#I still can't believe I finished this book on five hours of sleep

[my-moony-and-padfoot]

Precious

This is a part two of whoever you want to be so if you haven't read that, I'd suggest you do, though it doesn't really matter because you can technically read this alone too

Word count: 1 500

“What if I'm in the wrong?” He asked, curling more to Remus' side. The morning sun was shining through the gap in the curtains, urging them to get up and start their day after already laying there awake for hours, but neither of them wanted to. It was much nicer to stay curled up with each other underneath the sheets, warm and cosy, neither wanting to break the bubble and get up.

“What about?”

“Y'know…” He whispered, starting to play with a loose strand he'd found from Remus' shirt, twisting it around his fingers as he tried to gather his thoughts. “About the way I feel… y'know, about me? What if I'm in the wrong.” As he continued his voice got quieter, barely above a whisper when he finished, anxiously waiting for Remus to answer.

“What if you're not?” He asked back, running his hand through the curls, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Sirius shrugged, closing his eyes against the sunlight that had slowly shifted to warm up his face. “For what it's worth, I don't think you are.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, it's you.” He said simply, trying to find the words to properly say what he wanted to. “I'm not sure, and I can't be because it's not something I've experienced. But, I believe you when you tell me it's something you feel, and I just find it difficult to believe it's wrong. How could it be?”

Sirius shrugged, being quiet for a moment before he spoke again, voice quieter than before. “I don't know how to feel.”

“That's okay, love.” He whispered, smiling as Sirius turned to look at him, chin resting on his chest. “You don't have to know. Takes time to figure out, yeah? And, it's okay if you don't figure it out. I'll still be here, always with you.”

“I love you, Rem.”

“I love you too.” He whispered, kissing his forehead before running his hand through Sirius' hair. “We should get up.”

“No.” He groaned, hiding his face into Remus' chest, shaking his head. “M’not getting up. We've got nowhere to be.”

“Mm, but we can't lay in bed all day.”

“M’still sleeping.” he mumbled, clinging on tighter as Remus tried to get up from below him. “No. You're my pillow you can't leave.”

“C’mon up. I'll bring you breakfast in bed if you let me up.” Sirius shook his head.

“Don't you love me?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face, turning back to look at him. “If you loved me, Rem, like truly loved me, you'd cuddle with me.”

“You’re so stupid.” He laughed, but Sirius just smiled, hiding his face back into Remus’ chest, who wrapped his arms around him better. “Alright, five more minutes, but then I'm getting up. I need coffee.”

��

“What if I feel like nothing?” Sirius asked, biting his lip as he looked at Remus, who was sitting on the other end of the sofa, reading. He looked up from his book, smiling at him softly as he closed it, setting it down onto the coffee table.

“What do you mean?” He asked, reaching for Sirius' hand, shuffling to sit closer to him.

“That- like… What if I feel like nothing? Y'know, boy or-” He looked away for a moment, then back up at Remus as if to study his reaction to his next words. “What if I feel like neither, but like maybe something more eh- neutral.”

“That's okay.” He smiled. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“I dunno.”

“What would that something more neutral be?” He asked as Sirius leaned against his shoulder. “Do you have any preferences to maybe pet names or pronouns or your name? Anything really, and if you don't know, it's okay. But if you do, and you wanna tell me, I want to know.”

“I don't really care what you call me. It all feels good. And um, I don't know. It all feels somehow like me- but like only sometimes. Only on some days” They whispered. “Today's just- more neutral.”

“Okay, baby.” He smiled into their hair. “What if I happened to be talking about you to someone else, What would you want me to call you? My boyfriend, partner, something else maybe?”

“I don't want anyone to know.”

“Okay. I'm proud of you for telling me though, so proud, love.” Sirius smiled, lifting their head to look at Remus, who smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind their ear. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” They whispered, leaning in to give Remus a kiss. “I'm still scared.”

“It's okay to be scared, love.” He said, and Sirius nodded, looking away. “It's new, and different and that's scary, but it's okay. I'm here, baby.”

“ ‘m glad you are.” Sirius whispered, leaning against Remus, who wrapped his arms around them, holding them tightly.

…

“Moony?” They asked, coming into the living room, Remus hummed, looking up at them with a small smile. “Could you, um. Can you paint my nails? I tried, but- I'm shit at this.”

Remus laughed quietly, patting the place next to him on the sofa. “I won't make any promises that I'm any better, but I can certainly try.” He smiled as Sirius sat down next to him, handing him the bottle of nail polish, black with some glitter in it. “Give me your hand, love.”

Sirius did, watching as Remus took their hand into his, holding it so he could more easily paint their nails. They watched as he slowly started to apply the nail polish, being really careful, and trying his best to not mess it up. “Did you get this today?” He asked, glancing up at Sirius as they nodded. “I love the glitter, looks great, baby.”

Sirius blushed slightly, smiling as they looked down to their lap for a moment, then looked back at Remus. “Do you actually like it?” They asked quietly, more nervousness seeping into his tone than before. “It's not- um too much?”

“It’s not, you've worn nail polish before, what's this about?” Sirius shrugged, giving him their other hand when Remus tapped it so they would give it to him, they smiled as Remus started to apply the nail polish onto his other hand. “Do you like it?”

“Do,” Sirius whispered, smiling as he glanced up at them. “I thought it was pretty.”

“You're pretty.” They blushed, looking away for a moment, then watched as Remus closed the bottle of nail polish, leaning to give them a kiss. “The prettiest of them all.” He whispered against Sirius' lips, giving them another kiss. They leaned against Remus after a moment, who just wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” Sirius whispered. “Rem?” He hummed, taking their hand into his now that the nail polish had dried. “I saw something in the shops today. I really wanted to buy it, but um-” They trailed off then, sounding nervous as they leaned more against Remus.

“What's so expensive that you can't buy it.” Sirius shook their head with a little laugh, Remus smiled, glad he could at least get a smile out of them, even if it was a small one. “What is it then, hmm? Why didn't you get it?” Sirius mumbled something, but he couldn't catch what it was, but they did blush further, hiding their face into Remus’ neck. “Didn't catch that, darling. Can you speak up?”

“It… it was a skirt.” They whispered quietly, voice suddenly wavering with unshed tears. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, no. Shh, love don't apologise, it's okay.” Sirius didn't answer, but felt Remus wipe away tears and kiss their head. “For the record, I think you'd look absolutely beautiful in any skirt.”

“They're for girls.” Sirius mumbled, shaking their head as more tears fell down.

“They're not. Sirius, baby, it's just a piece of clothing, anyone can wear them.” They nodded slightly, though they didn't seem entirely convinced yet. “A little bit of fabric won't define who you are, you can wear whatever you want and what makes you comfortable.”

“But other people.”

“Since when have you cared about what other people think? Hmm, love?” They shrugged. “Don’t care about them. You can do whatever you want. You can wear whatever you want, I promise nobody will care.” Sirius nodded. “And if somebody does or says something nasty to you, they're just not worth keeping around, are they?”

“No,” They whispered hesitantly, though smiled slightly as they sat up to look at Remus who smiled, wiping away the tears and leaning to kiss their forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.” He smiled, giving them another kiss before Sirius could lean back against him. “Tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“The skirt, silly.”

“Oh- um. Well…” They laughed nervously, blushing as he started to explain what the skirt had looked like. Remus just smiled as he listened to his boyfriend talk about something so excitedly, he hadn't heard that in a while. It just made him happy.

“That sounds so pretty, baby.” Remus whispered into their hair. “I really need to see you in a skirt now, there's no escaping this anymore now that you've told me.”

“You really think it would look good?”

“Of course,” He smiled as Sirius turned to look at him. “You look good in anything you wear.” They smiled brightly, leaning in to give Remus a kiss, leaning their forehead against his. “You're so precious.”

A/N:

Hellooo

This is the very unbirthday themed birthday fic because it's Harry's birthday (also mine lol). Hopefully you liked it, even though it's a bit short and not my best writing but, anyway.

This is literally all I've gotten written in the past month so don't hate on me too much, I tried my best

Anyhow, have a nice rest of your day/night/morning/something idk. Remember to take care of yourself <3 See you around maybe, hopefully :)

<33

[eunoiathewriter]

✧.* 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

X. THORPE X F!READER

Sypnosis: She pays a little visit to him, and it turns out she can actually be in love, she just does not have a heart that can tell her it.

Word Count: 1.7k

They had been quiet for the past few minutes, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another. The floor was cold; even just the small bed would be more comfortable, but they had been sitting on the stone floor for about five minutes and had gotten comfortable. He had asked for them to just not talk, and she had given him that without any problem.

y/n could get in major trouble for being there, and they both knew that. No one is supposed to be in the cell of an accused murderer, but no one was going to know of her little visit. The guard might have gotten something to help him get into a very deep slumber where no sound would wake him. No, he was not dead. The guard was, actually, just in a very deep slumber.

It was all thanks to Mrs. Thornhill teaching their class about that little seed that could put anyone into a deep, ten-hour sleep. Luckily enough for y/n she had been listening to that lesson, and the information proved useful. The only tricky part had been getting the seed into the officers' drink.

It was very late. Curfew had long since passed at Nevermore, but y/n sat on the cell floor, one of his hands in hers, while the other traced a nameless shape onto the back of his hand. This was what he had requested while sitting in silence.

Xavier opened his eyes after having them closed for a while, looking at the chains that had been around his hands and then the collar thing around his neck. He was thankful for the girl beside him, as she had been able to get her hands on the key to them, and for the time she was going to spend with him, he did not have to feel restrained.

Glancing over at y/n, he could see she was just staring off into space while her hand absentmindedly drew the nameless shapes on his hand. Why she believed him and not her new friend, Wednesday, was beyond him. But when she had just about half an hour earlier appeared in his cell, pointing out how awfully lonely it must be, he felt his whole being warm up.

That was the effect she often had on him, but she was also an intriguing character in Nevermore. y/n didn't really mix with or join any of the cliques in school. At first, he had just observed her from a distance, watching as she would sit by herself and do schoolwork or just read a book.

The first time they ever really interacted was when they were about fifteen. Xavier was in the Nightshades' little secret place when all of a sudden, a confused "What the fuck?" was uttered. When he turned, there she stood, her face puzzled as she turned to look around.

The memory of y/n being so shocked at the secret space that she had involuntarily become invisible and had made him confused as to where she was always brought a smile to his face. But, looking back, what was even funnier was how she mistook him for rude and acting as if he didn't know where she was, because she had no idea she was completely invisible to him.

Even now, in his miserable place in the world, accused of being a monster who had killed people, the memory still made him smile slightly while watching y/n just staring off into space.

"By the way, you know the love of your life is Bianca—" Before y/n could even finish that sentence, Xavier leaned his head back with a groan of annoyance, causing the girl to snort at him.

"Don't call her that." He rolled his head over to face her, and she only shrugged.

"I didn't call her that; that's what your fifteen-year-old self called her." She teased him because she couldn't stop making fun of him for it.

"I'm never escaping that one, am I?" 

"We'll see. Maybe you will, maybe you won't."

Xavier shook his head at y/n, now actually feeling like talking once they had started. "I can't really call that love now, can I?"

"Why not all of a sudden?" 

"When you love someone, it's supposed to feel a certain way, and I don't think a fifteen-year-old really knows how that feels, you know?"

"No," y/n said, shaking her head. "I don't know."

Xavier sat up a bit straighter and turned his head towards her, tilting it quizzically at her, not understanding what she meant by that. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no as in I don't know that feeling you're talking about; I've never felt it and probably never will." Confusing this with the fact that she was telling him she had never been in love and probably never would be, he felt he needed to tell her she would someday feel it.

"You will, someday." But he was only met with a laugh from y/n as she looked at him with a bit of shock. Did he truly not know what she had meant? 

"No I won't. You seriously don't know?" y/n asked with raised brows while waiting for an answer, and all she got was silence. 

It was not something she just said out loud, but her family had a history at Nevermore. Nobody knew how or why, but it felt like a family curse—at least that's how she perceived it. The lack of a heart that could determine what she was feeling towards someone was something she wanted badly. On her own, she could of course tell if she felt happiness, sadness, or anger, for example, but the one emotion she had a hard time with was love. Lacking a heart that could beat a little faster, flutter, or skip a beat when she liked someone made love hard.

It was all based on what she thought of a person. Most of her friends knew that she cared for them deeply. However, the line between when friendship became romantic feeling was so hazy that that territory remained unexplored.

"You know how everyone says their heart stops or flutters when they're near someone they like?" Yeah, Xavier knew that, as if his heart had not skipped a beat earlier when she suddenly appeared. "I won't feel that because my heart is quite literally dead."

"That's not possible." Xaviers' eyes were narrowed with suspicion, but y/n only held out her wrist for him.

"We got to a school with vampires, sirens, and werewolves, yet you say that not having a heart is impossible. Try me." 

Hesitantly, Xavier grabbed her wrist, brows still knitted together in confusion as he felt for a pulse. The gentle way he was holding her wrist made a tingling sensation go up y/n's spine. At first he seemed to think it was just her trying to find her pulse, but when he felt for his own and found it easily, then felt the same place on y/n wrist, it started to dawn on him.

"Makes it a little difficult to know if you love someone," y/n said, turning back to look into space, her wrist still gently held by Xavier. That tingling sensation was still there when he held her wrist. "I don't even know if I'm in love now."

"How do you figure that out?" He was genuinely intrigued, but it was also a way to keep her there longer and not leave him on his own again, and he wanted to maybe get to know who she liked or thought she liked. But something in him told him that even if he wanted to believe she liked him, that little voice said otherwise.

"I don't know. I mean, I care about him, and he's good company." He did not notice the quick glance she threw at him from where she sat. But Xavier nodded along.

"And?" Maybe he could get some idea of who the guy was that she thought she liked. The small part of his heart that still believed he had her kept holding on for dear life.

"He's kind of charismatic."

"Kinda charismatic?"

"Okay, he's really charismatic. Like I really don't know, but something about him is just like... making me more happy than I usually feel." y/n turned, only to find that Xavier was already staring at her intently.

A short silence followed, with both of them just holding eye contact. She could not look away from him; even if he was not in the best of situations, he still wanted to listen to her explain the guy she thinks she likes, which was her describing him to himself. She liked his eyes; the green in them was something she found comforting. Honestly, she just liked everything about him, especially his personality and artistic sense. He was good-looking too.

"He's lucky; that sounds like love to me." Xavier averted his eyes from hers. The confirmation of what she had described as being love was all she needed. 

"Then I hope he can forgive me for cursing him out the first time we ever really talked," Xavier blinked and turned to face y/n. That sounded familiar. "Because I really did not know I was invisible, and he couldn't see me." 

Once more, Xavier got quiet and just stared at her. No, no, that could not be right, right? She liked him? Okay, this had to be a hallucination. He was going crazy. No way in hell did she actually like him back. His heart was racing, and he realised, by the look on y/n's face that said she was waiting for a reaction, that he had to say something.

"You like me?" And all of a sudden he was gloating; even though he was being held for being the hyde, she could still bring light to him.

"I guess so."

"You think I'm charismatic?"

"Don't let it feed your ego. I had been thinking of staying longer, but I promise I'll leave if you're going to be like that." y/n stood up quickly and gradually became less opaque. Xavier had grabbed her wrist and stood up before she could get any further away.The action caused y/n to become fully visible again.

"I was just kidding," There was a loving look in his eyes. "Stay, please. I don't want to be alone." 

y/n moved and intertwined their hands, gently smiling up at him before bringing their hands up and giving his hand a kiss, earning a slight blush from Xavier. "Then I'll stay."

Taglist:

@getbillzoned @honeybubblepopp @mrskeery-mclaughlin @wonderlandco @alicews @l4venderia @navs-bhat @ariianelle @moose-ubi @lomllino @honey-with-tea @rayliz793 @moatsnow @s0ftdr1nks

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #3

About seven months and I finished the first draft at 93k!

I always imagined how it would feel to finish a first draft (I’ve been writing novels “seriously” since about 2017) and now that I’ve finally done it, I can say it’s a better feeling than I imagined! Telling my friends and family (and even my doctor, who was really quite excited about it) was an amazing amazing thing. I’m generally pretty nervous to tell people about my work, but I had a really positive reaction. Honestly all of it has me on a creative high (not sure I’m coming down from that any time soon lol).

I’m going back for my last year of school in two days, which means I’m not going to have as much time as I did to write all summer. This is okay, because I’m actually going to take an entire month off of writing! I’m really burnt out - don’t want to start editing a story that’s so near to me if I don’t feel ready. I’ll talk more about editing when the time comes!

In a lot of ways, I found that my life mimicked my art. I think for a lot of people, it tends to be the other way around, but this story did a lot to heal me.

Going to hop right into excerpts now! I’m not going to explain much this far into the story because I would like to try to publish this story (FAR in the future) so I apologize for that! Also, I stopped naming most of the chapters until I go back and edit because there are just SO MANY and I didn’t have the time to stop and think of cool names. Anyways... enjoy!!

(Here is the link to the original masterpost!)

#1

text: Rays of gold curled to the ground, primordial and shy as the fire reeds on the cusps of shallow pool around the bay outside of Mothouse combed them to fine sparkles. I remembered the way Lonan kneeled on the edges of this pool. He never dove in – just blinked slowly as he watched crabs and minnows chase each other in a swirl of sand. I could not resist the water. I’d made it a part of me. My hair was longer then; down to my elbows, fading from dark red to orange and white, soaked always. Lonan let me borrow his shirts when I forgot to bring my own. They hung from my waist, too big for me, and I was warm even as the breeze rocked us inside.

#2

text: The sky was never blue in Point Blink. At least, I couldn’t remember the last time the clouds hadn’t given way to a dark gray mist. Jude was here. I was out of place. I was floating – watching slender, underfed pines wave in the breeze behind houses on the water before they disappeared underneath furls of cloud. Bursts of warm light shone in windows on the bay, like hungry eyes watching for a storm. A group of kids our age chaffed on a rocky expanse, their heads popping over pockets of darkness when they laughed. Froths of cloud stretched across the sky, moving the ground with it. Long stretches of trees and islands far on the other side of our small pocket of ocean looked more like large freight ships. Lights glittered and beamed on the roads and highways that belonged to the city. Pink was starting to show over the horizon. Lonan was on the other side. Somewhere.

#3

text: 

Jude sucked her lips in and flopped onto her stomach so she could see the blue below her feet. Her dark curls draped over her ears and hid her nose.

“I can’t see the bottom of the ocean.” She cupped her fingers with the other hand. “See where the water fades to white and back again? The endless tide. Why do people say the ocean is blue?”

I leaned forward. She was right. Blue ocean climbed up the side of the cliffs and turned the rocks a dark gray; ate the erosion as if from a plate. I’d never had the ocean explained to me that way before.

“I think I like it that way,” I said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was at the bottom of Point Blink.

#4

text: 

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. This is just guesswork. Patchwork.”

I wanted to apologize again, but I had a strong guess that it might make her annoyed with me. “It’s kind of like… I’m just waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”

She wrinkled her nose and eyebrows, scrunched up her little face. “That’s dumb.”

“I think it’s a smart way to live.” Sometimes it felt like worry was the only thing that kept me alive. It wasn’t dumb at all.

“You’re going to be fine though. We’re going to be fine. If something bad happens, we’ll deal with it. Don’t let it eat you.”

There was wisdom in what this seventeen-year-old girl on my bed had offered me. I caught it like a gold coin. Before I could reply with anything, she launched into another question. I didn’t want to think much about change anyways.

#5

text:

“Oh. Wow. That’s like, next year.” I sort of laughed.

“A year can be a long time,” Lonan said with a wince. “What do you think?”          

I sighed through my nose and leaned back with him. The sun was going down. Sometimes, my life felt less like a golden hourglass and more like a stopwatch with a broken face.

“For once, I think I agree with your mom.”

Lonan just stared at me, with something like awe.

“I think you should do what you want,” I said.

 “Ray,” Lonan started.

“No,” I interrupted him. “It’s not about me. She’s stopped you from doing anything and everything you’ve wanted to for the last four years, so when you go to college, you’ve got to separate yourself from this place.” I pointed to him. “You’re allowed to do this.”

#6

text: 

Maybe I was just being strange. Lonan was my best friend. It didn’t help that there was a little bit of him in everything – the tide pools, the echo of shells, my broken camera.

Soon, we stood in the center of the field. A breeze whispered through the cattails, fanning against our knees. Ellis loped behind me as I stepped in and out of tire tracks under the cloudless sun. She wasn’t much different than Jude. Her footsteps crunched excitedly behind mine, excited at the prospect of an unprecedented adventure. I’d missed those.

Lonan said he didn’t like to walk in fields because the wind tricked him into thinking that someone was behind him. Every brisk of his heel was a trick of the mind. Sometimes I felt the same way, like I might be haunted.

#7

text: 

The ageless water begged me closer, frizzed my hair and swathed my arms in a sweet, familiar scent. I remembered galloping down to the shore with a childhood friend in one May. Soft piano accompanied croaky lyrics from someone’s radio when we fell chest-first into the water. Static erupted in my head. There had been nothing new for me in Point Blink for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to float. Grass turned into pebbles, and I heard Ellis’ footsteps soften to the beat of the sand. Our eyes crumbled the shells that walled the long expanse of dark sand where waves rolled in. We leaned over like two swans, crunching shells beneath our feet, displaying shells to one another, naming the ones we recognized, and when I looked out at the horizon, I saw blue.

Red plastic cups, cigarettes, and even some broken glass stuck out through the sand as we made our way further down the shoreline, as if someone had thrown a party. My brow furrowed. Maybe this part of the beach wasn’t so abandoned after all.

Between the spit of the waves and dry sand lay some sort of book. Sand trickled out of the pages and onto my shoes when I swept it out of line of an oncoming wave. Ellis was beside me in moments. Shells tolled under her shoes.

#8

*Warning for mention of blood (fake blood and fake knife!!) this takes place on Halloween haha*

text: 

Jude held the container in her palm, kneeled down so we were shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes fixed on the knife in my neck, mine on her hands, then her focused expression. Her fingers tipped my chin up, cold on my skin. I tried not to move. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about Dad, or Raven, or Lonan. I only let Jude in – this girl who had come out of nowhere and wrecked me, saved me. And she didn’t know any of that. I didn’t owe anything to her, but I needed her. She kept us afloat when I couldn’t even keep myself above water. Her fingers painted blood over the center of my throat, our breath quiet on each other’s cheeks. She held my shoulder as she set back.               

“Absolutely feral,” she said.

#9

text: 

“Point Blink is all I have. It’s where I am, what I am.” My throat was tight. “It’s all I’ve known. I am happy with my life. And I’m sorry, but I’m not willing to throw all of that away so we can dig up answers. I want to stay.”

 Jude sat there for a moment. I think Florian and Ellis had turned to look at us, because when we went silent, I could no longer heat their hushed whispers, only the sound of water as it rose and rose and rose. I wondered if it would rain.

Jude sat up on her hands, then her knees, then she stood over me.

“Is that what you honestly believe?”

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Blood streaked down her cheeks. I’d been so focused on not crying, I had missed when she started to.

“Point Blink is just the same as anywhere,” she said. The words sat somewhere above her inside her chest, weak and frail, as though they’d been realized a long time ago.

I’d stared into her eyes until they disappeared. She grabbed onto a branch above her and quietly swung herself around a corner. Her footsteps echoed until they dissolved into waves and birds and frogs and left me in the dark.

#10

*Warning for strong language!*

text:

“Why didn’t you tell me how you’d been feeling?” he asked after a few moments of silence. It was beginning to stretch uncomfortably.

“I know I don’t deserve to know,” he added, “but you’ve always put me first.”

I picked at the wood that peeled from the fence.

“I just want you to be okay,” Lonan croaked. “Please tell me what to do.”

Even when we were together, we still worried about each other. It wasn’t always that way. Maybe that was my fault. I didn’t want to think about it.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I mumbled into the crisp, red air. “To be fair, I didn’t know it like I know now for a long time. I think sometimes I got the same way as a kid. Now I have a name for it, and I still don’t know if it feels right.” I sighed. “I guess… I guess I just thought that was how things were supposed to be. I thought I was only the humming low and the high.”

“Of course that’s not how you’re fucking supposed to be.”

 I coughed on a laugh, wiped away a new set of tears. On the rare occasion that Lonan did swear, he sounded much like he was doing it for the first time.

I hadn’t fully realized what I’d said before Lonan’s hand was around my arm. He pulled me close to his chest. I felt smaller than him; warm and safe. I exhaled and sunk into him, didn’t allow anything else in. I’d almost forgotten what that felt like.

“You’re funny and smart and better than a lot of people.”

And... that wraps up all of my excerpts for the time being! I really enjoyed writing the last four chapters of this book. Of course they aren’t perfect. A lot of the book needs improvement. There are entire characters who are flat and plot lines I just forgot about! Come October, I plan to get back into my edits/rewrite the story.

Really quick before I finish writing this:

I just wanted to thank everyone who read about my story and showed genuine interest in the characters. Had I not received all of this love from people in real life and online, I might never have finished this draft at all. When I started this story, my mental health was really quite bad. (I’m doing a whole lot better these days!!) I guess you could say the idea started as more of a journal entry. All of these characters are like little parts of me coming together to help the main character, and I think there’s something really special about that.

Thank you so much! Good luck on all your creative endeavors! It pays off in the end, I promise :)

tag list (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar​ @writeherewaiting @cryptid-s-wips @kingsinking @author-a-holmes

[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR DAUGHTER

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsuro, iwaizumi hajime

note: female reader ‼️ watch me write about dad!haikyuu all the moments I didn't have with my own sperm donor

MIYA ATSUMU after a long day at work, you were coming home a little more late than usual and as you were opening the door with a sigh, the first thing you listen is “PEASANT, DO NOT TOUCH THE QWEEN CWON”, yeah that’s definitely your daughter and your pretty sure that the “peasant” is your, oh so-called husband. Curiosity took the best of you, now you were behind your daughter’s door listen carefully what atsumu was saying to her, “WHATYA MEANT PEASANT? I WANNA WEAR A CROWN TOO YA KNOW!” your daughter gasps in disbelieve, “daddy, mom is da queen, I’m da princess and yer the peasant! And clearly, mommy isn’t here so don’t touch her cwon!” One thing you know is that you wouldn’t like to see and hear a screaming match between the peasant and the princess in question, thinking that stepping in is the best option, you said “what’s the matter in here?”, next thing you know, your daughter with his big brown eyes that she got from her father, comes running at you, screaming “momm- I mean queen! Yeah, queen! yer just on time for the tea party, this peasant needs to learn some manners” you picked her up, enjoying the way her little arms go around your neck, “yeah? What did dada do this time?” while her face is on your neck, she tells you with a whisper “psss mom, he is not dad now, remember is tea party time” and now with her voice a little more loud she announces to you what he did “he wanted to use ya cwon!  Literally had to scream at him cause of that! Peoples this time are onbelivabol” the las part coming with a sigh, “ugh I now right? Why don’t we teach him some manners then?” After a little thinking, your daughter tells you “uh-huh! Yer right my queen, now I will leave to the bathroom and come back to continue this celebration”. While she leaves, atsumu comes at you with a back hug asking if ya really taking her side? with a low tone, so you replied with “of course I’m taking her side, she’s a child, our child in fact” atsumu looks at you with big eyes and tells you “she is right, people these times are onbelivabol but I still love you my queen”, now facing him, noses and foreheads touching each other you whisper to him “I love you to my peasant” and after a little chuckle you continue “thank you so much for this”.

 BOKUTO KOUTAROU he always had tea parties with his daughter on Mondays after his volleyball practice with the MSBY. He couldn’t go to last week's party because of an away game, and he was devasted and promised her little princess that he would get her something. Now he is coming home from the airport with three Elsa dresses, one for his precious child, the other for his precious wife, and the last one for him, it was very difficult to find one of his size cause of his beefy body, but if he promises his little girl something, he is gonna make it without a doubt. “HEY HEY HEY! GUESS WHOS HOME” he screams while putting his suitcase down “HEY HEY HEY DADDY! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! MOMMY IS MAKING DINNER WHILE I PREPARED OUR SUPER DUPER EXTRA TEA PARTY!!” he picks her up with one arm, making his way to the kitchen to involve you in a hug with the arm he had free “we missed you, kou” snuggling into his neck, and while his arm tightens around you he replies with a soft tone “missed my two girls too, so much” he puts her daughter on the floor again and tells her “missy I have a surprise for our tea party, why don’t you finish the preparations and then mom and I are gonna go there with dinner? Sounds good?” whit a little nod she answers with “yeah dada, that sounds good”. After hearing her enter her room you ask your husband what did he get for her, and when he tells you he didn’t get one, not two but three princess dresses you’re over the moon, the fuck you’re going to do with three dresses? you don’t question him and keep cooking as if you wouldn’t have to put on a frozen show in less than half an hour. “BABY IM COMING TO YOUR ROOM WITH HOT FOOD, BE CAREFULL” the little girl sees you in all your glory, with the most beautiful Elsa dress she ever saw “MAMA, WHY YOU DIDNT TOLD ME ELSA LET YOU BORROW HER DRESS? YOU'RE SO PWETTY!” laughing a little at her comment you decide that it was the best to tell her is a secret between adults, excited to see her reaction when her dad comes to her room with the same dress on him and a little one for her. “IM COMING IN!” your husband yells and your daughter’s eyes are the bigger you ever saw them, running like the flash to steal the dress that was in his dad's hands. “Daddy, that dress is so pwetty on you, and there's one for me! We are all matching! And now we are gonna have our four curse, ugh no, cruse, ump corse, mommy how do I say it?”, “course darling, four meal course. Now dada, why don’t you come to eat with us this fancy dinner?” after nodding and making his way to the both of you, bokuto thinks he is gonna ask for another kid one of these days.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

; i'm coming home

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message with your @.

bucky barnes x reader ⎢ masterlist.

bucky and you met six years ago in romania, but he disappeared. now, he's back.

word count: 1.8k.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

requests are open.

Six years had passed since the last time he was with you, before disappearing overnight. He didn't give you any explanation, he didn't even leave a note. He needed to protect you, but he also knew how stubborn you were and that you wouldn't let him take that decision for both. So Bucky simply left, breaking your heart in one thousand pieces. You wanted to understand his reasons, but you couldn't. He promised you eternal love, a life together, moving out of New York —maybe to a remote place where anyone could recognize him and have peaceful days, without having to be worried about someone coming after him. About someone trying to hurt you.

Since the very first moment you met in Romania, Bucky fell in love with you. Sometimes you still remembered how he started talking to you in Romanian, guessing you were from there until you laughed and replied in English. The next few weeks were like a daydream. Walks, romantic dates, nights of stargazing. Then, you came back to New York and kept in touch by letters, as in the forties or fifties. Until one day. Your friends invited you to a museum and what you discovered there was unbelievable. James, your James, was Captain America's best friend. And he was supposed to be dead.

You wrote to him. You told him you knew it. You told him you didn't care, that you could figure out how to escape from that situation. Together. But he never sent you a letter back. You weren't able to forget him after all that time, still sleeping every night with his red shirt, stupidly fantasizing about the idea of Bucky coming back to you. And your hopes increased when you watched him on TV. The Avengers found him and, even if you tried to contact them somehow to defend your James, you never got it. Nobody believed you, not even when you showed them the letters, not the only picture you conservated of both of you in Bucharest. You prayed to God to help him. You begged God to the world seeing him as you did.

But when Bucky was released on parole, he never tried to look for you. He did know you lived in New York and, with his resources, he'd have known in less than five minutes. One year had passed, and you ended up losing the most minimal hope wrapping your heart. All those things he told you once, were just lies. Lies to inventing a parallel life until you left Romania. Only replying to your letters to have something to lean on for his own good. That's what he demonstrated to you.

bucky's pov

Like every night since he earned part of his freedom, Bucky stared at the windows of your apartment, from the opposite sidewalk hidden behind a tree. Like a ghost. Like he was trained to see but not be seeing. Every night, he wanted to cross the road, call to your door, kiss you, hug you, feel your touch and your love —hold you, and never let you go again. But he knew it was risky, he knew he had to wait for the right time. And it came. Tonight it came. His year of therapy had ended and he was free. Bucky was free to come back home.

He had been watching you since it started, making sure you were safe and sound. He also was aware that you never rebuilt your life with another man, that you tried to find him. That you slept every night with his shirt. Bucky was also aware of all the times you cried for him, that you always walked the same way from your job to your apartment expecting to meet him in some street close to it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Taking a deep, deep breath, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his coat, the soldier put a step on the road. The first step to happiness. And then, no one could stop him. He continued to the front door of the building, not needing more than a push to open it. Third floor, fifth door at the right of the corridor. Bucky licked his bottom lip nervously, swallowing as he took a master key from one of his pockets and a small metallic stick to force the lock of your house. He needed to be fast and stealthy, ringing the bell wasn't an option for very obvious reasons. Breaking into the apartment, he closed the door quietly behind his back.

The lights were all turned off a couple of hours ago when you went to sleep, after sitting on the window of your living room waiting for someone who wasn't going to show up, as every night for the last six years. The whole place smelled sweet like you used to. Bucky never forgot your scent, using it as the encouragement he needed to continue fighting for his freedom, for a life together. Now, his heart was racing so quickly that the whole city could hear his beats.

Slowly, he toured the entrance, the living room, the hallway straight to your dorm. The door was half-closed. Not a single noise coming from the inside. Bucky walked towards it, pushing it in slow motion, trying to not wake you up. And if he knew before that could be that easy to watch you sleep —for creepy that it sounded— he would have watched you every night since he landed in New York.

Bucky wasn't sure about what to do. If he should wake you up, if he should let you sleep and come the next day after you finished your work. When he wanted to realize, he was running the nail of his index finger on your soft cheek. Your skin was still warm, which meant you fell asleep crying again. And that broke his heart, his soul. Being conscious of all the pain and the suffering he made you being through all that time was killing him from inside. And he wished he could have handled your relationship in another way. But there wasn't another way without you being collateral damage of his past.

Bucky was about to leave when he suddenly felt a hit to his collarbone, stumbling to the bed. He didn't have time to react when your right leg was beneath his cold arm and pinning down his neck, as your left leg was laced around it. Your hand gripping his wrist, immobilizing him, pointing at him with a loaded gun between your free fingers. Your breathing became erratic, your pulse was beating faster than ever, but you were ready to shoot if the occasion required it.

In the middle of the gloom you glimpsed at those deep oceanic blue eyes you had been craving to look at for years. The same eyes on the picture on your nightstand. It has to be another dream. Another nightmare where Bucky came to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But his touch felt so real that it hurt like a million flames burning down your body to ashes. You were paralyzed. Your brain collapsed. In a very slow motion, James —your James— raised his right hand from the mattress to above his chest, bringing it to the gun aimed at his head. You couldn't stop him. You tried with all your strength. But the commands sent by your neurons never reached the finger supported against the trigger.

His flesh digits made their way to your trembling hand, as the tears started to sprout out from your eyes. Bucky took the weapon, not needing to ask you to release it, to put it away from the two of you.

“It's okay, draga mea, it's me…” He whispered with such an angelical and melodic voice, over your dolorous sobs. “May I, uh… get my arm back?”

Bit by bit, you obeyed as if it was some kind of polite order, loosening the grip around his arm and over his neck. Stepping back till your body collided with the headboard, you curled up your knees to your furious chest rising and falling, hiding your face between the gap of both. Your cry became louder, agonic, painful, ripping your throat.

“No— Not again… Not again, please… I c— can't”. You implored sorely.

Bucky didn't need to be a genius to understand you firmly believed it was just part of another of your dreams. Another of your nightmares. He sat upon your bed, coming closer to you and landing his cold metallic hand on the back of your head, urging you to raise it. You did. You did raise your burning face because of the tears falling, running down your cheeks. Your blurry gaze focused on his pale blue eyes, begging you silently to forgive him.

“I'm here… I'm back”. Bucky murmured, gently touring your skin until reaching a side of your neck, caressing your throat by using his thumb. “This is not a dream, draga mea. This is real”.

His intentions weren't to scare you, speaking to you with such a honeyed tone of voice as he shortened the distance between his body and your legs yet curled. You pouted unconsciously, watching him leaning above your legs to press his lips on the bridge of your nose. Slowly, fondly. Wanting to transmit to you that the flame of his love for you never went out. Resting his forehead against yours, your right hand flew straight to the back of his neck. You had never needed more than you needed him at that precise instant, trying to believe that that wasn't a trick of your subconscious.

“'M so, so sorry… I had to protect you… I had to protect you”. Bucky explained while closing his eyes, lacing his free fingers with yours. “But, uh… I know you still drink black coffee with mocha and a stick of cinnamon every Thursday. I know you… rent a book from the library and sit on the stairs in your free evenings… I know you sleep with this same shirt every night”.

Discovering he had been watching you all this time provoked your lips to shiver, as your cry became lower and your breathing was calmer. He guarded your days, in the shadows, till the right moment. And it came. Tonight was the right moment.

“I'm free. I'm not an enemy anymore… I'm not a target”. Bucky couldn't help but chuckle to hold back his own tears. “I'm so sorry”.

“Will you…? Will you stay now? With me?” At first, you doubted asking, being afraid of his response for a second.

“No one will ever set us apart again. No one”. He promised you, his heart speaking, telling the absolute truth. “Everything I told you in Bucharest; everything was true. And I… I want it”.

Bucky leaned forward enough inches to make disappear the less distance between both of you, pressing his lips in yours, tenderly caressing your jawline with his thumb as his tears met yours in the corner of your lips. Neither of you could believe that you were reunited after all these years, after all the pain, the loneliness. And like James, your James, said so: no one would ever set you apart again.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and support writers with a REBLOG!!! 🤍

tag list. @whatrambles @phoenixhalliwell @homesicam @marvel-diaries @amelia-song-pond @heartbeats-wildly @met4no1a @weenersoldierr @petlaufeyson @sillygamingartghost @wildflowergubler @isnt-it-loverly @zealouspursecowboydeputy @rvgrsbrns @artisancowbells @plagooey @tinylumpiaa @hemsbucky @bxmaaa @quxxnxfhxll @capxwinter @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @hateinthemorning @asemistablehundredyearoldman @purpleelfwizard @twinerd14 @nikkixostan @stolenxkissess @wintersfilm @whoreforsamwilson @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm @baconmuffins1216 @28cnn @hxlyhoax @lieswithoutfairytales @angrybirdxx @clownerlyluv @kait-is-always-late @marvel-ousnesss @natashadeservedbetter @ebxny27 @fanofalltheficsx @spider-man-lover @masterlists101 @lewd-alien @warm-sensations @stealapizzamyheart @talk-on-the-street @theresnoplatypus

[zeldaelmo]

Warnings: Pregnancy, contractions, mentions of canonical character deaths

My thanks @silentprincess17 and @braidy-maidy for beta reading!

Stitches - No. 31 - Hurt&Comfort

The needle slipped from Zelda's fingers when the discomfort showed its first signs. Cumbersomely, she raised from her chair, leaned both hands on the edge of the kitchen table, and breathed through the rising wave of distress. Inhale—and a longer exhale. The wave took the softness of her belly with it, made it hard and sensitive to the touch. 

This is normal, Zelda told herself again, hundreds of times. Her body trained for the birth of their child, her midwife had explained that to her. Of course, Zelda had read every book that she could get her hands on about childbirth afterward. Admittedly, she had only found three—even five years after the end of the Calamity, the scholarship in Hyrule was still developing gradually. Ever so slowly, the discomfort lost its peak and ebbed away. Completely normal, she persuaded herself, no need to panic. Most women had smaller contractions long before the birth and it did not mean that something was wrong. On the contrary. 

She knew that. All three books—she could recite them by heart now. Trust is what you need, Zelda, her midwife had said and patted her arm. Trust in your body and that Hylia has us all in Her hands. 

Zelda had only given her a shallow nod.

Trust was a fickle thing when the smell of the burning fields crept up on her every time she forgot a pan on the stove. When the only way she could see her friends smiling at her was by standing in the middle of their homes, looking up to the carved, cold stone. How could she believe again when their names had weathered to legends, a wooden sign on a landing, and barely a handful of worshippers the only reminder of their existence? When every time she saw a mop of red hair bobbing up and down on Vah Naboris, she had to grab Link's arm or the grief would pull her under like quicksand? How could she trust again when the only way to show her father that she accepted his belated change of heart was by piling up another pebble on the stone grave on the Great Plateau? She didn't have the luxury of faith that everything would turn out well in the end. Not anymore. Not after fate had ripped nearly everything from her.

She managed another set of breaths, determined not to wake up Link for help. The breathing exercise her midwife had shown her was helpful. It took away the peak of the discomfort and she was confident that it would help her through the real birth pain, too. The one thing that the routine couldn't ease was the rising panic in her. Every uncomfortable tug, every drop of blood let her mind spiral away from facts and knowledge until she was a puddle of "I can't lose everything again". It didn't matter how many books she read or how many mothers she talked to, her rationality sat helplessly in a corner, its hands over the head when the rush of helplessness overtook her. 

Shoving the remnants of the dark thoughts away, she returned to her seat and picked up her needlework. She still had at least four weeks to go, so it was unlikely that she would have another contraction tonight. Stroking her fingers over the familiar blue fabric, she allowed the smile to spread on her face. She was happy, despite everything. 

Link had long stopped wearing his tunic and had permitted her to work the fabric into something else. She was nearly finished. Just securing the last seam, and then she could turn the right side out and stuff her creation.

The padding of bare feet on wood made her ears twitch, so she turned around, welcoming Link with a smile.

"Hey," he greeted her groggily, the seam of his sleeping shirt revealing that little extra pound he always had in wintertime when he ruffled his hair. "Whatcha doing?" 

Oh, he was adorable when he was sleepy. 

"Sewing," she answered, chuckled and waved him over.

"It's hours past midnight, isn't it? Can't sleep again?"

"No, insomnia is Mommy's best friend."

"And here I was," he yawned excessively, "assuming naively, that such a thing would only come when our little one has arrived." Once he had reached her, he pressed a kiss on the back of her head.

"Then I can at least leave her or him to your care."

He hummed, absently stroking through her short hair. The parenthood worried him. Well, both of them. They had taken their time to grow with each other, learning how to deal with conflicts, small and bigger ones. The nightmares both of them suffered had been a minor annoyance compared to the rest. Zelda fought every day against the remnants of the assumption that her failure had caused the tragedy. She had to learn self-care from scratch—her father’s upbringing had not offered her any healthy coping skills. Link, however, had the contrary problem. He lacked any kind of filter when they reunited. He did what he thought was right and that differed a great deal from what the rest of the world considered appropriate. It had been a blessing during his tasks—it needed a little craziness to face a rampaging Divine Beast, but while living in a village and in a relationship with someone, it was tiresome. Nonetheless, they had both been determined to make it work and that was enough.

But still, taking care of a new life, being responsible for someone else day and night—it was thrilling and strange at once. She wasn't sure if they were ready, but they both knew that the lingering effects their history had on both of them wouldn't change if they waited for another five years.

"Tea?" Link pulled her back from the dark cloud over her head. He had a knack for that. "Or do you still get nauseous from the smell of Hyrule Herb? I need to collect Blue Nightshade tomorrow, we ran out."

"No…" she sighed, scrunching her nose, "no Hyrule Herb, please."

"Well, hot water is it then." He laughed and trotted towards the oven, throwing his hands playfully in the air, saying, "again."

After stuffing her creation with wadding, she circled it to see if she had missed a spot. Another bunch of wool and she was satisfied. Just when Link came back with the "tea", she had finished embroidering the eyes and securing the hair that she made of thread.

"Can I take a look? Or is it a surprise?" He dropped on the chair, shoving a mug in her direction.

"Ah, thank you. Sorry that we can't have tea."

Link shrugged. "At least the problem is Hyrule Herb and not meat or mushrooms."

"True. Thank you for bearing with my antics nonetheless."

That earned her an eye roll, but she should have seen that coming.

"Close your eyes." She nodded towards the article that she had covered with both hands to hide it from him. Squeezing it in the right shape again and arranging every thread to her satisfaction, she directed him, "And now open them."

Link blinked at her. And at the result of a night's work in her hands. Why didn't he say anything? Didn't he like what she had done with his tunic?

"Is that… a horse plushie?"

She nodded.

"Oh, wow. That's the cutest thing I've ever seen. Look!" He pointed at the plushie. "It has a mane and a tail!" 

"I know, Link, I made it," she explained and chuckled.

"Right!"

"So, you like it?" She swallowed because her throat was suddenly dry. "I don't know if you remember…" Oh, how she hated phrases that began with these words. "You had one as a child. You told me once and I thought…"

Gingerly, he took the plushie from her. The threads of the tail curled around his index and he stroked his finger pads over the fabric, even raising the little horse to smell it. 

"No," he whispered and the numb frustration behind his eyes when he tried to get a hold of the swirling glimpses of another time, another life broke her heart yet again. "I don't."

Too quickly, he stood up. He placed the plushie on the table again, grabbing his mug. Just when he had turned for the stove, he lingered. 

"Can…" he spoke over his shoulder, the half of his face that she could see flushing deeper with every word, "I mean, could you… could you maybe make… ah, sew a second one?"

With measured movements, she unfolded the remains of his old tunic, inviting him with her eyes to join her at the table again. "I… I could, but… as you see, I used most of the undamaged fabric already."

He poked the fingers of his free hand on one of the patched spots, searching for words, before he settled for a rushed, "I don't mind." And then, after a beat of silence, something like a smile showed on his face and he took her hand, the one with the rough line the scissors had caused more than a century ago. "True beauty is never about perfection. It’s about patches and marks and scars of standing up again.”

She snapped her gaze to his, meeting his blue eyes when his unexpectedly philosophic words sank in. With the bubble of laughter that rose from her belly, she interlaced their hands and squeezed. “Nobody in this house needs to be perfect, not even plushies."

And when he squeezed back and smiled that small, shy smile at her for that she had fallen a century ago, she knew he was right. Smooth, cold perfection would never match something that was mended with love.

[mxvladdy]

I can't stress enough 'wows' in tve way you write along with the fact that it's you first few posts (i think? Pls correct me) can you do luci mammon and satan with a reader who takes naps bc of overthinking? They just tug their sleeves and shot them a tired look, while looking down shying away. Also, have a nice day and take the time to be yourself!

Aw thanks fam! I am fairly new to posting my works, I tried twice before this with two different writing blogs but I deleted them both bc I felt discouraged. I’m older now and I feel a lot better about my writing, so third time the charm and all that lol! I’m so glad you like my writing! I know I need some work on grammar and expanding my vocabulary.  

This was a super cute prompt ;.; I hope I did it justice!

Lucifer

He is a mix of jealous and pissed. He wishes he could fall asleep so easily when he gets inundated with too many things at once. But also- just don’t do that? Where were your manners?

He starts noticing your little peculiarity in class. Specifically that you tend to nod off in advance alchemy and rune scripting. You were being so studious, jotting down notes, ask great questions. Next thing he knows you're out like a light.

He is shocked for a moment before he will wake you up. Your wide doe-eyed frown does nothing to him. JK his hearts clench at your wounded look.

He makes the other brothers report to him about your behavior and odd sleep habit. Were you ill? Was this just something humans did? Devils, was Belphie rubbing off on you?

They all say the same thing. One moment you are working hard or talking to them about a topic you are passionate about, and the next you are yawning hard enough to pop your jaw and shyly asking to lay down.

Well-he can’t have that.

If you are going to fall asleep around anyone it’s going to be him.

He sets up remedial lessons with you after dinner to make up for the work slept through. You sit by him at his long ornate desk while he tutors you on what you missed.

You weren't having any problems,  you even finished a few pages. He is proud and then-

“I can almost hear those gears slowing my dear.” Lucifer interrupts himself mid-explanation of Zosimos of Panopolis and Maria the Prophetess's theories of alchemy in human medicine.

You jerk awake and turn to him blinking owlishly. "Yeah, I just need to lay down." You admit.

Lucifer eyes you critically. This was sudden, were you ill? You had been fine moments ago, bright-eyed and enthusiastic. He cups your face, turning it from side to side. "So suddenly? We haven't even discussed the properties of mercury yet." You hum letting your eyes droop. He was always so warm.

"Hour nap break? Please?" His stern gaze softens at how your nose scrunches up cutely as you yawn.

“Very well.” He relents letting you slick over to his couch. You flop over face first with a grunt of satisfaction. You toss and turn for a while, moving his pillows around unsatisfied.

“Luci-” You call in defeat. He ignores you at first. If you wanted to nap fine, he would get some work done in the meantime. “Luci~” You say again. You could see his brow twitching. “Lu-”

“My dear,” He shoots you a withering look. “You are treading a thin line. If you have the energy to call for me you have the energy to study.” You say nothing at his brisk tone, instead of opening your arms to him to join you. “You tempt me.” He purrs hiding his smile behind his paperwork.

“Learned from the best.” Lucifer shakes his head laughing at your smug reply. He glances over you to his grandfather clock. Hmmm-perhaps he could spare a few minutes. He rises elegantly discarding his tie and waistcoat to his abandoned chair. Running a hand through his hair he snorts at your little whistle.

“Move.” He commands. You shake your head patting your belly. “I will crush you.” He laughs but lays over you regardless.

“Good-you’re warm.” You say muffled in his shirt. Wrapping your arms around his middle you drift off. Lucifer holds you close, running a still gloved hand up and down your side. Perhaps he should bring out some more complex topics next time. If this was the outcome-

Mammon

He noticed you get drowsy before in class. Your cute little head jerks as you nod off, hands rubbing at your face as you fight to stay awake before giving in to the need to sleep. It was adorable- not that he was watching you because of that! He was just doing his job of looking out for you

Ye-that was all.

Honestly, he thought you were just like him. He never cared for the books being forced on him in class. Boring useless crap in his opinion. He much rather sleep through a lecture on stats too.

Now books on photography? That's where it's at. He has a legitimate passion for it.

He likes being behind the camera just as much as he likes being in front of it. Though he doesn't snap photos often.

He doesn't need more beratement from his brothers than he already gets. Sides, he just feels like they would look down at this like everything else he does.

He'll share his hobby with you though. You at least seem interested in it. He'll show you his collection of vintage to high-tech cameras and talk your ear off about the makes, models, and features.

You nod along and ask questions from time to time, smiling along with Mammon while he prattles on about color theory next to you on the floor.

He was just getting to Auguste Lumiére when he feels a gentle bump on his shoulder.

"O-oi!" Mammon starts, shaking his shoulder to rouse you. You look up at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes. "Was...was I that boring?" He deflates a little, all previous excitement gone in a flash. You had seemed so interested...

"What? Oh, no. No Mammon I'm sorry. It's really all fascinating," You grab for his sleeve so he couldn't run away. "It was just a lot of information all at once. I just got a bit overwhelmed."

"So you fall asleep?" He raises a brow not believing you for a second. Who falls asleep when something is interesting? He'll admit he's fallen asleep while listening to Levi talk about a new anime or Asmo with a make-up release.  But that's because it had been boring. "Is that like a human thing?"

You shrug snuggling closer. "I don't know- but it's a me thing. Give me five? I'd love to hear you talk more about your collection, promise."

Mammon glows scarlet at your words. "Of course you do!" He puffs out his chest excitedly. “I got great taste.” You nod into his shirt before drifting off again. He tilts his head slightly to look at you chuckling internally when your breathing and heartbeat slow down. Damn, out in seconds. Well, better get comfortable.

Uncrossing his long legs he picks up the camera he had been showing you. The old Polaroid lens reflects his face back at him. He remembered the day Land had debuted this marvel of engineering. He just had had to get his hands on one. It was useless now, he had much better quality cameras than this old thing, but he remembered you reminiscing about your human friends and their portable camera. Would you take some pictures with him too? He would take one now, but the sound of the flash would definitely wake you up.

He fiddles with it for a few more minutes, opening and closing the film canister and checking for any parts that needed fixing as he waits. You stir at his side a few minutes later with a little mew of satisfaction. Mammon hears your joints creak and pop as you stretch. "Morning." He says sarcastically, earning himself a light punch to his shoulder. "Ready to continue?"

You nod eagerly, perky and aware. At least for the moment.

Satan

He didn't really notice at first the pattern of your behavior.

You would come over for book club. Which was really just him reading his current novel and you picking something at random to gain a little random knowledge.

You would find a comfortable position on his bed, curl up nice and small and read. Then after a bit yawn and start to snooze.

He first thought it was the atmosphere of his room. It was quiet, warm, and the sound of flickering candles and the rustle of paper sometimes caused him to doze too.

But when it starts happening outside of class he notices.

Hmmm….this is new.

He looks it up in his human anatomy books and finds nothing.

He's not particularly worried about you per se. You always bounce back quickly after a quick snooze.

Then you start dozing when he is talking… >:(

Like his brother/dad he is a little miffed at first but then your behavior reminds him a cat and he loves you 10x harder now

Satan stops in his pacing of the back gardens. His book of poetry hanging limply in his hand. He had been reciting some of the most fascinating lines of work from Lord Byron's later works and wanted a human's perspective. He had thought you were interested. You never complained before when he asked you out here. Perhaps you were just being polite all those times before. Anything to soothe wrath. He snaps his book shut sharply, take some perverse satisfaction in the way you start out of your light sleep at the noise.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask wiping at your face.

"No point talking to someone that doesn't wish to listen." He snaps tersely.

"Oh-Satan, no I was listening. It...it just got to be so much so fast." You flush. “You had some great points going, I just needed a minute.” He watches your eyes grow heavy again, and it dawns on him.

"Do you just sleep when overwhelmed?" He asks incredulously. In all his years with humans, this was new. You shrug making grabby hands for him to move closer. He scoffs but moves into your space. You grab at the hem of his shirt and pull him down to sit next to you. He goes willingly getting comfortable by your side. You eye his lap longingly, hands clutching around his coat sleeve. “Fine-” He rolls his eyes. “Come here you odd thing.” You smile in triumph and crawl into his lap. Once settled you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“Wake me up in ten? I want to hear more about your conversations with Byron.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He kisses the top of your forehead, opening his book to read again with one hand. You hum at his soft kiss, returning it sleepily with one of your own before passing out again. Ten minutes go by in an instant and Satan looks down at your peaceful face. He smiles to himself, perhaps he’ll let you sleep for a little while longer. You’d need it for his next point.  

[turnscote]

An AU where Luke was telling the truth about why he left and actually kept in touch with you.

Pair: Luke/MC Rating: G Word count: 1310 Synopsis: As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.

Also on AO3.

It was perhaps late spring or early summer. You could remember how your nose was mildly itchy from the pollen as you found him sitting by the windowsill yet again. The breeze had felt warm, and the trees outside were rustling. It was supposed to be just like any other day until you heard the news that Luke will be moving away. In a week, nonetheless. It was surprising, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. Luke has always been a genius. You often teased him for being a nerd (affectionately, of course, to which he'd respond with a pout, and, oh, of course, you just had to pinch his cheek). Why wouldn't the National Central University, the country's top university, want him?

Promises were made. You're free to read Luke's Sherlock Holmes collection that he left at his parents' house. You'd call. You'd keep each other updated, about your lives, about your reading progress on his books, about all the food the capital has to offer. His moving away isn't going to change anything. You'd take good care of yourselves, even without having the other around, even without Luke chasing off any geese who would harass you, even without you apologizing to the grumpy neighborhood grandpa for the ruckus Luke had made. You two were going to be just fine. Right?

As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. You know that. You sighed and closed Luke's copy of The Boscombe Valley Mystery. Ever since the age of five, Luke's presence has always been a constant in your life. Now you're left anxiously waiting for him to call.

Luke had told you earlier this morning that he'd be rather busy today, what with all the classes he got, and he's not even done with settling in. Despite his tight schedule, he still managed to take the time to text you several times throughout the day. Luke sent a picture of the egg sandwich he had for lunch. Apparently, he was in a rush in between classes, and the meal from the convenience store was all he could manage. He then complained about how it wasn't enough for him, how he regretted not getting more.

He promised he'd call once he's done with one of his assignments. You weren't expecting it to take this long. It was past 10 already. You had finished your homework hours ago, and that's why you're left in the state you are now. Laying in bed, The Boscombe Valley Mystery still sitting on your chest because you couldn't be bothered to get up and put it away. Is college that much harder? Luke must have been exhausted by now. Not wanting to keep him up just so that you could talk to him, you decided to text him to wish him luck on his work and that you two can just call some other time when he's less busy. You considered adding a cute sticker of a bunny with pom-poms but decided against it. You're a high school student now. Using stickers seems kind of childish and silly, doesn't it?

You finally got up, put the book away, and went to the bathroom to wash up before bed. By the time you came back, you notice your phone screen lighting up, informing you of a missed call from Luke. You hurriedly dialled him back. Within two rings, you finally heard his voice.

"Hey." There wasn't much energy to his voice. "Did I keep my Watson waiting?"

As odd as it may be, despite you never going anywhere and staying in Stellis, hearing Luke's voice made you feel like you're finally home once again.

"You're busy, Luke. I understand. You could have gone to bed right away, you know?" It really wasn't a big deal. Sure, you missed him, but you'd rather have Luke be well-rested.

"Oh, uh, well," you could hear a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line. "I'm not done with work yet, actually. It's much harder than I had anticipated." A pause. "I just wanted to make sure I could hear how your day was before you go to bed," his voice softened.

You let out a long sigh. Luke putting yourself over his own wellbeing. That's one thing that hasn't changed, huh? You couldn't admit that you thought that he was being very sweet and that you're honestly happy about it. You can't enable this behavior of his, can you? He seriously needs to put himself first.

"Okay, we'll make this quick then. You really need to take better care of yourself, Luke. Make sure you get enough rest."

"Alright, alright, I get it."

This is how it's always been. You two worrying and nagging each other, to the point that it may seem overbearing.

"So, the braised pork granny made for lunch, we still got plenty of leftovers left, so we also had that for dinner." You could hear Luke groaning in jealousy. Granny's braised pork was great. "I also read a bit of The Boscombe Valley Mystery."

"Oh! How are you liking it so far?" Luke clearly perked up at that.

"I haven't gotten very far yet, but I'm curious to see how they're going to prove James' innocence. All the evidence seems to be pointing at him right now."

A hearty laugh. Oh, how you love the sound of it. "You'll soon see, my dear Watson."

It's Luke's voice. It's clear it's Luke's voice. You'd recognize his voice anywhere. It's just, it doesn't sound the same over phone calls. Obviously, there's the slight noise, it's not a bother, but you do miss how clear his voice sounds in person. There's also the fact that his voice doesn't sound as deep, but that's fine, this is fine, it can't be helped. You're just glad you could still hear his voice to begin with. You're glad he'd make time for you instead of making you feel like you're left behind.

"How about you, Luke?" you asked. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, it's just some stuff on engineering chemistry. I also had to review some stuff for my engineering physics class tomorrow."

Science has never been your best subject, so when Luke explained further all the things he had to do, you were honestly feeling a bit lost. You loved hearing him talk about it so giddily, though. It reminds you of all the times when you'd have a nightmare disrupt your sleep and Luke would come over to your room and tell you the lamest science facts to distract you and get you back to sleep.

Luke seems to have noticed your quieter yeahs and mms to his stories. "Hey, you should sleep." You couldn't see it, but you got his gentle smile perfectly imprinted in your mind. That's probably how he looks right now.

"Sure, but," normally you'd be too embarrassed to ask for something like this. But you're too sleepy and you can't think straight so you went ahead with it, "Is it okay if we stay on the phone like this?"

It took a while for Luke to respond, but he finally said, "What do you mean?" as if in disbelief of what you're asking of him. That's fair. It is a ridiculous request, after all. It almost makes you want to take back what you just said. Almost. It must be all the K-drama you've been watching.

"You can get back to work, and I can go sleep, we just leave the call on."

"Alright," Luke said. "We can do that."

As you settled in bed, you could hear him tenderly say, "Good night, my dearest Watson."

This is nice too, you thought. Things aren't the same, but you two are going to be just fine.

[idjitlili]

Oh no, all the hobbits Aragorn.

Aragorn x reader.

Request for Thatfoolishhuman 'I would love an Aragorn imagine! Could you do one where the Mc is a healer (like, she can make wounds disappear with her hands.) and she patches Aragorn up after a battle and he falls in love with how gentle she is.'

Summary: Imagine being apart of the fellowship, being Gandalf's niece , you learn some stuff from him whether he liked it or not. Basically following the fellowship in secret from Rivendell, until you slipped up.

A/n: Arwen and Aragorn aren't together in this imagine, he still grew up with Elrond. A pitch is a piggyback ride it's the original name for it. Totally didn’t make a meme for this

Word count:2253

Warnings: I'm British, so spelling for certain words differs, such as grey, colour, among other words, don't be mad please.

Growing up around a wizard, especially Gandalf the grey, you learnt a lot. He just left books laying around, books full of spells. Of course Gandalf wasn't really related to you, but he might as well have been. Your parents travelled a lot, so you ended up being around Gandalf most of your childhood.

Gandalf had taught you some basic spells, nothing major, healing spells mostly, children are clumsy. It was no secret your parents didn't like you running through the forests, saying it was too dangerous , general protectiveness, you guess. Many times they proved that they were right, many times you had fallen into traps left for animals. You would've probably bled out, if it wasn't for Gandalf.

Still living with your parents, no longer a child, not knowing what you wanted to do, you parents wanted you to go work in the local bakery, not wanting you to travel around like they did, dangerous times with black riders frequently on the road and such. But of course you didn't want a simple life.

Again your parents had left on business, this time you didn't go to Gandalf's house, you had maybe listened in, when going to visit Frodo , only to see Samwise Gamgee listening under the window. You know how it goes, Gandalf caught him, not you.

You ended up following Frodo, Sam , Merry and Pippin. Life is boring, might as well take a risk, you longed for adventure, like the mister Bilbo. 

Surprisingly the elves had not even noticed you at Rivendell, actually not surprising Gandalf had brought you there many times, so they probably thought you were with him. You had waited in the trees outside Rivendell's gates, for them. 

You hadn't know what was actually going on , or whether there would actually be a quest, but to your lucky there was. Not really lucky for Boromir though... soon enough Frodo and Gandalf had emerged along with 7 others.

You weren't noticed for a long time considering, Frodo's fault completely, when Frodo had fallen down the mountain in the snow, you had been hiding not so great in the snow, and of course Frodo landed facing you. While Aragorn had rushed back to Frodo, Frodo's face was laced with confusion as he stared at you.

"Y/n...?" Frodo had stood up, not realising he had dropped the ring, you rising with your backpack and coat one, with the snow littering your hair.  Aragorn had just stared too moving towards Frodo, carefully, the others travelling down to see what was going on.

"Oh, Frodo!  What are you doing here? I was just out to get some milk for my dinner." Standing calf deep in snow, freezing, yet your facing burning with embarrassment.

"I was wondering when you'd reveal yourself." Gandalf chuckling , of course he knew you were there, but what you didn't know was that Gollum had been not even three feet away from you..  Gandalf had turned back grabbing the ring from Boromir and launching it at Frodo, like he was Michael Jordan.

"Gandalf who is this?" Gimli of all of the fellowship had questioned you, he wasn't afraid to speak his mind.

"Y/n is my niece , now come along we don't have all day."

Thus, you were no longer a stalker , but part of the fellowship. Time had passed and you had lost your uncle, but it didn't feel right, you couldn't process his death, so you pretended he just slipped on some bread and was at home resting.

Soon enough you were all heading for Lothlórien, without realising it, you had stayed close to Legolas at this moment, mostly to bug him.

"If elves are so great, then how didn't you notice me? For all you know I could've been watching you pee, I wasn't but I could've been.  While you was sleeping I could've chopped your hair off and made a wig. Why do you look like your are apart of a dance routine? Why do you float? How does it feel to have a dick for a father?" Rambling on , you are surprised that Legolas doesn't whoop you, he could've, you wouldn't have been able to do much, you aren't the best person at defence.

You couldn't tell if you was annoying Legolas or not, but Gimli had kept smirking your way, as he stomped through the forest.

"Hey, Legolas? "

"Yes, y/n?" Legolas had sighed , he much preferred Gimli antics.

"Can I have a pitch?" But he had just stared at you, frowning, huffing you had walking around Legolas so you was next to Aragorn. Only for your ankle to roll, making you fall into Aragorn, it didn't necessarily hurt but. Aragorn had grabbed you and placed you back onto your feet.

"Um, Aragorn? You know you much better that Legolas..? Can I have a pitch?" You were undoubtedly attracted Aragorn, come on, he looks like a God. Fuck Thor. He didn't even answer just knelt down, allowing you to grip around his neck, and grab your calf's. Carrying on walking with ease.

Raising your eyebrows and smirking at Legolas behind you, he just never showed any emotion, except in that scene with Haldir , where he just smirks creepily in the background.

You weren't particularly close to anyone in the fellowship other than Frodo and Sam. But when Boromir died, yes it was sad, but where did the hobbits go? You had stayed close to Aragorn as he fought down the Uruk-hai as you hid in a tree. Before lifting you down, rushing to dying Boromir.

"They took the little ones,"

"Be still."

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

Kneeling next to Boromir, "The hobbits Aragorn, but we shall get them back." Boromir was too far gone to be saved, the wrong brother died sadly. Boromir eyes had met yours once more , as he smiled , before he finished his speech to his king.

After Boromir was sent home, the fellowship was down to just four, rushing after Merry and Pippin.  "We must hurry! The hobbits Aragorn!" Five minutes of running , and you were already getting a stitch.  This was no time for jokes.

Soon enough Gandalf was alive, and Aragorn was dead, as Théoden had lead you all to helms deep. You had seen Eowyn, oh how heartbroken she was after she found out Aragorn was dead, that bitch knew him for what five minutes, she was already grinding up on him.

You were witch, she was a princess, obviously Aragorn was going to prefer her. Soon enough Aragorn practically marching into helms deep, injured but alive , what's with all the faked deaths.

After Aragorn had done his big speech and everyone had left to get ready for war, you had stayed behind obviously, you didn't want to confront him in front of everyone. "Uh, Aragorn?" You were unsure of yourself, honestly, you can't have a crush on a king. You swear kings have bad hair, lucky Aragorn didn't , look at the British royal family.. now that's embarrassing.

Aragorn had turned Aragorn to face you, waiting for you to speak, he definitely didn't fall from heaven, the Valar decided to test him by shoving him off a cliff.

"Um, I was wondering if I c-could help with those wounds, um, I didn't know if you needed help?" You were sure that your face was probably flushed red, it would be surprising if he could even understand you , as you stumbled over your own words.

Aragorn had nodded , before sitting down near by.  Grabbing the king foil out of your bag , along with other healing herbs, Aragorn had removed his jacket and undone some of the buttons on his tunic. Bringing a stool in front of Aragorn for you to sit.  You weren't about to chew up the kings foil,  tearing it up before trying to gently apply it to the huge gash across his chest.

A small groan had emerged from his lips as you had placed a piece kings foil to the gash too harshly. "Sorry." Looking into Aragorn's bright eyes , for a spilt second before going back to gently placing the kings foil. Aragorn stops you , by grabbing your wrist , not with force, making you look back up at him.

"Do not be sorry, I just fell off a cliff, I've been through worse." A smile reassuring smile plant on his face, but you can only think what is worse than falling off a cliff.

"Okay, sorry, I mean I'm not sorry, you are very intelligent or a king, there's warg! Let's go fight our enemy on the edge of a cliff. Um, actually that's embarrassing because I fell down a well because a owl scared me, I was stuck down there for hours, and then Gandalf found me and used a bucket to get me out. I had to sit in the bucket while he pulled it up."

Aragorn had let go of your wrist , allowing you to continue as you spoke, "you have not changed."

"Pardon?" Aragorn was smiling down at you as your eyebrows scrunched together.

" Last week I saw leaf , hit you in the back of your neck, you jumped three feet in the air." Your face flushed again, as you tried to contain a smile, as Aragorn laughed at you.

"I did not, that was not a leaf, it was a snake!"

"A green round snake, I believe you , y/n" you had stopped applying the kings foil, to put your head between your nerves , to hide your face in embarrassment . "It was a deformed snake."

"Last month, you skidded in mud and fell flat on your back, when Legolas put his hand on your shoulder briefly. Or when you kicked Boromir's cock when he was try-" sitting back up to look at Aragorn.

"You are right, next time it will be you that I will kick." Aragorn could not have shut his legs quicker, making you laugh at him, "I'll have to start wearing a shield."

"Never know when I'll strike, your balls are going to be deformed." Aragorn had gasped at you, as you brought your hand other his wound beginning to heal him as you chanted quietly.

"Such foul language, Gandalf would not approve." Looking up to Aragorn with a small smile, placing your other hand on his shoulder softly, to stop him from moving.  Really the healing didn't take very long, the cut left a blood stain though.  "Stay there," (or you get unprofessional neutering.) Grabbing the water pouch from your bag, and piece of cloth.

Before returning to sit in front of Aragorn with the damp cloth, wiping off the dried blood gently.  You couldn't help but feel like you had done something good today, you got to heal ,clean an very attractive man stopping his wound from getting infected and him dying. 

Plus,he's Aragorn, who wouldn't want to touch his chest.   As you finished, you had look down for your pouch, only to see how blood his hands were. Lifting his hand up to examine it, no way you were a doctor. " How have you not gotten infection? All that Orc blood going into your open wounds." Again having to heal all the  little cuts and slices on his hands.

It was no secret to Aragorn that he had developed a like for you, from the moment Frodo saw you sticking out in the snow like a mole heap.

“Tis the best you are going to be, after this battle you will covered again. Legolas probably glide through here, any minute asking where his beloved is.” Both of you standing up, grabbing your bag, you had leant up to press a kiss to Aragorns cheek, before turning away to head to where the woman and children were, Gandalf’s orders.

Aragorn had stopped you again, by the shoulder, causing you to turn back around. “Y/n, thank you. May I ask for something else?” Aragorns eyes looking into your e/c ones

softly, you had nodded. “Would you accept me courtship?” You had just pressed your lips slow onto his before pulling away.

The door was quickly opened “ARAGORN!” Legolas glided into the room, rushing towards you and Aragorn. Sighing “your beloved is here,” Legolas was stood between both of you, you had to walk around him, to wrap your arms around Aragorn,briefly embracing, before pulling away.

Legolas just stared, “I’m not hugging you too, leg a less, that’s what your name would be if you had no legs, because your legs aragorn”

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

-

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

-

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

-

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

[kozutenshi]

he flashed a smile, one that mirrored the sun, as he takes you in his arms.

his warmth enveloped you comfortingly, his eyes roaming on your sniffing figure as he takes in the ring on your finger.

"i love you, kou."

the claps drowned and only your voice filled his ears as his own tears swarmed and fell down on his cheeks.

the lights were bright, and you can feel his tears on your top, a special one worn for your 5th anniversary date.

the night was filled with laughter, and you couldn't ask for anything better as your engagement.

his reply came in soft, piercingly genuine. it was just almost above a whisper, but it was loud enough.

"I love you too, n/n."

ISEM

— smile. :))))

— ngiti in Filipino.

— im pretty sure this isn't just something that Ilocanos believe, but smile is needed when communicating as long as it's applicable.

— something I can't do properly even after years of existence.

koutarou bokuto was a star. not just to you, to his sport, but to anyone he meets.

always dazzling, shining, standing out in the better side of things.

even if he wasn't much of a show off now, the ace turned heads wherever he went, greeting the young and old with a smile on his face.

how long has it been since you saw him like that with you?

his warmth had always comforted you, but somehow, in this one bed, he was out of your reach. it wasn't like he did something, no. it was the invisible distance that even with your hands intertwined, it feels like you're holding empty air.

but as you recalled how his smile didn't reach his ears a few months ago, and how his eyes slowly lost their sparks behind them, you nuzzled closer to him, suddenly getting a chill.

he woke up to your shifting, and as if on instinct, his arms wrapped around you. his golden eyes were half-open as he drank in your appearance, the bags under your eyes and the frown on your face. he pressed a kiss on your forehead, the silence thick, as you sighed and somehow melted in his arms.

"i'm sorry i woke you up."

the practiced smile on his face made you cringe. he was handsome, yes, but it wasn't genuine. "it's alright. what time is it?"

"it's still around five in the morning. go to sleep, kou. you were probably exhausted yesterday." he swallowed his guilt as you stroke his hair, a soft sad smile on your face. he knew you probably caught on his mistake; you were smarter after all. he was also an open book, and his guard lets down whenever it's you.

he knew he couldn't hide anything from you, and like how you used to even when you were just friends, you accepted him.

his light and the darkness of his night; you always opened your arms for him to fall into.

"i'm sorry, y/n."

you blinked at his statement, the words treading your emotions lightly and cautiously.

"for eating my cake yesterday?"

he shook his head, eliciting a small chuckle from him despite the situation. "no, but i am sorry for that."

he played with your hands and the rings on your finger. he had long given them, one on a night under the stars, and one under the grace of the flowers and the sun.

he remembered both your vows and somehow it trips him over even more, the way you had said that you'll always be patient for him, your eyes slowly going red as you finish your promise.

"and i promise i'll be there, always. aishiteru, kou. aishiteru."

it wasn't like the vows you exchanged had new words to his ears, or wasn't out of the ordinary. but somehow, he found himself crying that day, overwhelmed with the emotions you poured into the matter.

and now, in his rare day-off from the court, he reminisces the way your smile wasn't so sad.

"i'm sorry for breaking my vow."

you didn't expect that you'll be talking about the topic this way. you imagined that he'd come home one day, and tell you that the two of you isn't working anymore.

three years ago, you exchanged rings.

in front of everyone you treasured, every person the two of you valued, he promised only a few. however cliche, the same vows kept the two of you going, especially around the first year.

but as time passed by, it choked him.

it wasn't your fault. he probably was convincing himself too much that fulfilling such words would keep your garden of love blooming.

but this wasn't the spring he promised to you.

"i'm sorry i couldn't stay by your side."

as time passed by, he slowly drifted. did he lose interest on you? did he cling on you too much?

where did it go wrong?

the distance grew as his fame and career skyrocketed. as he continued to shine outside, the star dimmed as he steps into the now cold home, sometimes stumbling into the door drunk noisily, prompting you to wake up in ungodly hours.

and everyday you smiled at him, ever consistent, mumbling words of love to his ears.

his hold on you went tighter, his tears finally giving out. the shake of his shoulders made you freeze as you tried to move out of his arms. "stay."

the desperation in his voice was enough to crack you, letting your tears slowly fall down with his. they stained the cold sheets as you tried to stop them, however futile. he watched you try to move away from him before sighing.

cupping his face in your hands, you kissed his lips, the familiar warmth rising on his cheeks. it made him melt into your arms more, getting lost on the kiss, leaning to your touch. out of air he moved away, curiously licking his lips for a taste.

"salt."

moving out of his embrace, you wiped your own tears and giggled.

"we really have to work on us more."

you met his gold eyes, softening your features. it made him want to cry again, if not for the smile you flashed right after. "you also have to let me go if you aren't used to the taste of my tears."

you moved towards the edge of the bed, yawning. "what do you want for breakfast?" the man blinked at your question, his tears drying on his cheeks. "you're.. not leaving?"

"do you want me to?" you turned to him as he frantically shook his head. "that's not it!" he deflated a bit as he collected his thoughts. "i just thought.. with my mistake.. people leave commonly, you know? i don't.. i don't want you to.. though.." the blush and pout on his cheeks made you reach out to him and ruffle your hair.

"i already said we should work on this, kou. besides, i did say i'll always be there, remember?"

"yeah.. i do.."

"then, cheer up!"

a smile, the smile he always loved, blossomed on your lips. "i'm not going anywhere but the kitchen. so tell me what breakfast you want now."

and just like that, his first genuine smile around you had also made its way to his face as he tackles you into the bed easily.

"breakfast? hell naw, let's just sleep," he murmured, fondness evident in his smile. giving in, you tucked yourself closer to him, giggling as his breath fanned over your neck, before closing your eyes to enjoy his warmth.

TRAVELLERS: @doodleniella @kenmakodzu @lyzzklm @mfcassandra @oikaw-ugh @seijohlogy @thesecondapplepienation

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

3rd Person POV

The days creep by, and there is no doubt that Fluffy is still alive and well behind the locked door.

It is sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watches them turn a mouse into a snuffbox - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox is, but taken away if it still had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while Harry, Ron, and Hermione remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion, and when they finish, watch as (Y/n) practically sweats her whole body weight as she is instructed to make a Fire Protection Potion.

(Y/n) walks out of the Potions classroom an hour after everyone else and trudges up to lunch, her robes sticking to her. When (Y/n) slumps down at the table between Hermione and Harry, the other five look at her.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asks as (Y/n) grabs a peanut butter sandwich.

(Y/n) sighs. "Well, Snape didn't exactly say anything good or bad about it, so," she shrugs. "I could have failed or just achieved the highest grade of any first year ever." (Y/n) pulls a vial of blackish purple liquid out of the pocket of the robes. "I could set myself on fire and then drink it."

"Not a good idea, (Nickname)," Fred says, passing by and sitting across from her. "Everyone might not like you much, but you don't need to solve that problem by setting yourself on fire."

"For once, my brother's right," Ron says.

"If my potion worked, I wouldn't be setting myself on fire," (Y/n) points out, smiling for the first time in weeks, and everyone else seems to cheer up at the smile.

Over the last few weeks, (Y/n) and Harry had been trying to ignore the stabbing pains in their neck and head, respectively, which had been bothering them since (Y/n)'s trip into the forest. Neville thought Harry was having a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept begin woken by his old nightmare, except that is was now worse than ever because he was now seeing a hooded figure dripping blood in it that (Y/n) had described.

Maybe it is because they hadn't seen what (Y/n) had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their necks or foreheads, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and (Y/n). The idea of Voldemort clearly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying that they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam is History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invested self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful wee until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns tells them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry can't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," says Hermione as they join the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds.

"We didn't need to study the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or Elfric the Eager," (Y/n) adds.

The two always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron says this made him feel ill, so they wander down to the lake and flop under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan are tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which is basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighs happily, stretching out on the grass.

"You two could look more cheerful, (Y/n), Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet," Hermione adds.

Harry was rubbing his forehead, and (Y/n) had her hand pressed to her neck, rubbing slightly.

"I wish I knew what this means!" Harry bursts out angrily.

"Same, my scar keeps hurting," (Y/n) adds. "It's happened before, but not this often."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggests.

"We're not ill," retorts Harry. "I think it's a warning . . . it means danger's coming . . ."

Ron wouldn't get worked up, it's too hot, "Harry, (Y/n), relax. Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) interjects but Ron just continues.

"He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

(Y/n) nods, but she can't shake the lurking feeling that there is something she'd forgotten to do, something important. When she tries to explain this, Hermione says, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

(Y/n) is sure that the unsettling feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. She watches an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in it's beak. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluff . . . never . . . but -

(Y/n) suddenly jumps to her feet.

"Where are you going?" asks Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought," (Y/n) says and Hermione studies her sister, who's face had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" pants Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," says (Y/n), sprinting up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid want more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if they're against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, right? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" asks Ron, but (Y/n), sprinting across the grounds towards the forest, doesn't answer.

Hagrid is sitting in an armchair outside his house, his trousers and sleeves are rolled up, and he is shelling peas into a large bowl. "Hullo," he says, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," answers Ron, but (Y/n) cuts him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," answers Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off." He sees the six of them looking stunned and raises his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head —that's one o' the pubs down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

(Y/n) sinks down next to the bowl of peas, "What did you talk about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," replies Hagrid, frowning as he tries to remember."Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here. . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after . . . so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can'remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks. . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home. . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy. . . ."

"And did he — did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asks, trying to keep his voice calm

"Well — yeah — how many three-headed dogs d' yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep —" Hagrid suddenly looks horrified. "I shouldn't a told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey —where're yeh goin'?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and (Y/n) don't speak to each other until they come to a halt in the entrance hall, which seems very cold and gloomy after the warm, summery grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," says Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak - it might've been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They look around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him.

"We'll just have to —" Harry begins, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

What are you four doing inside?"

It is Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," says Hermione, rather bravely, the others think.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeat, as though it is a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallows - What now?

"It's sort of secret," he says, but he wishes at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flare.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she says coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" asks Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," says Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she is carrying tumble out of her arms, but she doesn't pick them up, so (Y/n) darts over, picks up the books, and silently holds them out to her head of house, but she doesn't take them.

"How do you know -?" McGonagall splutters.

"Professor, I think - I know - that Sn - that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk with Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall eyes him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she says finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor -"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she answers shortly. She takes the books from (Y/n). "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they don't.

"It's tonight," says Harry, once he is sure Professor McGonagall is out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasps softly, and the others wheel around.

Snape is standing there.

"Good afternoon," he says smoothly.

They stare at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he says, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were -" Harry begins, without any idea what he is going to say.

"You want to be more careful," says Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

(Y/n) flushes. They turn to go outside, but Snape calls them back.

"Be warned, Potter - any more nighttime wanderings and I personally make sure you are expelled," Snape then turns to (Y/n). "(L/n), come with me," he says and she nods.

Snape strides towards the dungeons and (Y/n) jogs after him.

Once in the Potions Master's office, Snape sits down at his desk, and gestures for (Y/n) to sit down across from him. (Y/n) sits down nervously as Snape opens a folder and slides it in front of her.

The Potions Master nods encouragingly, and then (Y/n) takes a hold of the folder, gazing down at the paper inside.

Name (Last, First): (L/n), (Y/n)

DOB: October 31st, 19879

Year: 1

Exam: Potions 1

Score: 327%

Next Class Recommendation: Potions 4

(Y/n) stares at the score, "How?"

"You automatically get an extra hundred percent added because you took a harder exam," Snape tells the girl.

"What about the other 127%?" (Y/n) asks doing quick math.

"It's for making a Third year level potion," Snape says.

"So next year I'll be taking Forth year Potions?" (Y/n) asks and Snape nods.

Then the Potions Master smiles, slightly unsettling (Y/n). "I've impressed by your performance this year, (Y/n)," Snape says. (Y/n) beams at the compliment from the teacher that never gave compliments. (Y/n) stands up to leave and when she gets to the door, Snape says something, "You look a lot like your parents, you know? You have your mother's eyes," (Y/n) turns around, a sad expression on her face.

"Nobody's ever told me that before," (Y/n) murmurs her eyes flashing silver, walking back to stand in front of her Professor's desk.

What the two didn't know was that Hermione was waiting outside the door, listening - not on purpose, of course - to the conversation.

(Y/n) sits down in the chair across from Snape and the Potions Master continues. "I was friends with your mother when she was at school." (Y/n) sits straighter in her chair, interest flickering in her eyes. "(M/n), she was a Gryffindor," (Y/n) smiles at the thought. "Even though they were from different houses, you could never separate the two. (M/n), she was best friends with Lily Evans, who married James Potter," (Y/n) could sense her Professor tense at Harry's father's name.

Snape, looking at the girl, notices her eyes slowly turning back to their brilliant emerald green.

"Your mother was a great Quidditch player, and excelled at Transfiguration. She was an amazing friends" Snape's voice turns wistful and (Y/n) studies her Professor with gentle eyes.

"Thank you for telling me about her, Professor," (Y/n) says.

"It was no problem," Snape says gently, he and (Y/n) standing up, (Y/n) grabbing the Potions Exam paper, and the two walk out of the classroom and are met by Thora and Hermione standing on either side of the door.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asks sharply.

"I came to wait for my sister," Hermione answers.

(Y/n) flashes her a questioning look before nodding to her Potion's Master.

Hermione walks slightly behind (Y/n) as they walk up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swings open and the duo walks in, Harry and Ron turning to look at them.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione wails from behind (Y/n); (Y/n) sits down on the arm of Harry's chair. "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so we said we were waiting for (Y/n). We don't know where Snape went."

(Y/n) groans in exasperation, "You really think it's still Snape?"

"Yep," Harry says.

"So, that's it then, isn't it?" (Y/n) says finally, as a stab of pain pulses through the scar on her neck.

The others stare at her. (Y/n) had turned pale and her eyes are glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first," (Y/n) says, a frown on her face.

"You're mad!" says Ron.

"You can't!" says Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"So what?" Harry shouts.

"Don't you understand?" (Y/n) asks, her voice softer, her gaze flickering silver. "If whoever gets the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over?" The others gaze at her, eyes wide. "There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it! Losing points doesn't matter anymore?If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to find somewhere else to go," catching Hermione's shocked glances, she continues, "I'm not letting anyone else I care about die for me." (Y/n) swallows thickly, "It's only dying a bit later than I would have. I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you can say is going to stop me!"

"I'm going too," Harry says and (Y/n)'s silver gaze shifts to him. "Voldemort killed my parents too." (Y/n)'s gaze softens.

"You're both right," Hermione says in a small voice.

"We'll use the Invisibility Cloak," says Harry.

"But will it cover all four of us?" asks Ron.

Harry turns to Ron. "All - all four of us?" Harry asks.

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" Ron asks.

"Of course not," says Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful . . ."

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," says Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me and (Y/n) in secret that we got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner, (Y/n), Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit apart from the other three in the common room. Nobody bothers them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to (Y/n) anymore, after all. This was the first night she hadn't been upset by it. (Y/n) darts upstairs, and pulls out the small trunk where she keeps extra potions. The only one she had was the fire protection, which she pockets into her hoodie, pocketing her wand and she straps small knife in a sheath on her left forearm, making sure her hoodie covered the sheath.

(Y/n) scampers downstairs and over to her three friends, who were standing around the Invisibility Cloak.

"We'd better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on it's own -"

"What are you doing?" comes a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appears from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looks as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," answers Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back.

Neville stares at their guilty faces.

"You're going out again," Neville realizes, looking into (Y/n)'s green eyes.

"No, no, no," says Hermione. "No, we're not. Why don't you go back to bed, Neville?"

Harry looks at the grandfather clock by the door. We couldn't afford to waste any more time, Harry thinks, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep.

"You can't go out again," Neville tells (Y/n), "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," says Harry, "this is important."

But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate. "I won't let you do it," he says, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll - I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron explodes, "get away from that hole and don't be an idiot—"

"Don't you call me an idiot!" retorts Neville. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," answers Ron in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

He takes a step forward and Neville drops Trevor the toad, who leaps out of sight."Go on then, try and hit me!" says Neville, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"

Harry turns to Hermione."Do something," he whines desperately.

But it's (Y/n) who reacts, drawing her Alder wood wand out of her pocket, "I'm sorry about this Neville." She raises her wand, "Petrificus Totalus." Neville's arms snap to his sides, and his legs spring together. His whole body rigid, he sways where he stands and then falls flat on his face, stiff as a board.

(Y/n) runs to turn him over. Neville's jaws are jammed together so he can't speak. Only his eyes are moving, looking at them in horror.

"What've you done to him?" Harry whispers.

"It's the full Body-Bind," says (Y/n) miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," says Harry.

"You'll understand later, Neville," says Ron as they step over him and pull on the Invisibility Cloak.

But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor doesn't feel like a very good omen.

In their nervous state, every statue's shadow looks like Filch, and every distant breath of wind sounds like Peeves swooping down on them.

At the fit of the first set of stairs, they spot Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispers in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climb carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turns her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They don't meet anyone else until they reach teh staircase up to the third floor. Peeves is bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" Peeves asks suddenly as they climb towards him. He narrows his wicked black eyes, "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?" He rises up in the air and floats there, squinting at them.

Harry has a sudden idea. "Peeves," he says, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost falls out of the air in shock. He catches himself in time and hovers about a foot off the stairs. "So sorry, you bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he says greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaks Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," says Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." And he scoots off.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispers Ron, an impressed look on (Y/n)'s face.

A few seconds later, they are there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door is already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry says quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

"It's not Snape," (Y/n) hisses, never feeling more correct after her talk with her Potions Master earlier.

But seeing the open door somehow seems to impress upon all four of them what is facing them. Underneath the Cloak, (Y/n) turns to the other three.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," she says softly. "You can take the Cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," says Ron.

"We're coming," insists Hermione.

Harry reaches over and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

As the door creaks, low, rumbling growls meet their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniff madly in their direction, even though it can't see them.

"What's that at it's feet?" Hermione asks in a soft whisper.

"Looks like a harp," replies Ron. "Snape must have left it there."

Deciding not to argue anymore about Snape, (Y/n) keeps her mouth shut.

Harry puts Hagrid's flute to his lips and blows. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note, the beast's eyes begin to droop. Harry hardly draws breath. Slowly, the dog's growls cease - it totters on its paws and falls to its knees, then it slumps on the ground, fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warns Harry as they slip out of the Cloak and creeps towards the trapdoor. They can feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as the approach the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," says Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!" Hermione snaps.

"I'll go first," (Y/n) whispers. She steps carefully over the dog's legs. She bends and pulls the ring of the trapdoor; the trapdoor swings up and open.

"What can you see?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop," (Y/n) whispers. She swings her legs into the trapdoor. She looks directly at Hermione, meeting her sister's gaze. "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, okay?"

Hermione nods, a flash of fear showing in her brown eyes.

"See you in a minute, I hope . . ." (Y/n) slides the rest of the way into the trapdoor and lets go. Cold, damp air rushes past her as she falls down, down, down and -

FLUMP. With a funny, muffled sort of thump, she lands on something soft. She sits up and feels around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It feels as though she is sitting on some soft of plant.

"It's okay!" she calls up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Ron and Harry follow right away. They land, sprawled next to (Y/n).

"What's this stuff?" are Ron's first words.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing," (Y/n) rasps. "I suppose it's here to break the fall."

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry calls as something snakes it's way up (Y/n)'s neck and (Y/n) tries to pull away, but whatever it was, tightens around her.

The distant music stops; there is a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped, landing on (Y/n)'s other side.

"We must be miles under the school," Hermione comments.

"Luck this plant thing's here," Ron says.

"Lucky!" shrieks Hermione. "Look at the three of you!" She leaps up and struggles towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist, snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing.

(Y/n) however, had the tendrils had wrapped around her neck and Hermione watches in horror as the three fight to pull the plant off themselves, but the more they strain against it, the tighter and faster the plant wounds around them.

"Stop moving!" Hermione orders them. "I know what this is - it's Devil's Snare!"

(Y/n), panicking, begins to strain more, and the Devil's Snare tightens around her chest. (Y/n) thrashes around in the plant's grasp and the Devil's Snare tightens painfully around her, the vial in her pocket pressing into her stomach, ready to shatter.

(Y/n) begins feeling faint from the loss of air, hears Ron bellow, "HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

A few seconds later, the three feel it loosening its grip as it cringes away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unravels itself from their bodies and they are able to pull free.

(Y/n)'s chest heaves as she regains her breath, Harry holding up her up.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," (Y/n) rasps.

"Yeah," adds Ron, "and lucky (Y/n) doesn't lose her head in a crisis - 'there's no wood,' honestly."

"Only my breath," (Y/n) jokes, once her breath completely returns, though the others could see the dark bruise beginning to form on her neck. "Right, this way," says (Y/n), pointing down a stone passageway, which is the only way forward.

All the four can hear, apart from their footsteps is the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passage way slopes downward, and Harry is reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembers the dragons said to be guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - Norbert had been bad enough . . .

"Can you hear something?" Ron asks in a soft whisper.

(Y/n) listens, hearing a soft rustling and clicking noise seeming to come from ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Harry wonders.

"I don't think so," (Y/n) answers. "It sounds like wings."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving," Hermione adds, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

They reach the end of the passageway and sees before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high them. It is full of small, jewel-bright things, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the room is a very heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" wonders Ron.

"Probably," answers Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other choice . . . I'll run." He takes a deep breath, covers his face with his arms, and sprints across the room. He expects to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happens. He reaches the door untouched, and he pulls on the handle, but it's locked.

Hermione and Ron follow but (Y/n) gazes up and around the chamber.

"Guys!" (Y/n) calls, her voice echoing around the room, and the other three turn to look at her. The three catch (Y/n) gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "They're not birds! They're keys - winged keys." Her emerald gaze studies the chamber again and she catches sight of three broomsticks. "We've got to catch the key to the door." (Y/n) jogs over to the door and studies the lock.

"But there are hundreds of them!" Ron exclaims.

"We're looking for a big, old fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle," (Y/n) says. "Probably has a crumpled wing," she murmurs. (Y/n), Ron, and Harry grab brooms and soar into the midst of the cloud of keys.

Not for nothing, though, was (Y/n) the youngest Seeker in a century. She had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, she notices a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole. "That one!" she calls. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side.

Ron goes speeding in the direction that (Y/n) is pointing, crashes into the ceiling, and almost falls of his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" (Y/n) calls, not taking her eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at it from above - Harry, stay below and stop it from going down - and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dives, Harry rocket's upward, the key dodges them both, and (Y/n) streaks after it; it speeds towards the wall, (Y/n) leans forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pins it to the stone with one hand. Ron, Harry, and Hermione's cheers echo around the high chamber.

They land quickly, and (Y/n) sprints for the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rams it into the lock and turns - it worked. The moment the lock had clicks open, the key takes flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" (Y/n) asks the other three, her hand on the door handle. They nod, and she pulls the door open.

The next chamber is so dark they can't see anything at all, so (Y/n) casts the Lumos charm, but then light floods the room to reveal an astonishing sight, (Y/n) extinguishing her wand light.

They are standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller then they area and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, across the chamber, are the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) shiver slightly - the towering white chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispers.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" says Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they can see another door.

"How?" asks Hermione nervously, (Y/n) placing a comforting on her friend's shoulder.

"I think," (Y/n) says, "we're going to have to be chessmen."

Ron walks over to a black knight and puts his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone springs to life, the horse pawing the ground and the knight turns his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?" Ron asks. The black knight nods and Ron turns to the other three. "This needs thinking about . . ." Ron mumbles. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces . . ." The three stay quiet, watching Ron think. Finally, he says, "Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of the three of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," says Harry quickly.

"Just tell us what to do," (Y/n) says gently.

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there, instead of that castle, (Y/n), you take that knight there."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be that other knight," answers Ron.

The chessmen seem to have been listening, because at these words both knights, a bishop, and a castle turn their backs on the white pieces and walk off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, (Y/n), and Hermione take.

"White always plays first in chess," says Ron, peering across the board. "Yes . . . look . . ."

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron starts to direct the black pieces, occasionally asking (Y/n) for advice, but mostly on his own, the pieces moving silently wherever he sent them.

Harry's knees are trembling, What if we lose?

"Harry - move diagonally four squares to the right."

The first real shock comes when their other bishop is taken. (Y/n) lets out a cry as the queen smashes the bishop - who was beside her - to the floor and drags him off the board, where he lies quite still, face down.

"Had to let that happen," explains Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you to take that bishop, (Y/n), go on."

Every time one of their pieces is lost, the white pieces show no mercy. Soon there is a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed that Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) were in danger. He himself darts around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," Ron mutters suddenly. "Let me think - let me think.

The white queen turns her blank face towards Ron.

"Yes . . ." says Ron softly, it's the only way . . . I've got to be taken."

"No!" Harry, (Y/n), and Hermione shout.

"That's chess," snaps Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron calls, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He steps forward, and the white queen pounces. She strikes Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashes to the floor - Hermione and (Y/n) scream but stay on their squares - the white queen drags Ron to one side. He looks as though he's been knocked out.

Shaking, Harry moves three spaces to the left.

The white king takes off his crown and throws it at Harry's feet. They had won. The chessmen part and bow, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and (Y/n) and Hermione charge through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he's - ?"

"He'll be alright," (Y/n) soothes, trying to convince herself, as well as Hermione.

"What do you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare," Hermione begins.

"Flitwick must've put charms on the keys and McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive," (Y/n) continues.

"That leaves Quirrell's and Snape's," Hermione finishes.

They had reached another door.

"All right?" (Y/n) whispers.

"Go on."

(Y/n) pushes it open, her wand drawn.

A disgusting smell fills their nostrils, making the three of them pull their robes over their noses. Eyes watering, they see, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they tackled, out cold with a blood lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispers as they step carefully over one of its massive legs.

"Tell me about it," (Y/n) mutters.

(Y/n) pulls open the next door, the three of them hardly daring to look at what comes next - but there is nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," Harry says. "What do we have to do?"

They step over the threshold and immediately, a fire springs up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shoot up in the doorway leading onward. They are trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seizes a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and (Y/n) look over her shoulder to read it:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle wine, Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione lets out a great sigh, and Harry, amazed, sees that she and (Y/n) are smiling, the very last thing he feels like doing.

"Brilliant," says Hermione.

"This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle," (Y/n) continues.

"A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever," Hermione adds.

"But so will we, won't we?" Harry asks nervously.

"Of course not," says Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper, and with our Potions expert."

"Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple," (Y/n) says, then pulls the vial of Fire Protection Potion out of her pocket. "And this. Who knows which fire this'll get us through."

"But how do we know which of the seven we can drink?" Harry asks his friends.

"Give us just a minute," Hermione says, exchanging a look with (Y/n).

The two read the paper several times. Then walk up and down the line of bottles, exchanging soft words and pointing to them. At last, Hermione claps her hands.

"Got it," (Y/n) says. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - towards the Stone."

Harry looks at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he says. "That's hardly one swallow."

They look at each other, (Y/n) fiddling with the top of the vial in her hand.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Harry asks and Hermione points to a rounded bottle at the end of the line.

(Y/n) walks over and uncorks her vial, studying it. It does look a lot like the smallest bottle's potion, (Y/n) thinks. She drains the little bottle in one gulp. She shivers, it felt like ice. She puts the empty bottle in her pocket and braces herself. She could see the black flames licking her body, but can't feel them. For a moment, all (Y/n) can see is nothing but dark fire, then, she's on the other side, in the last chamber.

There is already someone there - but it isn't Snape like the others though. It wasn't even Voldemort.

Word Count: 6766 words

[strongsassysexysloane]

Physical Touch

Jack Sloane X Reader: You're craving it, it's distracting you from work and she isn't helping at all. But maybe she can help however first she has to make you work for it.

. . .

Head scratches, massaging your hair, playing with your hair, these were all things you missed so much. Sometimes being single for so long really make your mind wonder to the smaller things about being in a relationship.

Sure the sex and kissing was always a plus but the intimate touches, invading personal space and the cuddling were almost better than sex most days. Maybe you just hadn't had really good sex in a while. A long while.

You laughed at yourself and pushed those thoughts out of your head and got back to zoning in on the report you were trying to finish for the last hour. This was the third tangent your mind had taken over the last hour. It had been a long day , longer than usual because you woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep. That ended with you being at work in the gym at around 04.30.

There was only one other person in there and you really shouldn't of been surprised about who it was. The one person you wouldn't mind getting head scratches from, hell you wouldn't mind having - you stopped yourself short of finishing that thought. It wasn't late enough and you were still in the office. Back to the gym, you knew she worked out before work and the NCIS gym was her go to. She was punching away at the bag too focused to notice you walk in. That gave you a moment to watch her, see her muscles work and the sweat drip slowly down her back. She was stunning and you needed to stop staring.

"y/n...Y/N!" Gibbs yelled.

You looked up at him from behind your computer, flushed from your memory. "Sorry boss. What do you need?" The memories of this morning still clouding your mind. You watched as he waved around a file so you got up and collected it before he replied or threw it at you. Flicking it open you knew exactly what he wanted, why was it always you? It's like he wanted to torture you.

Did he know what you were just thinking about?

No. Absolutely not. He would've kicked your ass if he did.

He raised a brow and you turned on the spot and headed towards Jack's office at high speed. You needed to clear your head of her in just a sports bra and low hanging track pants before you reached her office.

Was there a cold shower on the way?

There wasn't and you were already at her door and the image of her this morning hadn't budged. You knocked before entering, as her door was only ever shut if she was with someone.

It took a beat before, "Come in.." She called and there was a mumble of words before you opened the door. "Great timing! See you next w-time Sonya." She shook the older woman's hand and you made awkward eye contact with the woman from accounting as you entered and she exited, leaving the door open behind you. "Got those Dune files for me?"

"Direct from Gibbs eager fingers." You joked and handed them to her, she was sitting rather professionally on the couch which lead you to believe that last meeting was more professional than pleasure. "Was that-" You shook your head, it wasn't any of your business and she wouldn't tell you anyway.

"Smart woman." Jack smirked, not looking up from the file she had open in her lap. It took her about five seconds before she shifted and toed her heels off and crossed her legs on the couch.

"Much better." You laughed which got her attention.

" you making fun of me Agent l/n?" Her right brow was raised, her smirk daring you to play along with the devious look in her eye.

" Would I do that?" You were just out of her reach which was why she opted for throwing her pen at you instead of hitting you like she usually did when you were being a little playful shit. You caught the pen as it hit you in the middle of your chest with not too much force.

This only made you laugh harder but seeing her arm throw had your mind back in the gym again. You cleared your throat which was a mistake. " Something on your mind."

It wasn't a question, she knew there was. She probably could read you like a book right now which was why the next word out of your mouth was a huge mistake. "No." Said with so little conviction. Just like this morning when she caught you staring, more like drooling.

Jack was off her couch in an instant. She caressed your hand before taking her pen back. At least it felt like a caress, she always left lingering touches, maybe that's why you were craving them so much lately. She almost gave you enough to tease but never enough to satisfy.

Would there ever be enough to satisfy?

She was in your personal space since you didn't budge and you were both as stubborn as each other. That's probably why you were still in the friends borderlining on inappropriate office behaviour with the touches and flirtatious moments you two have on a daily basis.

You looked down at her hand, her fingers still brushing against yours. "You like to touch everyone or are you just teasing me?"

"I'm a very physical touch kind of person.." That smile that always left your stomach in knots curved her lips.

You tried so hard to to hide your disappointment, so hard.

"But..." Her fingers grazed up your wrist, probably felt your raging pulse, up your arm. "I enjoy touching you most."

You laughed at her sudden frown and scrunched up nose from how the words came out.

" That, that was meant to sound less disgusting and more.."

"Alluring? Teasing? Seductive?" You were mere centrermetres apart, her fingers wrapping around your wrist, she definitely felt your pulse now.

"All of those work." Her eyes darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

You swallowed watching her eyes, your tongue coming out to moisten your lips, they were suddenly dry. Her smirk, devilishly so back on her lips. "Jack..." You breathed, her eyes going soft.

"The way you say my name."

"Sloane.."

She shook her head, the soft smile playing at her lips. You had the same effect on her that she had on you, it was clear as day on her face right now. "What?"

"Kiss me or I may never get that report done downstairs."

She only moved forward slightly, teasingly so. "Something distracting you?" Her lips ghosting over yours.

You groaned and she grinned. "Only for the last year or so."

"That lo-" You couldn't wait any longer, she was practically kissing you anyway, you just added a little more pressure and crushed your lips together. As soon as you made contact with her lips she almost jumped you. Her hands grabbing your hips, crashing them together, your hands threading through her long blonde locks.

There was a pop when you pulled back, needing air and to come back to earth.

"You good at head massages?" Her hand coming up to where yours had been seconds ago. Her other hand still at your hip, her thumb drawing circles over your shirt.

"Only of you're good at back rubs?" You smiled, your fingers threading through her hair again, fingers massaging her head. She relaxed into your touch, closing her eyes.

"I'm the best at back rubs." She all but purred at your touch.

You pulled back, her eyes snapped open and you laughed at her little groan. "It's a date. My place in an hour?"

"I'll bring pizza and icecream."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this because you know how much I love our pizza and icecream nights but Jack, don't bother."

"Wow."

"You're more than enough." That got you another passionate, slow kiss with a very smooth butt squeeze which made you laugh and break the kiss.

"Get going otherwise our physical touch time will be delayed."

"Can't have that." You smirked, pecking her lips before skipping out of her office.

You finished that report in twenty minutes. Jack was in your arms in 45.

. . .

I kinda edited but not as much as I normally do so apologies if its, eh. :)

[sanababes]

It All Ends Here

Pairings: female kpop idols x fem!reader

Warnings: NEUTRAL (detective au)

-----------

PROFILE

• Name: Park Y/n (female)

• Age: 18

• Height: 5'8

• Bloodtype: A-

===

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

The sound of the clock almost lulled you to sleep. Exhaustion was finally taking a toll on your whole body due to the continuous murder cases for the past weeks. You and your teammates were sent to different crime scenes to assist the bureau, and especially to ensure the safety of the city of Seoul.

A sound of glass being placed on the table interrupted your eyelids from fully closing. You looked up to see your trusted partner, Major Song Yuqi. She chuckled at your vulnerable state then took a sit across you.

"It's pretty rare to see you that tired, Y/n." She mocked playfully.

You rolled your eyes out of annoyance and clearly, your day won't get any better.

"Yeah right,"

She gestured you to drink the liquid that she mainly prepared to ease your troubled mind. You casted a look of doubt to your mischievous friend before shrugging your shoulders and sipped on the hot tea. A delightful sigh came out from your mouth as the warm liquid rushed down on your throat.

"Damn, that's much better... Thanks, Yuqi." You smiled gently which made the latter feel contented.

"It's nothing, Lead Inspector."

"Oh! Today's finally the day we elect a new mayor! Who are you going to vote for?" She added while pacing around your room excitingly.

"Huh? I don't know yet..." You replied nonchalantly.

"Well I'm going for Kwon Boa, but don't tell chief though or he'd go spare!" You chuckled at your partner's antics.

Seoul is currently celebrating the election between the mayoral candidates – Choi Siwon (red party) and Kwon Boa (blue party). Both are socialites within the government, with Siwon being the current elected mayor and Boa's aspiring will to lead the city better.

Just then, the door of your office burst open. The two of you immediately rise up and greeted the Police Chief of Seoul, Kim Namjoon.

"There you are, Lead Inspector. I've been searching for you, "

"Speaking of the devil..." You heard Yuqi grumbling under her breath.

You stifled a laugh before welcoming the man inside.

"Well know that you found me, what is it that you want to say, Chief?" Your eyes glanced down to the i voted badge on his chest.

"I'm sure that you guys know that today is an important day! Keeping things secure is our top priority for now, that's why I came here. I want you to go check out the red party's offices because Mayor Siwon has expressed strong fears about the safety of his staffs and I don't want to leave anything to chance." He stated, but you're a little unsure with his sudden firm attitude.

"But chief I've been hoping that we'd be having a day off—"

Yuqi's whine was cut off when the chief yelled out.

"You can't seriously have hoped to be off duty on such a day, Major Song?! Now go and report to me as soon as your team is done patrolling!"

Eventually, you went to the lounge area of the officers with Yuqi tailing behind you and saw your other five teammates chilling without any worries.

"Guys! We'll be heading to the headquarters of the red party, please ready yourselves and we'll leave in a bit."

Sua, Jennie, Joy, Sana, and Miyeon groaned in unison as they struggled to follow your orders.

"Oh stop with the fuss, we are all tired here... Don't worry I'll try to book a week vacation for us." You offered.

Their faces instantly lit up at what you said, causing them to gear up hastily which made you snort.

《at Red party's Headquarters》

You and the girls stepped out from the van then walked up to the entrance of the building.

"Hey Y/n, have you noticed... how tense Chief is acting lately?" Jennie said as she clings to your right arm.

The others immediately agreed to what the older girl uttered.

"I know right, maybe the mayor is putting some kind of pressure on him. I hope it stops after the elections." Sana continued while swiftly wrapping her arm around you.

"We don't know anything about that yet, let's just wait and see."

You finally composed yourself, and as if it was planned, Mayor Siwon appeared with his bodyguards behind him.

"Inspector Y/n, I'm so glad that you girls are here!"

He shook hands with you and the girls looked at him with hidden disgust, unknown to your own oblivious demeanor.

"That goes the same for us, Mr. Choi." You smiled politely.

"Uhm since my headquarters are about to open in an hour or two, I want to make sure everything is safe for my staff's last day of work."

He motioned to come closer to the sealed doors before unlocking them one by one.

"Here, I've opened the doors for you. Please if you can just have a quick look inside, I'll feel safer." You and the girls reluctantly stepped inside the offices.

Your team began to part ways and started to look around the vast hall.

Not even a few seconds had passed, a loud shriek coming from Joy made you dash to her side.

"What's wro– oh shit!" Yuqi cursed as she saw what the latter was screaming about.

There in front of you and the other officers was a man sitting in one of the office chairs, unfortunately, he was shot to death.

"Oh my god! B-but how could this happen, and is that the rookie model, Kwon Jiyoung? What is h-he even doing here?" Joy stuttered due to the terrifying scene.

"I've never liked him at all since he's been involved with some drug scandal, but to die like that and be shot right between the eyes? Damn..." Sua sighed.

Just then, the mayor called out.

"Inspector, is everything alright?" His eyes went wide when he saw Jiyoung's dead body.

"Oh god, I-I swear I had nothing to do with this! I'm innocent and history will prove it!" He exclaimed while starting to walk backwards.

"Calm down, Mr. Choi. We're just going to need to talk to you since Jiyoung was shot in your headquarters, after all." You warned him with your raspy voice.

'Ughh, daddy~' The girls thought except for Yuqi.

( a/n: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

The mayor agreed and ushered you and your team to make it quick.

"Oh God, the press will surely crucify me once they knew about this. We need to do some damage control!"

After calming the man down, you added him to the profile list for being a possible suspect.

You told Jennie, Sana, and Joy to bring the victim's body to the morgue for an autopsy report. The rest are tasked to investigate the crime scene.

"Y/n! I found a receipt, this might be a clue." Miyeon said as you take a look on the faded paper.

It belonged to Jiyoung and it seems like he bought a drink at Lotte Hotel shortly before his death.

"Good job, maybe try checking the hotel after this search? You can bring Detective Jieun with you."

"Yes, Inspector!" She kissed your cheek before going back on finding clues or some fingerprints.

'Why are they so whipped for me...'

===

You and Yuqi are currently talking with the mayor in some private room within the Red party's offices. They are still some questions that Siwon needs to answer to give your team some information.

"Inspector, this cannot be happening! The journalists will have a field day with this if it goes out to the public!" He said and distress was evident on his face.

"I'm afraid that we cannot make this go all away, but I have already informed the Chief. I'm sure he'll keep this case confidential for a lotted time." Your partner reassured the man.

"I can't believe people would do this... Killing a man just to ruin my chances of being re-elected!"

Your brows furrowed at his statement.

"So you are claiming that you were framed?"

He reasoned that Kwon Jiyoung was an avid supporter of his campaign.

"I see, thank you for having time for us Mr. Mayor." You and Yuqi soon left the offices.

《back to Seoul Police Department》

The good news instantly came as the two of you arrived at the station. Coroner Kim Taeyeon reported that the victim was executed cleanly with an extremely precise shot. The killer seems to be right-handed due to the bullet trajectory and definitely knows how to handle a gun.

—————————————————

KILLER'S PROFILE

• handles guns

• right-handed

—————————————————

Meanwhile, Miyeon and Jieun just came back from investigating the lobby and bar of Lotte Hotel.

"Y/n, it's confirmed that Kwon Jiyoung came to the hotel shortly before his death. We also picked up a torn ticket, I'm sure it looks promising!" The detective said while handing you a clear zip bag which contains the clue.

"I see, let me try restore it in my office. I'll see you guys in a bit."

You sauntered towards your office and placed the torn pieces of the ticket on your table. You leaned one of your hands on the hard surface before starting to place the pieces together.

You're now down to the last part when someone back hugged you and nuzzled its face into the crook of your neck.

"Y/n~ let's cuddle~" Sana whined which made you chuckle.

"Now is not the time for that Sana-ssi, besides I just finished restoring the second clue." You showed her the finished product.

The girl snatched it from your hold before skimming through the details of the plane ticket. She also pushed you gently towards the table which made you sit on it, the latter smiled then placed herself on your lap.

"It says that this ticket was brought under Kwon Jiyoung's name. And this is a one-way ticket to Hawaii! Why he would even purchase such kind of trip?" Sana pouted as she turned her face towards you.

"You're right. As far as I know, Jiyoung's sole goal in life is to be a bona fide member of Seoul's exclusive luxury community. He'll never have left for some tropical islands..."

"The credit card number used to buy this ticket will help us understand everything! ...Oh no, it's badly printed... can you help decipher this for me Sana unnie?" You asked cutely.

"O-of course, I'll be done in no time!" You saw her blushing which made you smirk internally.

"Thanks, I really appreciate the help." You pressed a kiss on her forehead before leaving the latter flustered.

Your phone suddenly rang as you pressed answer, not even bothering to look at the name of the caller.

"Yah Park Y/n! We still need to have a chat with Kwon Boa, I'm barging in any second!" Yuqi exclaimed.

You groaned at her childish demeanor.

"I'll be back in an hour, please do your task okay?" You reminded Sana before finally meeting up with Yuqi.

===

《Seoul City Hall》

The press conference of the candidates just ended a few minutes ago, so you took it as an advantage and greeted the head of the blue party.

"Ah, Inspector Park! It's nice to see you, have you voted yet? After what happened today it seems like my victory tonight is almost ensured!" Boa expressed herself happily.

"Are you referring to Kwon Jiyoung's murder?" Yuqi asked as you watched the older woman in front.

"Hmm, I always had a hunch that the red party is populated with bloodthirsty maniacs. I mean making dreadful deeds just to advance their political agenda... Poor Mr. Kwon being shot at their own headquarters, now I'm sure that the citizens of Seoul will vote for me!"

"Anyways, my campaign has always been based on honesty and morals." The mayoral candidate stated.

You just sighed at her egocentric reply.

"I think that's all that we need to know for now, Mrs. Kwon. We'll keep in contact with you, just in case." You sent her a cold gaze before walking away with your partner.

Yuqi grumbled under her breath before draping her arms around your tall frame.

"These goddamn politicians are going to be the death of me..."

You chuckled on what she said.

"Same... Right now we only have two suspects."

"Yeah, we should close this case as soon as we can. By the way, Officer Chan told me that you should check your email soon. He said the mayor's staff sent you a video recording." Your partner explained.

You immediately grabbed your phone then opened your email.

1 unread inbox

You shared a meaningful glance with Yuqi before opening the said message.

A videotape is played which showed Kwon Boa sneaking into the Mayor's office, presumably right before Jiyoung was killed.

"I can't believe this! It's Mrs. Kwon! We should speak to her again right now–"

"Not so fast, Major Song." Chief Kim appeared with some of the SWAT officers behind him.

"Mrs. Kwon can wait, I want you two to go secure the stand where the election's winner will be announced."

"Huh? But Chief we can't lose time on finding–" you tried to argue, but as usual, you were cut off again.

"Finding Mr. Kwon's murderer is top-priority, but so is the election winner's safety! I'm counting on you Inspector Park, go talk to Boa and don't forget to check out the election stand on the way!"

You and your partner had no choice but to follow his orders instantly.

"Every goddamn time, he always cuts us off!" You whined childishly which is pretty rare.

After a few minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the wide podium. It has two large posters of each party which is hanged opposite to one another. The guest tables were pretty scattered in front of it due to the neglecting visitors who came to watch the awaited conference a while ago.

"Let's split up, you're with the tables then the podium is mine." You instructed Yuqi.

"Yes ma'am!"

The two of you then started to inspect the area thoroughly without missing a single spot. There were a few plant vases on the stage which didn't look suspicious until you saw one that looked a bit unkempt and the soil was disheveled too.

'Oh! Looks like our killer messed up a little, too bad for him...'

You wore your leather gloves before analyzing the vase carefully. It seems like someone previously dug up a hole and covered it carelessly. A smirk crept into your lips as you shoved your hand in the soil and began to try feel any possible foreign object.

"What are you doing?" You looked down to see your partner doubting your current efforts to find a lead.

"I'm searching for any clues? Duh..."

You suddenly felt a hard item and struggled to have a grip on it. After a few seconds of harsh pulling, you finally hauled a small garbage bag with something wrapped completely inside it.

"Look what I got~" you grinned playfully.

"How the fuck did you–"

"I'm going to bring this to the forensic team, have anything useful too?" You asked while stepping down the podium.

"Uh I got this hidden camera on one of the tissue holders, and then I saw this notebook on the floor. The page is torn so I think It looks suspicious so yeah,"

Yuqi handed the portable camera and ripped notebook to you. She also helped on putting all the clues inside your forensic kit whilst you called for Officer Wooseok to pick you up from the city hall.

"I called for Jennie and Joy to help you talk with Mrs. Kwon again, I'm sure you can handle it without me right? I'll go ahead to the station to get this stuff examined." You bid a goodbye to your partner and told her to wait for the other girls.

'Let's see if the fun starts from now on.'

Part 2 coming soon...

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

How was ittt? Its my first time writing with these kind of theme sooo yeah hihi 🐶

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I don't think I've told tumblr yet, somehow, but back in May I adopted two ADORABLE baby girls from a coworker and named them Peggy and Angie.

That's Angie on the left (with the gray nose) and Peggy on the right (with the white nose). Yes, that's about the only way to tell them apart. They're precious.

In their first weeks at their new home, they had several adventures...

* They crawled INSIDE THE WALL under the bathtub, and when my dad reached down to fish them out, Peggy actually ran AWAY from him. (That bathroom is mid-renovation, and the opening around the bathtub was immediately closed off. No further speulunking has occured.)

As to how we realized where they were? They were suspiciously quiet for several hours, until my dad goes to the bathroom and hears...bells. Tiny, jingling bells. Such as might be on the collars of the two tiny kittens you adopted not 48 hours previously. They weren't lying in their cat bed, they weren't tripping over his ankles, and they weren't hiding behind the toilet, so that left...the dark pit under the hollow of the bathtub, accessible where we'd taken down the wallboard around the shower for reno project that never got finished. Again, this opening was IMMEDIATELY closed off as soon as we fished the kittens out.

* While exploring along the back of the piano - which sits between two floor-to-almost-ceiling bookcases - Peggy fell into the small gap (that no one knew existed) between the wall and the back of the piano. My parents flipped out, because "OMG baby kitten just fell and we can't IMMEDIATELY reach her!" There was also a huge pile of books, more books, and other clutter in front of and on top of the piano/piano bench, so it took a minute to clear enough space to move the piano so she could get out. (I was at work during this.) Finally, she trots out, all innocent and unconcerned, like "that was fun! What's next?"

* Their favorite sleeping spot was behind our sofa in the living room. They'd disappear at night, two tiny gray shadows, and go still so you couldn't hear their bell collars, and we couldn't find them for HOURS. And then magically reappear, right as rain, in the morning when they wanted breakfast.

* So much wrestling. Wrestling everywhere. And racing. Oh man, the wild zoomies. Wait until 3am and you're woken up by Kitten NASCAR, interrupted by Wrestlemania, ON TOP OF YOU. I made the mistake of purchasing a brand new cat tree and placing it next to my bed, which rapidly became a favorite jumping/climbing perch. And bed, of course.

* Did I mention we have an adult cat? Leo is five years old, and he took a few weeks to warm up to his new sisters. Now he just wrestles them until they squeak whenever they annoy him, instead of hissing or walking away, which is actually progress. Also, he lets them cuddle him. <3 (If they lie still. Which they're both TERRIBLE at. But sometimes they get it right.)

* Also, they firmly believe that everything belongs to them, and everything is a kitten toy. This has led to some...difficulties.

* Have I mentioned that Angie loves to creep up and lick my face? Especially while I'm sleeping, or using my phone/nintendo switch? #1 fave kitten habit, right there. That and her incessant need for cuddles, combined with her inability to HOLD STILL for cuddles, makes her an A+ bed partner when I home late from work.

[officially-tonynat-shrine]

Anything You Sing

A/N: Ok, so this was originally an ask from @shamelessbookaddict so credit goes to her. The ask: Bicth just imagining singing good ol bollywood songs to peter; him not understanding a word but loving it anyway; bruce just smirking at you when you sing something romantic

So I decided to shift the fic here instead of directly answering the ask. So if at all I make a master list, this would be helpful :D also, here is the audio of the song I used, if you want to sing along! The singer is male and I haven't changed the few lines in the song indicating the gender of the singer in the fic. I wanted to stay as true to the song as possible!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Indian!reader

Summary: You confess your love by singing a song

Warnings: the word 'fuck' twice? // Words: idk man, I didn't count

••••

Peter was having a bad day. A very, very bad day. School was hectic. He had lots of homework pending due to night patrol (totally his fault, actually. And he knew it. So he couldn't blame anyone else). His sleep schedule was an absolute mess because he would stay up when ever he got the chance to finish off his projects and models. His attention span in classes was now that of a fucking squirrel on crack and he had gone to the principal's office twice already.

Just when he had thought that things couldn't get worse, he had dozed off in yet another Biology lecture. Usually, the teacher would let him off the hook because he was a bright student and could easily catch up. So Peter tended to doze off for a few minutes trying to complete eight hours of sleep in five minutes. But today, it was a very important lecture going on and the Ms. Mason had strictly informed the class that everybody had to be attentive. Of course, Peter had to doze off. Unfortunately, he had been caught. Ms. Mason's disapproving glare was enough for him to believe that he had committed the ultimate betrayal. He was now very close to the Avengers' Tower, and he had already mentally hit himself a hundred times.

Peter just hoped that for the love of God and everything Holy, you was there. You were the only other Avenger who was his age. Of course, there was also Shuri, his homegirl, but currently, she was miles away in Wakanda. The three of you always shared a close bond and he could only hope that his bond with you would be much closer. He was a blushing mess when it came to you.

He entered the Tower heading directly for the elevator when he heard your voice.

"Pete! Hey, Spidey! Wait up!"

He turned around to see you bounding towards him. You threw your arms around him bringing him into a tight hug. You had missed him. He could understand that by the way you stood so close to him, able to listen to his heart beat rise. He hugged you back with the same enthusiasm as yours. Unable to hold back a sigh, he snuggled his face deeper into your neck.

You stepped back- not leaving his arms, he noticed, blushing wildly- and asked him with furrowed brows, "What happened, Pete?"

He smiled at you, grateful that he had someone like you who could understand him so easily. God, sometimes he just wanted to take you in his arms and cuddle forever.

"Nothing. It's just that school is turning quite hectic now-a-days."

You studied him for a moment, eyes taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the weary, tired smile he gave you. His brown eyes, usually sparkling with delight and excitement, now held exhaustion.

"Okay, that's it. You and I are going upstairs to the common room and you are going to sleep on the couch. I know you won't sleep in your room. You'll probably start doing your homework. And no arguments!" You shut him down before he could protest. Dragging him into the elevator you asked FRIDAY to take you to the common room.

"(Y/N)."

"Hmm?"

"(Y/N)!!!!!"

"What Peter?" You snapped at him. It had been half an hour since you had forcefully made him go to sleep on the couch and fifteen minutes since he had started whining about how he was not feeling sleepy.

He was sprawled on the big, grey couch, and in the short span of thirty minutes had somehow managed get tangled in the pillows and cushions placed. His head was dangling from the corner of the couch as lay on his stomach, left hand on the ground supporting his body. His right hand was somewhere in between a pillow and his head and one leg was on the couch's headrest. It was certainly a view for you. You sat at the opposite end of the couch, the book you had brought with you long forgotten.

"You know I can't sleep anywhere other than my bed unless there is music."

He didn't know how he got the confidence. He had been contemplating about asking you to sing to him while he sleeps but was too scared to see how you would react. Perhaps it was his sleepiness which made him bolder, the lack of sleep affecting his control over his speech. But it had not completely taken over him. He tried to fight the urge to just spew out his feelings for you.

"Music? What kind of music do you want to hear?"

"Anything you sing."

Now he really wanted to slap himself. He had really gone and done that. This was worse than spewing out his feelings for you. Now he was never going to get to cuddle you because he was too sleep deprived to think before he said anything and you were gonna slap him across the face and walk away-

"Peter stop panicking. Peter! Are you okay?"

You were stunned when he had asked you to sing. You weren't expecting him to be this forward. You had your suspicions on whether or not he liked you but you never acted upon your feelings and the innate desire to just ask him out in the fear of being rejected. There had been instances when you thought that maybe he reciprocated your feelings but then he would say something and you would immediately start questioning yourself. So you stood in the sidelines, trying to get closer to him so that you can understand him, only to fall more for him. Now, here he was, panicking and shaking, about to fall from that goddamn couch, pillows and all, and you didn't know whether he was just sleepy or actually liked you. So much for understanding him.

"Look, I- I, (Y/N)-"

"If you want me to sing, I can." You smiled through your stupidity and tried to stop from strangling yourself with a rope.

His eyes lit up as he groggily pushed himself up from the other end of the couch and slid towards you.

"Thanks, (Y/N). You are the best." He replied, placing his head on your lap. Consequences be damned, he was already getting detention tomorrow. Might as well do this.

You stilled, trying to form coherent thoughts. Stumbling through your words, you finally relaxed and placed your hand on his head.

Running your fingers through his hair, you decided on the first song that came to your mind.

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Ms. (L/N)?"

"If anyone passes by and asks you to translate the song I'm about to sing, don't do it, please."

"Of course, ma'am."

"Also, can you play the instrumental for the song when I start singing? Keep the volume at minimum."

"Okay, Ms. (L/N)."

Peter snuggled into your lap as you cleared your throat.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara"

"Is that Hindi? What does it mean?" Peter asked sleepily.

You smiled at him. "Sleep, Petey."

FRIDAY started playing the instrumental.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara"

What did you mean to do, when you touched my heart so?

"Badala ye mausam, lage pyara jag saara"

The seasons changed, and the world seems beautiful!

"Chookar, mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

"Tu jo kahe jeevan bhar, tere liye mai gaaun"

If you say so, I'll sing for you for a lifetime.

"Tere liye mai gaaun"

I'll sing for you.

"Geet tere bolon pe, likhta chala jaaun"

I can keep on writing music from what you speak

"Likhta chala jaaun"

I can keep on writing...

"Mere geeton mei, tujhe dhoondhe jag saara"

In my songs, the world will search for you.

"Chookar mere mann ko, kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

You rocked him as you sang, his soft, content snores filling you with satisfaction. A smile made it's way on your face without you even realising it.

"Aaja tere aanchal ye, pyaar se mai bhar du"

Come, I'll fill your arms with love.

"Pyaar se mai bhar du"

I'll fill it with love.

"Khushiyan jahabhar ki, tujhko nazar kar du"

I'll gift you all the happiness in the world

"Tujhko nazar kar du"

I will gift you..

"Tu hi mera jeevan, tu hi jeene ka sahaara"

You are my life, you are my reason to live.

"Chookar mere mann ko kiya tumne kya ishara. Badala ye mausam, lage pyaara jag saara."

"Chookar mere mann ko kiya tumne kya ishara."

Closing your eyes, you smiled. Oh the things you would do to stop time at this very moment. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

"That was amazing."

You shrieked, not expecting anyone to be around. You turned, trying to see how many people heard you, groaning when you see almost all the Avengers.

"Why didn't you guys say anything?!" You whisper, trying not to disturb Peter who was sound asleep on your lap.

"Well, you were amazing. And we wouldn't want to awake Pete, now would we?" Tony answered.

"Okay, fair enough."

"What does that mean?"

You blanched. You had hoped this won't come up. You looked at Steve who had asked the question, face filled with confusion just like the rest of them. Of course, they were asking about the song's meaning. Something you'd rather eat shit than having to tell them.

"Nothing. It meant nothing. It's just a song I like." You lied, your tone firm with finality.

"Okay, if you won't answer, I'll ask FRIDAY. Hey, FRIDAY, what did the song that (Y/N) sang mean?"

You swore to God you had never felt so proud of yourself in that moment.

"Sorry, boss. But Ms. (L/N) has asked me to not translate it to anyone."

"What?! I'm the boss here, FRIDAY. Come on. You can't say no to me."

"Sorry, boss. Ms. (L/N) requested to not translate it to anyone. And you fall under that category."

Bucky snorted at Tony's appalled gasp. Nat was trying so hard not to laugh. Sam did not even bother to hide his laughter. Your smile widened, before it dropped. Bruce. Bruce was smiling directly at you. Fuck. He knew. Obviously, he knew. You begged for mercy, mouthing how grateful you will be if he could just shut his mouth and not tell anyone. He snorted before obliging. But you could see his gears turn. And you thought Bruce was the person who did not meddle in people's matters at all. You shook your head. You could talk to him later.

"Hey, doesn't Bruce know Hindi?"

"No!"