vulnerability and had embraced it, showing vulnerability in their own way. Neither boy had said it out loud, but given that they had both closed themselves off from physical affection as soon as they were in public, Marinette made the assumption that any sort of public display of affection was off-limits to them anywhere that the tabloids could see. It put the fact that they had been incredibly open about their relationship in a new light. It reassured Marinette that she wasn't just imagining their connection. Damian and Jon must have felt similarly about her to be able to talk to her about their relationship.

"Marinette?" Damian spoke her name, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.

Marinette blushed. "Sorry, I tend to daydream a lot."

Damian smirked. "I'm aware. You almost wandered right into traffic the last time I caught you daydreaming."

Jon stifled a laugh. "What could you possibly be thinking of that would make you so focused that you managed to ignore the traffic right in front of you?"

Marinette launched herself into a spiel about her newest design inspiration, explaining as she went that she was incredibly passionate about fashion and designs and that her designs often had her zoning out for hours at a time. Jon and Damian looked so interested in her explanation that Marinette blushed, not used to having anyone's undivided attention.

Marinette wasn't yet certain where she stood with Damian and Jon in terms of the relationship between the three of them, but she couldn't wait to find out.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[iwhishtomeetinournextlife]

An anonymous lover (Part 5)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, angst, arguing, not proof read

Word count : 2.2k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - You're here - Part 6 - Part 7

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

--------------------------

It is not possible. It is a mistake. He has dream of that moment so much, he is just imagining things now.

Sirius was in his dorm, laying down, looking at the stars on the canopy of his bed. He has stuck all the enveloppe he had receive decored with stars there, so he could see the sky before falling asleep, this had helped him to sleep better for the past few weeks.

But even the soothing looks of the stars could not help him calm his mind, he simply could not believe the person he was exchanging letters with, for now soon to be two months, was a slytherin. He knows her house shouldn’t be important, that no matter what she had helped him in so many ways, but he had developped such a hated for this house, he could simply not accept it.

He didn’t dare to compare the handwriting, fearing it would be indeed true, but after a few minutes he finally decided to look, he had to be sure, he couldn’t stay in the mystery like that for much longer.

He took the notes Y/N gave to him and the latest letter, the one he got today, it was a warming letter, she was talking about how she used to climb trees with her brother when she was a kid but never dared to go high, and how all the assignment was stressing her out and that writing to him helps her feeling better. Sirius felt like shit reading the lines.

He finally compare the two handwriting and threw his head back when they were the same. All the memories of the letter who were a source of joyed turned into a taste of disgust in the back of his tongue. What was before a blessing to be able to read those impossible lines became a curse. He hated it.

He hated how much of an impact her being a slytherin had on him, he didn’t want to deal with the emotion and decided to burry it deep inside of him. He didn’t copy the notes Y/N gave him and used Remus’ instead, he didn’t go to supper that evening, he didn’t respond to the letter like usual, and he didn’t sleep that night.

---------------------------------

Y/N was a bit surprise to not have any letters from Sirius that night, she had not see him in the Great Hall either, that got her a bit worried. She tried to reassure herself, he did say he had difficulties with that specific potion so he was probably studying.

She laughed at that idea, she had never seen him study before, clever and smart Sirius. Always finding ways out of situation, always the right answer in class if he bothered participating. The two month were over soon she realised and he had still to find her. She felt a bit of dispointment but also a satisfaction of winning the bet. She blushed when she remembered Sirius had promised a date if he find her before. Would he still wants to ask her if the bet  was over ?

She thought for a moment, she hoped he would, she was still a bit scared to reveal herself, but she was confident everything would go alright if she did. After all, they had spend so much time sharing their hearts, it couldn’t desappear that easily, right ?

The next day she searched for him in the crowd and she felt her stomach flip, he looked livid, her first thought went to his mother, has she send another letter ? She felt so bad for him, she just wanted to hold him in her arms and tells him everything would be alright because he was capable of anything.

When their eyes met, Sirius quickly looked away, he didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to think of all the things happening in his head and she was only making things worse. Y/N didn’t know what to think of that, she decided to let him his space, he could always write to her if he needed her help.

But Y/N’s concern only got worse, it was Remus who gave her back her notes, and when she asked if Sirius was ok, he just nodded and said he will be alright. He completly ignore her in class, and wierdly enough he seemed to look at her way more often than before but always looked away when she noticed him.

She send a little message, a very short one, “Are you ok ? I’m worried”, all she was able to write down, she felt a weight in her stomach getting heavier every day and sharp glass in her throat forbbiding her to talk.

Those feeling only got worse when Sirius only responded with “I know who you are. Astronomy tower, 11PM, tomorrow” Y/N has never sweat that much in her entire life.

-----------------------

The walk from the dungeon to the astronomy tower was a long walk, and she was very careful to not get caught by anyone patrolling the corridors, she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Each step getting heavier. But when she finally arrived, he was there, looking at the window, he turned to her when he heard someone enter.

For a solid second they just stand there, looking at eachother, not daring to say a word, but after a few moment it Y/N who spoke. “So... You know who I am”

“Yeah..”, his eyes looked in the void, he didn’t know what to do, he felt completly paralized. “Well.. What now ?” she didn’t dare to look a him either. “I don’t know”

Y/N froze for a moment, he didn’t know ? He is the one who asked her to come here ! After all they shared to one another, all the words exchanged, all those freaking kisses and hugs that’s all he had to say ? What for ? “Is it because I’m a slytherin ?”

Sirius didn’t answer for a moment but that spoke for itself, Y/N scoffed, tears running down her cheeks. “Of course” Sirius frowned “What do you mean by that ?”

“Of FUCKING course the great Sirius Black can’t deal with the fact he befriended a slytherin, how could have i been this stupid to think he could get over his own prejudice on a house he knows nothing about” Sirius stood from the window seat and walked to her visibly pissed “I know enough ‘bout yer stupid house to know t’s just a bunch a soon to be death eaters !”

Y/N open her mouth, completly shocked “Death eater ? Death. Eaters ? What do you even know about it ? Have you even try to talk to-” “Actually, yes, I did ! And mind ya all those I have talked to are nothing but monsters, so I prefer keep you and your kind away from me as much as possible”

Heavy tears were falling, how could he say that ? Her voice were cracking “Me and my kind ?! Do I look like a monster to you ?” Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times “Maybe, yeah ! I know nothing about you !”

“NOTHING ?! I OPEN MY HEART TO YOU AND SERVED IT ON A GOLDEN PLATE !”

“WELL I DON’T WANT IT ! YOUR PEOPLE ARE NOTHING BUT A SHAME TO THESE SCHOOL, I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW YOU ARE LET STUDYING HERE !  NOTHING BUT ABOMINATIONS ! YOU WILL JU-”

“MAY I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE ?!”

Y/N and Sirius froze, Professor McGonagall and prefect were standing at the door, arms crossed, a severe look on her face. “So ? I’m waiting”. Both the students were heads down, ashamed of being caught like four years old. It is Sirius who answered “Nothing Professor", she frowned when she saw the tears Y/N was quickly swipping away and her puffy eyes. “Well I am sure you will gladly do nothing at your detention tomorow after class”

“Yes Professor” have they replied in union, “Now, I believe you both know the way back to your dorm ? Go Miss Y/L/N, accompagny her Mister Collins, and it better not happen again” Y/N nod, unable to say another word and got out, following Collins. “Follow me Mister Black”, Sirius followed without a word.

After a few minutes, when they were starting to climb the moving stairs back to the Gryffindor commun room, she spoke, “I will not hide to you that I am quite desappointed Mister Black”, he frowned but before he could they anything, McGonagall added “I heard enough of your conversation to know what was happening, Mister Black” He felt his blood running out his face, probably leaving whiter than snow. “Professor I-”

“I don’t need your explainations, what you have said to Miss Y/L/N is simply intolarable, I thought better of you” Sirius was now red of shame, he didn’t know what to say, actually, he already regretted every words, he regretted them the second they have left his lips. “I can understand your disfavour toward the slytherin, I know your difficult relationship with your family and the fact they were all from this house, but I need you to understand that not all slytherin are bad people, the same way not all people who were from gryffindor turned out to be good people. Do you understand ?” Sirius nodded “I want you to think about it, goodnight Mister Black”

Sirius said goodbye and enter the common room before going to his shared dorm, he was not surprise to see that none of the marauders were sleeping. Sirius put the map he had used to sneek out in James drawer, his friend spoke “Where were you ?”

He didn’t answered at first, letting himself flopped on his bed, face first and groaning into his pillow. His friends looked at each other, worried, “Were you with a girl ?”, that only made him groaned louder. “C’mon, talk t’ us” said Remus, who stood up to sat beside his friend.

Sirius didn’t said anything for a moment, he was gnaw with guilt, he wanted all he said back, when he remember you crying his chest tighten, it was his fault if those tears were rolling down your cheek, if you were screaming at him, he had said such horrible thing to you but you didn’t said anything bad, you just observe a hard truth : this idiot could not go past his jugmental ass.

“The anonymous lover is Y/N”, all the marauders gasped together and hurried beside on his bed. “So ? What happenned ? You should be through the roof !” Sirius turned around, “I knew it for ‘ few days now”, James widen his eyes “ ‘nd you did tell us ?!”

Sirius grimaced “I know ! ‘m sorry ! ‘t just...” Remus frowned, something bad happened. “Pads, what have y’ done ?”, he simply put a pillow on his face, groaning and speaking intelligible words. “Wha’ ?”

“I TOLD HER SLYTHERIN WERE ABOMINATIONS !” they all sat there for a moment. James finally took the pillow from Sirius and hit him as hard as he possibly could with it “You. Are. An. I. DI. OT.”

“OUCH ! Yeah, YEAH ! I know, stop hitting me !” but he didn’t stop before a few more hit. He stop and catched back his breath. “I wouldn’t like to be you” said Peter, “Yeah, no shit Worm-” -another hit from James- “What do I do now ?!”

“Wha’ ? ‘cause you want her now ?” questionned Remus, he did not approve of his friend behavior, but he assumed that since he basicly called her a monster, he must not want to be with her. He observed his friend for a moment “C’mon, tell us everythin’ “

Sirius told them everything, from how he foud out, to what McGonagall had told him, passing by the horrible things he said to Y/N and him hiding his feelings away, getting interrupt occasionly by hit from James. But then he stopped, realising something horrible. “Oh no. Oh no no no no, I’M BECOMMING MY MOM !” He put his face in his hands. “I said such horrible things to her, she didn’t deserved any of it ! How do I make her feel better ?” He sounded desperate.

James put a hand on his friend’s shoulder “You gotta show her you really regret wha’ you said”

“Maybe some gifts ?” suggested Peter.

“Nah, first you have to deal with yer slytherin hate” said Remus.

Sirius frowned “What do you mean ?”

“If you want to date a slytherin, you have to deal with your irrational hate towards all of ‘hem”

“It’s not irrational ! I have perfectly good reas-” but he stopped mid-sentence, it was the argument with Y/N all over again, he sighed, he did need to deal with that.

“Let’s sleep, it’ll be better tomorow” said James who went to his own bed, the rest nodded and did the same.

Sirius put on some pyjamas and laid there for long minutes, thinking about why he hated slytherin so much, about his family, about Y/N. About the tears he caused, he wanted to punch himself for that, he swore that night that he will do anything to put a smile on her face and never see her cry again. He knew it will be hard but he will do anythign to deserve her fogiveness.

----------------------------

@blackpinkdolan  @jentaculargums @bruxa0007 @deathkat657 @theincredibledeadlyviper @bleh-bleh-blehs @whiskeypowder @edithsvoice @weasleybeb

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 6

Again, this one goes out to you beautiful enablers! You who comment, reblog and are along for this journey through AU land! I see you, I appreciate you and you make my day :D

So, uh, a quick question: Which do you, read readers, prefer; either one giant part 7 or more regular sized part 7 + a part 8... What’s your vote?

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

“I want you to train me. Teach me how to fight.” Dulsissia blurts it out as she settles herself down next to where Davarax is sitting on the floor with his blaster meticulously laid out in pieces on a blanket in front of him to do maintenance on the different parts.

Davarax freezes for several seconds and then he cautiously puts the pieces he was holding down and he looks over at her. “I, uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Dulsissia frowns. He doesn’t think she can handle it?

“I’m sure we can ask Decco to train you.” Davarax offers.

“Bee-cause you don’t want to.” Dulsissia draws out the word, not entirely sure whether to be hurt or offended, but right now she’s leaning towards both.

Davarax lifts a placating hand, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Had it been any other man, Dulsissia would have gone on a rant by now, but she knows Davarax wouldn’t say no if he didn’t have a good reason. “Would you mind telling why not?”

His hand slowly sinks down again and he makes a couple of efforts at starting a sentence, but in the end; Davarax’ shoulders sag slightly with defeat. “It’s just… not.”

“Why not.” She insists. Fine, Dulsissia can ask Decco, but she will at least know why the most skilled fighter in the Covert refuses to train her. He’d even called her Mandokarla once. “You don’t think I’m Mandokarla any more?” 

When had she broken his faith in her? When she’d panicked over that storm trooper? Was that it? Mandalorians aren’t allowed to show fear?

“You are!” Davarax blurts out. “You definitely are. Mandokarla. You are.” He then sighs again and gestures faintly towards himself. “It’s me, okay? I’m the problem.”

“You?” She narrows her eyes suspiciously. How can he be the problem? He’s their best fighter.

“I’m too…” Davarax searches for the right word. “...invested.” He finishes, somewhat lamely, and his hand just drops to his lap.

Dulsissia snorts. “You’re training my son, your own kids, but you can’t train me?”

“You’re different.” Davarax mumbles, sounding awkward.

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia inches closer. “I want to learn and I want to learn from the best. Please? I’ll be a good girl and do everything the teacher says.”

Davarax makes an odd sound deep in his throat.

“I know you are busy and you’ve already helped me so much and it is incredibly selfish of me to put another burden on your shoulders,” Dulsissia confesses, feeling the taste of shame again, “but I trust you. And… I like spending time with you. No offense to Decco, she has been wonderful, but she’s not exactly… cheerful. Or especially fond of conversing. She threatened to glue my mouth shut yesterday and I honestly think she wasn’t joking.”

Davarax chuckles, sounding both resigned and fondly amused. “She wasn’t.” Then he hangs his helmet low for a moment or two before sighing yet again and looking over at Dulsissia. “Okay.”

Letting out a low squeal of delight, Dulsissia bumps her shoulder against his. “Thank you! You won’t regret this.”

Davarax makes a sound as if he’s not entirely convinced about that before he picks up the blaster pieces again and continues his work. “Tomorrow. Thirty minutes before I teach the kids.”

“Thirty minutes?” The man pushes the children far harder than that. “That’s it?”

“One, it’s your first lesson. We’ll be going over basics. Two,” Davarax’ t-visor turns to look at her, “I thought you were going to do what the teacher told you to do?”

Dulsissia puts on her sweetest smile and nods. “Thirty minutes. Before the kids. Yes, sir!”

Davarax sighs, how many times is that now in such a short while, and turns back to his blaster.

-

She meets up a little early, eager and wearing her finest skirt, ready to impress and become the best student Davarax has ever had. Dulsissia straightens her spine and gives him a bright smile when Davarax enters the training room.

He comes to a halt when he sees her, then clears his throat and continues to walk over to her. “You’re early. Good.”

Dulsissia tilts her head, still smiling. “Ready for training. As you can see.”

Davarax makes a non-committing hum.

She can’t keep it up any longer. Dulsissia reaches down, undoes the two buttons and lets her skirt fall to the floor to reveal the far more practical pants she’s wearing underneath. “Ha! Got you!”

He does the Davaraxian huff of a laugh and rewards her with a faint nod. “Funny. Very funny.”

Stepping out of the skirt before picking it up to fold it, Dulsissia rubs her successful prank in with a smug cackle. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to say anything. You’re so sweet.”

“I can’t believe that you don’t think I won’t get back at you for calling me out on it.” Davarax replies, crossing his arms and tilting his helmet in a challenging way.

Dulsissia grins, puts the folded skirt by the wall and trots over to stand in front of him without a hint of fear. “Whatever you got, my good Lord Davarax, I can take it.”

Davarax just looks down at her, breathes, and for some reason; Dulsissia’s heart does a flip.

Then the Mandalorian suddenly unfolds his arms, clears his throat and steps away to take up a position she’s seen the children start the day with.

“We’ll start with the basics. Just the basics. It’s going to be harder for you than the children because you’ve grown accustomed to your body in a way they haven’t had the time to yet, and you’re going to have to unlearn a bit of that plus replace some old reflexes with new ones.” Davarax says.

Dulsissia forces herself to focus and tries to copy the stance. “I’m ready to sweat. Show me.”

Davarax glances over at her, she can feel his gaze slide over her, then he nods.

Yeah, okay, Dulsissia is starting to understand why he’d been hesitant to agree to teach her. He’s an excellent teacher, explains things so well, but she’d failed to take into consideration how every single touch of his hands on her, despite the gloves, despite the layer of clothing, results in flares of heat, moments of complete distraction and a flush to her face that has nothing to do with the strain of the exercises.

She had complained about thirty minutes not being long enough, but after twenty five of them; Dulsissia resolutely sits down and lets out a loud, unladylike groan at the ceiling. Who could have known copying moves that Davarax makes seem easy would be this hard? And while Dulsissia had not considered herself to be out of shape, this has left her completely exhausted.

“Still five minutes left.” Davarax points out, standing next to her, sounding smug.

Dulsissia decides to wipe that smugness off his face. Fast as lightning, she flings herself over and grabs a hold of his lower leg with both of her hands, aiming to bring him down to her level, and she yanks with all of her might.

Nothing. It’s like trying to pull at an AT-AT. And Davarax just looks down at her.

Groaning, Dulsissia lets go and flops over to lie on her back. “It was worth a shot.”

Laughing, a low, warm sound, Davarax eases himself down to sit next to her. “It was cute.”

Cute? Dulsissia glares over at him. And before he realizes his mistake, she launches herself at him, climbs into his lap and shoves at his shoulders. Maybe she couldn’t topple him over on his feet, but surely she can knock him over like this?

No.

She’s not entirely sure how he does it, he moves too fast, he’s too strong, but suddenly she’s on her back on the floor and he’s hovering over her. His hands are pinning her wrists to the floor and a quick tug tells her she has absolutely no chance of getting loose. Dulsissia grins. “Also worth a shot.”

Davarax hums, deliberately not to touching her with anything but his grip on her wrists. “Be careful with your shots, Dulcy. You don’t want to end up like this with the enemy.”

Her face burns. She’s suddenly so very aware of him. “It doesn’t feel all that bad, to be honest.”

It feels like all of the oxygen in the room abruptly disappears, gravity gives up and the temperature sky-rockets. Neither of them move. The tension keeps growing and then…

Davarax looks over at the door and scrambles away from her half a second before the children come stomping into the room, chattering and eagerly anticipating today’s lesson.

Dulsissia closes her eyes and let out a long exhale, just as she hears;

“Mom…?”

-

It’s Din’s birthday. Dulsissia had overheard it by accident when Din had been talking to her son and he’d mentioned how he was counting down the years to when he would finally be allowed to put on the helmet. 

She’d asked when he was having his birthday celebration so she could get a present for her son to give him and felt no small amount of horror when Din said there wasn’t going to be one. His parents had said there was no point so he assumed that meant no celebration.

Well, he was wrong about that.

As Din is more comfortable there, she arranges the birthday celebration in her and Corin’s room and invites the rest of Davarax’ children, plus the man himself. It’s a small thing, compared to the parties she used to throw, but it is a huge deal to Din. He shies a bit away from being the centre of attention, but with Davarax and Corin both encouraging him; Din ends up actually enjoying it a little.

And it is all worth it when a red-faced and awkward Din gives Dulsissia by his own free will a quick hug at the end of the day.

Dulsissia then has to hide a smile when Paz ‘innocently’ mentions how he has his birthday exactly one standard week after Din’s while they are seated at the table and devouring the sweets she’s made. (She’s getting pretty good at this baking thing. The fighting? Less so, but she’s improving.)

Paz’ father has a big celebration for his day, but while Dulsissia mostly observes it from the outside, she can’t help but to notice how, while it is in his name, very little is focused on Paz himself. It’s mostly about his father, adult food and strong spirits. Not much for a twelve year old to enjoy.

So she throws him a party in her quarters with the other children and their teacher like she’d done for Din. And Dulsissia feels her heart break yet again when, at the end of the day, Paz hugs her so tight he almost squeezes the air out of her.

Standing next to her, Davarax sighs as he watches Paz leave with the other kids in tow. “I didn’t really celebrate my own birthday much so I never thought about theirs. I let them down.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Dulsissia replies with a bittersweet feeling, “you are the only person in this place who hasn’t let them down.”

Davarax shakes his head. “Not entirely true, but thank you.”

She turns to face him, places her hand on the breastplate where she’d feel his heart if not for the armor. “You took them under your wings when everyone had given up on them. You didn’t just give them the abilities to survive that they are going to need, but your attention and kindness as well. You are those children’s entire world. And I don’t think they could have chosen a better man.”

Davarax reaches up and covers her hand with his. “Dulcy… Do you know what a kov’nyn is?”

She shakes her head. Her heart is going faster and faster.

“Find out.”

“How?”

Davarax does his trademark huff-laughter. “You’re a clever girl. You can do it.” He then lets go, says his goodbye to Corin, who sits on the bed and watches them with a far-too-knowing grin on his face, and gives a final bow to Dulsissia before leaving as well.

Flustered and a little breathless, Dulsissia walks over to clean up the last traces of the dinner.

“Mom.” Corin says.

“Mmh?” She replies, wondering if she can ask Decco what a kov’nyn is or maybe just try to find some sort of dictionary so she won’t have to trouble her all the time.

“Can we ask Din to stay here with us?”

Dulsissia gathers up the plates. “Baby, I don’t think Din’s parents would like that.” Unfortunately.

“He says they wouldn’t mind.” Corin replies. “Also, when you and Davarax become girlfriend and boyfriend, can I call him ‘dad’?”

Dulsissia straightens with a jolt and her face flares up so badly it hurts. “Go brush your teeth, baby.”

“But-”

“Go brush your teeth!”

-

The Tribe doesn’t have an abundance of datapads or old fashioned books. Most of their teachings are done verbally, but Decco is kind enough to ask around and two days later, a Mandalorian in an orange armor agrees to borrow Dulsissia something similar to a dictionary.

Too curious to wait until she is back in her room where Corin is getting ready for bed while she rushed out to get the book, Dulsissia stops in the middle of a hallway to look up the word. She’s dying to know what Davarax had hinted at, what he was trying to tell her and wanted her to know.

Turning the pages, Dulsissia finally finds the word. ‘Kov’nyn’! There it is!

A headbutt.

Dulsissia blinks. What? Excuse…? She vividly remembers the sight and not to mention the sound of Davarax headbutting that poor Mandalorian during his training and her eyes widen with startled surprise. What?! Was he going to do that to her during their next training? Oh, nonono, no way.

Just as she’s about to slam the book shut and declare that Davarax had been right; Decco might be a better teacher after all, Dulsissia almost accidentally reads more of the text.

Or: A kiss between couples when wearing armor.

Now she does slam the book shut and she’s finding it a bit hard to catch her breath.

Oh.

“I heard you were looking for a book on Mando’a.” A voice says behind her.

Making a startled sound, clutching the book close, Dulsissia spins around and is even more startled when she sees the golden armor and fur cloak.

It’s her. The leader.

“Yes. I, uhm,” Dulsissia awkwardly pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I thought it was about time I learned a little more about… Mando’a. You have all been so kind to me.”

The leader looks at her and her body language is as impossible to read as her facial expression hidden by her helmet.

Dulsissia tries to smile.

“I also hear your son is making good progress in his training.”

Nodding, Dulsissia tries to hide how nervous she’s feeling.

“On his travels, Davarax has brought back many Foundlings. That is his Way and that is The Way.” The leader says. “But he has never brought back an outsider.”

Dulsissia loses the smile and she feels her shoulders sagging a little under the heavy weight of shame. “He… He was kind enough to save me from some horrible men.”

“Mmh.” Is the flat reply. “Are you going to take the Creed?”

Surprised, Dulsissia struggles to find the right answer. She’s been so busy trying to deal with the present that she hasn’t really planned her future. “I… I don’t know.”

That does not seem to impress the leader of the Mandalorians. “Then find your Way. Before you ruin his.”

Watching the Mandalorian walk away, Dulsissia isn’t entirely sure how she feels about this conversation. She’s getting the distinct feeling that this was a message for her to stay away from Davarax, but why? Surely the leader of a warrior tribe does not care about the love life of one of her soldiers? And what gives her the right? Rude.

Frowning, Dulsissia starts walking back to her room while the thoughts keep churning in her brain.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, not even when she walks over to Davarax’ door instead of her own and finds herself knocking on it. Dulsissia waits until he opens the door, says her name in a slightly confused tone, and then… she drops the book, reaches up with both hands to take a hold of the top of his breastplate and promptly pulls him down to thump her forehead to his helmet.

Ow.

Letting go, Dulsissia takes a step back and rubs her forehead. One eye closed, she stares at him in confusion. “I think you people got kissing a bit wrong. It’s not supposed to hurt, you know?”

Stunned, Davarax finally straightens back up and reaches out a hand to take a hold of her upper arm in case she falls over. “I don’t… That’s not how…” The Davaraxian laughter huff appears before he urges her to take the step back to him. “Can I show you?”

Dulsissia moves closer to him willingly enough, but she keeps rubbing her forehead and hesitates. “I’m not sure if I want another concussion.” Maybe she isn’t Mandokarla after all? She prefers softer things than headbutts from her date.

“Trust me?” Davarax asks in a quiet tone.

Sighing, Dulsissia lowers her arm. “Fine. But if I am knocked unconscious, you’re in charge of making breakfast to Corin tomorrow as an apology.”

“Deal.” Davarax murmurs, but in an absent way. His hands are already sliding up to cup her face and she shivers at the memory of them without gloves. “Close your eyes, Dulcy.”

Swallowing hard, she does. Suddenly she doesn’t care if he headbutts her into tomorrow as long as he doesn’t take his hands off her or stop talking.

“It’s mean to be gentle…” Davarax says, so soft and smooth, his hands tilting her head backwards, just a little, but enough so her body automatically arches against his. “It’s meant to be warm…” One hand moves to cup the back of her head, the other slides down to her lower back. “It’s longing…” Smooth beskar gently meets her now very warm skin and he eases her body close, so very close, until she’s firmly up against him with a very strong arm around her waist. “and it’s giving.” He tightens his grip around her.

Reaching up, Dulsissia’s fingers dig into the fabric on his upper arms, desperate to hold on to something so she doesn’t just swoon in his arms like a bad theatre actress.

Davarax lets out a soft exhale, it’s sounds almost like relief, and she can feel the muscles in his arm tightening a little more, his hand cupping her head and holding her there, as if she still isn’t close enough for him.

Time stands still. All she feels is heat, him and her own frantic pulse.

Breathless, far too warm for any decent explanation, Dulsissia reluctantly opens her eyes when he pulls away and shivers with disappointment when he lets go of everything but her hand.

“That’s what it’s meant to be like.” Davarax says.

“Oh.” Dulsissia manages. Okay, maybe everyone else had something to learn from Mandalorians.

It takes a visible effort for Davarax to make himself let go of her hand, for a second she can see the twitch in his shoulders when he stops himself from pulling her close again, but he lets go and now he is the one to take a step away. “Good night, Dulcy.”

“Good night.” She whispers, and it takes a visible effort for her to turn around, pick up the book with numb fingers and go over to her own room.

-

Stupid Mandalorians and their stupid headbutt kissing! Now Dulsissia can’t even look over at Davarax without feeling her face burn or be near him without having her heart to backflips all around her ribcage. This is making her life very frustrating!

And her only comfort is suspecting that Davarax isn’t faring much better either. Judging from how he walked into that table yesterday when she stretched out.

The training? Oh, it’s the sweetest torture ever.

She’s on her way to pick up Corin at Din’s room when a familiar piercing way of screaming catches her attention and Dulsissia doesn’t hesitate to run towards the sound.

Inside what looks to be school room with several pillows on the floor placed around a larger one. A group of scared children are huddled together in one corner while a Mandalorian who looks to be the teacher is restraining a fully feral Raga, with one big hand gripping her arm and the other hand is locked around her neck and preventing her from moving her head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dulsissia shouts, stalking in and shoving the Mandalorian away.

Once again surprise is on her side and the Mandalorian stumbles away, releasing the little girl and Dulsissia does not hesitate to crouch down and wrap her arms protectively around the flailing child. Pain flares when sharp teeth dig into Dulsissia’s arm and latch on.

“She’s completely feral!” The teacher shouts, pointing at Raga. “I’ve taught children, youngsters and foundlings alike, for decades and I’ve never met a child that feral! She’s hopeless!”

“What do you expect when you restrain her like a rancor? I’d bite you too!” Dulsissia shouts back at him. She gets up, hoists Raga in her arms, ignores the pain of the teeth still digging into her and marches out of the room with her.

She’s halfway to her quarters, Raga still hasn’t let go but at least she has stopped flailing and screaming and is just quietly twitching so that’s something, when a Mandalorian comes trotting with Davarax on his tail. They both come to a halt when they see Dulsissia carrying Raga.

“I was just coming to…” Davarax points helplessly in the direction of the classroom. “They said she…” He sighs at the sight and reaches out towards Dulsissia’s arm. “Here, I’ll try to-”

“No.” Dulsissia snaps, turning away to shield her arm and Raga from him. “I got her. I’m taking her to my room. You go tell Corin, he’s with Din, that I’m going to be late, and then you go get us Paz.”

Davarax seems a little surprised, but eventually he gives a nod and Dulsissia continues her march back to her room, giving a quick couple of pets to Raga’s back as she’s still twitching.

Once they are inside in the safety of her and Corin’s room, Dulsissia walks over to sit down on the bed. Raga is a bit larger than Corin, her thin frame doesn’t make her much heavier, but she’s taller and it takes a little arranging of her skinny legs and arms. Once they are settled, Dulsissia continues to run her hand up and down Raga’s back and just waits.

To her surprise, Raga lets go of her arm. And a few seconds after that, the girl quietly mumbles; “M’ sorry…”

Smiling, Dulsissia continues to stroke her back. “It’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t mean to.”

“He said I had to sit in the corner because I threw some thing at him.” Raga mumbles. “But I didn’t. It wasn’t me!” She starts to get agitated again. “I told him it wasn’t me and he said he was going to tell my parents I was a liar and have them punish me!”

Forcing her own anger away, Dulsissia strokes the girl’s back again. “I’m sorry he did that to you, sweetie. I’m sorry he didn’t believe you. That was wrong of him.”

“It wasn’t me…” Raga whispers.

“I believe you.” Dulsissia reassures her. And for the next ten minutes, she just holds her close, strokes her back and pets her hair. And anger quietly simmers inside.

Finally Davarax arrives and in his footsteps, Paz follows. He instantly darts by his teacher at the sight of Raga and the girl doesn’t hesitate to twist around to reach out to him.

Dulsissia gets up from the bed and watches Paz take her seat, pulling Raga close and lets her curl up on his lap. She almost disappears in his embrace. That boy is going to end up a giant if he doesn’t stop growing soon and yet he treats his friend with such mesmerizing gentleness.

“Your arm…” Davarax asks quietly, looking over.

“It’s fine.” Dulsissia replies. It aches like crazy and there will definitely be bruising, but that is not what is important right now. She looks over at him. “They called her a liar. They were holding her down like a rabid loth-cat. And they are surprised she bites?”

Davarax shakes his head. “I know…” He sounds pained and resigned. “The four of them are marked as troublemakers. If something goes wrong, if something could have gone wrong, they’re always blamed. And I can’t stop it.”

Dulsissia’s eyes narrow. “Stay here with the kids.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to talk to someone.”

-

Dulsissia raps on the door with urgent haste and this time she doesn’t wait for the drowsy Mandalorian to speak before she asks; “Is he in?”

He is.

She knocks and then barges in to the room, startling Barthor into a defensive stance. Dulsissia ignores the tiny fists. “What I’m about to ask you can never be repeated. Do you understand?”

Barthor stares at her, slowly lowering his fists. “What?”

Dulsissia stalks closer and he backs up a step so she crouches down for them to be the same height. “I need you to do something for me and no one can ever find out.”

Barthor’s dark eyes slide from side to side, as if checking for hidden cameras. “Do… what?”

“I want you to make me a stink bomb.”

Snorting a laugh, Barthor shakes his head and walks over to sit on his bed. “I don’t know how to-”

“You know.” Dulsissia interrupts him. “Will you make me one?”

Barthor frowns, now suspicious. “Why? What are you going to do with it?”

Dulsissia raises an eyebrow. “I want to place it in the room belonging to man who teaches Raga’s class.”

That seems to make Barthor even more suspicious. “Why?”

“Because he’s a bully to Raga.”

Something flickers in Barthor’s eyes. “He was mean to Raga again?”

Again. The word hurts Dulsissia’s soul. If that man had been mean to her son, he wouldn’t have had the chance to do it ‘again’. She nods.

Barthor stares down at that floor for a little while, then he jumps to his feet and sighs. “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

It takes him eight to finish it. But he insists on joining her when she goes to plant the contraption.

“You might do it wrong.” Barthor informs her, gingerly easing it into a small bag.

Dulsissia rolls her eyes but follows him when he marches off towards their unsuspecting victim.

Once there, it’s clear it won’t be as easy as they hoped. The man is in his room.

“You distract him, I’ll plant it.” Barthor declares.

Dulsissia nods. “Be careful.”

Barthor smirks. And they go to work.

Knocking on the door, Dulsissia waits for the man to open it and then begins lecturing him on all the wrong ways to handle a sensitive child, not letting the man get a word in, and she barely catches the shadow of little Barthor sneaking by them and into the room.

She keeps her rant going, the man is too surprised and startled to do much than come with feeble objections, and the second Dulsissia sees the shadow sneak out by the man’s legs again, she finishes her speech.

“Good day to you, sir!”

Marching down the hallway, she rounds a corner and finds Barthor there. He looks up at her with a hint of respect.

“Not bad.” He says with grudging respect.

“You too.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out a hand and shakes his when he takes it. “But remember, no one can know.”

Barthor grins. “Don’t worry. No one is going to be able to to prove anything.” “Good.”

When the stink spreads in the man’s room, Dulsissia and Barthor has picked up Corin, and somehow Din ends up tagging along, and they are all safely in Dulsissia and Corin’s room, along with Paz, Raga and Davarax. Eating cookies.

And Barthor was right; nobody is ever able to prove who was behind it.

-

“Mom, are you sure we can’t ask Din to stay here?” Corin asks one morning.

Sighing, Dulsissia looks over at her sweet son. “I told you, baby. I don’t think his parents will like that. Is there something wrong? Is that why you keep asking?”

Corin, sitting on her bed, shrugs and looks down. “He doesn’t like it there.”

Clearly, as the child spends most of his time with them rather than his parents, but Dulsissia isn’t sure how Mandalorian adoption works. She’s fairly certain it would be frowned upon if she just started hoarding children from them. Otherwise, she would probably have had bunk beds and five children in this room. “I’m sorry to hear that, Corin. Has he tried to talk to his parents?”

Corin shakes his head. “He doesn’t like talking to them.”

Dulsissia has a sneaking suspicion that Din doesn’t like much, except Davarax and her son. At least he has excellent taste. “Do you think he’d like me to talk to them?”

Corin shakes his head again. “He won’t like it if he knew I’d told you.”

Figures. Dulsissia sighs. “Then I don’t know what we can do, baby. They are his parents. We are guests here.”

“Well,” Corin looks over at her, “at least he can come and visit as much as he likes?”

“Absolutely.” Dulsissia confirms. “And I’ll ask if he can stay over some time. Would that help?”

Her beautiful boy lights up with delight. “Really? You’re the best, mom!”

“Remember you said that when I tell you to clean up your toys.” Dulsissia declares.

Corin laughs.

It’s such a wonderful sound. He never used to laugh. He’s always been such a silent child, like Din, but the longer they have stayed here at the Covert; the more Corin has come out of his shell.

He no longer cowers behind her leg when they are in the common room with the other Mandalorians. He still flinches when someone raises their voice, but at least he doesn’t go pale and look like he’s about to pass out. He has friends. And there is a father figure whom Corin greets with joy and looks forward to spending time with, unlike his biological father.

Losing her dresses and servants is a price she’s more than willing to pay to see her son this happy.

There is just thing that could ruin everything. And considering it’s not just harmless flirting any more, Dulsissia decides it is time to tell Davarax.

She asks Decco to look after her son, which she grudgingly agrees to despite meaning the boy is old enough to look after himself, and then Dulsissia asks Davarax to meet her in Din’s hiding space.

“Well,” Davarax say as he steps over a piece of engine and barely manages to make his way over to where she’s sitting on a sofa pillow without falling or knocking himself unconscious against some metal part sticking out amidst the debris they are surrounded by, “this is romantic.”

“Sorry.” Dulsissia says, too nervous to be amused by the graceless way he tumbles down on the pillow next to hers. “I just wanted us to be able to talk in private.”

The tone of her voice makes him sit up and pay attention. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to tell you something.” Dulsissia says, sighing. “And I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”

“You can tell me anything.”

Oh, how she hopes that is true. Dulsissia takes a deep breath, looks down at her own hands as she wrings them nervously in her lap. She smiles a little when his hand moves over to cover them and stops her from hurting herself. Okay. Here goes. “I told you my name is Dulcy.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not.” She glances over at him. “Well, it kind of is. It used to be my nickname. My name is Dulsissia.”

Davarax gives a faint shrug. “Okay?”

“Dulsissia Motti. The man looking for me, his name is Macero Valentis. He is Corin’s father.” Dulsissia braces herself, turns her gaze down to his gloved hand over both of hers and dreads the moment it will withdraw.

Davarax’ voice is carefully neutral. “If you’re a Motti, surely your family will help you get rid of Valentis?”

Dulsissia’s smile is bitter and it hurts. “No. I stupidly defied them to marry him and I’ve been told that I have to lie in the bed I made.”

Davarax hesitates. “Would you like to go back your family?”

Looking over at the man by her side, unable to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, Dulsissia shakes her head. “No. And they’re not my family. They don’t know what the words means.”

Davarax’ hand withdraws from hers, but only so he can gently cup the side of her face. “Mottis and Valentis, they don’t scare me if that’s what you were worried about.”

“Kind of.” Dulsissia admits, a tear slipping from her eye. “I have seen the destruction they can cause. I don’t want to bring it here.”

“We’re Mandalorians.” Davarax says, a slight grin in his voice. “We thrive on battle. It’s in our blood. And they would find us a lot more dangerous than any other opponent they’ve been up against in the past.” His thumb caresses her skin, wiping away her tear, and his voice softens. “They don’t matter. They’re in the past. You are here now. You’re Dulcy. And Corin is safe. You both are.”

It might not be Mandokarla, but Dulsissia doesn’t care; she leans over and he wraps his arms around her.

“As long as I breathe,” Davarax mumbles, holding her close, “you and Corin will always be safe.”

[dragon-fics]

(The Dragon Prince) A Different Life (Mentor!Aaravos X Apprentice/Reader)

Online classes had me very bored, so I started to think back to my original prologue of HA and here is the basic Idea I had, in first person.

This is partially based on @kurizeria‘s OC Naymora and her story with Aaravos.

Chapter summary: You are Aaravos’ elven apprentice in a time before Dark Magic, the Mage Wars, the division of Xadia and, Aaravos’ imprisonment.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

Centuries before Aaravos’ imprisonment

“Master? Where are we going?” I whined, chasing after him.

Aaravos sighed. He’d started to do that a lot recently. Was I becoming annoying because I was a teenager?

He spun around, his dark cloak whipping behind him. “(Y/N), we’re going to Elarion. Like I said this morning?” he said, as if he were trying to jog my memory.

I placed my hand on the strap of my satchel. “You didn’t mention anything this morning,” I muttered, “you just said it was time to leave.” He had become very forgetful recently and almost presumed I had telepathic powers like dragons do—and I am not a dragon.

Aaravos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right... I’m sorry. I’ve just been very busy with Ziard’s project.”

We started walking again. “The ‘project’ he so desperately needs the Archmage to help him with? Why can’t he just do it himself, if he wants the ‘project’ finished so badly?” I was becoming irritated with this human ‘mage’. He visited almost every day and made demands about the project, asking Aaravos to have it done quickly, when he had done all but nothing to aid its completion—whatever it was. And every time he’d visit, he’d eye me disgustedly and insist I leave, even if it was in the middle of a lesson.

He drew in a sharp breath. “(Y/N), you need to calm down. Once the project is finished, Ziard will be out of our lives, I promise.”

Crossing my arms, I said, “I don’t like this, Aaravos. I can see such darkness in him. Whatever this project is, I hope it doesn’t bring more harm than good.”

“That makes two of us.”

I glanced at him. Was that regret in his voice?

“So, what is this project?” It was a question I had been wanting to ask for months.

Aaravos hesitated. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

He glanced at the long object on his back, wrapped in burlap and string. “It’s best you don’t know.”

I looked at the path ahead of us, Elarion was just beyond this hill, I had travelled enough times to the city with Aaravos to know where it was from here.

Aaravos looked up at the hill and reached inside his cloak, pulling out a small bag of coins. “Go to Elarion and find somewhere to eat, I’ll catch up with you later.”

I followed his gaze. “You’re meeting him here?”

“Just take the money, (Y/N). I’ll see you in Elarion.” He placed the coins in my hand and started up the hill.

I frowned and did I was told, tucking away the bag under my cloak.

*-*-*-*

Aaravos’ stead galloped ahead of mine as the moon lit our path dark overgrown forest path.

“Master, what’s happening?” I called out. He had woken me up in the middle of the night in a panic, saying someone was coming and that they knew everything. He muttered about his regret in making something and making something for ‘him’.

He said nothing, just kept moving.

“Aaravos!” I called.

“The Mage Council is hunting me,” he shouted above the steads’ hooves and the sounding his cloak.

“Why?”

He didn’t respond. What had he done?

I reined my mount to a stop. He released a snort of displeasure.

It took Aaravos several moments to notice I was missing. “Why did you stop?!” he demanded, turning his stead around and rejoining me.

“What have you done?!” I retorted. “What have you done that has not only placed you in danger, but me, your apprentice, your child?!”

Aaravos hung his head in shame, something I have never seen him do before. “I’m sorry.”

“What. Did you. Do?” I said, irritated.

“Ziard is dead. Before Sol Regem killed him, he told Sol Regem that I had given him the staff. The staff was his project.” He looked up at me.

“You started all this? The Dark Magic, the humans being banished, the Mage Wars! You...” I paused, unsure what else to say. “You created that... weapon.”

“(Y/N), please... It was supposed to be a gift, and act of equity from us to humanity.”

I held my face in my hands. He had talked of this ‘act’ since I was an elfling and I knew very well he had never meant to hurt anyone or bring such destruction and hate.

I lowered my hands and drew in a breath. “So, what are we going to do now?”

“Hide.”

“They’ll find us, no matter wh—.“

“You. You need to hide,” he said solemnly.

“What about you?” I moved my stead closer to his.

He raised his hood and looked back at the trail, to the sound of heavy paws and shouting coming closer.

“No! I’m not leaving you to them! They won’t hesitate to—,“ I cut myself off, unable to finish my sentence.

Aaravos placed a hand on my cheek and kissed my brow. “I rather you be safe.”

“They won’t stop at you, they’ll think I’ll know something as well.”

He paused and turned his mount around. “You’re right. So,” he turned to face me, “are you with me?”

“Yes, Master,” I breathed.

We started off again, but our steads weren’t as fast as the hunters’. With every second they got closer and our path was getting harder to traverse.

“Can’t we teleport?” I asked over the hoofbeats of our steads.

“No, they’re too close and we’re moving to fast and the search parties are everywhere right now.”

I looked on at the path ahead. There had to be some way to get rid of them.

But then they yanked me from my saddle and pulled to the ground. I yelped and grunted as I hit the ground. I looked at my arm, a metal whip was wrapped around it.

“(Y/N)!” yelled Aaravos.

“Keep going!” I shouted.

He hesitated for a second before his stead ran off.

I was about to draw a rune to cut the wire when they pulled me up onto another stead. I elbowed the rider, but they drew a sleep rune and I fell limply into their hold.

*-*-*-*

It had been centuries since I had last seen Aaravos.

And now he had been captured.

I followed my new master, and Aaravos’ former master, Kalani. An elf so tall and old I was sure he was older than the eldest tree in all of Xadia. He had the most beautiful pale skin and horns that shown like gold that were as large and as detailed as a moose’s, just more curved and elegant looking. A mass of blue robes that faded from pale blue to the darkest night sky, hung on his body with such a long trail that I often tripped on in—and often his hair as well.

We were beside the Moon Nexus, on a full moon, surrounded by dozens of Moonshadow mages.

“Are we ready?” Kalani asked the master Moonshadow mage.

“Yes, Archmage.”

The name he gave him made my hands curl into a fist. How dare he call that arrogant elf that?!

But I stayed as stoic as I could until Kalani turned around. I mimicked his action.

“Bring him here!” he ordered. They pushed a mirror towards us, it was bronze and gold with runes around the glass. Some hunters came forward, their weapons nudging forward... Aaravos.

I looked down, forcing myself away from his bruised and cut face, torn gown and damaged jewellery. He was leaning forward, his hands bound behind him.

“Kalani!” he growled as they pushed him forward. “Why am I here?” His eyes drifted over to me, and I forced myself to look at him. I wanted to rush over to him and heal him, but I couldn’t.

His ears dropped. “(Y/N)!” he forced himself upright and turned to Kalani. “Why is he/she/are they here? He/She/They shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, and he/she/they have been an excellent student,” he twirled a lock of my hair. “So, he/she/they won’t be joining you in your prison, Stella Carcerem,” he looked to the mirror.

Some mages pushed Aaravos towards it and began chanting, as did Kalani. The runes on the mirror glowed, and the glass looked like it was made of liquid. I forced myself to watch as a yellow hue left Aaravos’ body and was pulled into the mirror. His spirit.

He fought it, standing in a meditative state to keep his spirit inside him. But to no avail. Before the last of his spirit disappeared, he opened his eyes and gave me a small smile. And he was gone.

The runes on the mirror faded, and the glass became solid again. “It is done,” Kalani said.

I stepped forward, looking at the mirror; it was blank. Kneeling by it, I placed my hand on the glass. “I’m sorry, Father.” tears spilled from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The mages slowly dispersed and left me with the mirror.

“We’ll meet again, Master,” I whispered. I softly chanted a reincarnation spell, one that would allow to meet up with him again and free him. My skin became luminescent.

“I’m sorry future me, but you need to do this. For Aaravos,” I looked at my reflection, though I thought I could see Aaravos looking at me before my body flashed.

And then—

Darkness

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

[loudstan]

Epiphany

A collection of  NCT werewolf AU stories.

Doyoung (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt. 3) (pt. 4) (pt. 5) (pt. 6) (pt. 7)

Summary: The wolf population kept decreasing and those who were left had a hard time trying to fit  into society. Sure, people didn’t consider them as dangerous as vampires, but wolves could still sense some hostility every time they did as much as go for a walk in a public place. Thanks to wolves’ natural magical abilities, NCT (one of the remaining packs) found a safe place among witches in a town where no one knew their secret, allowing some members to finally get a job, study and interact with others without fear of being rejected.

Life seems to finally be peaceful for them… except that wolves have needs, and one of those needs is finding their mate.

Pairing: Werewolf! Doyoung x Witch! female reader

Warnings: future smut

“...How do I break the bond?” you asked him after a few seconds.

“What?”

You sat up and repeated louder, “How do I get rid of this?” 

Taeyong’s heart clutched at your words. This was not how it was supposed to go. For the first time, someone from his pack had imprinted, destined to love someone the universe had chosen for him for the rest of his life, but now Doyoung’s mate was right in front of him, mark fresh on her neck, declaring she didn’t want to fulfill her destiny. She was rejecting the bond.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sure this is not how you planned your freshman year to go, so I understand if you need some time to accept it…”

“I don’t need time, Taeyong. I need Doyoung out of my life,” you heard him whimper at your words, “Him being a werewolf is not the problem, not at all! It 's him. He 's an asshole.”

“His behaviour hasn’t been ideal, I agree,” he almost stumbled over his own words. “But the truth is, no one around us has ever  been through this before. He is the first and he’s terrified of himself. It’s no excuse, I know, but please…”

He kneeled next to the sofa, looking at the floor in pliability, “Please, give him a chance.”

 “Taeyong,” you sigh and he looks up at you hopefully, “He doesn’t deserve it.”

He thought so too, but he was still hoping you would consider it. 

Before all this happened, his biggest concern was if he would ever meet his mate. Now, he was more worried his mate would reject him like you were rejecting Doyoung. 

Looks like the bond does not necessarily lead towards a happy ending.

“There are two ways to break the bond,” he finally revealed.

Doyoung didn’t sleep that night. He had first waited patiently for his leader to come, but as the sky became darker, his anxiety grew. He exhaled relieved and hurried towards the front door when he heard Taeyong arriving.

 “How is she?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“What do you think?” Taeyong spat and walked past him. 

 If Doyoung could feel the tension, it still didn’t stop him from following Taeyong around the house.

 “Is she mad? Oh god, of course she is… What did she say?” he bumped into Taeyong’s back, who had suddenly stopped walking.

The leader turned around, narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. “If you really care, fix this before it’s too late,” he said bitterly, before entering his room and slamming the door.

And there was Doyoung now, sitting on his bed, trying to come up with a way to see you now that the semester was over...except that it wasn’t for those whose grades were insufficient. He still hadn’t graded your last paper, so if your grade didn’t let you pass but was just enough for a supplementary exam, you would have to show up on campus again.

He mulled it over. It was a dick move, but he could just change your grade after meeting you and say it was a mistake. 

He turned his laptop on and took a look at your grades, calculating the exact number he needed and without a second thought he wrote it down in the last empty space next to your name. Now he just needed to prepare what to say and how to say it.

 The next day he went to campus early, as usual, helped the professor finish with some paperwork and took care of the students that had unfinished homework. He checked his email multiple times, reading the neverending pleas from desperate students who  needed to pass the class. None of those was yours.

 The very same routine was repeated the next day, and the day after, for more than a week. You never showed up and he never got to say what he had rehearsed.

 “Mr. Choi?” Doyoung asked casually, like he hadn’t spent a week sleepless thinking about the topic, “Has Y/L/N contacted you? She’s the only one left for the supplementary exam.”

Mr. Choi paused chewing the chocolate donut he was holding and hummed like he was trying to remember who Y/L/N was. “Oh, she did! She said she’ll be taking the course again next year when she feels more prepared. It’s a shame though, I think she is pretty good, but she doesn’t seem to do well in written assignments.”

Doyoung dropped his phone on the table, the loud sound startling poor Mr.Choi who choked on his donut and started coughing dramatically. 

“Next year? I won’t even be here next year…” Doyoung said absentmindedly, ignoring his professor’s cough. 

“Uh...yeah, you’ll be a great lawyer and  I’ll lose the best TA ever,” he said when he was able to breath again.

 Doyoung tried to smile at the compliment. He really did, but his chest felt heavy. He knew this wasn’t about you not being ready for the class, this was all on him.

What if he sent you an email encouraging you to take the exam?

Or even better, what if he sent you an email letting you know your last grade was a mistake and your paper had made him so proud he felt like he wanted to marry you right there?

He considered all those options on his way home, but by the time he locked himself in his room, he knew he would do none of them. 

He was too prideful.

He was a coward.

 Just when he was thinking he wouldn’t see you again, he smelled your scent. It was faint, but it was there for sure, he couldn’t be mistaken. But, why in his house? Could it be…?

Nervously he walked to the door, opened it and looked down the corridor. There was no one there, but now your scent was more intense.

 Slowly, he went to the kitchen, where Taeyong was getting something to drink. He acknowledged Doyoung’s presence with a nod and proceeded to finish his glass of juice. Ever since Doyong had marked you and run away from the scene, Taeyong had barely talked to him.

 Doyoung looked around, but there was no one else. 

Just Taeyong, standing in the kitchen.

With your scent all over him.

“Where were you?” Doyoung asked. 

Taeyong stopped drinking, he put his now empty glass on the counter and stared at it for a second too long.

“Busy,” he finally replied, attempting to leave the kitchen, but halting when Doyoung punched the wall right next to his face.

Doyoung leaned closer to Taeyong and inhaled deeply. The leader glared back at him but didn’t move. He knew very well who he smelled like.

“Why do you smell like my mate?” Doyoung hissed.

“She needed my help with something.”

“With what?”

Taeyong looked at his feet and swallowed. His mouth felt way too dry for someone who had just drank that much juice. “...You should have fixed things with her, Doyoung.”

“I tried.”

“How?”

“I…” Doyoung suddenly realised how dumb it sounded to admit that he had made you fail the class to have you come to him, so he adapted it to a less childish version, “I have been waiting for her at campus everyday for the past week.”

“...That 's all? You just waited for her to go to you?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“She wants to break the bond,” Taeyong deadpanned instead of answering that question. “She asked me how to do it.”

Doyoung took a step back. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe I did.”

“Would you betray your own pack? What a great leader we have,” Doyoung scoffed in disbelief.

“Well, last time I checked you didn’t seem to want her,” Taeyong huffed.

 No. It couldn’t be. He could still feel the bond, so it wasn’t broken, Taeyong was bluffing.

 Beep!

Taeyong’s phone rang from the counter and its dim light caught Doyoung’s attention. 

Doyoung reached for it out of instinct and read the notification before Taeyong could even move. It was a message from you.

Thanks for everything. I’m ready :)

Taeyong snatched the phone from him and read the message too and then glanced at Doyoung who was in pure shock. However, he snapped out of it when he saw Taeyong moving towards the door.

“Don’t do it” Doyoung pleaded , grabbing the other’s arm desperately.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong sounded exhausted, “What else is there to do? You didn’t want her, now she doesn’t want you.”

“Let me talk to her just once, please. That’s all I ask.”

“You won’t convince her to meet you. She doesn’t even go out nowadays.”

“I’ll go to her place.”

“You don’t even know whe-” Taeyong stopped mid-sentence when Doyoung hid his face on his neck and inhaled your scent.

“Now I do, thanks to you,” And without another word, Doyoung left the house running.

Taeyong stood there dumbfounded.What  did Doyoung mean? How would he find your apartm-

“Oh shit, her scent!” he yelled and dialed your number hurriedly. 

[crossedvenom]

if you want to could you write a small little love at first sight trope with bakugou, sero, and denki 😅😘 if you have time and all that ofc !

Yes Ofc I can🖤🖤 I got a little caried away writing these. They longer than expected.

ty for the request (人 ◕ω◕)

_______________________________________________

Bakugo was walking down the halls with his fists balled in his pockets. He was currently resisting the urge to hit something or someone. He doesn’t know why but ever since he woke up it felt like the world was trying to purposefully piss him off.

The hallway was mostly quiet apart from the occasional student passing by. Everyone seemed to be in the lunchroom. The silence did nothing to help the growing rage that was Bakugo. All the silence did was make him think about all that went wrong that day.

First, his alarm didn’t go off so he was late to class, Then “That damn Deku” had the highest test grade in the class for Mr. Cementosss’ idiotic Math test. Whenever Midoriya beat him at anything it was an instant way to sour his mood.

It felt like Kaminari and the rest of the bunch were more annoying than usual. They kept on bugging him about meeting this general studies student. He doesn’t know who they were and he doesn’t really care. But if he didn’t show up Racoon eyes would never let him hear the end of it.

So here he is walking to the general studies classroom with a pounding headache to meet up with everyone. He’s just going to drop in, cram his lunch down, and leave.

He slowly slid the door open but you guys were so rowdy and loud that you didn’t even notice him step in. He absentmindedly started looking for this mystery person and he almost immediately found them.

It’s cringey for him to even say this but the world almost seemed too slow. He felt his fists unclench and he couldn’t even hear the hammering in his head. He just stood there like a dope staring at you. You were laughing and messing around with the rest of the group.

There were a few rays of sunlight that seemed to leak past the barely open curtains and reflect off of your skin. Making it seem like you were glowing.

‘what was he mad about earlier?’ He can’t seem to remember.

I’m that moment to Bakugo he found something that seemed untouchable, you seemed untouchable. He wouldn’t know he was experiencing love for the first time. at least not yet.

He starts to walk towards you the group.

“Kachan!” Denki slaps him on the back as he walks past. Bakugo didn't even yell at him like he usually did when Denki used that stupid nickname on him he just sat down.

 He didn’t listen when Mina was asking everyone if they wanted to go to the mall this weekend or when Denki was talking about new video game releases. He was just zoned in on you.

He’ll figure out why his hands suddenly get so sweaty when you’re around and why he has the sudden urge to impress you eventually.

And when he does it’s like a “Well Shi-“ kinda moment. He’ll love you in his own way. Insults and spicy food:)

——————————————————————————

“Man, what happened to the weather?” Sero stuck his hand out from under the bridge he was taking shelter under and into the pouring rain. “And it was such a beautiful day too..” 

He decided that he had a long enough break. So he pushed some wet strands of hair back and put his helmet back on. It was his third month of becoming an official sidekick. He had graduated from Yuuei a few months prior and was finally out on the field known as the Taping hero ‘Cellophane’  

Slinging around he was surveying the area but it seemed like he was on autopilot. He was just waiting for the time he could go back to the agency and dry off. His patrol ended in an hour or so.    

he was pulled out of his trance when he heard giggling. 

‘That's weird’ he thought and began to move in the direction where it came from 

It wasn't a creepy laugh but he usually heard the silent curses of people trying to get out of the rain. So obviously when he heard this he had to investigate. That's when he came across you. 

You were one of a kind for sure. While others seemed to curse at the sky or let the gloomy weather ruin their entire day you seemed to bring joy out of it. Wearing a big smile and absolutely soaked to the bone, you tilted your head back and stuck your tongue out trying to catch a raindrop in your mouth. 

Sero’s eyes widened in amusement watching this adult do something so childlike. He started to take in your appearance. The wet strands of hair sticking to your face and the drenched clothes clinging to your body. He felt the chill of the rain leave his body. It was replaced with a sense of ease 

He could have sat there all day if he hadn't noticed your now paranoid behavior you were looking around franticly like you were looking for something. 

Little did he know you were actually looking for him. Not specifically but you had felt a pair of eyes on you and the feeling of being watched was not a comfortable one. You went to pick up your bag and head home.

Sero noticed you were about to leave, he didn't want you to leave  

This was his sign to make a move and stop gawking, he at least needed to know your name. Just about the moment that he was about to swoop in and introduce himself, there was a distant ‘boom’

His head flung around and saw a large cloud of dust not too far from here. Police sirens could already be heard. He looked from you to the obvious sign of a villain attack. 

He debated whether or not to head into the fight a little bit later. Surely there was plenty of other hero's to help. All he needed was a couple minutes to say “H-

No

He had a job to do he would worry about finding you later. Before he could talk himself out of it, he forced himself to drag himself towards the danger and away from you. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours had passed and everything had finally settled down the villain was in custody and he had finished his report and could clock out. The villain had a water quirk and was using the stormy weather to his advantage. 

But that wasn't important even though he was exhausted from a long day he had to go back to that park. A hope within told him that you had stayed there, that he still had a chance to introduce himself.

But by the time he had arrived at the park.

You were already long gone.

——————————————————————————

Denki finally turned off his consul and crawled into bed. He plugged his phone in and looked at the clock

2:34AM

Wow...he’s in bed earlier than last night!

He can’t help it though he met an online friend a couple months ago and ever since his sleep schedule hasn’t been the same. He’ll get on at 8 and say he’s going to go to bed before 11 but when he sees you join the party...A couple more minutes won’t hurt? But who is he trying to kid? The minutes turn into hours but it doesn’t feel like it. Not with you at least

He doesn’t even need to look at you to know that you’re someone special. You guys are best friends. He thinks about you in class, at lunch. Bakugos threatened to rip his lips off because he talks about you so much.

So he can’t help but smile and feel giddy when he recalls his earlier conversation with you.

“There’s a new Arcade opening up near my house and I wanted to go with some friends but they don’t exactly enjoy those kinda things” you spoke into your headset half asleep.

“Oh really? Funny cause there’s also a new Arcade opening up a couple blocks down from my school.” He’s half brain dead as well not putting much thought into it.

“Yeah, It’s a cheesy name like Austin’s Arcade. It apparently has like Go-Karts and Roller skating-“

“Oh the place that’s opening up near me is also called Austin’s....”

“.....”

“....”

If you guys weren’t awake before you sure are now.

“Holy crap! Wait you live near me! We should totally go together!”

“Yeah!”

Denki was smiling like an idiot after months of endless late-night talks and getting to know each other. He’s finally going to be able to see you.

——————————————————————————

He was walking down the street glancing up from his phone every now and then to make sure he didn’t run into anything. Many times he debated whether or not to turn back he was so nervous but he didn’t know why.

You were so easy to talk to and he was so comfortable around you so he didn’t get why the closer he got to the Arcade the faster his heart seemed to speed up. And why was he constantly checking his reflection in shop windows to make sure he looked alright. He’s never cared about these types of things before.

This was his last turn and then he would be able to see you. It's not like he hasn’t seen pictures of you but something about the real thing is different.

He quickly typed “here🕺” and sent it to and then put it into his pocket. He looked around for you and there he saw you, you were standing just outside the entrance cluelessly looking around for him in the busy crowd.

He tried to step forward to go talk to you but he just took a moment to take you in and admire the view. The light breeze was blowing and just barely moving your hair. It was the perfect day for this clear sky and warm weather that seemed to envelop him in a hug and it smelled like the many food carts and stands on the street. It was busy since it was opening day. But even with all these people, you seemed to stick out from the crowd to him.

But then you spotted him. Making eye contact, your (E/C) eyes seemed to take his breath away. The small smile that overtook your mouth when you saw him make Denki’s heart do flips. He was definitely blushing just barely though Denki knew how to keep it cool.

You picked up your bag and waved him over. He caught his breath and began to walk towards you. He had a smile on that could put All Might's signature smile to shame. He stepped in front of you

“Hi I’m Denki”

You giggled “it’s so weird not hearing your gamer tag”

And the day begins...

[alice-angel12x]

☁Vil X Winged!reader X Rook

"Welcome Y/n Rider, to Night Raven College, your Dorm shall be Pomefiore," The dark mirror announced.

It was a major change from my home town. It was kind of a 2nd world country, in my home town we pride themselves on hunting, fishing, weaving, and having the most beautiful of wings and feathers.

To suddenly summoned by the ebony carriage to study at a prestigious school. Then to be thrown into a Dorm full of strange fancy people. Who really like to prioritize their looks.

And these ceremony robes are just so uncomfortable. My wings have no breathing room under these layers. After the ceremony, we were escorted to the Dorm and a welcome party was held.

_____

" What about you, what's your name?" Another first-year asked.

"Huh? Oh, Y/n. Y/n Rider," Y/n smiled nervesly.

"You have such lovely hair, and you have such interesting ears," said a fellow first year.

"Oui, the most interesting ears," said a voice as a hand grabbed y/n's jaw.

A man with straight blond hair and emerald green eyes started to examine y/n's feathery ears.

" Umm, what are you doing?" Y/n asked as they tried to push the guy away from them.

"Just admiring your uniqueness," The guy smiled as he let go of Y/n's jaw.

"Thanks, umm who are you?" Y/n asked as they tried to back away.

"Oh, I am Rook Hunt, 2nd year, I haven't seen anyone like you around before, where are you from?" Rook asked.

"I'm from Prenia," Y/n said.

"Prenia? Oh, they're known for their beautiful weavings. Pomefiore has a couple of tapestries from there," Rook said as he pointed to a tapestry on a nearby wall, " I wish I knew what kind of material they used, it must be high quality if it's that expensive and hard to come by," 

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Y/n said as their wings began to itch under the robes.

"Anyways Dinner is ready, you can tell me all about your home then," Rook smiled as he wrapped an arm on Y/n's shoulders.

As Y/n and Rook sat down as they listened to the Dorm leader's speech, but got distracted by the tiny dish set in front of them.

"Is this it?" Y/n asked, slightly worried.

"Of course, the finest meal Pomefiore has to offer," Rook smiled.

"It's kind of... Small," Y/n commented.

"No it's the perfect serving size, were not pigs," Said a proud voice across from Y/n.

"Ah, I see you're as beautiful as ever Vil," Rook complemented.

"So this is all we're getting?" Y/n sighed.

"I'm afraid so, but It's delicious. You won't be disappointed," Rook promised, as Y/n frowned slightly.

"Don't frown, it will wrinkle your skin, it would be a shame for a lovely face to be ruined so soon," Vil commented as he cut a small piece of his meal.

Y/n watched the rest of the dorm and how they cut tiny lady bits from their already tiny meal. Vil looked up in the first year in front of them and quietly admired their natural pretty appearance. He quickly noticed that this students wore absolutely no makeup or jewelry of any kind. He wanted to know their secret on how they make themselves beautiful, to further his own. As Vil looked up to Y/n again, only to gasp in horror as he watched Y/n stuff the whole morsel into their mouth, like a peasant. Y/n noticed Vil's shocked look, as they quickly chewed and swallowed their food.

"Did I do it wrong?" Y/n asked slowly.

"... Ahahaha! What an amusing joke, eating the entire meal in one bite," Rook laughed, trying to lighten the tension. 

Y/n started to shift uncomfortably as their wings started to itch and twitch under the robe. Their wings need to stretch out and not be restrained. 

"I-I need a breather, I'll be outside!" Y/n said as he hopped over the table, and ran to the doors.

"Wait! It's almost Curfew! First year Get Back here!" The dorm leader shouted.

"I'll be back before then!" Y/n shouted as they ran outside.

"Vil, Rook please bring them back," The leader ordered.

Rook smiled and quickly head for the door, while Vil groaned as he followed rook. The two followed Y/n out of the dorm, as they tried to catch up.

"Y/n, we Have rules to follow! You have school tomorrow, come back inside!" Vil ordered.

"What are they doing?" Rook asked as he watched the strange student loosen the top half of their robe.

The top of the robe was removed to reveal large beautiful wings on Y/n's back as they quickly took to the air. With one powerful stroke to their wings, Y/n was trusted high into the sky. The moonlight shined down on Y/n's f/c feathers as they soared through the night sky. Rook watch in awe, why Vil admired their beautiful wings. After a few flights around the Dorm Y/n finally decided to land. 

"Magnifique, you were absolutely stunning!" Rook said as he examined Y/n's wings.

"T-thank you," Y/n smiled sheepishly, " They were really uncomfortable being retrained under my robes."

"You got your stretch, now put your top part of the robe back on," Vil ordered.

"Fine," Y/n sighed as he stuffed his wings back into the robe.

----------

As vil and Rook waited in the hall for the first year, Vil sighed in annoyance. The current dorm leader put them in charge of Y/n to make sure they didn't do anything to embarrass Pomefiore. Finally, Y/n ran out of their room in a sightly wrinkled uniform and tried to run past Vil and Rook. Vil quickly noticed the slapped together uniform and swiftly Grabbed Y/n's wing that stook out from slits on the back of the uniform.

"What is this, Your Uniform is covered in wrinkles and you tied your tie wrong," Vil huffed in annoyance. 

Vil groaned and smoothed out Y/n's uniform and started to retie the tie, but as he did he looked up to see Y/n's e/c orbs staring at him. Their eyes appeared to be studying him, and for the first time, Vil couldn't read what could be behind those eyes and was lost in them. Vil slowly started to move closer and closer, till their lips were merely inches apart. Y/n moved back and quickly finished up retying and dashed off. 

"Hahaha, you nearly feel under the sirens spell," Rook chuckled.

"What?" Vil asked.

"I finally realized what Y/n was. They are a Siren," Rook said, " Naturally alluring creatures, you almost fell completely under their spell."

"Don't say such foolish things," Vil scoffed as he walked off.

"Y/n, you are a very interesting specimen," Rook said to himself as he pulled out his camera.

___________

Pt.2?

[koelnhbf]

bump into you (knj)

part twelve: you broke the child

genre: fluff!

warnings: nothing we just really, really love namjoon in this house. this is going to be a long one 

“Thanks for the pictures,” you told Namjoon as he handed you back your phone. You looked at your pink cheeks, unsure whether the colouring was caused by the new blush you tried out or because of your date’s devoted picture taking. Although he had told you he’d come pick you up at 7, he had texted you that morning that he’d come pick you up right after classes, so you could be ready by then.

“No problem at all, Yn,” he said and, by the way laughter lines formed around his eyes, you knew he was smiling beneath the mask. 

“Do you want me to take one of you, too?” You asked, switching over to your phone’s camera app, ready to snap a few shots of the guy who just bought you a pre-dinner drink. 

“Not yet, there’s a nice spot I’d like to take you to before we have dinner. Let’s go?” You nodded and settled down on your bike, thankful that the sky had decided to stop snowing that day. One-handed (so you could hold the drink he got you) you rode beside Namjoon through the streets of Seoul and to a park with a hill, where, the moment the two of you arrived, you secured the bikes and made your view to the panoramic view. 

“This is really nice,” you sighed, astonished, taking in the view in front of you. Skyscraper upon Skyscraper blended into a grey array of buildings and contrasted against the warm tones of the greenery beneath you. Namjoon leaned against the wooden railing after taking off his mask and sighed.

“It’s one of my favourite places to come to,” he said and looked down at you. “I come here to think, read, relax, listen to music… it’s one of the best places in the whole city.” 

“And you’re sharing it with me?” You blushed when he looked at you intensely, his eyes being the most beautiful pair you’ve ever seen.

“I’d like to take you here more often.”

“Are you hungry yet?” Namjoon asked as the two of you started walking back to your bikes. You had spent the last two hours on the hill, talking about his job and your masters degree, with the occasional anecdotes about both of your friends.

You nodded, having felt your stomach rumble for some time now but not having had the heart to interrupt Namjoon’s rant about mint chocolate ice cream. 

“We better get going, then.” The ride to the restaurant was partially spent laughing at his jokes and talking about books, whenever the two of you were silent, you thought about how easy it was to speak to him, forgetting several times that it wasn’t just Namu you were speaking to but Kim Namjoon, as the regular phone calls reminded you. 

“I’m sorry, it’s work,” he had said the first time they had called and you had kindly offered to step back from where you were sitting so he could talk freely but he declined. The call hadn’t lasted long anyway and you had only understood half of what was said. By the time the fourth call had rolled in you were chasing squirrels around the park, not really minding his absence but rather buying some nuts off an old woman and offering them to two children that had wanted to play with the animals.

The thought of the kids aggressively throwing the nuts at the squirrels had you laughing when you arrived at the restaurant. While Namjoon followed the waiter to your table you checked out the portions of the dishes of the neighbouring tables and made a silent note to get ramen from the convenience store when you got back home because you were sure that you wouldn’t get full from whatever they served.

“Don’t worry about the dishes, I just wanted us to get something savoury before we go for churros later,” Namjoon whispered in your ear as he noticed you staring at the food. A shiver ran down your spine at his voice close to you and you prayed to whatever deity was listening that he hadn’t noticed. 

“Ch-churros?” You asked, rather dumbly, as if it was too hard to understand.

“An ice skating date isn’t complete without churros and hot cocoa, Yn.” He laughed and guided you to your seat before sitting down in front of you. 

“Choose whatever you’d like.”

“Slowly Yn!” Namjoon called out but it was too late, you ended up falling on your butt again before he could catch you. 

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head and laughed, grateful that he had told you to pack an extra pair of clothes before you left your house in the afternoon. He pulled you up and balanced you before pulling you with him.

“Just try to slide with your feet. Don’t pretend to run. And hold onto me.” His dimples showed as he smiled at you and the clenching sensation around your stomach showed itself for the thousandth time that day. 

“Good job, see? You can do it. I’m going to let you go now, okay? In 3, 2,” without finishing the countdown he let you go, which was a big mistake because you were still unprepared and fell again, pulling him down with you. 

“Ouch!” You cried out before noticing the weight on you. You held your breath as you looked into Namjoon’s eyes, the same you had only been able to admire from afar until now.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your breath visible in the cold air.

“It’s okay, Yn,” he said, his voice strangely low but still loud enough for you to hear, as if he was right next to your ear.

Then the two of you stayed silent, merely stared at each other without moving once. And, as if pulled by an invisible thread, your lips clashed, reunited in a short but sweet kiss, but as quick as it happened it also ended and you were quickly on your feet again, being pulled by Namjoon’s strong arms around the rink. 

“It’s really okay if I post this?” You asked for the third time as you flicked through the pictures, finding a picture of Namjoon ice skating that you took while you were resting. You laughed at it as you went back to the one you were talking about.

“You can’t see my face so sure, Yn-ie.” You smiled warmly as you saved it in your favourites.

You were leaning against your bikes in front of your apartment complex, Namjoon’s face being covered again, in case you walked past other people. 

“It’s a shame I can’t follow you with my main account. The kpop drama accounts would have a field trip.” He sighed and looked up at the cloudy night sky. 

“It’s okay, Joonie.”

“Joonie?”

“Well, I can’t keep on calling you tree!” You called out and laughed as realisation struck him.

“I need to go now, thanks for today. I loved it,” you spoke, though your voice came out as silent as a whisper as you remembered your kiss. 

“Me too, Yn.” You turned around to walk towards your door but got pulled back by his strong grasp around your wrist. With a swift motion, he pulled down his mask and lifted your chin so your mouth could meet his. Contrary to your first kiss, this one was longer and deeper, carrying a longing for each other you couldn’t quite understand. It was only when you noticed something cold falling onto your forehead that you parted. 

“Better get in, Yn, it just started snowing.” He smiled, pulled the mask up again and waited for you to make your way into the building, though it took all of your willpower for you to not stay with him.

— as a high-achieving student from a poor background at SNU, your life has been all about studies. apart from your three friends, your time was divided between your dissertation and the independent bookshop you worked at after class. looking forward to buying the most sought-after book you desperately need for your thesis you notice the only way to keep it is to stash away a copy. what happens when your bookshop is a stranger’s last resort of buying the book? and what if your copy was the last one in all of seoul?

A/N hello my lovelies! i hope you’re enjoying it so far, let me know under the posts and in my inbox. you can also private message me anytime! <3 if you want to be added to the taglist you can ask under each post and i’ll make sure to add you! i’m really always up for a chat, so you can hit me up :) x

⟸ m.list ⟹

taglist: @aquaalanah @cuddlemety​ @detectivejjkie​ @lettersfromsalome @poutyoongiiii @secretlycrazyhummingbird

[miraclekittyandbug]

Ten Questions With A Twist Chapter 3

Here we are! Chapter three of Ten Questions with a twist! Sorry I was a day late, I had some problems with my health. 

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 (This one) ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~

Later that night, after a patrol that left them both wind-whipped, Chat Noir and Ladybug sat on the edge of the Eiffel Tower yet again, staring at the stars. 

“So,” Chat began, “green and orange?”

Ladybug’s face lit up as she remembered how bold she had been earlier in the day. “Yeah! I like green too, and orange is the color of the sunset. Now whenever I look at the sky in the evening, I’ll be reminded of him.”

“That’s nice.” A moment of silence hung in the air before Chat decided he needed to break it. “I have an idea.”

Ladybug was somewhat scared by this confession. The last time he had “an idea” she woke up the next morning with her entire torso bruised from a game of “let’s see how far we can throw each other” (Surprisingly, Ladybug had won. But Chat insisted he was too nervous to use his full muscle power, in case he were to hurt her. He claimed he had only used a portion of his strength and still, that bruise didn’t go away for weeks.) “What’s this ‘idea’, Chat?”

His eyes showed a spark of mischievousness that had become his trademark. “Let’s play twenty questions.”

“No. No way, Chat!”

“You’re totally right, that’s far too many. Ten! We’ll play ten questions!”

“Chat you know why we can’t do that.”

He decided to plead ignorance, shrugging to indicate he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Chat, we’re not supposed to know each other’s identities…” She continued in a whisper, “no matter how much we want to.” That last part was clearly not meant for Chat to hear. He continued staring at the sky for a moment, praying that she had meant what he thought she meant. Praying that she wanted this too. Praying that he wasn’t making a mistake. He wondered if the stars could grant wishes, had they been wished hard enough.

“Well that’s alright, because these ten questions aren’t for you, my lady, they’re for that boy you like.”

Ladybug was taken aback by this. “What?”

Chat continued, “I have a list of ten questions, all written down for you.” He unzipped one of his pockets and pulled out a small piece of paper. “You have to ask that boy you like all ten of them, even if you already know the answer. Ask them in any order you like.”

“But that could put him at risk too! I can’t tell you all these answers!”

“Ah ah ah.” He put his finger up to stop her right there, “This isn’t just a game, this is a challenge.” He paused, leaving Ladybug time to look confused. “Ask him every one of those questions, but don’t tell me the answers. Instead, I’m going to guess what he said. If I get them all right, I get to take you on a date. Anything I don’t guess right, you don’t have to tell me. Deal?” 

“And what will I get if I win, Chaton?”

He smiled meekly, having not thought that far ahead. “Bragging rights?”

“Ha! No way, kitty. If- no, when I win, You have to admit that puns aren’t funny!”

Chat considered this, then nodded his head, “It’s a good thing I’m gonna win then.” He put out his gloved hand, daring her to shake it. He thought, maybe if he focused hard enough, he could read her thoughts, but no such luck.

Ladybug surprised him by putting her hand in his and shaking it. They both took off shortly after that, Ladybug going home to read over this list of questions, and Chat returning home to prepare himself for the next day. He was more ready than ever to find out who his lady really was behind the mask.

At school the next day, Adrien was a nervous wreck. He asked Gorilla to get him to school as early as possible and so was left to wait for fifteen minutes before any other students showed up. And then when other people started to show up, his nerves went through the roof. All of a sudden, every conversation he couldn’t hear became suspicious. Every whisper put him on guard. Every time somebody so much as glanced at him, his heart rate soared. Eventually, he realized he would probably have an anxiety attack if he subjected himself to more of this than absolutely necessary.

Luckily, the warning bell rang, reminding him that, even if he did want to stand here and wait, class would start here in about five minutes and he still needed to stop at his locker to pick up his things. A final glance behind him showed that the courtyard was clear, save for a streak of blue-black hair racing toward the school. Typical Marinette, Adrien thought, before making his way to his locker.

Barely five minutes later, Adrien plopped down in his seat in a way that would put his father to shame. He couldn’t worry about grace at a time like this, though. He was out of breath and got to his seat just in time, the final bell ringing a few seconds after he sat down.

Marinette burst into the room just as the bell rang. Once again, she managed to be almost late. She bent down and put her hands on her knees, catching her breath and steadying herself. Now that she made it to class, she seemed to be in less of a rush to get to her seat. Her whole body sagging from exhaustion, she waved at the class before making her way around the first table. Briefly, she stopped in front of Adriens desk and opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, but she must have forgotten, as she walked away to take her seat.

Ms. Bustier started to sort through the pages on her desk, preparing for the first class of the day. Adrien got out his tablet and slouched in his seat. Was Ladybug not going to ask the questions? Did he do something to scare her away? Or worse yet, was this all one big coincidence? A lot of people’s favorite color is green, a lot of people are fond of orange. Maybe he jumped the gun, got too excited to see that this could all be explained away as pure chance. 

The teacher started class and Adrien had a feeling he wouldn’t be learning much today. Good thing that homeschooling has me ahead of the learning curve.

Lunch couldn’t have come soon enough. Adrien had talked himself out of being excited for the rest of the day. Of course it had been a coincidence! There’s no way his Lady was torn between two sides of the same person. How crazy could this get, Ladybug rejecting Chat Noir for his civilian self. That would be ridiculous. 

As he got his tray and walked across the cafeteria, he overheard the familiar voices of a reporter and her friend. When Alya spotted Adrien, she made sure to speak loud enough for him to hear.

“Well let’s ask Adrien about this!” 

Adrien spun around and saw Alya and Marinette walking towards him. Alya was a bit ahead of her friend, but Marinette had what could only be described as a satisfied smile on her face. 

“So Marinette and I were talking. I want to see America one day, go to Hollywood in California. Marinette wants to go to China at some point to meet her mother’s side of the family. What about you?”

Adrien thought for a moment, feeling as though he missed something. “Would I like to meet Marinette’s side of the family?”

The two girls burst into laughter.

“No!” Alya said, “We’re talking about dream vacations. What would be yours?”

And Adrien didn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knew exactly what to say, he just didn’t expect to say it to a friend. He shook his head in an attempt to rid his brain of this daze he was in. Wow, he thought, that was one of the questions on my list to Ladybug. Two coincidences in two days that’s wild! Still half in a daze, he answered honestly, “I’d like to go sightseeing in Italy.”

Nino joined them, having overheard just enough, “Dude, haven’t you been to Italy before, for like fashion week and stuff?”

“Well yeah,” he continued, “But that was all business. I want to go sightseeing! See the colosseum and walk the streets of Rome. Pay way too much money to get into one of those carts where they bike you around to all the tourist spots. That kind of thing.” 

The group chatted a bit but eventually the bell rang and they retreated back to their classroom. Adrien didn’t even notice Marinette behind him, scratching a question off of a list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is! Next chapter comes out in two days!

~ Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ This Chapter ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~

[violet-knox]

Unspoken Words

Moonie’s Writing Challenge Part 2: Treasure

Pairing:  Young Snape x Slytherin Female Reader

Prompt:  “They’re so cute when they’re asleep”

Summary: You find yourself reaping the consequences of breaking school rules last nigh in detention.

Word Count: 3885

A/N: Ah, it’s been a while. Sorry I’ve been so scarce on tumblr, life is just hard sometimes. I think I’m going to focus on my entry for the Snape Bang before I try getting back into LSL but hopefully I’ll be more active soon. I hope you like part 2 of my entry for @moonie-writes​‘s writing challenge and thanks for reading! 

Part 1

Plates filled with sandwiches, wraps, salads and chips filled the Great Hall as you entered, thoughts of last night beginning to seep back in as you walked to the end of the Slytherin table with Severus. You’d hardly slept last night after how your night had ended and neither of you felt the need to leave the dorm for breakfast, so you stayed. Even when you snuck into the boy’s dorm to snuggle up next to Severus, sleep continued to evade you and you knew you weren’t the only restless one last night. If the circle under his eyes hadn’t given away his tired state, his constant movements last night surely did. Neither of you had spoken a single word to one another since last night, yet you each knew how the other felt. The silence was your only comfort. It was the one place where you knew you’d both find one another again if either of you ever felt lost and even now, sitting next to him as you nibbled on some fruit, you could sense his amenity. 

Your palm warmed at his icy touch, his fingers slowly grazing the inside of your hand as your eyes met his. Your own fingers played with his a moment before seeking to interlock and rest in place. A smile made its way to your lips as you looked up at his peaceful expression. His love for you had always astounded you. Sure, he was never one to express how he felt for you in traditional manners but it meant that much more to you knowing that he’d stepped away from his own place of comfort to share his feelings with you. You knew you’d never forget last night the same way the day he’d first spoken those three words to you had created a memory you knew would stick with you for the rest of your life. It felt like such simple times back then, yet it was only a couple months ago. You’d found an empty compartment as the Hogwarts express left for Hogwarts and you’d spent the ride there doing nothing more than sharing your dreams for your last year at Hogwarts with one another when he’d suddenly whispered I love you. He was so sure of himself, like he’d planned it out the entire summer you were apart. The way he looked at you, the way he kissed you when you returned the gesture, it was the same compassion he wore right now. He loved you with everything he had, and you knew in that moment like you did now that nothing could ever change that. 

The sudden gush of air from above tore your gaze from each other as everyone turned their attention to the owls flying above, seeking for the recipients of the letters tied to their legs. You knew you weren’t expecting a letter and you’d never once seen Severus receive anything from his parents so you turned back to face him, about to speak when two owls landed on the table right in front of you and Severus. They both stuck out their legs, offering you the letter they carried but you didn’t have to untie them to know what message they’d brought you. You’d recognized them as school owls and since Hagrid had failed to mention what punishment you’d be facing last night, you assumed he’d managed to remember today, just in time to ruin your lunch. Hesitantly, you both reached out to untie the letters, letting the owls reward themselves with a bit of your food as you unfolded the letter and read:

Your detention will begin tonight. Professor Kettleburn has asked for some help preparing for her lessons this week so you will be spending the night outdoors. Dress appropriately and meet me near the edge of the pumpkin patch tonight at 8:00 pm. 

Hagrid

“Well, it could be worse,” you said, stuffing the letter in your pocket. Severus let out a frustrated sigh as he leaned forward and let his hair fall around the sides of his face. 

“I’d rather scrub first year cauldron then deal with whatever creature Hagrid wants us to tackle,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him. He could hardly imagine what kind of danger you would both be facing tonight after seeing the way the Gamekeeper interacted with all those creatures throughout the years. It was as if they were nothing more than harmless pets trained to be as loving as a dog but of course, every student at Hogwarts knew better. Severus ran his fingers through his hair as he tried not to think about tonight, hoping you would both leave detention unscathed.   

“It’ll be fine,” you said, carefully running your index finger along his hairline and tucking his hair behind his ear. Your gentle voice accompanied by your swift touch soothed him. He could simply melt in his chair if you continued to show such compassion for him.  

Slowly, he reached up to grab the hand caressing his cheek. Taking a moment, he pressed his lips into your palm as he lost himself in your eyes. He’d gotten so used to leaning on your support so much over the past year, he could hardly believe he’d ever lived without it. At times, he’d take a moment to remind himself that what he had with you was a privilege, one that he knew he had to do everything in his power to protect. He was lucky to have found you, to have someone he cared for return his love and to put to rest the lonely bitter boy he’d once been, replaced by a man full of potential. 

“Care to go for a walk?” He asked in a low, soothed tone. Being in this room, surrounded by students with Professors peering over everyone wasn’t something he was particularly fond of, especially with the dread he felt over his upcoming detention weighing him down. He needed to get out of here as he knew you would too. 

Smiling, you nodded your head as you turned your hand around so your palm was facing his. You stood on your feet and gripped him tightly, leaving behind your unfinished lunch along with the grief you felt when those letters arrived. You’d only just stepped outside the Great Hall and already you felt lighter. Walking closer to Severus, you placed your free hand over his arm, cuddling it as you leaned into him, letting him lead you to the Entrance Hall. 

Severus walked out towards the empty courtyard and looked up at the same sky once flashing with lights now completely clear, filled with a soft blue. Absentmindedly, he began walking towards the same place he’d usually go to in a time of distress, the same place he’d learned to share with you and you alone; the hilltop behind the Black Lake next to the Forbidden Forest.

It wasn’t a surprise to either of you that you’d ended up back here, laying on the grass beside one another, silently enjoying the last breeze of the spring air. You’d always ended up back here whenever Severus felt the need to break away from reality and spend some time alone with nothing but his thoughts. You found him here the day after Lily had so publicly ended their friendship, the day of your first kiss, the day you were meant to head home for the Holidays in December and each time, you’d simply joined him, sitting in silence until he’d found his way back to you, his hand slipping into yours.

This was the first time you’d both shown up together, the first time your fingers had been locked between his before you’d settled into the grass and it almost felt like the gesture had solidified the bond between you, entwining your souls forever. You were no longer one person comforting the other but a couple sharing in your worries, emotions, pain and joy. You feel in love sharing the silence of the library and now here you were ending this chapter of your life together int eh same way. 

Time flew by as you sat there with Severus, watching the sky slowly darken, few words exchanged between you both. You wanted to sit there with him until the Hogwarts Express came to take you away one last time but as you looked at your watch and realized the time, any sort of peace you’d found the last few hours slowly sizzled away. You groaned into his chest, wrapping your arm around his waist and hugging him as tightly as you could. Closing your eyes, you thought of what might have happened to your weekend if you hadn’t been caught last night, staying up late with Severus, reading with him until you fell asleep in his arms, running your fingers through his hair as you both cuddled the day away. But you were hardly one to complain when you were to blame for the detention you’d both received instead. 

“It’s time isn’t it?” Severus whispered lowly, watching you protest against him as the sun slowly began to set. You nuzzled into him further and mumbled incoherently. Severus sighed as he loosened his grip on you, squeezing your shoulder as he looked up at the sky one last time before lifting himself up and propping himself onto his elbows. 

You let out another groan when you felt him moving beneath you, frowning as you lifted your head from off his chest and looked up at him. Sitting with your legs crossed on the grass, you looked down at your lap in disappointment, the small sliver of hope that your detention would have somehow been cancelled by now lost. “Sev, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, confused at your sudden apology. 

“It’s my fault we have detention. I ruined our last few weeks at Hogwarts,” you explained, wrapping your arms around yourself, keeping your head low in shame. 

Severus had never seen you like this before and it worried him. Did you really think all the blame of what happened last night feel on you? And how could you possibly believe you’d ruined your last few memories at Hogwarts together? The only thing he could possibly imagine ruining his seventh year is if he’d managed to lose you. He was happy, he was always happy so long as he was with you, even if you were sharing detention together, at least you were sharing it as a couple. 

“(Y/N),” he said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, scouting over to sit next to you, his thighs pressed against yours. “Detention isn’t going to ruin our final year.”

He knew his words meant nothing, that you were too far in your head to believe him but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help reassure your conclusion was false. Slowly, he pushed aside your hair, trying to catch your attention but you simply refused to lift up your gaze. “(Y/N), look at me.”

He could feel you ever so slightly relax beneath his touch, your eyes slowly turning towards him. His palm naturally rested on your cheek as your eyes met and he could see all the pain and blame weighing on you beneath the depth of your iris. No words were exchanged as you both revealed in the presence of the other and as he stared into your eyes, he could sense your burden lighten, released under the weights of pressure you’d created. 

Eventually, your smile returned to your face and he felt your weight shift as you lunged at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His chest filled with warmth, his hands placed on your back as he hugged you. It always astounded him how powerful your connection with him was, stronger than any magic he’d studied over the years and as you found comfort in that strength right now, he’d found the same would apply to him when he needed it most. 

“I love you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck. 

“I love you too,” you replied, your smile stretching from ear to ear as you pulled him in closer. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly let go enough to rise to your feet. Hand-in-hand, you both made your way around the Forbidden Forest to begin your detention together. You weren’t afraid nor were you worried about whatever punishment you were to endure for the mistakes you’d made last night. Severus was right there beside you and you knew that no matter what happened tonight, you had him to lean on. 

“Come round, all o’ yeh,” spoke Hagrid, gesturing for you and the others who were unfortunate (or perhaps fortunate) enough to get caught after dark last night by him to follow to the other side of the pumpkin patch behind his hut. Looking around at the others, whatever remaining guilt you felt began to fade as you realized you weren’t the only one last night caught admiring the stars, and you certainly weren’t the only Slytherins to be caught during Hagrid’s patrol around the Forbidden Forest. 

“Most o’ yeh should recognize these furry creatures-” he started his spiel, pointing out the nifflers running around in the designated area he’d created for them. “They’ve jus arrived an' i need yeh ter help me prepare 'em fer Professor Kettleburn’s class tomorrow.”

You and Severus exchanged a quick look before turning your attention back to the hyper energetic creatures bouncing from one corner of their playground to the next. Though you really weren’t a fan of the havoc wrecking creatures, your detention definitely could have been a lot worse, especially if you were assigned to someone other than Hagrid. You were both suddenly very glad you’d chosen to take Care of Magical Creatures in your fourth year, realizing everyone else that was here had also likely taken the class and learned about Nifflers. 

“Before we begin, remove anything shiny an' place ‘em in here.” Hagrid pulled out a small box, walking around between the students as they removed any jewelry, pins or clips and placed it into the box. You quickly undid your watch then reached around the back of your neck to undo your necklace and place both items in the box. 

You were heartbroken to part without the small charm Severus had gifted you, secretly housing the vial of Liquid Luck he’d won in Potions last year. You could still remember that day like it was yesterday, jealous that Severus was the only one in the class that had managed to almost complete the challenge Slughorn had set but that jealousy slowly turned into pride as you spoke to him after class. He’d brushed it off so easily but you could tell he was truly skilled in the art of potion making which you knew you could never compare to and for the first time, that was okay. He deserved the prize he’d won and so imagine your surprise when you found out a year later he’d saved it all this time. 

He was strategic, holding it for a desperate time, one he’d claimed he’d almost reached over the summer but he’d held on, letting life kick him down and fighting his own way to get back up again. You didn’t want to accept the gift at first, feeling the pressure was too much for you to carry, even his words weren’t enough to convince you he was making the right choice. But the way he looked at you, the trust he conveyed when he’d asked you to keep his vial of Felix Felicis was like something out of a movie. You’d never felt the way you had that day, like you could feel his trust with a simple look into his eyes and you’d become a simple agent of love, doing her bidding, following your instincts. You took the vial and promised yourself you’d find the right time to use it, a time that would benefit Severus most. 

“Now, watch carefully,” spoke Hagrid as he set the box aside. You tore your eyes from where your necklace sat and tried to focus on the gamekeeper instead as he approached the Nifflers. “Yeh don' wan' ter scare 'em when yeh go ter grab 'em. Carefully pick 'em up, an' gently hold 'em by their ankles outside the gate an' let the items fall out o' their pouch.” 

Hagrid did as his instructions demanded, and you watched a few coins and trinkets fall out of the pouch of the niffler in the hands of the giant man. 

“Yeh wan' ter put 'em back inside the fence before picking up the items which yeh can place here.” Hagrid placed the Niffler back with the others and went to gather the items that had fallen to the ground and place them inside another, larger box. Placing that box far enough away from the Nifflers, he then instructed everyone to spread themselves out along the fence and empty out the pouches of all the nifflers. You and Severus made your way to the edge of the enclosed area, setting yourselves down to do as you were instructed. 

Severus watched a few of the others catch a niffler before reaching over the fence to find one of his own. They were a lot more agile than he’d first remembered and he very quickly learned why this task was being given as detention. Each time he’d try and lift one off the ground, it would slip out of his hand and run around as if it was playing some sort of game with him. There was no doubt in his mind, scrubbing cauldrons until his fingers fell off was a much more merciful punishment than this. 

“Blast!” Severus grunted as another one escaped his grasp for the third time. Looking over at you, he saw you smiling as you held your first niffler, carefully hoisting it over the fence and emptying its pouch. The niffler immediately tried to grab the silver pen that had fallen to the ground and you lost your grip on one of its legs. Your smile slowly faded, and Severus could tell you were panicking over letting the creature loose. 

Quickly, he reached out and did the best he could to contain the niffler, grasping it as you struggled to regain your own grip. You looked over to the gate and Severus helped you put down the niffler before it could cause you any more trouble.

“Maybe this will be easier if we worked together,” you suggested, thankful Severus was there to help avert the havoc created by a loose niffler. Picking up the pen, you walked over to the box of trinkets and tossed it in. Severus agreed to work with you when you returned and the second niffler you caught seemed to have given a lot less of a fight when you removed the items from its pouch. Soon enough, every niffler was free of trinkets and Hagrid had begun instructing you to feed them. 

As Hagrid passed around the bag of treats, Severus felt a sense of relief wash over him. He was beyond happy detention hadn’t turned out dangerous enough to put your lives in jeopardy. He stole a few glances from you as you both fed the nifflers, glad you’d managed to find a sense of peace after all that happened last night. You seemed much calmer now and perhaps that was due to the time you’d spent today comforting one another in silence. You’d always found such amenity when you both sat there without sharing a single word together much like the nifflers that had begun to curl up in their own corners after being fed, clearly exhausted from the long day they’ve had.  

Once all the nifflers seemed to have settled in, Hagrid went around handing everyone back their belongings. Looking back at the nifflers, you felt yourself relax. They looked so happy as they fell asleep one by one. Smiling, you slowly placed your hand over Severus’, his fingers curling around yours as you both simply watched the creatures ruffle lightly in their sleep. 

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep and not running all over the place,” you spoke softly, admiring the nifflers and the way they cuddled up to one another. 

“After all that, you’re going to call them cute?” He was a bit taken back by your comment, wondering if you’d actually served the same detention or if the absolute nightmare he’d just been through was one he’d made up in his head. 

“Well they are! Look at them!” You let out a small giggle as you gestured to all the nifflers, laying on the grass. 

“They’re evil.”

“Severus! They aren’t evil. Don’t be so dramatic.” You watched him roll his eyes as you lectured him. He always seemed to exaggerate situations to a comical point and though you found it humorous, you worried about him sometimes. You didn’t want him to miss out on all the positive things in life simply because he refused to let go of the negatives. 

“One of them tried to bite off my finger,” he countered, absolutely baffled with how you could possibly defend the creatures you’d both spent the last two hours battling. 

“Because you held it too tightly!”

“I did no such thing,” he said, denying your claims. Hagrid came by and handed you back your belongings which you immediately clasped back on. Your watch wasn’t anything of importance, but your necklace meant more to you than anyone could ever know. 

“I can’t believe you still wear that,” Severus said as he watched it dangle around your neck while you secure it in place. Letting it drop to your chest, you traced its outline before tucking it under your shirt. 

“You never know when you might need it,” you smiled at him, as you settled back. Severus’ eyes stayed locked on the necklace under your shirt, wondering why you felt the need to carry it around like that. The day he gave it to you, he’d done it because he knew that he’d likely use it for the wrong reason; get back at Potter, try and regain Lily’s friendship or even help Slytherin win a game of Quidditch against Gryffindor. Giving it to you was his way of using it responsibly because he knew you were calculated, he knew that when you decided to use it, it would be for a good reason. 

“We could have used it last night,” he joked, knowing it would have prevented Hagrid from finding you. Maybe you would have even gotten to enjoy something more than a few cuddles and kisses under the stars.

“I suppose we could have,” you smirked back at him. You wondered for a moment how things would have turned out if you had decided to use his liquid luck last night though you knew that ultimately, there would come a moment in both your lives when you would need it most, especially since there was a war awaiting you in the real world after you graduated. Whatever the future had in store for you and Severus, you only hoped you could face it together, because together, you would survive and together you would overcome anything that came your way. 

~

@raven-hopeflyte​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @wanderingtrails​ @darkthought15​ @bush-viper-cutie​ @fluffymadamina​ @dracos-mudblood​ @mitchiesdungeon​ @severuslovebot​

[toosicktoocare]

Still playing with this ATLA Benders College AU, and still just rolling with it. 

ATLA Benders College AU

Snippet 2: And They Were Roommates

Setting: Junior Year, Sokka and Zuko 

Find Snippet 1, Warmth Beyond a Bonfire, here! 

The bursting heat inside Zuko is diminishing as the sun begins its slow descent below the horizon, casting the sky in a swirl of orange and pink. The heat, once all encompassing, is slowly being replaced with cold fatigue, and he knows he should stop before it gets too dark, but his muscles, though tired, are prickling with a burning need, so he keeps bending, sending bursts of flames from his hands and his feet across the water.

“Zuko.”

He pretends he doesn’t hear, pushing his muscles harder, sending hotter waves of fire forward. He can feel his bones twinge, trembling under hot exertion, but he keeps going because his mind is a mess of fear, regret, and shame, and bending is the only thing he can do to quiet his inner voice, if only temporary.

“Zuko, I saw the letter with the dorm assignment.”

His lungs swell hot, and all at once, they expel icy air as he sends one, final ball of flame out toward the water, watching the reflection of harsh oranges and reds ripple atop the water. He drops to the ground with a huff, hands and feet tingling as if asleep, and he extends his bare feet forward, just close enough where the tide can brush cool water against his toes.

Iroh slowly lowers himself to the ground beside Zuko, groaning of the aches and pops of his old bones the whole way down. “The water bender’s brother.”

Zuko draws his knees up to his chest, sighing softly, and he drops his head atop one knee, his hair dropping forward to cover his face. “And Aang’s best friend.”

“Ah, yes, I do remember Sokka taking quite a swing at you after the Bender Tournament. Though, his technique was rather poor, if you ask me.”

“Uncle,” Zuko groans, squeezing his eyes shut as the memory of Sokka’s screaming and cursing whips almost painfully across his mind.

He remembers Sokka’s shaking, raised fist flying toward his jaw, and he recalls how easily he dodged it, moving on autopilot. That’s when things get a little jumbled. He can vaguely make out Aang, bruised and bloody, pulling Sokka away from him, and then he remembers his father, a looming, dark cloud of smoke billowing before him, and then, everything grows a little fuzzy around the edges, as if his mind is trying to rewrite the past from the outside in.

“Well,” Iroh starts, leaning back to take in the ocean view, “it could be worse. They could have put you with Aang.”

“Uncle!” Zuko whips a sharp gaze up to see Iroh laughing beside him, a warm sound that gets lost along the ocean breeze.

“I can’t see how this is even remotely funny.” Zuko spits out, pulling his gaze back toward the dipping sun. “I’m going to drop out.”

“Now, Zuko, there’s no need for the dramatics. I’m sure it will all work out just fine.”

Zuko drops his head back down to his knee with a groan. “You always say that, but I don’t see how that’s possible, not with what I’ve done…” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, swallowing thickly, wincing as shame tastes vile on his tongue.

“Well, dropping out is certainly not an option.”

He lifts his head. “Transfer?”

“Kindness, Zuko.”

Zuko rolls his eyes as Iroh gets to his feet and pulls Zuko up with him.

“Being nice isn’t going to fix what I’ve done to them, Uncle.” Zuko falls into step with Iroh as they start back toward the small beachside shack Iroh’s taken up as his new home.

“You think that for every problem, there’s an immediate solution, but that’s not the case. It’s not a scratch you can slap a band-aid on and call it day, Zuko. Think of it like a tea bag instead.”

Zuko slips into a chair at the small kitchen table, annoyed confusion painted across his face as Iroh pours hot water from the kettle into a teacup and places it before him.

“Think of this hot water as Sokka, who’s steaming, angry, and quick to hurt you if you get too close.”

“Okay,” Zuko draws out slowly, both brows arched as Iroh drops a tea bag into the cup.

“Now, this teabag needs to steep until all the flavors fully come out, and that takes time. In that time, the water begins to cool down until it will no longer burn if you drink it.”

“Am I the teabag in this metaphor?” Zuko teases lightly, and Iroh gives him a light smack on the back of his head.

“You can’t put a teabag in a piping hot cup of water and expect it to immediately taste good, right? It takes patience, just as it will take patience with Sokka. You shouldn’t walk into this dorm assignment expecting to apologize and put the past behind you. You’ll need to earn Sokka’s trust, and you can start by showing him kindness. You can’t erase your past, Zuko, but, for the first time in a long time, you’re the one holding the pen to your future.”

Zuko reaches out to grab the teacup in front of him, drawing his hand back with a sharp hiss when Iroh smacks it with a dish towel.

“Patience, Zuko! It’s still too hot!”

A warm smile pulls at Zuko’s lips, and he absently rubs at his hand while looking over his shoulder to Iroh. “Thanks, Uncle.”

***

Zuko’s nerves are shot, ripped to pieces, as he paces the length of the dorm’s living room, his bags neatly piled beside the couch because he wasn’t sure which of the two rooms Sokka would prefer, and he didn’t want to assume in case he assumed incorrectly. He rubs up and down his arms, feeling oddly chilled, and he moves back and forth, back and forth, the repetition being the only thing that’s keeping him grounded in the present.

He pauses beside a window, glancing out just beyond the quad. He considers leaving to find a wide, open area free of students where he can bend, wishing to chase this mounting fear with fire, but the thought, though already short, comes to an abrupt halt when he hears an all-too familiar voice growing closer and closer until it’s just outside the door.

“Be kind,” he mutters to himself. “You are a teabag, and you are kind.” He smooths his hands down his shirt, swallows thickly around the tight lump that’s made itself at home in his throat the moment Iroh pulled up to the campus hours ago, and cards his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Kind,” he reminds himself as he spins around just as the door opens, a small, hesitant smile pulling at his lips.

Sokka’s expression is unreadable. Zuko tries to dissect how the almost perfectly rounded ‘oh’ form of Sokka’s mouth fits in with the sharp furrow of his brows, the two contradicting each other and leaving him rather confused.

“Hi,” he tries, voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat. “Um, hey,” he takes a few, hesitant steps forward, “can I help you with your bags?”

Sokka remains almost frozen in place, and Zuko spares a glance down toward Sokka’s feet, briefly considering some water bender pulling a prank and icing Sokka’s feet to the floor, but the floor is dry at Sokka’s feet. “Um, Sokka,” he presses, reaching one hand out but stopping short, “are you okay?”

Sokka finally closes his mouth, and Zuko can’t help the muted sigh of relief that puffs from his lungs.

“What room is yours?”

“I haven’t picked,” Zuko starts quickly, motioning toward his own bags. “I wanted to wait and see which you preferred.”

“I want the one closest to the door,” Sokka mutters, and Zuko nods, understanding, though, he can’t help the small bite of hurt that flicks at his chest. Still, he gets it, and he wordlessly steps aside as Sokka struggles with his bags to the first room down the small hall, flinching when Sokka slams the door closed with his foot.

He waits for a few minutes, listening, unsure what to do, until he hears music blaring from inside the room. He takes that as his cue and begins moving his bags into the second room at the end of hall. The hot, prickling itch to bend through his frustration spikes up his fingers, but she shakes the pushing heat out of his hands and starts unpacking.

***

New Message From Uncle: Well, how did it go?

Zuko starts typing, stops, deletes everything, begins again, stops again, a pattern he’s struggling to free himself from. He first considers lying, but he knows Iroh will be able to read right through it, even through text. He considers the truth, but he’s not even sure what the truth is.

It’s been two hours since Sokka showed up, and he’s only heard Sokka leave his room once, for about thirty minutes, before returning. He starts typing again and almost drops his phone when Iroh’s call startles him.

“Hi, Uncle,” he says into the speaker, dropping his head back against his headboard.

“I was getting tired of watching you type and stop and type and stop.”

“Sorry,” Zuko mutters, throat suddenly dry. “How are you? Did you stop for the night already?”

“I didn’t call you to talk about me, Zuko. How’s it going with Sokka?”

“Honestly,” Zuko draws out, “I don’t really—” A knock on his door has his mouth snapping shut tightly.

“What was that?”

“Um, hey, Zuko? You in there?”

“I’ve got to go, Uncle,” Zuko spits out quickly, words tumbling off his tongue. He ends the call and stumbles off his bed, tripping over his own feet as he quickly crosses the room. He doesn’t mean to all but throw the door open, but he does, and Sokka jumps back, startled.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, swallowing around the crack in his voice. “What, um, what’s up?” He makes to lean against the doorframe, hoping his posture screams casual since his face and voice are currently betraying him.

Sokka drops his back against the wall opposite Zuko’s door, and he crosses his arms, eyes narrow, studious, and Zuko wants to shrink away from the scrutinizing gaze, wondering how come the wall he’s leaning against has yet to open up and swallow him whole.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just on the phone with my uncle,” Zuko sputters out, coughing absently into his shoulder.

“Iroh?”

Zuko doesn’t know how to take the sudden look of surprise that’s washed over Sokka’s face, yet, still, he nods as his answer, not at all surprised that many people are familiar with his family, with all sides of his family. “I stayed with him over the summer, and he dropped me off earlier today. He was checking in.” He’s not sure why he’s prattling on, but he can’t seem to stop.

“You didn’t go home for the summer?”

“I… I didn’t want to… after the tournament.” Zuko cast his eyes to the floor, his bangs masking his eyes. He wraps him arms around himself tightly, his fingers digging into his arms, and for just a moment, he’s pulled back to May, to the end of the tournament, back at his dorm where his father was shouting at his uncle, something about how much of a disappointment he was and how he could have had it all had he not thrown the tournament.

“Earth to Zuko.”

He pulls a quick gaze up to see Sokka looking at him with the faintest hint of concern. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie.” Sokka starts down the hall, and Zuko stumbles after him, pausing at the opening of the living room to see that Sokka’s taken the bare-bones room and turned it into, what feels like, a real living room, with pillows on each end of the couch, an impressive movie collection displayed on a shelf beside the TV, various pictures and posters hung up on the walls, and fairy lights draping across the ceiling.

“You did all this?” Zuko asks quietly, and Sokka grins at him, a wide grin he’s only seen reserved for Katara and Aang, and he feels a warm heat coating his cheeks.

“Unpacked, decorated, and ordered pizza.” Sokka motions to the pizza box on the coffee table. “Felt good to stretch after a long flight.” He starts toward the movies, plucking a few off the shelf. “Are you thinking classic or modern?”

“Sokka.”

“Yeah?” Sokka doesn’t look at him, and Zuko sighs quietly, arms hugging himself once more.

“Should we talk about—”

“—about how you terrorized me, my sister, and my best friend for an entire year and about how you almost killed my best friend at the Bender Tournament? Probably.”

Wincing, Zuko backs into a wall, a small shudder running through him. He watches as Sokka makes a choice and moves to some gaming console he doesn’t recognize.

“But, I don’t think we need to unpack all of that right now.” Sokka slips the disc into his PS4 and finally turns toward Zuko, frowning at Zuko’s hunched in posture, looking as if Zuko’s intentionally trying to fold into the wall at his back.

“Look, we’re both tired, and while this is definitely a conversation we need to have, I don’t think we need to have it tonight.”

Again, Zuko can’t quite pinpoint the look on Sokka’s face, and if he wasn’t so conflicted, he’d be a little annoyed that he can’t get a read on Sokka’s mood or intentions. He watches as Sokka sags against the couch with a loud sigh, briefly leaning forward to snag a slice of pizza.

“Are you going to watch the movie from back there? Because that’s a little creepy, dude.”

Zuko shuffles over to the couch, his heart and mind warring without his permission. He slides down onto the couch, a loveseat, and his knee brushes against Sokka’s. His cheeks grow warm once more when he mutters an apology, and when he catches Sokka’s eye, Sokka smiles at him, soft, warm, and a little hesitant. He mirrors the smile with flushed cheeks and calm eyes. Feeling relaxed for the first time in hours, he snags a slice of pizza and leans back against the couch as Sokka starts the movie.

[amoret-the-leaf]

Summary: Wei Wuxian is determined. After seeing his Lan Zhan yawning, yawning of all things, he makes it his mission to let his husband take a rest. Though, as with many things in life, it doesn't go according to plan. Many years had passed since the esteemed Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch had found themselves stuck in a cave on death's doorstep, confessing deeply rooted traumas to each other. Wei Ying would give everything he had and more to never let it happen again. Never. He was going to cherish Lan Wangji like he deserved, until the day he died.

Ship: Wangxian

Word Count: 5397

Author’s Note:  This story is a result of MDZS/CQL frankencanon, and may contain differences in titles and ways of addressing due to subtitle variations. This work may not be completely accurate to Ancient Chinese and Xianxia culture. If something has been written inappropriately/offensively, please let me know!

This chapter contains:

Exhaustion, Hypothermia, Delirium

"IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE!!! HUG ME LAN ZHAN!!!"

The snow was fierce, blowing in strong gusts of wind that changed directions every few seconds. Thick snowflakes sat in everyone's hair, from the lovers leading to the group, to the juniors being nearly blown away trailing behind. Clearly (or rather, unclearly- it was very hard to see), this day was not going as Wei Ying had hoped. Had it, and they might've been dancing through the white-coated streets of Caiyi, where the sky was calm now, and the sun shone to melt some of the snow. A blizzard in Yuanwei was certainly not in his planned itinerary for the day.

They'd been sent off when Zewu-Jun arrived back in the Cloud Recesses, visibly distressed with several delayed letters of aid coming from the townspeople. A blizzard of questionable origins had been raging for about two days now, judging by the dates on the papers. A collection of them had been found just outside the borders of the place. When recalling the events of the night before to the Lan Sect Leader, the worst was feared. Had the people been... were they gone?

If so, they were dealing with something, or someone, much more dangerous than they'd hoped.

So Zewu-Jun sent out his brother, accompanied by Wei Ying, and a group of their finest junior disciples to look for survivors, or bodies of the dead. Whatever was left at this point. Though, what had yet to be explained, was why Jin Ling was trotting around and rolling his eyes at Wei Ying snuggling against up his lover.

"Roll your eyes all you want! I'm cold! What are you even doing here?!" The former Jiang disciple hissed, head half-covered by Wangi's long sleeve he'd been wrapped in. "Shouldn't you be doing Sect Leader things?! If we needed a Sect Leader, Zewu-Jun would've come with us!"

"Mind your business!" The teen snapped back, crossing his arms. "I'm studying in Gusu right now! Did you forget? We literally see each other every day!" Jin Ling... in the Cloud Recesses? That would explain why a wild Jin would be wearing white. But it wasn't exactly ringing a bell. "Why didn't you dress warmer anyways? You knew where we were going!"

"I am dressed warm! I have my warmest clothes on mind you! But it's still cold!"

"Then you're a baby."

"A-Ling... Maybe fighting with Senior Wei isn't worth it?" Sizhui intervened, giving the softest nervous smile he could. "All of us are still cold, the temperatures are below what most of us are used to. We should try to get this done as soon as possible."

So it was A-Ling now? Interesting... He and Sizhui would be having a talk when they got home. Wangji seemed to pick up on this too, sharing a look with the other before nodding.

"Well said Sizhui!" Wei Ying exclaimed, pacing around the group. "What a polite disciple! You should try to be more like him! Your uncle has corrupted your brain to be so aggressive! It's scary!" He jumped back to his lover in exaggerated fear when Jin Ling practically growled at him as a response.

"Can we get going now? Some of us would like to keep all our fingers and toes by the end of this." Jingyi complained, sarcasm being second nature to him. It was almost impressive. "It's cold, and this place is almost buried. I don't wanna be buried with it."

Normally, the Second Jade would at least point out the rude behavior. But the boy was right. People's lives could be on the line. So he took off his outermost layer of winter robes, gently placing the clothing around Wei Ying's shoulders. His husband's golden core was still weak in comparison to what it used to be, Wangji could manage in the cold if it meant swaddling the other. White was not his color, but seeing Wei Ying with embellished clouds covering his typical black and red combination reminded him of their student days back in Gusu. Back when they were carefree teenagers.

They had to move now.

So they walked. Trudging through knee-deep snow as wind whipped their faces, snow blurring their vision, and hoping they were still headed towards the right direction. Wei Ying tried to protest giving the extra layer back, but would only be met with, "You need it more." At least, it was something along those lines. Perhaps it changed, Wei Ying didn't focus on it too much. All he wanted was for his beloved to be taking a break.

They hadn't slept in. There was no time for naps or any trips out to Caiyi. No buying loquats in the marketplace or relaxing by the cold pond (too cold to go in!) or catching up over a meal with the kids. It scared him. Wangji looked exhausted; scary to think about, scarier to see.

Is this what it felt like? Being worried for your one true love? Did Lan Zhan go through this all the time? Standing there, watching, knowing he's too stubborn to ask for help or properly take a rest? They were more alike than Wei Ying would like to admit... and that was... Miraculous. Even through his worry, Wei Ying couldn't help but be enamored by the graceful beauty Wangji had. Intoxicating in the best way.

Thick, frosty flakes sat in his hair, looking so natural. So pristine, so tranquil. "Lan Zhan! How dare you look like a regal, captivating snow prince while the rest of us look like drowned rats!" The Yiling Patriarch whined. He wasn't wrong, damp, half-frozen hair clung together wildly in almost everyone's face. Yet Lan Wangji was immune, so to speak, still looking as handsome as ever. Even tired, he was radiant.

"Mn. Not true." The Second Jade replied.

Ah, an opportunity. "Oh? Is that so?" Wei Ying smirked, bringing his palms to rest cutely onto his frigid, rosy cheeks. "So there's an exception then? Someone who gets to be labelled as breathtaking as Hanguang-Jun? I envy them~"

"Sizhui."

Eh!? "LAN ZHAN!!!" Wei Ying cried, throwing his arms back down in a fuss. He could already hear the muffled snickers coming from the juniors still following behind. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ME!!!"

"Lying is forbidden."

"WHAT!?!? LAN WANGJI!!!"

Oh how they laughed. The lot of teens quite honestly couldn't contain it anymore. Senior Wei had just been delivered a critical blow- that was hilariously overdue. Anyone could hear the moment Jin Ling dropped to the ground with a loud thump, sinking into the fresh powder as hysterical laughter spread throughout the group. Jingyi was barely hunched over on his knees, trying his very best to stay upright in the frenzy, huffing loudly every few seconds to get more air. The ever-mannered Sizhui only meekly turned away, giggling in a sort of shame.

But Hanguang-Jun took a hand to his husband's face. "Wei Ying is too bright. Too warming. He cannot be a snow prince. Has to be the sun. "

The Yiling Patriarch smiled brightly, spitting out a "take that!" to the group. "Is it because I make you melt, Ji-xiong?" He asked, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Still laying in the snow, Jin Ling covered his eyes. "Ew. I did not want to see that. Please never do that again."

Hanguang-Jun didn't seem outwardly amused, but Wei Ying could tell he was snickering at the remark (on the inside!). That is, until the Second Master Lan stepped forward once more. "No time for this. Advance."

With that, the disciples scurried back and followed. Even his husband seemed to get the message that his teasing time was regretfully over. Maybe Lan Zhan WASN'T laughing on the inside? Actually, he seemed so tense all of a sudden. Stiff as a board. When they'd arrived, he was his usual smittenly sweet self. Now it was like he was in a cultivation conference listening to the nonsense being spit by anyone who craved a sliver of attention. But he had seen him amused by it! So what just happened?

Sizhui, covertly speeding up behind Wei Ying, tugged on his sleeve. If he hadn't been half-expecting the kid to notice, he might've flinched. But A-Yuan was attentive. The subtle frown on the teen's face, the way his eyebrows lowered, and his lip sunk just a bit- Sizhui was worried too. And maybe, just maybe, Wei Ying was close enough to now be able to decipher his kid too.

Before either of them could try to get to the bottom of this, a quiet thunk was heard. Thunking wasn't the typical crunch of the snow now was it? Heads turned to Lan Jingyi, the origin of the sound. At the disciple's feet, something was peeking out. The group gathered around the unidentified object like ducklings, before digging into the fresh powder.

"It's... It's some kind of box?" Someone announced. Three of them lifted it up, but whatever was inside was buried at this point. Tipping it over, parcels containing cloths and pendants fell out. Many of them held the same, if not similar design to the tapestry previously hung in the Jingshi, and the symbol on their map.

"Well!" Wei Ying bent down, grabbing one of the pendants and sweeping snow off its print. "At least we know we're getting close!" He perked up, "And this wasn't buried deep. Someone was carrying this recently. Maybe even a few hours ago. Could've been a merchant, could've been a shopkeeper desperate to preserve their valuables. But it was abandoned here within the last 24 hours, so there's at least one person nearby."

Wangji nodded. But he kept the grim look on his face. It was always a possibility, but no one was happy when he added, "Check for bodies."

They dug around. No bodies. That was a relief. Whoever was out here, well, hopefully this meant shelter was somewhere, and still intact. Townspeople didn't have golden cores, they wouldn't make it long in this.

So they kept going. Wei Ying kept his eyes on Lan Wangji, and through his peripheral vision, watched as Sizhui and now Jingyi seemed to fret at the sight of their beloved Hanguang-Jun. If Jin Ling had any suspicions, he was doing so from afar, trailing behind with the very end of the group.

What was especially concerning, was that Lan Zhan didn't notice them. Really, Lan Wangji wasn't noticing their not-so discreet eyes piercing into him. He just kept walking.

But a hut, a hut on the hill, would draw attention away from that. A hut on a hill with a fire nonetheless, as smoke came out of the side of the place. The teens cheered, scurrying up closer, but never going past their Second Jade, who kept his simple pace. Luckily he seemed relaxed at the sight. Thank goodness, it was unbearable to see that side of him! Oh Wei Ying was definitely having a conversation with his lover about this later.

Wangji lightly knocked on the door. The loud screech of the bitter wind nearly drowned the voices inside the cabin out. But the door swung open. A woman put a hand to her chest, sighing with relief. "The cultivators have arrived!" She cried out. "Oh you're here, we're saved! We're saved!"

She pushed the door out wider. Groups of people could be seen sitting on the floor, the younger of which appearing to be swaddled in thin, scarce blankets. There was enough people crowded in this tiny house to... To fill a village! Oh!

All of them huddled around a tiny bundle of wood lit aflame in the middle of the floor. Just barely, it seemed, as it was more of a flicker than a flame. The Juniors were already taking care of that, a fire talisman sweeping through the air to get a brighter flame on the already charred wood. "Jingyi, Jin Ling, gather some wood." Lan Wangji instructed. "Sizhui, keep feeding the flame as best as you can."

The three nodded, immediately doing as they were told. Sizhui shielded the fire when the other two had opened the door. Still, the fire wavered, hanging on by what could best be compared to a loose thread. "Miss, what happened?" Wangji asked, in as few, few words as possible. At least that was normal.

"Hanguang-Jun," She started, slowly. "Hanguang-Jun, a few days ago, one of our youngest here, A-Bao, had wandered off. When he came back into town, he said he'd met a little girl." The woman's breath hitched, eyes welling up with tears. "H-He said this girl was friendly, and she wanted to play with him. A-Bao talked to her and... and he mentioned he liked snow. So the little girl promised she'd make it snow for him the next day."

It sounded like a fairytale, almost. "We thought... we thought it was a joke. But the snow came the next day. At the time, it was a coincidence to us. It's winter, we don't usually get a lot of it but it's not uncommon. But the snow never stopped!" She cried out, causing a few gathered by the fire to groan, or cover their ears. "It never stopped! We tried sending requests for aid. But every time we sent someone out, they came back, halfway to death's doorstep! No one could bear the journey! The last person to go out never came back! Sang Meng, our most talented in cultivation! A-Bao is his brother... So he went to fix his mess! Oh please, please!" The woman was kneeling now, gripping her dress, tightly. "Please help us, Hanguang-Jun! The boy might've died! We can't last like this!"

A spirit, most definitely. No curse could do this, and last he'd checked, Wei Ying wasn't aware of any large scale weather changing talismans. However, it would be unlikely this spirit would attempt to freeze over the town, and send a signal while its people were still alive. If it was out to kill, no warnings would be given. Therefore, it was not the spirit to have burnt the tapestry last night. Wei Ying's eyes glimmered with a realization. "Has Sang Meng ever created any original talismans?"

The woman nodded, vigorously. "He's been working on an altered fire talisman last I'd heard. Why?"

"He's alive, or, was. Last night. He could still be out there."

Everyone gasped. Some pulled each other close, some remaining more distant. The juniors were surprised, especially. But hope, hope was in the eyes of the townspeople. It was an all too familiar feeling. Wangji nodded, catching onto what his husband had eluded to. "Incident in the Cloud Recesses." He confirmed, though giving no other details. "Sang Meng could be alive. Most likely with the spirit now. I need to go."

...I? When had there ever been an I with them? The one person Wei Ying did not want of this house, and he was volunteering. "Lan Zhan-" He tried, but honestly, it was no use. He also, in good conscience, did not want to send the kids out in this, possibly to retrieve a body. Besides, his husband was already halfway to the door. "Lan Zhan!!! I'm coming with you! Wait for Xian-gege!"

"Wei Ying will stay here."

"Wei Ying absolutely will not. Silly Lan-er-ge."

They were both impossible to sway from these kinds of things. Righteousness was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. The Second Master Lan sighed, taking his beloved's hand. "Wei Ying is cold. The juniors are cold. They will stay here and help keep warm." He insisted,

Wei Ying huffed. Were they fighting? Was this a fight? No, Wangji was looking at him with those sweet big eyes of his. Guilt trap. It was a guilt trap, do not fall for it. They weren't fighting, Lan Zhan was worried. The other hated that. "Lan Zhan is cold too, he just won't admit it. This Yiling Patriarch is coming with you, and you cannot stop him!" With that, he continued for the door.

Wei Ying was set on this. These kids were absolutely not going to fight whatever was able to plague this whole place with a blizzard. It was definitely not the best idea to bring them, now that they had an idea of what was going on. But they could still help these people, hopefully not freezing in the meantime. "Oh, and A-Yuan, you're in charge. None of you are allowed to come with us, just make yourselves useful here. We're gonna go get the bad thing now! Don'tdoanythingstupidokaybyebye!" He beamed, ignoring the near horrified face of their son, and stepping out into the snow. His soulmate was already ten paces ahead.

Lan Wangji, just what was he not telling his A-Ying?

-

The woman, who Lan Sizhui now knew as Feng Jixiao, turned to face him. "So, are they always like this?"

A-Yuan laughed, timidly. There was only one word that came to mind to answer that, his beloved Hanguang-Jun's favorite phrase in the world. "Mn." He answered, closing his eyes. The disciple couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong, and that he was missing something very important here. But what...

-

Wei Ying panted, holding himself up on his knees. "Lan... Zhan... not so fast." He mumbled, getting no response. Or rather, if he did get one, he couldn't hear. The wind had grown louder since they'd gone inside. But it was just the two of them out here now, and Wei Wuxian was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with his husband. In this case, it had to come first. Spirit, rescue, whatever they were doing, his soulmate came first- and Wei Ying did not have a good feeling about this. No, not at all. Was Lan Zhan swaying?

They'd been walking for about an hour. Honestly, they probably strayed far away from their original direction long ago. Luckily, the two had a teleportation talisman to use if they started to freeze. Over an hour now, and still no sign of a boy. No taunting whispers of a spirit either. If they couldn't find this spirit, they would have to call for additional aid from the clan and evacuate the townspeople. The only reason they hadn't, well, those without a core had a slim chance of surviving long enough to get to safety. Yuanwei would bury itself, something that Wangji understood, and absolutely would not accep- Was Lan Zhan swaying?

No, Wei Ying couldn't give in to paranoia. The winds were strong, and his vision was blurred with snowflakes that would fall from his eyelashes as he blinked. He definitely was not seeing his husband sway as he walked. He wasn't noticing the way that his soulmate clenched his hands, stretching them in and out. What was it? Had he found A-Bao's brother? Was the sight too terrible to see? Wei Ying took his eyes off Hanguang-Jun for a moment, a fraction in time, to try and organize these frenzied thoughts of his...

Thud.

If a thousand snowflakes had fallen last evening, then the Heavens should be happy with what they'd brought down. The will of no deity or divine being ever deserved to take Hanguang-Jun down with it. But he was falling. By sheer adrenaline, Wei Wuixian was moving. As fast as any rules would forbid, he was moving. Across the sea of dusty white, he was going. But today, Wei Ying couldn't move fast enough. The Second Jade hit the ground, any and all color drained from his face. Lan Wangji was on the ground... a ground that began crackling and crunching underneath him. Snow didn't crackle like that. The Earth did not crackle.

They were walking on a lake. A fucking frozen lake for who knows how long. A frozen body of water they somehow had defied fate on until now. But now his soulmate was unconscious. He looked like he had DIED. How far out were they?! The ice was buried under the snow, Wei Ying couldn't tell! He couldn't see- FUCK!

"LAN ZHAN!"

An earth-shattering scream rang out, and god did he run. Wangji dipped below the surface and he ran. Wei Ying didn't even feel as though he was running. No, he was flying, as fast as humanly possible. The ice cracked beneath his feet as he ran, but he would not falter nor slip. The Yiling Patriarch did not stop as he dove just his hands into the freezing water. Thousands of needles shot through his every nerve, barely registering the white cloth he'd gotten ahold of. But once he saw it, he didn't hesitate. Wei Ying pulled. 'Please don't just be the headband,' he thought, desperately. He pulled and pulled with all the strength he'd worked to regain. Come on... come on! Lan Zhan!

Wei Ying fell back with a limp body in his arms. The former Jiang disciple didn't have time to even check if he was still breathing. They had to- he had to keep running! This ice absolutely not going to hold much longer. The teleportation talisman wouldn't be fast enough! He'd fucking play a life and death game of hopscotch across glaciers if he had to. Lan Wangji just fainted on him. He should've stopped him from coming. He should've said something sooner! This was all his fault!

Bichen. Wangji still had Bichen with him. Wei Ying was too weak to ride a sword, he didn't bring Suibian. But goddammit he was gonna ride this sword. WITH Lan Wangji. Unconcious. There were no other options. Bichen already had let him wield them once, a long time ago, so Wei Ying was eternally grateful when he was able to unsheathe the sword again. He threw it straight out, shaking hands gathering up the Second Jade, and hopping on.

Of course, he'd nearly fallen off right then and there. Bichen had taken a sharp swerve left to keep them on. Wei Ying adjusted his footing, and they were going at breakneck speed, on a dizzying, unclear path. He was on a moving tightrope, and could only hope when they eventually got to the ground, it was real ground. Solid, snow-covered ground. The wind hurt as they flew, but any pain in his hands was completely blocked out by frostbitten numbness and sheer determination.

They weren't high. He didn't feel like breaking any bones if they DID get lucky enough to not die from this. Wei Ying could only swing helplessly back and forth, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Eventually, he'd more or less gone dry of spiritual energy and lost his momentum, and they tumbled off the sword, which came to a halt. Wei Ying wasn't sure if he closed his eyes, or they'd done that by himself. He really didn't want to watch himself die again.

There wasn't any cracking. So, one eye peeked back open. Trembling, he slammed down on the ground with his arm. Not slippery. Hard. No cracking sounds. No breaking. Lan Wangji was in his arms. Panicked relief swept over him as though he'd never experienced before. He could cry, hell, he was already close. But it was too cold. Icicles hanging off his face wouldn't help. "Lan Zhan." He whispered pushing his body over to his husband, turning the Lan on his back. His voice was raspy, and god was he tired. "Lan Zhan." He shook. "A-Zhan. Wake up."

He didn't. Wei Ying hunched over him, breathing hard. He took his finger's to the other's wrist, hesitantly. He really, really couldn't feel, though. The Yiling Patriarch's hands were ghostly white. Was Lan Zhan breathing? He thinks so? Fuck it, he'd do it anyway. Wei Ying used his entire body to press into the other's chest. Deep, strong rounds of pushing, with the scarce bits of spiritual energy he had left being infused into his husband.

Before he could do any mouth to mouth (much to his dismay), a pained groan escaped the Second Jade's throat. Wei Ying quickly moved back, gasping. "Lan Zhan?" He asked, lacing his fingers into his soulmate's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to smack him too, but mostly kiss him. Instead, Wangji just turned over, harshly coughing. A small trail of water he'd breathed in fell onto the ground.

Glazed-over eyes stared back at him. The typical strong, striking gaze of the Lan's golden eyes looked more like they were dripping in honey. Wangji blinked, looking confused. "Wei Ying?" He asked, quietly. Wei Ying only nodded, bringing his unfeeling hand to Lan Zhan's face. Wangji looked as though he wanted to say more, but was simply too out of it. It didn't take much thinking to know that he was ice cold, colder than he was, even if Wei Ying couldn't feel it. They had to find shelter.

There was a tree nearby. Wei Ying trudged over with his own tired and bitterly freezing body and snapped off a thick, long branch. Leaning most of his weight onto his new walking stick, he swung Wangji's arm over his shoulders. "Lan Zhan, I'm going to carry you on my back, okay?" He spoke. Switching which hand he held his stick, he got the Second Jade's other arm around his neck. "Hang on for me, please."

Wei Ying had never said a genuine please in his life.

Wangji gave him no answer. Luckily, he seemed to comply, trying to hold his feet up, just a few centimeters off the ground, so they didn't drag. It was enough. Ideally, Wei Ying would be able to hold his legs, or just cradle the other bridal style in his arms once again. But this was not ideal, and he was exhausted. Wei Ying wasn't sure he'd stay upright without leaning against the stick. That, and he refused to stand on the ice again. If they were getting close, the stick would be the one being plunged into the frozen lake. Never would anyone think the Yiling Patriarch would be hunched over, stabbing the Earth with a walking stick with a frozen Hanguang-Jun on his back all those years ago. Yet here they were.

There was nothing to see but white. If only Wei Ying had more spiritual energy. The teleportation talisman they'd brought was just about useless now. Neither of them would have enough to use it- Lan Zhan's was far too important in keeping him alive. No signals would work in the blizzard either. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision for them to come alone. Then again, if all those kids had fallen into the ice... Wei Wuxian would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive himself for this.

...Wangji had closed his eyes again, head buried into Wei Ying's back as they walked. Was it a relief? Or was he- no, Wei Ying couldn't think about that. He was fine, for now. He WOULD be fine. When this was all over, fuck it, they were going on a break. A year-long break far away from any of this. No night hunting, no cultivation world. The Sects would just have to learn how to live without him and Lan Zhan solving all their problems. The world owed them it's kindness.

Heh, if he wasn't so blind, maybe things would be different. Maybe he could've married Lan Zhan all those years ago. Maybe the Burial Mounds could be the Yiling Wei Sect by now. Maybe Wen Qing and Granny Wen and Uncle Four would be sitting around a table as they feast. Or maybe they'd all be in the Cloud Recesses. Wen Ning would be perfect for this job, considering he's dead. He wanted to call him, in a desperate attempt, but Wei Ying knew he was in Lanling right now.

Maybe if he'd gotten Jiang Cheng out of that damn Wen prison earlier... They'd both have their cores. Maybe he wouldn't have walked his single-plank bridge. He could be sitting in Lotus Pier right now, and Shijie...

A cave. A cave?

He was hallucinating. That definitely wasn't the entrance to a cave. Oh, but it was too good to pass up. For Lan Zhan's sake, he'd have to hope it was real. Slowly sweeping through the mountains of white wet shit, Wei Ying put a hand to the outside rock wall of the hallucinated cave. Solid. Solid? It was real.

The inside was dark, damp, and depressing. Not the first cave they'd be stuck in, unfortunately. This one at least looked a little different, ice hanging from the ceiling in certain spots. But the cave- it was also deep. Deep enough to hide away from the whirring wind outside, and finally sit down with the Second Jade. He didn't waste a moment to pat his hand on the other's cheek, even if his own bones screamed at him. "Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, you can't sleep anymore." Wei Ying spoke, soft, and hurriedly. "Lan Zhan. Open your eyes."

Those golden, honey glow eyes fluttered once more. "Wei Ying." Lan Wangji repeated, as if picking up where he'd left off before. Just by the way his head rested off the cave wall, Wei Ying could tell he was dizzy. "What-"

"I'd like to ask you the same question, Mister 'I'm fine I don't need a break' and 'let's faint on my husband'." The other bit, not exactly meaning to be harsh about it. Still, it probably came off that way. "You. You fainted. What the hell have you been doing? Why won't you talk to me?" Stop. He wasn't angry. Why was he saying these things?

'I'm sorry.' Wei Ying thought, his breath hitching. 'I'm so sorry for not doing something sooner. I let you fall.'

"I..." Wangji really, REALLY looked tired. But Wei Ying couldn't let him sleep. No, not until he warmed up, even just a little. Otherwise, he might never wake up again. "I can't tell... Wei Ying. I can't tell him." The Second Master suddenly shot upright, grasping at Wei Ying's clothes. "You won't tell him, will you? Please don't tell him."

Oh, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. Deliria? "...I won't tell him." Wei Ying answered back, sadly. He shuffled on the floor. That walking stick was about to come in hand. "I won't tell him anything... but we need to get you warmed up." Snapping the stick into three... four smaller sticks, he sprinkled them on a dry spot. Luckily, there was another tree right outside the cave entrance. So Wei Ying had taken Bichen once again, the sword being much heavier this time and chopped up bundles of logs. He came back to the same, mumbling Lan Zhan seated in the exact same place.

He had a fire talisman. Not that he couldn't start one on his own, but this was way easier. Plus, he didn't need spiritual energy for this one. A bit of his tinkering had come to the rescue. Fire talismans were one of the easiest to alter, he'd found. But if that kid had sent a strategic fire all the way to the Cloud Recesses, well, he was a bit of a genius. His rescue would have to wait, though.

The fire caught, blazingly. Sticking his hands over it made them feel as though they were melting back to some degree of normal. "Lan Zhan, I'm gonna move you closer to the fire, okay?"

He didn't get a verbal response. But he did get a pout, and puffed out cheeks. That couldn't help but make him laugh. "Ah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," He spoke, carrying his lover and plopping him on the ground, for him to then lean against Wei Ying's body. "Is Lan Zhan five? No, that can't be it. How about three?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

What didn't Wangji want to tell him? He couldn't be sure. All he could do was gather them up and throw them into the fire. Dissipate, burn and disintegrate and fly away. Make like a bird and fly away.

Hanguang-Jun was down. They had no idea where the spirit was. The Juniors and all the townspeople were waiting for them. Sang Meng's survival was looking less and less likely by the minute.

Lan Zhan was down.

"Shijie," He looks up, frowning, "Xianxian doesn't know what to do now."