#I went to the mirror and looked at me and I was smiling unnaturally wide and then I woke uo

[phoenixthefurb]

I miss sentient marmaliser billboard. (context in the tags)

[linkemon]

Night in Sotenbori (Majima Goro x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

[ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴛᴇɴʙᴏʀɪ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴏꜱꜱ. ᴜɴꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴏꜱᴀᴋᴀ ʜᴀꜱ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ…

— Just a little further? — [Reader] waved the banknotes in front of the taxi driver.

The man reluctantly looked away from them and into the reflection of the car's center mirror.

— I won't get that close, I already said it — he sighed.

The girl snorted. She brought her knees together in a dignified manner and then got out.

A moonless night had no meaning in Sotenbori. The main street was lit up with lots of neon lights and a lot of lamps. This made the company not seem as shady as she had feared. She spotted women offering their charms in a few alleys and couples were unceremoniously making out on the street but otherwise she didn't notice anything unnatural.

She silently thought to the taxi driver. Since he was safely in the car, he could easily give her a ride right to the club. It would save time and nerves. Not to mention the foot pain.

She glanced at the low, black stilettos. They weren't good for escaping but anything else would make her stand out too much.

The low-cut red dress and sharp makeup served the same purpose. No one should realize that this is her first time in this part of Osaka. This way she could become an easy target.

She reached into her large purse to pull out a small mirror. She straightened a few loose strands of hair, calmed down internally and moved to the right.

Think about the bonus. You'll buy yourself something nice. All you need to do is get there.

[Reader] lasted as Yamashida-san's secretary the longest of all the candidates so far. Not everyone was desperate enough to keep this well-paid job. Some left due to stress and some died in mysterious circumstances due to grudges between the yakuza.

The deeper she went into the district, the darker it became.

She passed buildings one by one, looking for one in particular.

Richly dressed men would glance at her from time to time but she avoided eye contact with them.

The blue neon sign with the words Club Sunshine made the girl breathe a sigh of relief. She hadn't realized how tense she was until now.

She checked the folder with the contract and headed towards the club.

However, three men blocked her way. They looked about forty years old. They were dressed in expensive suits and their shirts had traces of lipstick on them. One of them walked with his tie loosened. The other two apparently lost theirs. They were each holding a bottle of wine and laughing loudly.

— Hey, lady, what's your name? — the drunkest man shouted, baring his golden teeth.

She tried to give them a wide berth. She tried to speed up but one of them managed to grab her wrist anyway.

— Let go — she growled.

The grip was strong for a man under the influence of alcohol.

She bent her attacker's finger as hard as she could. She was lucky his hand was bony. She was glad that she had completed her self-defense course. Although she wasn't the best in the group, it gave her some chance to escape.

— Where are you going? — Hands wrapped tightly around her waist.

[Reader] worked mechanically. Panic flooded her mind but the movements she had practiced with the instructor made themselves felt.

She dug the heel into the foot beneath her with all her strength and blindly aimed her elbow at what was probably a face.

— Fuck!

The hug loosened but someone pulled her hair. The pain was terrible. She fell onto the pavement with such force that she felt dizzy. The purse fell right next to her.

— Whore!

Three figures loomed over her with macabre smiles. She felt someone spat on her. Another person angrily threw a bottle on the ground. The glass shattered into pieces. She closed her eyes reflexively.

Think. Think. Think.

In a final act of desperation, she grabbed her purse and threw it with the last of her strength at the nearest attacker. He staggered and she stumbled in the opposite direction.

Her ears were ringing. The adrenaline slowly stopped flowing as she felt pain in her knees and hands. She glanced at it quickly, covered in blood and dirt. She must have torn them off when she fell. The high heels made her unable to run fast. The three were already catching up to her.

Suddenly, she was met with pressure around the corner. She would have fallen if someone hadn't held her up. She raised her head. A man with an eye patch over one eye was staring at her. The second one, brown, followed her curiously.

— H-help me — she whispered pleadingly.

— There you are, sweetie. Why running so hard? — The attacker roared with laughter and his colleagues followed his example.

The man with the blindfold sheltered the [Reader] behind his back.

— I don't think this lady wants to see you. — There was no hint of humor in the cold smile.

— Like that's any of your business. Get out of my way. I have control over the entire retail chain in the city. Who are you to give me orders?

— Shō-kun…— one of the partners began timidly.

— What again? — roared the irritated owner of the gold teeth.

— T-that's... that's Mad Dog of Shimano — he finished fearfully.

— Really. He looks like a mutt. — He cackled, holding his huge belly.

Only after a while did he realize what his friend meant.

— But... surely not THAT mad dog? — He looked away, looking for confirmation of his words.

To his horror, he was answered by two nods.

— Majima-sss-san — he swallowed — you're not mad, aren't you? — I was just joking...— he finished lamely.

— Of course. I will treat you to something special.

With a quick movement, he knocked the man on the right off his feet. He hit him right in the nose and blood flowed from it. It looked like it had been broken because it was tilted unnaturally.

The partner on the left tried to help his friend but he was not very successful. Goro dodged him and aimed a punch straight at the chest. He adjusted it further to make sure both opponents would lie still, then stood in front of the middle candidate.

— Cover your eyes. — He turned his head towards [Reader].

— Be careful! — the girl shouted at the sight of the man who took advantage of the opportunity and threw a punch.

Goro dodged.

— Well, well, well, Shō-san. It's very rude to attack by surprise like that. Have you covered your eyes yet? — he said to the [Reader] who was still standing behind him.

— Yes.

— All right. And now, as I promised, I will treat you to something special.

The sound of blows delivered by Majima reached the girl's ears. She tried her best to focus her thoughts on something else. So she silently counted down from one hundred, hoping that the fight would end quickly.

— You can open it. — Goro crouched down next to her, gently removing her hands from her face.

She blinked, blinded by the light of the lantern. She stood up on unsteady legs.

— Thank you for your help. — She bowed customarily.

She tried her best to keep her balance as she took off her high heels. Fortunately, Majima stuck by her making it easier.

— Could you... I mean... mister... — she trailed off.

— Goro-san — he suggested.

[Reader] was amazed. Rarely did anyone allow the use of their first name at the very beginning of their relationship.

— Goro-san, I'm looking for the manager of the Sunshine Club. Could you help me? I'm afraid I won't be able to find him in this condition.

He smiled enigmatically.

— I'm very curious as to how important the reason you were looking for me was. After all, you got yourself into quite a mess along the way. Well, we'll talk about it when we get there. I won't let such a beautiful girl bleed out here.

[Reader] still felt traumatized by what happened. However, she knew that Goro Majima was someone she wanted to trust.

— I hope we'll get to know each other better. She gave him a weak smile.

[arcadianmoonshadowjedi]

Rayllum Month July 11th: Dream/Nightmare

Went back to writing angst again 😅 Anywho…

TW: Body Horror, Corpse

Callum looked all around him weirdly finding himself in a place that he only thought he saw inside of a mirror. But now, he was on the other side of it, inside that prison. He walked around curiously, then went straight for the book shelves towards the back. He wanted answers more than anything on how he kept ending up here. As he ran his finger over the spines of the books, he was startled by a loud thud behind him. He quickly turned around only to find Rayla lying on the ground, eyes wide open and frozen in place.

Callum gasped and nearly fell against the bookshelf. He felt his heartbeats grow violently faster and his sweat covering his whole body.

“Rayla! No!” He screamed as he ran towards her. He knelt down and grabbed her cheeks, which felt cold in his hands. “Rayla!” He called again, but to no avail. “Rayla please! Say anything! Please,” he whimpered. He pulled her in her arms and held her limp body tightly as he sobbed. Suddenly Rayla’s body recoiled violently out of his arms causing him to jump back and exclaime in horror. After her body unnaturally writhed around, she suddenly froze. Her whole eyes slowly and gradually changed to black. Then suddenly her upper body thrusted up with her head dangling backwards. Still confused, Callum slowly walked towards her, something wasn’t right. Then suddenly, her head to thrust up in his direction and her eyes now shined in bright purple.

Callum screamed as he sat up in his bed. He held his face and panted, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. Thankfully, it was all just a dream. But sadly it wasn’t the first or only one of its kind. Last night, he had this same exact dream about Ezran. He’s had so many different dreams connected to Aaravos, especially of that one time he possessed him at the storm spire, and he knew for certain it wasn’t a coincidence. He got up from his bed and went to his desk. He sat down then opened his sketchbook to draw the prison from his nightmare when he heard a knock on his door.

“Callum?” He heard Rayla call, making him sigh in relief.

“Come in,” he replied as he continued sketching. The door creaked open and Rayla entered, walking over to him and peered at his drawing.

“Are you ok? I heard your screaming from my room again,”

Callum sighed and put his pencil down. He got up from his chair and walked with her to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know, Rayla,” he buried his face in his hands as Rayla put a comforting arm around him. “I keep having these dreams about Aaravos. And I’m just so scared he might be trying to control me again. Or that he might try to hurt the people I care about,”

Rayla stroked his back and looked at him with concern. His fear of Aaravos grew even more ever since they brought back his prison and came back to Katolis. And it didn’t help that he kept the prison in his room for safekeeping. Callum looked back up at her and continued.

“I know you told me I was the ‘Destiny’s a book you write yourself kind of guy’ and that no one can control me, but Aaravos, he was just too powerful. When he first took over my body, I tried so hard to fight it. But I just wasn’t strong enough. That’s why I asked you to,”

“Callum,” Rayla interrupted, holding his face between her palms. “I will not. If he possesses you again, we will not leave you, not this time. We will find a way to get you back. We will get through this together, I promise,” Rayla told him determinately and gave him a reassuring smile. She then looked towards the crystal ball that was kept safely on his desk and walked over to grab it. “Tell you what,” she started. “How about we try to keep his prison in a different place in the castle, you know, maybe that might help with the nightmares?”

“I don’t know, Rayla. I’m just worried about it potentially falling in the wrong hands,”

“We’ll find a place where only a very few of us would know, and we’ll keep it that way until we go on our journey to the Starscraper, ok? And we’ll keep checking to make sure it stays there. In fact, we can even go for a small walk for you to take your mind off of that nightmare and then maybe look for the right hiding place together?”

Callum nodded and got up from his bed to join her. A walk under the stars with Rayla and some fresh air would surely be enough to relieve him of his stresses and perhaps take his mind off of his guilt.

[thewatercolours]

King's Quest Fic: "The Fairy" (Goblin Graham, #12)

"Gwendolyn. What are you still doing in here? Didn't you hear the guards order everyone out? Can't you hear everything creaking?"

"Um - what? Sorry?"

"Something's wrong, cousin. The castle's shaking on its foundations. Has been since early morning. Something strange here, making it go unstable all of a sudden. You didn't notice? There's... Oh my stars. Gwendolyn! Did those bricks fall while you were in here?"

"Maybe? I didn't really notice. The mirror -"

"I know, I know, you were too busy watching the mirror. I mean, look! It's taken out a quarter of the ceiling? What would you have done if it had collapsed on your head? Look, we'll take the mirror with us, but we've got to get out! Did you even hear me?"

---

Perhaps it was the rich overground air, or the long hours spent escaping, or maybe the cold was more comfortable these days. Graham drifted off as easily as any sleeper could wish. As he blinked away his last moments of consciousness, he felt vaguely that he ought to toss and turn now that he’d been told of Manny and the goblins’ siege of the castle. Insomnia felt more responsible. But exhaustion smoothed his fears away before he could wake himself to make a plan. Three quarters asleep, he snuggled deep into his cloak between the roots of a burly yew. 

Mid-dream, something roused him. He rolled onto his right side, meaning to squint at the bedside clock in the castle’s royal chamber. Instead, he found himself eye to eye with a face, glowing blue as midwinter stars. The face giggled.

Untangling himself from the cloak, Graham yelped and scrambled to sit up, back against the tree.

The person before him was close to his own goblin size, and knelt to one side of him with a starry-eyed smile. Unnaturally lithe and dainty-featured she looked, just as he had always heard wood sprites described. He could not see much of her wings, but they appeared to be coolly golden and folded neatly behind her shoulders. Tittering musically, the fairy tapped the end of his nose with one shining finger, sending specks of light he could only just make out skittering over his skin. “Well, aren’t you the wee little goblin man! How precious!”  

Half awake and wholly thunderstruck, Graham could not choke a single word from his throat.

She took hold of his long ears. They twitched away reflexively, despite her gentleness. She laughed in gleeful surprise. “Awww! Did I make you flinch? I’ll be careful. You’ve got such big, swoopy, droopy ears, haven’t you? Yes you have, yes you have,” she crooned, reaching again to stroke them.

“Who are you?” whispered Graham, but his voice was even hoarser with sleep, almost nothing like speech. She did not seem to notice.

“A sleeeepy goblin, a tuckered out little goblin,” she went on, fondly rumpling his hair. Her hands were kind, but cool to the touch, even to his strange skin. And though it was hard to tell what she was doing, it appeared that every time she made contact, her hands glowed the brighter, just for a moment. “Oh, your pupils are so big right now! Great big eyes to see in the dark. What are you doing up here in the forest? A bit lost? Or were you just too dozy to crawl downstairs to your home? Are you a tiny bit scared?” she asked as Graham made another attempt to speak up. “Don’t be frightened, little friend. I know something that might make you happy.” She spread her luminous golden wings wide, and flapped them so that gleaming dust dropped in their wake. Her grin grew broader. “See that? I’m a fairy! Yes, you know all about us, don’t you? From your games?”

Graham straightened up where he sat, and cleared his throat pointedly. “For your information -”

Enraptured, she paid no heed. “Just look at you, though.Your little tummy, and your nubby little fangs, and those little pink… freckles…” A suspicious look flashed across her face. She poked an interrogative finger at his chin and cheekbones, considerably less gently. “Not freckles,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. “You, good sir, have holes in your skin. Or growths, maybe. That’s human flesh, that is.” She sounded positively disgusted. “Or possibly mould. Comes to much the same thing.”

He had never demanded this of anyone, but enough was enough. “You,” said Graham firmly, “will call me ‘Your Majesty.’”

The fairy leaned back, looking him over from tuft to toe. She still smiled, but her merriment had changed to mockery. “‘Your majesty,’ eh?” she drawled. “A little king, eh? Look here. I happen to know the goblin king, and you ain’t him, sugarplum.”

“I’ve met him too,” said Graham with dignity, squaring his narrow shoulders. “I am the King of Daventry.”

A flicker of doubt passed over her, but she regained herself a moment later. “I don’t keep up much with politics, but even I know the king of Daventry is your standard, garden-variety human. Now, you,” she leaned in again and began connecting the dots on his face with her finger, “are just a goblin with human pimples. Ugh! They’re warm!”

He brushed her arm aside, frowning. “Look, I don’t particularly care if you believe me,” he said, mind whirring, “but if you don’t quit touching my face…” What could he say? “… you’re gonna be going home with spots yourself.”

The fairy recoiled, and turned from blue to something slightly closer to violet. “It’s catching?” she shrieked.

“Like a fishing line,” said Graham brightly. “Take the warning where I didn’t.”

The fairy backed off further and rubbed her hands off her sides, but there still seemed something unconvinced in her. “You’re very well-spoken for a goblin,” she said slowly. “Why did you say you’re the King of Daventry?”

“Because I am. I’m under a spell of sorts.”

“A spell. Oho.” She stroked her chin. “Well, that’s easier to check up on, isn’t it? All right, cupcake, on your feet.”  

“Oh, but my -”

Graham’s body parted ways with the forest floor. He rose three feet into the air, and tilted into a standing position despite himself. His dark hair billowed out as though he were underwater. Even his clothing did not drape in the ordinary way. His green wrists stuck out of his sleeve cuffs without the fabric touching them. His satin-trimmed cloak followed his trajectory up into the air, and then wandered gently and randomly like cream on a hot drink. “Hey!” he cried, throwing himself forward, hoping he could dive back to the ground. But he only found himself turning the slowest of slow-motion somersaults in the air. Head over heels he spun, groping for anything solid, but the fairy had lifted him into the middle of the clearing. Nothing met his grasp.

As he turned right way up, he came face to face with the fairy. She tapped his nose again, with just enough force that he lost momentum and didn’t fall into another somersault. “You know you go cross-eyed when I boop your nose?” She crossed her own eyes exaggeratedly. “Adorbs.”

He had no intention of using his claws on her, but this couldn’t go on. He glared and held up a warning finger. “I’m gonna have to ask you to put me down right this second, or this is going to be a diplomatic incident under Daventry Decree 90983.”  

“Yes, yes, that sounds fun. But now, let’s have a better look at you.” She twirled her finger playfully.

A mellow warmth kindled in Graham’s core, kind as hot soup and a blanket when you’ve just come in from the cold. It fanned out through him to the tips of his overlong toes and gnarled, spindly fingers. His eyes widened in shock, and he gasped. Gentle as fog melting off a window, his claws flattened and pulled back into themselves, and his fingertips softened into tender pink skin. 

The forest quieted. His vision dimmed, and the luminescent greens and purples of the night faded into a largely detail-less darkness.

Then he found himself laughing giddily as he changed and changed. He could hardly see a thing, but oh stars, could he feel it! He threw out his arms above his head as though he had just woken up, and stretched. Never had it felt so rewarding, for his arms actually stretched along with him. He could feel his spine and legs doing the same as that warmth spread through every inch of him. Meanwhile, his hands and bare feet shrank, growing less supple but so wonderfully familiar. And yet, remarkable in their unfamiliarity too. He flexed his goblin hand, and then his human hand, which hadn’t deserved that name in so long, marvelling at how new the sensation of closing his own fingers felt after only a few weeks. It all seemed so much more real than anything had since his transformation began. There was a clarity and quickness in his head that made him wonder how much his mind had been damped till now.

And his face, his face which he hardly ever dared touch, thawed into its true self. He ran his fine fingers over his great big nose, his cheeks, his eyelashes.  He knew every line. His fingers came away from his eyes wet with tears. He couldn’t help but smile through them, a smile full of the greatest gratitude he had known in his life. “Thank you,” he murmured, turning to the fairy, hardly able to see her through the mist in his eyes. “Thank you!”

His real voice.

She nodded, smiling wryly. “Well, I guess you are human.” Casually, she snapped her fingers.

Almost instantly, Graham’s whole body reverted. His arms and legs snapped back like stretchy putty released, and he lost half his height. His skin shuddered, rippling and goosebumping. The sensation was something like plunging into a freezing pool through a layer of algae. The warmth inside him extinguished. Then green, and claws, and long, floppy ears flattening against his neck. He plopped to the ground, landing gracelessly on his bottom. 

He hardly processed the jolt his ankle took when he made impact, or the forest’s restored brightness. She had turned him back. Back into a goblin. “What?” he growled, rounding on her and shaking with sudden fury. “Didn’t you see? Couldn’t you tell? I wanted to be myself again! I thought you were helping me!”

“Aww,” the fairy jeered, crouching down to the ground with him and tilting her head to one side. “Are we having a tantrum? Is that the king or the goblin side coming out, I wonder?”

“Turn me back,” he said sternly, stumbling to his feet. “I need to be human. My kingdom’s under attack as we speak. They need me.”

She rose and patted his cheek. Her touch only made him aware that his skin had curdled again. “Take it from me,” she said. “As a human, you’re not much to write home about. Better stick with the twitchy ears, little guy. You’re cute as a button.”

With a surge of ferocity, Graham snarled and shoved her backward. She squeaked and tripped over her own feet into a tall patch of bracken. He started forward angrily, unsure of anything but that he would make her understand the gravity of his situation. But with its customary unfortunate timing, his ankle buckled, and he sank to one knee, wincing and sucking his teeth to keep from snarling further. The voice of reason surfaced. Keep your head. Don’t give in to that side. Anything but that.

The fairy sat up and stared, her jaw hanging open. “Oh. Oh. Did I do that?” There was a long pause as they pulled themselves together. Then the first note of sympathy since her realization that he was human entered her voice. “I see you have a bad foot. Do you… do you want me to put you back up in the air a while longer?” “I’m fine. I’ll just sit down,” said Graham, leveling his voice and grabbing at a branch to support himself. He nearly pitched over. It was a flimsy evergreen, and it wobbled in his hand.

The fairy chewed her lip uncomfortably, and her hands glowed again, though he hadn’t seen her touch anything. “Okay.” 

In a moment, he was steady again. The same unseen power carried his legs out from under him. “None of that now!” he shouted, but he need not have worried. The magic set him down carefully in a seated position, propped up against a generous oak, and his foot elevated on a mossy stone.  

She settled herself on the farthest side of the clearing from him, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t like seeing a little goblin hurting,” she mumbled, hanging her head and sounding a bit ashamed. “Even if they’re actually a human king.” She spoke more slowly. “I won’t touch your foot if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to make this better, if you’ll let me. I mean, not magically. But I could find food, or a change of bandages, or something.”

Graham took a deep breath, and pushed away the sneering, angry remarks he could have made. “I… am grateful you want to help me,” he said carefully. “But you would help me and my people a lot more if you worried less about my foot and more about the spell I’m under. You’ve already shown me it’s easy for you to break it. So…”

Yet again, she interrupted him, twiddling her thumbs and shaking her head with a doleful smile. “I think you’ve jumped to conclusions here, um… What’s your name?”

“Graham.”

“Graham. Mine’s Orri. Yeah. So, I didn’t break any spell just now. I just took a quick peek at your real form. It’s a pretty basic magical maneuver, and it doesn’t actually change anything.”

“Well, it certainly felt real,” Graham said, rubbing his ears.

“I guess it would. But it would have undone itself in a few seconds anyway. It’s just a peeling back of the magic for a moment to get a glimpse. It’s not a transformation.” Orri looked up and met his gaze with a disheartened shrug. “I couldn’t turn you into a human if I wanted to - not without a wish, and those are, um, pretty serious.”

“A wish?” Graham stiffened, and he stared at her fixedly. “You mean you could grant a wish?”

Orri heaved a sigh that was more sincere than anything she had said thus far. “Full truth here for a second? I’ve never done wishes before, exactly. Humans aren’t really my thing, if you couldn’t guess. I mean, technically I could probably do it. But it’s messy. Messy for you, messy for me. And give me another ten minutes and I won’t feel so bad about hurting your foot, and I’ll just be mad at you again for not being a real goblin.” 

Something crinkled in the corner of her eye. A new light came over her features, literally, and traveled all the way to the ends of her hair. “I mean, I suppose I could make you into a real goblin. That’s loads easier than going the other way ‘round, and it wouldn’t take a wish!” Orri's enthusiasm grew with every word. She practically bounced up and down where she sat.“Oh man. Oh man, I could totally handle that! We’ll just sand down your mind a bit, make a few simplifications …”

“Oh, no, no! That won’t be necessary,” stammered Graham. He forced himself to stay calm, trying to pull her back to her more collected state. “Er, ouch, my foot, my poor foot!”

But Orri  was back in full swing, already leaping into his personal space again. “Oh Graham, that would solve everything! Just a few tweaks in that little head of yours, and no more sad king. Your mother taught you all your nursery rhymes and fairy tales when you were a boy, I hope?”

“M-my sister, actually,  but that’s -”

“Then you’re ready! You’d be so happy. I mean, you could still be a little grumpypants if you wanted to. It’s not like they don’t get mad sometimes. But most of the time, they just act out stories, and make costumes and stuff. Not a care in the world.” Her fingers began to glow an intense white, and she wiggled them playfully in his direction. “Why don’t you just give me your hands, and I can - ”

In spite of his resolve to stay even-keeled, Graham started crawling backwards, crab style, trying to put the oak between himself and Orri. “Oh, I’m sure being a goblin is a real barrel of laughs, but um, I can probably help my kingdom better with my mind intact. So let’s just reroute and-” 

He cried out as she leapt, making a deft grab for his hand. Even before they made contact he could feel power surging from her fingertips like static, connecting with his.  Something vital in him wanted to grab hold of her hand and draw that energy in. But he wrenched himself away in a side roll, panting nervously as he came to a halt lying on his front. He tucked his hands under his stomach as she fluttered down beside him, the blue-white of her skin more intense than the fullest moon. Again, the instinct to use his claws came, but not only would that set him further down the goblinification track, probably, it would only give her access to his hands.

She clicked her tongue consolingly. “You know, little friend, your mind’s already changing to match your body. I took a peek at what you really are, remember?  You don’t have a duty anymore. That’s for humans. You couldn’t help your kingdom for much longer, anyway. Just give me your hands now. It’s just the human side of you being stubborn.” She prodded his side with her foot.

Graham swallowed and dug his fingertips into the patch of soft earth beneath him. “But if I can help them even for a bit, I’ve got to go for it. You said you technically could grant wishes. Can’t we try that first? Nothing to lose, right?” This felt utterly ridiculous, to fight a fairy by lying flat on the ground. But what choice did he have? To this overenthusiastic sprite, he was more or less just a cuddly puppy who was going to the vet’s, whatever he might think about the matter. What would he do if she flew him up in the air again, and he couldn’t hide his hands anymore? Play the world’s highest stakes game of ninja slap until she caught him?

Orri hunched over, and whispered in his enormous ear. “Graham, I don’t have ideas I can be proud of very often,” she said, almost confidingly.  “Just let me have this.” Then she seized his ear, and twisted it where it attached to his head.

“Augh!” It was more than he could stand. He didn’t have much understanding of goblin biology, but he did know that twist was about ten times more painful than he would have expected. Before he could think, he pawed wildly to yank his ear out of her reach, to pry her fingers free.

Her hand clasped his. She didn’t seem to care about the claws. She just held on tight, and twined her fingers through his. He felt the magic lock on to him.

Graham’s thoughts windchimed off each other, too fleeting to follow. His head grew light. She pulled him to his feet. The ground seemed to shake underfoot, but all that felt faraway. Everything outside himself was irrelevant, because it felt like his mind was turning inside out. Something surfaced in his head. Something dauntingly clever and complicated and warm and royal red, and everything in him knew it didn’t belong here in his head. He had to get rid of it now before it could struggle. But it hung on awfully hard as he tried to reject it. But here was something else, edging it out, filling his mind. Yes. Something. Pushing it out for him. Something… good. Something yes. Yes, yes. Something something something rum-tee-tum-tee-tum, yes yes yes. Oho, filling up the corners. Hehehehehehehehe! Yes yes yes!

And then ow! Ow! Hand gone. No more hand! No more yes! Rage! Not fair! Ow! Whack you! Whack you! Someone grabbing. Someone pulling him away. No more magic. Turning it all outside in again. Everything spilling over again. Maybe a touch of nausea - in his mind? If that made sense? Nothing made sense, but it was coming back. His feet weren’t touching the ground, but neither was he floating this time. There were huge, pudgy arms lifting him up. No, not arms. Gigantic fingers. 

Clarity shot through him. Olfie had him in his careful grasp, and the forest clearing below was a good twenty feet beneath him. Even with dark vision, Graham couldn’t see Orri anywhere. He craned his head back to look up at the bridge troll’s honest, hideous face. “Olfie!” he cried, overwhelmed with relief. “Oh, Olfie!” Olfie smiled, not without concern, lifting him up to look at him straight on. “You okay, King Goosie? Saw you were havin’ some fairy trouble down there. Did she try something?”

“No, I’m good.” Graham said, his chest still tense with stress but trying to let it go. His head bobbled on his neck and the world swam a bit, but fixing his eyes on Olfie’s face gave him a point of reference to stabilize from. “I think you didn’t arrive a moment too soon, though! Is she - did you see where she went?”

“Disappeared as soon as I got a hold on you.”

“Praise the consultations.” Graham muttered as Olfie propped him up in his palm. “I mean the consolati- no, the constellations. Sorry. She tried to mess with my head, and I might still be coming back from it.”

Olfie nodded, about as sagely as a troll could. “Gotta watch out for them. Always pulling tricks. One time they got Pillare thinking she was croissant, and you don’t want to hear how that went down at the meeting. Glad it’s all okay for you. So, I went and got them like you said. You ready for this?”

Graham tried to collect his disoriented thoughts. “You went and got who, now?”

“You told me to get them,” said Olfie. And before Graham could ask any further questions, the troll brought his two hands together - the palm where Graham leaned against his fingers, and the other - where to Graham’s astonishment, sat two of his royal guards, cross-legged in full uniform. Numbers One and Two. 

Number One gasped.

[iwonderwh0]

(I forgot that this post exists, I finished this book a while back)

Btw, @kishavo (I'm gonna tag you cuz I wanna share it and you're the reason I got into it) reading another Chandler's novel (The High Window) and once again the wording of things and the overall comedic value of it is killing me.

Here's some favourites:

"My asthma," she said carelessly. "I drink this wine as medicine. That's why I'm not offering you any."

I swung a leg over my knee. I hoped that wouldn't hurt her asthma.

——————————

..a carpet that was just something on the floor, and two open windows with net curtains that puckered in and out like the lips of a toothless old man sleeping.

——————————

"Marlowe," he said, even more earnestly, "I'll try hard, but I don't think I am going to like you."

"I'm screaming," I said. "With rage and pain."

——————————

He fussed around in the chair, trying to get comfortable. A lot of people had tried to get comfortable in that chair. I ought to try it myself sometime.

——————————

"Your powers of observation startle me," I said

——————————

He looked as if he had been sitting there since the Civil War and had come out of that badly.

——————————

He looked like a man who could be trusted with a secret—if it was his own secret.

——————————

"...For this my charge is five dollars."

"And suppose I don't pay it," I said.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. A very faint smile twitched at the corners of his lips. "You will pay it," he said.

I paid it. I took the five out of my wallet and got up to lean over the desk and spread it out right in front of him, carefully. I stroked the bill with my fingertips, as if it was a kitten.

——————————

He didn't say anything. We just stared at each other, half curious, half hostile, like new neighbors.

——————————

In and around the old houses there are flyblown restaurants and Italian fruitstands and cheap apartment houses and little candy stores where you can buy even nastier things than their candy.

——————————

His ears were large and might have flapped in a high wind. He had a long nose that would be into things. The whole face was a trained face, a face that would know how to keep a secret, a face that held the effortless composure of a corpse in the morgue.

——————————

Below his eyes across the top of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose there was a wide path of freckles, like a mine field on a war map.

——————————

He looked up, surprised. The girls at the pinball machine looked at me, surprised. I went over and looked at myself in the mirror behind the counter. I looked surprised.

——————————

"I don't like peepers," Morny said.

I shrugged.

"I don't like them for a lot of reasons," he said. "I don't like them in any way or at any time. I don't like them when they bother my friends. I don't like them when they bust in on my wife."

I didn't say anything.

"I don't like them when they question my driver or when they get tough with my guests," he said.

I didn't say anything.

"In short," he said. "I just don't like them."

"I'm beginning to get what you mean," I said.

——————————

"You boys are as cute as a couple of lost golf balls," I said. "How in the world do you do it?"

——————————

"I just thought of what is the matter with policemen's dialogue."

"What?"

"They think every line is a punch line."

——————————

I nodded. "Mr. Grandy, could you use a five dollar bill—not as a bribe in any sense, but as a token of esteem from a sincere friend?"

"Son, I could use a five dollar bill so rough Abe Lincoln's whiskers would be all lathered up with sweat."

I gave him one. I looked at it before I passed it over. It was Lincoln on the five, all right.

——————————

He nodded and was gone. The unnatural brightness of his smile seemed to linger in the air after the door closed, like the smile of the Cheshire Cat.

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

Yeah I'll probably read some more of his novels, I think they're really funny. Thank you for introducing them to me xd

[mcu-romanoff]

Sitting on the Floor Babygirl? pt. 3

Link to Pt. 1 Sitting on the Floor Babygirl? Pt 1

Link to Pt. 2 Sitting on the Floor Babygirl? Pt 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Pure fluff as you get picked up for your date with Wanda and Natasha

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, flirting

A/N: Hii!! I know its been like 4 months but here is part 3!!! Its just pure fluff because I was having too much fun writing the fluff that I never got to the actual date. But the date will be in part 4!! Also if anyone wants to be tagged in the next part please let me know, i'm going to make a list! I hope everyone enjoys this part and is doing good!! @wandamaximoffbae

"Oh god, what were you doing!" you thought as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Looking over your outfit, you were still unsure if you were wearing something that Nat and Wanda would like and was appropriate for wherever they were taking you. It was the nicest outfit you owned, and you thought it looked good, but you wanted Wanda and Nat to think you did too. You walked over to your bed and collapsed onto it. How were you supposed to get through a date with the two hottest and sweetest women you had ever known. You were going to combust, and you hadn't even seen them yet. When you had left them a couple of hours before to take your exam, they had each hugged and kissed you as they wished you luck on the exam. You had, in fact, done great on the exam, which had defiantly been helped by Wanda and Nat quizzing you earlier. 

You were interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. Oh no, you thought, that's them. 

"Just a second," you called out. 

A muffled "take your time, sweets" could be heard from the other side. No doubt Wanda's voice. 

You got up from the bed and smoothed your outfit nervously. You reached the door and took a deep breath. You could do this. You turned the knob and pulled the door open. 

Opening the door revealed Wanda and Natasha, both dressed beautifully and smiling widely at you. 

"Hi, darling," Nat said, glancing you up and down. "You look gorgeous." 

You blushed, and before you could compliment them, Wanda started complimenting you. 

"Yes, sweets. Absolutely stunning." Wanda said, looking you up and down and smiling at you. 

God, you were way too gay for this. 

"Oh, thanks," you said, nervously fiddling with your hands. "I wasn't sure if it was appropriate for where we're going, but I thought it looked nice. Anyway, you two look amazing, like wow. And someone, please interrupt me." You had been rambling, and the two women in front of you had just been smiling. 

"No darling, ramble all you want," Nat said. "And what you're wearing is perfect." 

Wanda giggled, "yeah, sweets, your rambling is cute. But thank you for the compliment." 

You smiled sheepishly at them. Nat took a step forward towards where you were standing, holding the door open. 

"Darling?" She asked. Her voice was doing that thing where it went down an octave and sounded unnaturally sexy.

"Uh yeah, yes." You responded, unsure what she was going to ask you.  

"Can I kiss you again?" Natasha asked. "These couple hours have been long enough."

"Yes," you blurted out quickly. 

Natasha chuckled, "Come here, darling." She reached out and grasped your waist, pulling you into her. Your lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. You sighed into it. Kissing Natasha was something you would never get used to. It felt like all the happiness in the world put together, and kissing Wanda felt the exact same.  

"Okay, you two," Wanda's voice interrupted. "I need my kiss, too, if you don't mind."

Natasha reluctantly pulled away, kissing your cheek before whispering in your ear, "she's so needy, isn't she." You laughed and turned to face Wanda. 

"Yes, of course, I'll kiss you too," you said. "Also, you guys don't need to keep asking. I'll kiss you guys anytime, anywhere." 

Natasha smirked, "well, that's good to know."

Wanda had a large grin on her face as she pulled you towards her, "oh, it really is." 

She twirled a strand of your hair as she kissed your nose, "I love kissing you, baby girl. Been so long." 

You let out a loud laugh. You couldn't help it. You had crushes on two massive dorks. 

"You two do know that it was like three hours ago that you kissed me goodbye, right?" You said, looking at both Wanda and Nat. 

"Well yeah," Wanda said. "That's a long time."

"And now that we've kissed you, we just can't stop, Natasha said, looking you right in the eyes.

"Now," Wanda said, her voice getting deeper. "Enough talk. I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

You nodded, and she leaned in and kissed you soundly. 

It really was like all the happiness in the world was swirling around the three of you. They made you so happy, and you hadn't even been on the date yet.

Wanda eventually pulled away when the both of you needed to breathe. 

You were panting, but you were smiling so hard. 

"For the record," You started. "I love kissing you guys too. I couldn't stop thinking about it after we said goodbye." 

"Well, I hoped you saved some room in that brain for your test," Natasha said, chuckling. You could tell she was happy, though. Her smile was wide, and her arm was slung over Wanda's shoulder.

"Of course," you said. "Pretty sure I did really well on it too!" 

"You better have. You keep those grades up, baby girl." Natasha said, she still had a smile on her face, but her voice was serious.

You chuckled. "Oh, Natty is very serious," Wanda said, swatting Natasha's arm off her shoulder and going to stand next to you and whispering in your ear. "Probably be consequences if you don't." 

You shivered at her words. You weren't sure how to even think about that. 

"But luckily, you are such a smart girl," Nat said, stepping closer to you and Wanda. 

You weren't sure what to do except just nod quickly. 

"Good," Nat said before pecking your nose. 

"As much as I would love to stand here in the hallway, kissing you guys all night. Should we, uh, get to the date?" You asked, looking back and forth at Wanda and Nat. 

"Yes, baby girl. We should." Wanda chuckled as they both took a step back from you. 

"You ready to go?" Natasha asked.

"Yup," you replied. "Let me just get my bag." You turned around to grab your bag off your desk chair. 

"All set," you said. 

"I think you're forgetting something, darling," Natasha said with a small smile on her face. 

"What?" You asked, looking around in confusion. 

"That," Wanda said, pointing to your room key sitting on your desk. 

"Oh fuck, not again. Thank you," you said, grabbing it and slipping it into your bag. "Don't want to be locked out again." 

"Oh yes," Nat started. "What would you do?"

Wanda smirked, "Maybe two super smart and hot girls would resue you. Let you use one of their rooms as a study room."

"Okay, you two," You said, laughing at them. "Let's go on this date, my knights in shining armor."

"Hey, I don't think I'd be a knight," Wanda said, taking your hand. "I think I'd be a witch, like a super powerful one." 

Natasha took your other hand, "yeah, I think I'd be the assassin type, but like with a code." 

"Okay then," you said. "My witch and my assassin, can we please go on this date now. I'm excited to see where we're going!" 

"Yes, yes, baby girl, our date awaits," Nat said as she led you and Wanda out of the residence hall. 

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs (a very rough draft)

Without spoiling much, it's about the relationship between an escort and a secretary who accidentally meets up with him for an appointment. There is nothing graphic in this draft!

-----

Alex hadn’t been on a date since he was 18, and it had ended with Marry Ellen pouring her slushie over his shirt in the middle of the mall. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he figured right then and there that maybe dating wasn’t for him. And he had lived by that for the next 17 years.

When the day came that his co-workers told him that they had set him up with a friend, he thought maybe it was worth a chance. Andrew, Martin, and Stu were the only guys who had ever tried to talk to him, and Alex appreciated that a little bit. Even if the three of them were dicks. Even if Alex did secretly dub them The Office Douche Bags.

Beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to friends, though. And even if they could, Alex didn’t know how to tell them to leave him alone.

“He’s so sweet and super cute,” Andrew said. “I mean, look at him.”

He leaned over Alex’s desk and showed him a single picture of the date in question. It looked like a semi-professional portrait. He was posing in front of a window in what looked like a bare apartment.

The man had short, curly hair. He had teeth that were unnaturally white, but they were straight. He showed them all in a wide smile. His clothes were tight, and his body was slim. Skinny, really. Alex thought he was pretty cute and assumed he was probably some aspiring actor—so, he was living a much more exciting life than Alex was at the moment.

Andrew insisted it was all taken care of. He apparently knew a waitress who had taken care of a dinner reservation. Andrew had even left his own credit card on file, saying he owed Marcus a favor from a while back so this was his repayment. Alex felt bad at first, but Andrew insisted. He really owed Marcus big time.

Setting him up with a guy was one half of the deal. Paying for the date was the other half. Really, it was all fine. The reservation was at Friday at 6 at some semi-bougie restaurant. Marcus would be expecting him, and it was important that Alex didn’t talk about work. There were other things to talk about.  

Alex didn’t argue any further. He went home that Friday with his stomach in knots.

He tried making his hair look nice in the mirror. He tried using mousses and combs and pomade, but it just ended up looking like his normal flat hair. Eve leaned in the doorway of the bathroom and watched.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“I don’t care. I need to pee.”

She shoved him out of the way and into the living room of their minuscule one bedroom apartment.

“You look fine,” she yelled through the closed door.

Alex wished she wouldn’t talk to him while she peed, but there was nothing he could do about it. Her voice could be heard no matter where he was in the apartment.

“Thank you,” he shouted back.

“Who is this guy again?”

“His name is Marcus. I don’t know anything else.”

The toilet flushed, and the sink ran. Eve pulled the door open and stared him down. She had such a serious face for such a young woman. She always had. Even when she was a baby, she always looked at Alex with an expression that seemed to say she was tired of his bullshit. Her new undercut made her look all the more intimidating.

“He’s going to steal your kidney,” she said.

“What?”

“You can’t meet up with a total stranger at some restaurant. I was listening to this podcast the other day where this guy went on all these blind dates, but he would drug all the women once they starting to hook up, and he sold their kidneys on the black market.”

“First of all, he’s not a stranger. He’s a friend of a friend. And second of all, it won’t be like that. We’re just getting dinner. And no one actually steals kidneys.”

“Dude, I literally just listened to a podcast about it. You’re going to end up waking up in a bathtub full of ice.”

“I’m begging you to stop.”

“Share your location with me before you leave.”

Alex huffed about it, but he did pull out his phone and sent her a link to track him.

“If this works out, are you going to take him to that wedding?” she asked.

“I’m not thinking about that right now.” He had been planning on going solo, and he really didn’t want to put more thought into it than he had to. It was a long way away. “Wedding dates are serious.”

“The Halloween party at least?”

The Halloween party would be easy. He usually didn’t think about taking anyone because every year he showed up in a low-effort costume, took a handful of candy corn, drank a martini, and left without saying much of anything to anyone. Maybe it would be nice to go with someone for once.

“I’ll think about it,” Alex said. “Are you staying in tonight?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Sometimes you see friends.”

Eve flopped herself onto the beaten down pull-out couch that also served as her bed. There was a mason jar across the room that pocket change and spare dollars got shoved into every few weeks, intending to be savings to get her a new pull-out couch to sleep on. They had a total of $53.24 according to a sticky note on the side. Though, Alex was sure Eve had pulled a wad of dollars out to get pizza the night before, so it was hard to tell if that was an accurate number.

“I go to meetings,” she said. “I don’t think my fellow club members really consider me a friend.”

“They could be friends. You just have to, sort of, open up. Ask them to the dining hall or something after a meeting.”

“Eh. I’d rather not.”

“Then die alone. I was just going to remind you to lock the door if you go out.”  

“Fuck off.”

Alex couldn’t really lecture her about making college friends. He never had college friends. He didn’t even really have friends at all. Just the Office Douche Bags.

But meeting with Marcus was making him a little optimistic. He might have finally been getting somewhere. If things went well with Marcus, who knew where it could lead? At the very least, Alex could have a new friend. At the very best, a boyfriend.

He donned his best jacket which was a 5-year-old pea coat that was pilling in the back and was no longer the dark black it had been when Alex’s mother bought it for him. It was a little too heavy for the weather. New York hadn’t plunged into the bitter cold winter yet, but it was just beginning to get a bit chilly. Regardless, it was Alex’s best coat, and he thought the occasion called for something a little dressy.

Leaving Eve alone with a video game, Alex walked to the restaurant early and sat at the reserved table alone.

Alex ordered two glasses of wine and right as they came, right when he began to worry that he would be sitting at the table alone all night, Marcus was led in by the hostess.

He was just as cute as he was in his picture. He wore a nice, burgundy sweater and tight jeans. Alex felt self-conscious about his slacks and button down. He could have chosen something a little more creative. Something that didn’t look like his usual work outfits.

Marcus smiled with his too-white teeth. He raised his shoulders as he sat like he was sheepish about the whole thing. All of his movements—the way he had grabbed the back of his chair to pull it out, the way he swept his hair back from his face, how he laid his chin in his hand to look at Alex—were so delicate and calculated.

Immediately, Alex knew that Marcus was out of his league. Marcus looked so great and was so graceful. He was put-together, and Alex was frumpy. And awkward.

But Marcus began talking to him like he definitely wasn’t out of his league, and that made Alex feel good about himself. And more importantly, he didn’t seem the type to steal a kidney. Unless the charisma was part of the kidney-stealing plan.

There was no kidney-stealing plan, Alex told himself. Eve was just getting in his head.

“Tell me about yourself.” Marcus swirled his wine around in his glass. Alex hoped he had made a good choice going with the cheapest option on the menu. He had hoped Marcus was also the type to drink cheap wine. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Oh. Uh.” Alex didn’t do much. “Why don’t you tell me what you like to do?”

“Okay!” Marcus seemed all too happy to talk about himself. “I like going to shows when I can—musicals, I mean. And other plays. But mostly musicals. But I don’t get to do it all that much because it’s so expensive, you know?”

“Yeah.” Alex didn’t really know. He wasn’t a big fan of theater.

“So, usually I just do little things around the city,” Marcus went on. “I get coffee, I feed pigeons, I binge Netflix.”

Binging Netflix was a conversation Alex could handle. “What are you binging right now?”

“I am a Killer which is that one where they interview all those death row inmates about their crimes. And that Night Stalker documentary. I think it’s just called Night Stalker. Whatever it is, I’m like three episodes into it.”

“Ooh.” Maybe Alex wasn’t leaving with his kidneys. “Do you usually watch a lot shows about killers?”

“Yeah, I love them. I also listen to a lot of true crime podcasts.”

“Oh no.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I meant. Like. Oh no. Me too. Like in a good way. Like we’ll be here all night if we both start talking about it.”

Marcus smiled and delicately laid his chin on top of his laced fingers. Alex laughed uncomfortably. He was already ruining the night. Well-adjusted people could watch true crime. It was a billion-dollar business after all. Even Eve listened to murder podcasts on her walks to class.

“What do you like about true crime?” Alex asked.

“I like learning how to kill people.” Marcus laughed. “I’m just kidding!”

“I hope so! I really, really hope that you’re kidding!”

Alex rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He re-thought the well-adjusted thing as the waiter laid their plates in front of them. He liked both of his kidneys a lot. He wanted to keep them.

“If you really want to know.” Marcus cut a slice of grilled chicken on top of his salad to make it a daintier, bite-sized piece. He was great with knives it seemed. “I like true crime because I think there’s a lot of advocacy involved in it. You know, when the victims get a chance to have their stories told. Especially when the victims are women or people of color. Or when they talk about how the police are incompetent. And yeah, there’s some true crime that gets exploitive. But I think a lot of it is coming from a good place.”

“Yeah.” Alex nodded. His kidneys felt safe again. “I get that.”

“And you know, it’s important to be aware of who gets targeted and who doesn’t get investigated by police. Cause a lot of the time, police won’t really care if someone, like,” Marcus waved his hands in front of his face, “a Latino gay guy gets killed.”

“Right. Right. My sister always goes on about the whole Jeffrey Dahmer thing. Where the police just handed one of his victims back to him.”

Marcus threw his head back. “Don’t get me started on that one.”

But it was too late, and Marcus jumped into a spiel about how the police were willing to look the other way for white men, how it went back centuries, and how Ted Bundy wasn’t even that charismatic. Alex listened with more interest than he thought he would have. Usually when Eve went on her rants, Alex barely listened. He didn’t doubt anything she said, but she picked the worst times for her amateur TED Talks.

There was something about the way that Marcus talked about it all. His delicate hands emphasized his points, his face went through a dozen expressions that were all so handsome. He was so passionate about it, and it was so refreshing to hear someone talk about something other than fucking women or selling whatever to a record number of clients.

Marcus cut himself off rather abruptly. He finished his comment on how Jack the Ripper would have been caught if he hadn’t targeted sex workers, and then sighed. “I am talking way too much. You said you have a sister?”

“Yeah. Eve.”

“Aw. Eve’s such a cute name. Is she older?”

“Younger. She’s a sophomore in college.”

“Good for her. What’s her major?”

It was amazing how Marcus knew how to keep the conversation going when Alex let his side of it fizzle out like a dead firework.

“Computer science,” Alex said. “She’s really good at it. She got all of these awards her first year at school, and now her professors are trying to get into all of these nice internships next year.”

“That’s amazing!”

“She is flunking math right now, though.”

Marcus frowned. “Not amazing.”

“It’s a calculus class. It’s a whole thing. She says it’s not even all that important for her major—which I have no idea if that’s’ true or not—but it’s still a requirement, and she’s worried it’s going to tank her GPA.”

Marcus ran the tip of his finger over his wine glass. “What even is calculus?”

“No idea. I just know it makes her cry.”

“Poor thing. Can she get a tutor?”

“She’s tried, but the academic support center or whatever is only open when she’s in class or working. Her only free time is in the evenings.”

“That’s so unfair! They can’t do night tutoring?”

“Apparently not.” Alex drank the last of his wine. “But she’s smart. She’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sure she will. And it’s sweet that you’re so involved.”

“Eh, we share an apartment. I get to hear about all of her crises whether I want to or not.”

Something in Marcus’ face softened. He looked almost distracted. “You share an apartment?”

“Yeah, it’s cheaper for her to commute than to live on campus, and my apartment is close enough to her college that she can walk there. It just made sense for her to move in with me.”

“It does.”

“Do you have siblings?”

Marcus composed himself. He pulled his hands into his lap and straightened in his chair. “No. I’m an only child.”

“Sometimes I wish I was an only child.”

“Don’t say that. Eve sounds nice.”

Alex didn’t know how to find a way out of the dead-end response. Their meals were finished, and there was no check coming to give them a definitive end to dinner.

Marcus stretched his hand across the table, palm up. He smiled easily at Alex. Alex laid his hand in Marcus’, hoping it wasn’t sweaty or warm.

“Want to head upstairs for another drink?” Marcus asked.

Alex didn’t know what “upstairs” meant, but he agreed. There could have been a bar on the higher level of the hotel. Maybe a rooftop thing.

Marcus led him through the crowd of new guests being seated and nodded to the hostess at the front of the restaurant. He took Alex down the hall and into an elevator. The entire time, Marcus held his hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

It was the most touching Alex had had in years. It was a little pathetic, but he felt so relieved. He had finally met someone nice. He had finally found someone who seemed interested in him. Someone willing to touch him. The little touches meant so much whether or not Marcus knew it or not.

The elevator doors opened and revealed a row of doors. Alex followed Marcus out, a little fear creeping up in his stomach. He realized, as Marcus pulled out a key card from his pocket, that “upstairs” meant a hotel room.

But maybe it wouldn’t be all bad. Alex supposed he didn’t know if Marcus was from the city or not. He could have just been visiting and was staying in that hotel. It didn’t necessarily mean he had just gotten a room for a hook up.

The room smelled like a mix of cheap air freshener and laundry detergent. It was icy cold, and Marcus wished he could have slid his jacket on. When Marcus flipped on the lights, and when Alex’s eyes adjusted, he saw the room was small with one bed and a bathroom close by.

The door settled heavily into its frame and locked. Alex stayed close to it, his fingers touching the thick wood behind his back.

Marcus laid his hand on Alex’s hip, right under his belt. He kept smiling even as he leaned in and kissed Alex.

It was all so forward. Alex should have mentioned something earlier.

Marcus pulled him away from the door and towards the bed. It was only a few steps, and then they were sitting together, Marcus getting handsier with every second. Alex sat frozen.

Marcus must have noticed how stiff he was because he leaned back and moved his hands from Alex’s legs and waist to his hair.

“Nervous?” he asked. He sounded so sweet still. Alex didn’t want to ruin anything for him.

“I’m just not used to this, I think.”

Marcus nodded. “It’s okay. How do you want to do this?”

“Um. I don’t. I don’t know.”

“I can lead if you want.”

“I don’t think I know what’s happening.”

Marcus stroked Alex’s hair with one hand and looked at his watch. He sighed. “I don’t want to rush you or kill the mood, but you only have about an hour left, and I don’t give refunds.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Alex swept Marcus’ hands aside. “What do you mean?”

The sweet, caring look Marcus had was gone. He looked equally confused. “You paid for two hours? And I explicitly told you there’s a no-refund policy. You are Alex, right? I’m not with the wrong client?”

“Client?”

And all of a sudden, it hit Alex like a brick to the face. There was no luggage in the room. Marcus was very eager to get Alex in bed. No-refund policies.

Alex screamed, “Oh my god!” and shot up off the bed and backed himself up in a corner.

Marcus also began screaming and pulled his legs onto the bed.

“What?” Marcus yelled. “What is it?”

“Are you a prostitute?”

“I’m—“ Marcus lowered his voice. “I’m an escort. Aren’t you my client?”

“No!”

Marcus’ face turned grey, and his body deflated. His eyes turned from Alex to the floor in horror.

“I mean.” Alex held out a shaking hand. He tried speaking quietly. “I was set up to go on a date for you, but I didn’t pay for it. My friend told me you were a friend of his, and this was just supposed to be a date. Like a real date. I didn’t know it was—a—a business transaction.”

“Oh my god. Okay. I got a message from you saying you wanted an appointment, and now that I’m sitting here I’m realizing I really need a better screening process for my clients. I thought you were acting really weird, and I just thought it was part of the experience you wanted.”

Alex was in full panic mode. He had unknowingly played a part in soliciting a prostitute. He could get fired. He could get arrested. He was most definitely not talking to the Douche Bags ever again.

He really thought he had made a real connection with someone, and it turned out that it was all fake. Marcus had been paid. He wasn’t real. Never mind getting arrested, Alex hadn’t been on a date at all. The charming, nice man he thought liked him was just part of an act. His chest ached. His stomach sunk.

But more importantly, Marcus was staring at him like a deer in headlights. And Alex thought about how scary the situation must have been for him.

“I’m going to leave,” Marcus said.

“Wait. Hold on.” Marcus hadn’t even begun to move. “I just want you know that I won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Like, I support legalizing sex work and all that.”

“Uh.”

“Everything you were saying at dinner about sex workers being pushed aside in society and ignored, I agree with all that. It’s awful. I think you deserve rights.”

“Are you just going to keep telling me how progressive you are?”

“Yes.” Alex held up a finger. “Because I want you to know that you’re safe.”

“Insisting that I’m safe while you’re backed into a dark corner doesn’t make me feel all that safe. You should know people know where I am, and they know your name and where you work—I mean, if any of that was real. I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sorry. But really, I don’t want to get you arrested or anything. Can I just ask a few questions? Like who’s impersonating me to solicit prostitutes? And how do I stop that from happening again?”

Marcus perched himself on the very edge of the bed. He looked Alex up and down and nodded.

“Only if you stop calling me a prostitute,” Marcus said.

“Yeah! What do you prefer to be called?”

Marcus held his shoulders high and lifted his chin. “I’m an escort and a sex worker.”

“Okay. Can we figure out, together, what happened that someone hired an escort as me? Because I genuinely had no idea you were an escort. I really did think this was a real date. And I have a hunch about who impersonated me.”

Marcus nodded again. “Things like this happen more often than you might think.”

“I can only imagine.” Alex slowly approached Marcus again and, not wanting to loom over him, sat on the bed, leaving plenty of space between them. He pulled out his phone. “These are the texts I got from my friend Andrew. He said he set up the date between us.”

The reservation is at 6. My card is already on file. Don’t worry about paying.

Don’t forget what he looks like ;)

And below was the picture of Marcus.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Marcus said. “That’s my picture on my profile.”

He pulled out his own phone and opened an app Alex had never seen before.

“This is supposed to be you,” he said.

He showed Alex a series of messages. They were all very professional. Back and forth about meeting, reservations, and a Venmo transaction. There was a picture of Alex, taken straight from his LinkedIn profile which was also linked in the messages. There was even a picture of Alex’s state ID, probably taken from files somewhere at work. Stu, after all, worked in human resources. It would have been easy to get any information needed.

It was horrifying how easily the Douche Bags had impersonated him. It was violating and humiliating and scary. It was illegal! Alex could have reported them, and they would lose their jobs. But that would be potentially dangerous for Marcus, and Alex didn’t want Marcus mixed up in anything that could get him in trouble. If he did snitch, his bosses could report it, and Marcus could be found, and he’d get arrested.

“So, there are these guys I work with,” Alex said, feeling so shocked and scared now that his skin was numb. “And they said they were setting me up on a blind date with someone they knew. But it was all a prank, and they set me up with a pros—an escort. Without you knowing about it either. But all that information they gave you is real. That’s where I work and where I live.”

“Okay, listen.” Marcus locked his phone and shoved back into his tight jeans. “I can’t say something like this happened before. Your friends were thorough. I’m just glad we got everything sorted out before anything more serious happened. And I’m glad you didn’t flip out—okay, you kind of flipped out. But it could have been worse.”

And Marcus smiled, and Alex couldn’t help the wave of heartbreak that washed over him. Marcus wasn’t real. All the smiles had been paid for. His date hadn’t been real. He was still alone and date-less, and to make it all worse, he knew the Douche Bags were probably laughing at him right about now.

He was pissed. He was mourning. He was feeling every emotion possible.

He couldn’t help it. He started crying. He pressed his palms into his eyes and tried so hard to not make a scene. But his nose started running, and his breath was getting short and gaspy.

“Oh no,” Marcus cooed.

Alex felt him stand and heard him move across the carpet. When Alex felt the bed dip again with his weight, he looked up. Marcus offered him a box of thin, scratchy hotel tissues. His hands shook while he held out the box. Alex wanted to steady them, lay his own hands over them until the last of the fear was out of him.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said. “I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Alex pulled a few tissues out of the box and wiped his eyes and nose as discreetly and politely as he could.

“I feel dumb,” Alex said.

“No! Don’t! If anyone is dumb, it’s me. I should have made sure the account was legit. I should have asked for a picture of you holding a newspaper. Like what hostage victims do.”

Alex laughed a little. Just a little. “They could have asked me to pose for it, and I would have.”

“Okay, well, then I’ll have to think of something else.”

Marcus put his hand on Alex’s back, and Alex wished he wouldn’t. It felt so nice.

“I don’t think escorts are supposed to comfort people like this,” Alex said.

“I’ve actually comforted a lot of crying clients before. It’s my job. I’m a professional companion. And you still have me for an hour.”

“I’ll try to pull myself together within an hour.”

“You better. If not, I’m still leaving. I don’t do overtime.”

Alex laughed again.

“And I do have plans at 9. My brother and I have a very serious night of Netflix binging planned.”

“Brother? You said you were an only child.”

“I lied. I lie about everything to clients. Just in case someone ends up being crazy and follows me home or something.”

“Oh god.” Alex wiped his nose. “I’m just curious. How dangerous is it being an escort?”

Marcus sighed. “Pretty dangerous? It depends. Sometimes nights end like this. They’re fine. Sometimes, I get nervous.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Alex didn’t push.

“But more often than not, people are just looking for someone to spend a night with,” Marcus said. “And it ends pretty well. Sometimes there’s sex, sometimes we just go out. And there’s been plenty of crying.”

“Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Marcus rubbed Alex’s back. It was very soothing.

“A couple of years ago,” Marcus said, “I had an older client. I think he was in his late 60s. And his wife had died that same week.”

“Oh my god.”

“He just wanted someone to sit with him. His house was so empty, he said. He just wanted someone to eat dinner with and watch the news with. And he told me all about her. She was a teacher, they had traveled together, they had volunteered at an animal shelter when they both retired. He cried a lot telling me about her.

“They didn’t have any kids, so it was just him left. He was lonely. The funeral had been earlier that day, and he didn’t want to cry alone that night. And I just sat with him. I made him tea. I offered him tissues.”

“That’s really nice of you.”

Marcus shrugged. “Sometimes I get clients like that.”

“But you must have helped him.”

“I guess. Maybe. When I left, I said I hoped he would be okay. But I never heard from him again.”

Alex was feeling a little better. At least he wasn’t a widower.

“You’re like a therapist,” Alex said.

“Not at all. I’m just a companion.” Marcus took a fresh tissue from the box and dabbed below Alex’s eyes. “I take care of people’s social needs, that’s all.”

Alex smiled, genuinely. He did feel like he was being taken care of. Marcus smiled back. It seemed like Marcus had calmed down. His hands had steadied.

“There we go.” Marcus wadded up the tissue and left it on the duvet. “Feeling better?”

“Not a lot.”

“Well, you still have a little under an hour, and your co-worker isn’t getting that money back. And we have wine that’s already been paid for.”

Marcus poured two glasses of wine while Alex tried drying up the rest of his tears and snot and throwing the tissues away so the unfortunate housekeepers wouldn’t have to pull them off the bed and floor the next morning.

Alex watched Marcus’ delicate hands offer him a wine glass, fingers wrapped around the stem.

“It really is okay,” Marcus said. “You can keep crying.”

“I don’t want to cry. It feels like it’d give them too much satisfaction.”

“Do you mind me asking why you even trusted them enough in the first place? They don’t seem like they’re your friends.”

“They’re the closest things I have to friends.”

“Aww. They really took advantage of you.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’m just too naive.”

“I don’t think this makes you naive. I just think you were letting yourself be vulnerable and open to a first date. It’s admirable. They just fucked you over.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to look at them on Monday. They’re probably expecting me to come in absolutely mortified.”

Marcus laughed a little. “You could be like, ‘It was such a nice night. Thanks for arranging it. Give Marcus a nice review for me. Hope you tipped him well.’”

“God, no.”

“Or just plead ignorance. Tell them you had a great date and you think you want to see me again. Pretend like you never picked up on the fact I was an escort.”

“They would shit themselves.”

“Then do it! Don’t let them think they’ve won this.”

Maybe it was two glasses of wine talking, but Alex didn’t think that was a half-bad idea. They didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how poorly Alex felt that night.

“What if,” he said, “I do tell them that.”

“Do it.”

“And I maybe hire you again some night? But make it look like it’s a real date?”

“You want to hire me to pretend to be your boyfriend for people who know I’m an escort?”

“Think it’ll work?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never been asked that before.”

“It would be one more date.”

“As long as you pay, I don’t care what you have planned.”

“It doesn’t go against any moral code to trick people?”

Marcus raised his eyes to the ceiling and pressed his lips together. “I guess,” he said, “if no one is getting hurt, it’s okay. It wouldn’t be any different than me showing up to banquets pretending to be someone’s partner, would it? You’re not going to plan something malicious?”

“No.” Alex laid his wine glass down on the nightstand. He stood and began pacing, wrapping his arms around himself. “I think if we could do one believable date, they’d buy it. And then I say it didn’t work out for some totally normal reason.”

“But how are they even going to know about the date?”

“Good point.”

Marcus put his chin in his hands and leaned on his knees. He watched Alex’s short walk from one side of the hotel room to the next. He had such large, beautiful eyes, Alex thought. Such a shame.

“Do you have any parties?” Marcus asked.

“Not any coming up.”

“Not even an office party?”

Alex turned on his heel toward Marcus. “There’s a Halloween party in two weeks. Think you can pencil me in?”

“Is it on Halloween?”

“Yes. It starts at, like, 7.”

“I’ll have to double-check, but I think it’ll work. I try not to schedule anything on Halloween because it’s my brother’s and I’s favorite holiday, but I’ll make an exception this year.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. You don’t really have to do that.”

“No, it’s fine. I have a feeling Leo isn’t going to be up for much this year.”

“Leo’s your brother?”

The soft look he momentarily had over dinner returned. “Yeah.”

Alex sat back down. “Younger?”

“Yeah. He’s a senior in college. He’s applying to a lot of grad schools, and deadlines are coming up.” When Marcus talked about Leo, his voice was gentle, and he tucked his body into itself. “He might want me out of the apartment anyway so he can get work done.”

“You guys live together?”

“Yeah. Same deal with you and your sister. He can commute if he lives with me.” Marcus gently jabbed Alex in the side with his elbow. “Guess we have some things in common.”

They poured another glass of wine for each of them and relaxed a little into the bed. Marcus rested on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Leo’s really smart,” he said.

He began telling stories of Leo, how he was always great at solving problems when he was a kid. He was in his high school’s honor society, he graduated with honors, he got a great scholarship to college. And now he had an astounding GRE score but was worried about finding a way to pay for his masters and all of the application fees.

It was unfair that someone so smart and who worked so hard was afraid of being able to afford school. Any school would be lucky to have him, but there was trying to pick up extra hours at work so he could at least let the schools know he existed.

Of course, Marcus said, he was trying to help him pay for everything. He had covered the cost of the GRE for him as a birthday gift, and he was hoping Leo would let him pay for at least a few applications. Marcus was picking up extra clients whenever he could to try to get enough money together. He was always trying to take care of Leo.

He didn’t let Leo pay any rent. Alex sheepishly admitted he had asked Eve to pitch in for some of the bills. Marcus told him different strokes for different folks. The city was expensive, and it was hard to make rent on one’s own.

Alex told Marcus all about how Eve worked in a bookstore and loved it, but she was also looking to do a little freelance with computer science. There were lots of little projects people needed help with, and she could do a lot from the apartment. It would bring in a lot more money than working as a cashier.

It wasn’t like they weren’t in the middle of the largest city in the country. Marcus pointed out the kids would have better opportunities in the future. Alex agreed. There was a lot for them out there.

Marcus loved Leo dearly, Alex could tell. And he felt bad about thinking that Marcus was going to steal a kidney. Marcus was clearly a sweet man. He could have stayed all night in that hotel room, just talking about siblings and the city. He wished the date had been real. He was sure he would have taken Marcus somewhere for a talk. Maybe coffee. Maybe it could have been very romantic. And the potential for that romance would eat away at Alex forever.

He wanted to stay up all night with Marcus.

But he only had that one hour. How much was even left? The bedside table clock was unplugged, and Alex dreaded checking his phone for the time.

“Shit,” Alex said. “I’m sorry. It’s 8:45. Shouldn’t this have ended 45 minutes ago?”

Marcus shrugged. “You didn’t get the full service tonight, so I think it’s fair you got an extra 45 minutes. I don’t have any other clients tonight.”

“Yeah, but you have that Netflix binge.”

“Oh. Right.” Marcus pulled out of his phone. “Leo will probably be wondering what’s happening if I stay at this hotel any longer.”

“Does he track your location?”

“’Course. If I end up dead, he’ll know exactly what bathtub my body was dumped in.”

“My sister made me turn on my location in case you stole my kidneys.”

“Smart girl. I listened to a podcast about that.”

“God. You two would get along well.”

Alex didn’t want to stand up from the bed, but Marcus got to his feet. He raised his arms above his head and arched his back in a satisfying stretch. His sweater and dress-shirt lifted, and Alex saw a little sliver of his stomach. There was a little trail of dark hair above his belt. Alex loved little happy trails on men, but he had never seen one in person.

“Here.” Marcus took the hotel’s pad and pen off the nightstand. “I don’t do this for a lot of clients, but since I apparently have a security issue on the app, I’m giving you one of my phone numbers.”

“One of?”

“Yeah, I use one of those messaging apps that gives you a number that’s different than your actual number.”

“Clever.”

“Thank you.” Marcus tore off the paper and handed it to Alex. “Text me when you want to make plans for that party. I’ll send you prices, and I’m going to make you go through my whole security process again. No offense, but since you technically haven’t been through it yet, I’d like to make sure I have all your real information.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

They left their empty wine glasses on a dresser. Alex’s head was a little light, a little fuzzy. He followed Marcus through the cramped room, watching the back of his head. Marcus ruffled the curls, letting them come a little loose after pulling at them.

Marcus opened the door for Alex. He paused in the hallway for Marcus to make sure the door had locked behind them before taking the dreaded steps away from the room.

“If it counts for anything,” Marcus said, “I had a very nice night.”

“Even though I cried?”

“I told you.” Marcus lowered his voice. “People cry. It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

Marcus called an elevator but didn’t move when the doors opened. He gestured for Alex to enter. Alex figured that they were parting there, that their night together was over. Finally.

“I’ll text you with the details,” he said.

“Sounds good.”

Alex stepped into the elevator. When the doors began to close, Marcus threw his hand out to stop them.

“Some of my clients know,” he said, “my name’s not Marcus. It’s Damián. That’s my honest-to-god name.”  

“Damián. That’s a nice name.”

“I’m trusting you with it, Alex.”

“You can trust me.”

After all, Damián hadn’t taken his kidneys. Alex could return the favor and keep his name close to his chest.

Damián smiled one last time, showing his too-white teeth. The doors closed between them.

[cursestothemoon]

In Love With A Downright Git

Requested: yes

Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, crude language, chafing, mentions of being unclothed, George Weasley in burgundy boxers with beater’s bats and snitches on them

Word Count: 7456

i got a tad carried away with this one but i loVE IT SO MUCH

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

Fred watched as Y/n L/n gave a perfect demonstration in front of the class, Professor Snape clearly proud of the representation of his house. The potion, a bubbling sage green that smelled faintly of mint and dirt, was not what Fred was paying attention to. No, he was watching the way Y/n’s hair, pulled back into a ponytail, seemed to showcase her face perfectly. Her just barely arrogant smirk that was drawn so delicately on her features, eyes looking at her partner who was shaking her head at her with an annoyed smile. Fred thinks her name is Lily but isn’t sure, she never tickled his fancy, not like Y/n did.

“Thank you Ms. L/n. You may have a seat now, though I may implore you to assist others who might not have such a natural gift.” Snape sneered, his eyes moving to an unsuspecting Ravenclaw.

Y/n was making her way back to her table when she decided to make the detour to her favorite set of twins to gloat.

“Keep staring, Weasley, maybe you’ll learn something.” She smirked and Fred, as usual, had to ignore the need he felt to pull her lips onto his.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Y/n.”

She blushed, barely, but she did before rolling her eyes and making her way to her table.

The rest of the class went by rather quietly, Fred and George brewed a potion that smelled of roasted chicken and was an odd orange color. Y/n had been making rounds to tables that hadn’t quite understood the instructions but she was deliberately avoiding Fred and George.

“Freddie, bet you five sickles you won’t taste the potion.” George leaned over to whisper to Fred.

Fred scoffed as he looked at his twin, “You’re on.”

He dipped the end of his index finger into the potion and it came out covered in a thick goop that made Fred’s stomach turn a bit. However, he was never one to back down from a bet, especially if money was involved, and he stuck his finger in his mouth quickly before pulling it out with a pop. For further effect he gave George a stretched, close-lipped smile as he swallowed. There was a faint taste of tomatoes and something unnaturally salty, it wasn’t bad but he didn’t enjoy the experience.

“Wicked. How’d it taste?” George asked and the two broke into a conversation about the taste of the potion.

They hadn’t gotten far in their conversation when Snape called for a sample of the potions from each table. George was the one to pour their potion in a small tube before handing it to Fred to take to Snape.

“Oi, I can’t find the cap, make sure you snag one before you turn it in.” George called to Fred, who was already walking away.

Fred had turned to look at his brother as he talked, he gave an eye roll as he started to turn his body back to face ahead. Only he was too late and he ran right into something, or rather, someone spilling the contents of the potion.

“It’s in my mouth!” An unmistakable voice exclaimed.

Y/n L/n was standing in front of him, covered in an orange goop.

“Don’t worry, darling, I had some and nothing happened to me. You’ll be just fine.”

Lily had to grip onto one of the tables as she laughed at her best friend’s face of bewilderment.

“Why would you taste it?” Her eyes were wide with both worry and confusion.

Fred went to open his mouth to answer and realized how ridiculous it truly was but decided on telling her either way.

“George said I wouldn’t.” He shrugged.

She let out a groan before using her wand to clean herself up, also cleaning the splatter that had ended up on Fred’s robes while she was at. Y/n turned to leave the class before anything else could be spilled onto her, and Lily trailed after her, still unsteady with how much she was laughing at her grumpy face.

“Smooth, Fred.”

Fred turned to look at George who was also having trouble stifling his laugh, “Shut up.”

--

The pain at the top of his head was the first thing he felt, making him groan. He couldn’t tell if it was his head or his… hair that hurt. Fred reached a hand up to the top of his head where the pain was, but kept his eyes closed not yet wanting to fully wake up. His hand found his hair, rubbing at his scalp gently hoping to ease the pain but it seemed the more he moved his hair the more it hurt.

It was when he turned, his hair tickling his shoulder, that his eyes shot open. His hair couldn’t have grown that long within one night, could it? Most things in the room were still a bit out of focus from having woken up so abruptly, but it was the lack of blinding sunlight that usually flooded through the window in his dorm that made his mind race. Fred couldn’t remember going to someone else's dorm, instead all he could remember was falling asleep in his bed in his dorm. He remembers it clearly because he had chosen to wear socks to bed, much to George’s disagreement, because of how cold it had been in their dorm. He no longer had socks on.

His eyes seemed to focus better now, and he was facing a wall next to the bed. There were pictures hung up on it, frameless and unorganized. His face inched closer to the pictures and he noticed Y/n L/n was in most of them, the others had her friends. There was a picture of her on Draco’s lap, her hands holding his face to her chest as she squeezed his cheeks. Draco seemed to be annoyed with the girl but dealing with the harassment. There was another one, Lily and Y/n from the shoulders up in front of a lake. Fred realized they were most likely naked, seeing as their shoulders were bare and their smiles screamed of an adrenaline rush.

Fred realized he was probably in Y/n’s bed, seeing as now that he was paying attention it did smell like her. He closed his eyes and smushed his face into the pillow hoping to remember the night somehow, after all the years of pining and sexual tension he finally wound up in her bed and he can’t remember how. He rolled over and let his hands fall over his face, rubbing at his eyes, but something was off. His hands felt far too soft to be a beater’s, and they were smaller than he remembered.

Slowly, he opened his eyes as he held his hands up in front of his face. Fred let out a yelp as he saw, not his hands, no, he saw Y/n’s hands. Nails painted a dark green, and her usual bracelets adorned her wrists. He shot up, back rigidly straight as he sat in her bed, his head turning to see Lily starting to wake up.

“Quiet down would you?” Lily grumbled before moving to get up.

Fred watched as she moved to get out of bed, the blanket falling off of her giving Fred a view of her bra and underwear.

“No!” He yelped again before slapping his hand to cover his eyes.

“Are you on drugs? Genuinely, I’m asking because I’m worried.” Lily’s voice was annoyed, clearly not a morning person.

Fred didn’t know what to say. Not only did he have your hands, but he had your voice too and this was getting way too weird for him.

“Put some bloody clothes on, then we can start asking questions.”

Lily grumbled but it sounded like she was shuffling around before she gave him the ok. Fred slowly pulled his hand away from his eyes to see Lily in a sweater and shorts as she gave him a look of genuine worry.

“Where’s the mirror?”

“Over by the bathroom door, where it usually is.” She said slowly.

Fred stood up and nearly wobbled, he was a lot closer to the ground then he was used to. He rushed over to the mirror and gasped as he saw himself, or, Y/n staring back at him in a cropped grey shirt that she clearly fashioned herself, surely getting herself expelled if she were to wear it out of this room, and royal blue underwear.

It didn’t feel right to be looking at her body like this, and he turned abruptly before walking back towards her bed.

If he was here, in her body, did that mean she would be waking up to George’s snoring in his body?

--

Y/n woke with a jolt, her feet were uncomfortably hot and constricted. She wrestled the sheets to pull her legs out and take off the socks, she never wears socks to bed. She furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed her unnaturally large feet and long legs that were extremely hairy. Then she saw her hand, a large, rough, man's hand let out a short shriek as she jumped to stand but her long limbs got stuck in the sheets, she fell to the floor with a thump.

“Shut, the fuck, up.”

She looked toward the sound of the voice and saw a heap of red hair poking out from under a knit blanket, much like the one that had strangled her. She was in the boys dorms, and it didn’t look like any boy’s dorm that she knew. The walls were bright, reds and golds were everywhere, along with a lovely window. She wasn’t in the dungeons anymore.

Y/n looked back toward the boy in the bed and suddenly felt her heart stop for a moment, that red hair seemed awfully familiar.

“Fred?”

The body turned allowing her to see the face of the person.

“George!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “You’re not starting to confuse too, now are you?”

“What?”

George sat up in bed, the blanket falling off his legs to reveal his burgundy boxers that had snitches and beater’s bats on them.

“George! You don’t have clothes on!” Y/n scolded him as she moved to stand up, looking away from him.

“Fred, you alright mate?”

Y/n stopped. He called her Fred, why had he called her Fred.

George noticed the way his supposed twin froze at the name, his eyes going wide, and he subtly slid his wand behind his back from under his pillow.

“When we were five I fell off of a broom we stole from Charlie, which bone did I break?”

She was stumped, obviously, not knowing the answer.

“I don’t-”

“Which bone, Fred?” The name had a standoffish emphasis as it rolled off George’s tongue.

“Your arm.”

George was quick as he shot up from his bed and shoved his brother into a wall, holding him there with his wand pointed in his face.

“Trick question, Fred was the one to fall and he broke his right leg. You’re not Fred.”

Y/n panicked, “I’m not, I’m not. It’s me, Y/n.”

It was the cold wall against her bare back that made her realize she was, in fact shirtless, only with long pajama pants on.

“I don’t have a shirt on you perv!” She shouted shoving George off of her to cover her chest.

Underestimating her newfound strength, she had shoved George a bit too hard and nearly pushed him back onto his bed.

“Y/n?”

She looked at George, popping a hip out with an attitude, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

George wanted to laugh, Fred or rather Fred’s body, was standing before him, hip jutted out and hands covering his pecks as he gave him a pointed look.

“So does that mean…” George started but decided not to finish the sentence at the look of horror that flashed over Fred’s face.

Y/n was horrified, if she remembers correctly she is not wearing any pants and now Fred was waking up in her body.

“Get dressed we need to go find me.”

--

“I know who you’re looking for.” Lily said matter of factly next to Fred.

He turned to her, his new long hair whipping around, “What?”

“Come on you do this everyday, you look for that Weasley boy and I tell you to get over yourself and just ask him out and you pretend like you have no idea what I’m talking about. Honestly, Y/n he looks at you just as much as you look at him, stop wasting time and hop on that.”

Fred nearly choked over what Lily insinuated and he was hoping the ‘Weasley boy’ in question was him.

“I don’t like Fred.” He answered, trying his luck.

Lily scoffed as she shoved a spoonful of cereal in her mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering him, “Yeah and I’m Dumbledore. Hop on that dick, Y/n, or someone else might beat you to it.”

“Hop on the- I-” Fred cut himself off as he saw George and...well himself, walk into the breakfast hall.

He got up and swung his leg over the bench, lifting his leg a bit too high not yet used to the shorter legs he was sporting, which caused Lily to pull his skirt down and cover his, or Y/n’s, underwear.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna, I’m gonna go hop on that.”

“Atta girl!” Lily called, but he was already too far away to turn and respond.

He made his way to the Gryffindor table, and scanned the area for his brother and himself. It seemed as though they had disappeared into thin air as they were nowhere to be found.

“You!”

There she was.

Fred turned around coming face to… chest with himself. He angled his neck upwards to look into his own eyes and it was the most peculiar thing to see himself as someone else would.

“I’m hoping you are who I think you are.”

Y/n leaned down to reach Fred, who was in her body, “It’s me you bloody idiot, Y/n.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Fred grimaced.

Y/n scoffed before grabbing Fred’s wrist, well her wrist but considering the situation…, and pulled him out of the breakfast hall with George following.

“Fix this.” She said once reaching a vacant corridor.

“I don’t know how.” Fred answered honestly.

She threw her head back as she spun in place, a deep groan coming from her lips, “I am tall, and gangly, and- a ginger!”

Fred scoffed, “You think that’s bad? I’m about a foot tall, wearing a stupid bra. Why do you wear these anyway they are so uncomfortable, and don’t even get me started on how crude your friend Lily is. She told you to, and I quote, ‘hop on my dick’. What’s that about?”

“Bloody hell…” Y/n felt herself blush as she heard what Lily told him, but her attention was soon stolen by something else.

“Fred, why don’t you have stockings on?”

Fred looked down at his legs, now shorter and out in the open, “Why do I need stockings?”

Y/n gave a short chuckle, “You do have shorts on underneath, right?”

Fred shook his head.

“Well, you’re gonna start chafing. So thanks for that.”

Fred, not really caring at the moment, shook his head, “We’ve got bigger issues.”

“Like what? What could be a bigger issue than this?” Y/n said exasperated.

Fred scrunched his face, avoiding eye contact as he said, “I have to pee.”

“No you don’t.”

George let out a loud laugh at this, otherwise staying silent through the entire ordeal.

“Listen class is starting, Fred and I have all our classes together so you’ll have me to help you out, Y/n. And Fred… good luck mate.”

“What? No, I can’t go to class alone! She has runes first, I cant go to runes alone!”

“How do you know-”

George cut her off, “It’s one day, you’ll be fine. We meet here at lunch.”

Everyone agreed, a few grumbles sounded, then they were all on their way.

--

Y/n walked alongside George, her hips swaying awkwardly as she moved.

“Why are you walking like that?” George asked, noticing her odd gate.

She gave a distracted answer as they reached their first class, and took a seat uncomfortably.

“I usually don’t have anything between my legs when I walk, so this is all a bit new to me. Excuse the learning curve.” She was frustrated, and George couldn’t help but snort at her annoyed face.

Fred on the other hand was having a very rough beginning to his day, between the cat calls in the halls that truly got extremely annoying, he had now understood why Y/n was so worried about chafing.

He was walking back to the meeting spot with his legs as far apart as he could get them so the insides of his thighs wouldn’t touch, and his bra was itchy and poking at his back, and it was all a lot to handle at the moment.

The vacant corridor was still vacant, meaning he was the first to arrive. He sat down on the floor, knees bent and apart hoping to relieve the now red and bumpy skin that had chafed.

“Ms. L/n, close your knees and sit like a lady!”

Fred felt his blood boil, if he was told to do anything like a lady one more time he’d lose it. But for now he quietly grumbled as Professor Mcgonagall left him alone, closing his knees as he complained.

Just in time, he turned his head to see George and Y/n walking up to him, both of them laughing at something she had said. The sight further irritated Fred, and he got up quickly.

“Why are you walking like that, mate?” George asked as Fred hobbled over to them, laughing as he had asked the same question to Y/n.

He gave a sarcastic laugh, “I’ve started chafing.”

Y/n stifled her laugh as she saw the dangerous look Fred gave her, her own eyes narrowing at herself was quite the sight.

“We are going to our dorm, and fixing this I don’t care about what classes you have next. And I’m taking your bra off the second I get there.” Fred stated before walking away, Y/n and George following after him after sharing a look.

They were on their way to the Gryffindor towers when Cormac McLaggen caught sight of them.

“Oi, Y/n, why so angry, love? Need me to make it better?” The comment made Y/n cringe but it was Fred who was fuming.

The mix of jealousy, annoyance, frustration, and the stupid chafing was not a healthy concoction and Cormac felt its wrath.

“I’ll shove your broom so far up your ass, it’ll be coming out of your nose McLaggen. Don’t talk to me again, or I’ll make sure there’s room for two up there.”

Y/n rushed over to Fred’s side and wrapped a long arm around her own shoulders, pulling Fred away. George, at this point, was enjoying this far too much and thought it would be quite funny if they never changed back.

The rest of the way to their dorm went by as smoothly as it could, and soon they were alone in the dorm and the door was locked.

Fred wrestled with his shirt, untucking it aggressively before reaching under his shirt and trying to take the bra off. Never having to take a bra off himself before, he was unable to do and nearly shouted profanities before Y/n put a shoulder on his hand.

“Here, calm down, just don't get any ideas.” She muttered before reaching her hand inside his shirt and unclipping the bra.

He felt like he could breath as the bra loosened around him, and Y/n helped instruct him on how to slip off the loops through each arm hole.

“Thanks.” Fred muttered.

Y/n nodded, “Sorry I can’t help the chafing, any spell I could use wears off pretty quickly.”

Fred nodded and decided that not having an itchy bra on was enough, and sat down on the bed.

“As lovely as that was, we need to figure out how this happened and how to fix it.”

Both Y/n and Fred nodded.

“Also,” Y/n started, “I have to pee now too.”

George pointed towards a door, “Bathrooms there.”

“Alright let’s go.” Fred said walking to the bathroom.

Y/n gave a look of confusion, “Where are you going?”

“To help you.”

She laughed, “I think I can handle this, thanks.”

“I nearly fell in the toilet today trying to pee with my eyes closed, and you’re just going to go in there and ‘handle it’? Wanna see me naked that bad huh?” His tone was cocky as he smirked up at her.

She gave a sarcastic laugh, “You wish, and I have to pee, so if we could please speed up this argument.”

“Fine just don’t - be gentle I take pride in-”

“Yeah, alright I’m going.” Y/n said cutting Fred off.

He was slow to move from in front of the bathroom door, still trying to keep his thighs from touching, so Y/n took matters into her own hands… or well Fred’s hands. Fred let out a yelp as he was lifted off the ground and moved out of the way, George’s giggles sounding from the otherside of the room.

Fred gave him a look, “Shut up.”

--

The three of them brainstormed theories as to why Fred and Y/n had switched bodies, all of them coming up empty. It was the most peculiar thing, it wasn’t like polyjuice, they hadn't changed their own bodies to look like the other, they were the other.

Lee, their roommate, was also let in on the secret seeing as he had to sleep in this room tonight.  He wasn’t aware of it beforehand, having spent the night with his girlfriend the night before and didn’t have the luxury of waking up to George tackling Fred to the wall.

“You can’t think of anything, something you both ate or drank. Maybe someone who wanted some revenge?” Lee asked, looking between Fred and Y/n.

Fred looked at Y/n as he shook his head and she thought before answering, “No, not rea-”

“Oh we are all so dense.” George laughed as had a look of realization.

Everyone looked at him questioningly but Fred was the one to speak up, “What are you getting at?”

George shook his head in disbelief, “The potion, Fred you tasted it and then when you ran into Y/n and spilled it on her she said she had gotten some in her mouth. You both had the potion that we made.”

“Georgie, you’re a genius! Please tell me you wrote down what we put in there.” Fred asked.

George nodded smugly, “Always do, the paper is in my textbook.”

He reached over to the book on the floor and pulled out the piece of paper showing it to everyone.

“We need to make another one. But tomorrow's Saturday and we don’t have potions until Tuesday.” Fred answered as his tone deflated.

Y/n shrugged, “I’ve got the spare key to Snape’s personal supply closet.”

They all turned to look at her in disbelief.

“You...what?” Lee asked slowly.

“Yeah, Snape gave me the spare key. I go in there and take inventory every Monday for extra credit, he lets me use them sometimes too. Doesn’t ask questions.”

Lee gave a chuckle of relief, “I thought you were sleeping with him!”

“Excuse me?” Y/n asked, thoroughly disgusted.

Fred was the one to speak up, “Well, you always had the highest marks in his class, and we saw you going in the direction of his class on multiple occasions late on Mondays so…”

His voice trailed off realizing just how rude it sounded, and his gut turned when he saw the way Y/n slumped, her eyes turning glossy for a hair of a second. In that moment Fred wasn’t watching his own body slump, Y/n’s raw emotion had broken through his exterior and he could’ve sworn he just saw her.

“And it never occurred to you that maybe I get the highest marks because I’m just good at what I do. A natural talent, no of course not I had to be sleeping with the greasy professor because there is no way for me to be smart enough to actually earn the marks I get. Forget practice and dedication, I’m just some whore who opens her legs instead of doing honest work.”

She felt herself getting angrier as she continued, and Fred just felt worse along with George and Lee who had their heads lowered avoiding her gaze. But that didn’t matter because what they thought didn't matter, no, she was looking at Fred. She was speaking to Fred because she had feelings for him and put him on such a high pedestal in her mind and he just saw her as an easy girl, a body and nothing more.

Fred felt the heat of her stare and he wanted to the ground to swallow him whole.

“Y/n-”

She cut him off quickly, “No. We are going to make the potion, fix this, and after that don’t bother speaking to me.”

Y/n stood up and grabbed a sweater that was on Fred’s bed and threw it at him, “Put it on. Sorry to ruin your image of me but I’d rather not have everyone see me braless in a disheveled shirt.”

Fred nodded and didn’t say much else as he threw on his own sweater, the material baggier than usually making his hands disappear in the sleeves. George and Lee looked at him, asking what to do next and he just motioned for them to follow.

Awkward silence ate away at Fred, George, and Lee as they made their way to the dungeons. Y/n wasn’t feeling it, too busy trying to keep the tears at bay, she didn’t care about how awkward they felt.

They made it to the entrance of the common rooms and everyone looked at Fred expectantly.

“What?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You need to go in, I can’t just walk in as Fred Weasley and expect everyone to be ok with it.”

“Right, where are the keys?”

“Inside my dorm there is a trunk on the right side of the room, that’s my trunk, the keys should be in there in a small black drawstring pouch. Get them and leave, don’t talk to anyone.”

Fred nodded and walked to the three skulls on the entrance to the common room.

“Pureblood, that's the password. Say it to the skull that has the snake going through its eyes.”

He looked at each snake, the one in the middle having a snake going through each eye hole and out the mouth. He leaned forward slightly and said the password causing the door to swing open slowly. He walked through and the door closed behind him loudly.

Fred made his way through the common room, people were scattered around doing different things and there was a quiet buzz as everyone talked. He remembered the way to her dorm, seeing as he had to leave it this morning, and quickly found his way. It was empty now, and was significantly darker than before. His hand reached to the back of the skirt he was wearing, finding Y/n’s wand tucked into the waistband. He didn’t have anywhere else to put it earlier considering she didn’t have any pockets.

He cast a quick spell, making all the hanging lanterns in the room grow a bright flame illuminating the room pleasantly. Fred took a moment to look around as he dwelled on what had happened earlier. He had really mucked up his chances with Y/n, he was sure of it. He knew the rumor was stupid and quite literally created by Lee and himself after getting drunk one night. Fred was ranting about how he couldn’t get her to fall at his feet like everyone else and Lee mentioned something about Y/n having someone else. Fred was the one to jokingly say Snape and they just ran with it since then, it had made him feel better when she showed little to no interest in him. He thought everything fit, you were Snape’s favorite and the man never had favorites, obviously Fred had overlooked your actual skill in class to make himself feel better. Now he’s regretting ever saying it, a childish, mindless thing to do and he’s just glad he hadn’t blabbed about it to anyone else outside of Lee and George.

He brought himself back to the task at hand and got to his knees in front of the trunk and opened it. There weren't many things in it, a few folded clothes and a shoe box of pictures. He found the small black pouch in the middle of it all, lying on a stack of pictures and opened it making sure the keys were in it before setting it down next himself before looking back at the pictures. There were a plethora of different ones, some taken with a muggle camera and others taken with a magical camera and his curiosity got the best of him.

Fred thumbed through a few before finding one of just Y/n. She was looking at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, before she rushed forward puckering her lips and then leaning back laughing. He turned it around looking for writing but found none, it was clear someone else had taken the picture and he couldn’t help but feel envious of the person behind the camera who got to see her act so goofy and carefree.

Realizing people were waiting for him he closed the trunk quickly and stood up, tucking the wand into his waistband then folded the picture and tucked it on the other of his waistband before grabbing the pouch and leaving.

He had almost made it back to the door until he heard your name being called, he turned toward the voice and it was none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Could you help me with my potions essay?” His voice was lacking the usual mocking tone, it was earnest and quiet, he seemed embarrassed.

“Uhm…”

Draco got closer, lowering his voice, “It’s just, Professor said you’re really good and you know if I don’t get my marks up in potions my father will skin me.”

His frantic eyes made Fred panic, he was torn between laughing at him and feeling bad but he knew he couldn’t do anything of substance now.

“I need to go… take inventory of Snape’s supplies. Can I help you tomorrow?”

The blonde perked up before trying to calm himself, regaining his cool demeanor Draco nodded then left to join his friends again.

Fred let out a sigh of relief, rushing out of the common room hoping not to come across any more Slytherins.

--

“Alright, give me the list, you guys keep watch.” Y/n instructed the others as they stood outside the door to the supply closet.

Fred saw this as his chance to talk to her alone about the Draco incident, not feeling like he should mention it in front of George and Lee.

“I’ll help you.”

Y/n shook her head, “No, it’s fine.”

“If Snape shows up and sees me in there I think we are going to have a bigger problem. But if I’m with his favorite student Y/n L/n, the punishment will be a lot less severe.” Fred bargained.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Y/n unlocked the door and walked through, Fred following her. She handed Fred a small sack she had gotten from somewhere and he held it open as she silently put in all the ingredients they needed, along with a cauldron.

“I ran into Malfoy. You’re helping him with his potions essay tomorrow.”

She froze before starting to look for another ingredient, “Alright, is that all he said?”

“More or less.” Fred mumbled watching as she went rigid.

The silence returned and Fred shuffled in his spot as she put in the last ingredient they needed. She walked out of the room making Fred follow her, bag of ingredients in hand.

--

Fred, George, and Lee watched as Y/n made the potion quickly, sitting on the floor of their dorm. It was mesmerizing the way she worked, her movements were confident and sure, hardly ever needing to look into the textbook to make sure everything was used correctly.

“You’re really good at that.” George complimented, his tone showing his amazement.

Y/n was monotone, “Thanks.”

Fred grimaced at the guilt settling uncomfortably in his gut, watching as she gave the potion a few more stirs then stopped. It was the same goopy orange color that had the smell of roast chicken.

“That’s it.” Fred confirmed looking at the cauldron.

Y/n nodded, “Alright, since most of the ingredients have a membrane that has touch sensitive properties, that means the potion will probably only work if we drink it the exact same way we did the first time. I could be wrong but better safe than sorry.”

Everyone agreed and soon Fred and Y/n were standing in front of each other with Y/n holding the cauldron. She made a face before dipping her finger into the orange goop then putting in her mouth, making a face.

“Alright now you have t-”

He was cut off by the goopy potion hitting his face and clothes.

“I remember.”

Fred nodded knowing he deserved that and licked his lips getting the potion in his mouth before using her wand to clean everything up.

“We have to fall asleep now.” Y/n concluded.

“Alright, you can take my bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

Fred wasn’t open for debate as he moved his mum's knit blanket and a pillow onto the rug beside his bed, making himself a nice little spot there. Y/n didn’t want to talk any more, so she was fine with not arguing and grabbed his pajama pants she had woken up in and walked to the bathroom to put them on. When she was out of the room, Fred pulled the picture he had snatched from her dorm and slid it into his trunk while he pulled out clothes for himself to wear. Y/n walked out of the bathroom as Fred closed his trunk and walked silently to his bed, Fred went to change, coming out later in a pair of his clean boxer shorts and his green sweater with a letter F on it. Everything was far too big on him then he was used to, and it was odd wearing his boxers with underwear but he respected her far too much to just strip her naked when she had no say in it.

When he came out everyone was already in their beds, the air dense with awkwardness as he slid into his blankets on the floor. Y/n was already asleep, seeing as her breathing was even and shallow as she was curled on her side with her back facing Fred.

The next morning Fred woke up, his feet cold and back… not as sore as he’d expect from laying on the floor. Realizing he wasn’t on the floor anymore he shot up and looked at his hands, they were his hands, and his face was his, and he was back in his body. Then looked onto the floor hoping to see Y/n’s body, but instead being met by his folded sweater and boxers and her own clothes missing. She had left earlier, and Fred should have expected it. She made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him but the empty spot still stung. Quietly, as to not wake George and Lee, he walked over to his trunk and got out the picture he had stolen from her dorm. He crawled back into bed and watched her laugh and smile and pucker up at him as his thumb came up to trace the edge of her cheek on the paper, slowly falling asleep with the picture clutched in his hand.

George pretended not to notice the picture when he woke up later.

--

The next few weeks for Y/n were miserable. She had to first deal with Lily’s rapid fire questions about where she was and why she was showing up to their dorm after missing an entire night, but she assuaged her questions with a look of sadness and defeat. Lily asked no more questions, instead holding her friend as she cried, making Lily assume it was Fred Weasley who had something to do with this.

Y/n ignored both Fred and George in the classes she had with them, and was uncomfortable each time she had to ask Professor Snape a question or if she was called on to help him do something. The admittance of them thinking she was sleeping with the teacher made her self conscious everytime she interacted with him. Fred noticed the change, Snape was always quick to ask Y/n to demonstrate something or help others but after she rejected his offers a few times he stopped doing so.

Fred also missed the witty banter he and Y/n would have, the way she was so smug and confident in her teasing comments to him. Now she avoided him, hardly able to make eye contact as they passed in the halls or in class and George noticed the toll it took on his brother. He had become fully absorbed in watching Y/n from afar, making sure she was alright and no one was bothering her, and the picture of her hardly ever left his grasp. George also noticed Fred sneaking away ingredients from potions class, but deciding against asking Fred about it preferring to have him tell him when he was ready.

It was two months now since the incident when Fred ran around the castle trying to find Y/n. He was out of breath, the container he had neatly put a twine bow around accompanied with a square tag was getting slippery in his hand, and he was about to give up and try again tomorrow when he caught a glimpse of her leg hanging out of a tree that was by the shores of the Black Lake. He caught his breath before making his way to Y/n.

“What is it with you Slytherins and sitting in trees?” He called, tone cautious yet playful.

Y/n didn’t flinch and Fred realized she had probably seen him coming and was hoping he wouldn’t be able to find her, and his smile faltered as she refused to look at him.

“I made you something.” He said, getting her to turn to look at the container as he set it down at the base of the tree.

She stayed silent, looking at the lake once again as Fred shoved his hands into his pockets.

He took his opportunity and slowly rocked back and forth before starting, “I’m sorry about everything. I never really thought you were, it made me feel better to think so lowly of you when you didn’t swoon at my every word. It was stupid and ridiculous and I’m sorry, Y/n. I like you, a lot, and I didn’t know how to handle you not sharing my feelings. Being you, having to deal with the calls and names in the halls, I would get angry and jealous. I thought they were disgusting and I never realized I was just the same as them.”

Fred paused, watching as a slow tear rolled down her face before she quickly wiped it away.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly and went to walk away before he heard her voice.

“You were wrong.” She stated quietly, Fred staying silent hoping she would continue.

“I always liked you, I thought you were funny and charming. I always thought so highly of you, Fred, and you thought I was shagging a teacher for better marks.” Y/n kept her eyes ahead, still refusing to look at him and her words were painful as they hit him.

Fred took in a breath, feeling incredibly stupid, “I’m downright git, aren’t I?”

Y/n didn’t answer and Fred turned around, knowing when he wasn’t wanted anymore, and made his way back to the castle. Y/n turned to see he was already out of earshot and she got down from the tree carefully before grabbing the container on the floor. The tag read:

‘Chafing balm, made it myself. Should work, I tested it on myself and there were no negative effects though I understand if you don't trust it. It’ll work for twenty four hours, I remember you saying nothing lasted long enough. Also it smells like vanilla, I didn’t know what you preferred so I went with my favorite. I hope this works. I remember how incredibly aggravating this was back when I was you.

All my love,

Fred Weasley.’

Y/n laughed as she opened the container and smelled it, only Fred Weasley would make something like this. She giggled remembering the way he was walking around as her with his legs apart and an angry face.

She then looked back to his retreating form, and he was just barely visible when she decided to go after him. Y/n sprinted in his direction as she called after him, but he was still too far to hear her. With a huff she sped up as much as she could and continued to shout his name, after the third shout he turned around and stopped.

Y/n caught up to him and took a few deep breaths as she took a moment to regain her composure.

“You are a pompous ass, Fred Weasley.” She stated, pointing at him. “Thinking you could win me over with some stupid chafing balm that you made, because if thats what you were thinking... it worked.”

It was a few seconds before Fred realized what she had said, “Come again?”

“It worked. I have been won over with a sickeningly sweet gift and I hate myself for it but there’s no use in fighting that I am head over heels in love with a downright git.”

Y/n gave a smug smile as Fred had the mischievous glint return to his eyes. He moved toward her quickly, arms going around her waist, pulling her into himself and crashing his lips onto hers. She returned the kiss making him let out a low groan, almost growl like, into her mouth making her give a short whimper.

The kiss was passionate and angry, all of their feelings flooding into the kiss making it was almost too intense to handle. Fred could remember all the times he wished he could do this, the times where all he wanted to do was grab her and hold her as his own. His hands came up to hold her face, in place as their teeth clashed. Fred grew fed up with the dull ache in his neck as he leaned down to kiss her. So he was quick to swoop down and slide his arm under the curve of her butt, making her jump and wrap her legs around his hips.

She broke away and her chest heaved as she looked into Fred’s eyes. They were brown, with different shades of caramel layered in his irises. Fred now had both hands holding her up as he took in the sight of her swollen lips, and heavy breathes, feeling incredibly proud of himself. Y/n reached a hand up to let her thumb run across his chin and jaw before slowly lowering herself to kiss him again.

Fred met her lips, and this kiss was far more reserved than the first. Both of them were careful with the other as their movements were slow and curious. He was the one to pull away this time making her give a quiet whine in protest before regaining composure and moving to stand on her own two feet.

“I think we have a date tonight, I’ll pick you up in front of your common room at 7:00?” Fred asked, a smirk coming to grace his lips.

Y/n nodded, suddenly shy under his gaze, “Yeah, 7:00.”

[maybanksbitch]

The Bathroom || JJ Maybank

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

pairing: jj x reader

prompt: jj follows you to the bathroom after seeing some random try and pick you up. he reminds you who you belong to.

requested: no

warnings: jealousy, absolutely filthy smut, choking, spanking, hair pulling, biting, daddy kink, unprotected sex (10/10 wouldn’t recommend; wrap it before you tap it).

a/n: i’m not kidding y’all, this is FILTHY and very graphic. i’m warning you. it’s also pretty long, sorry.

You let out a hum and raised your eyebrows in mock amusement at something the boy in front of you said. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying. You were just entertaining him for the moment.

“So, uh, what do you say we- we uh, get out of here?” the guy, Jason, maybe, tried to ask confidently. He was failing miserably, deep down knowing you were uninterested.

You let out a small laugh as you stood up and patted him on the shoulder. At least he tried. “Sorry buddy, better luck with the next one,” you smiled before turning and walking away in search of the bathroom. You just wanted to clear your head for a minute and escape the rooms packed with Kooks.

There was a line outside the one downstairs so you quickly climbed the winding staircase to use Sarah’s. This was her party after all, and she made you and your friends come. You knew she wouldn’t mind you using her bathroom, anyone else would be a different story.

You didn’t hear the footsteps that followed you up the stairs or down the hallway. As you opened the door and flipped on the light, a body pushed you into the room and then slammed you against the closed door. You nearly punched them straight in the face until you recognized the grey cut off tank and the shark tooth necklace hanging around the person’s neck.

“God JJ, you scared me,” you breathed and leaned your head back against the door to look up at him.

Blonde curls hung around his face as his hands kept you pinned to the door. His usually bright blue eyes were now a darker shade. His jaw was clenched, making his cheekbones jut out the slightest bit.

“Did you think that was cute?” JJ’s voice was deep and taunting, causing a chill to run up your spine.

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

Your breath hitched when you felt the cold rings on his fingers against your throat. His fingertips squeezed just slightly, causing heat to flood throughout your body. “Was it fun flirting with that guy, knowing I was right across the room? Did you think that was cute?” he repeated the same question as before, voice coming out almost growl like.

His fingers squeezed a bit harder, demanding an answer but also just trying to rile you up. JJ knew all your kinks. He knew how to turn you on in all of the best ways.

“No,” you whimpered, squirming under his grip against the door.

JJ brought his other hand up quickly, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of your head. He pulled, forcing your head back and exposing more of your skin to him. It didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything he was doing went straight to your most intimate spot.

“No what?”

“No sir,” you whispered, lips trembling as they parted and you sucked in a breath.

“That’s my good girl,” JJ muttered with a smirk, hand leaving your hair and your neck to grab your hips instead.

You slid your hands under the front of his shirt, fingertips tracing the defined muscles of abs. His lips came down against yours hard and hungry. His teeth dragged against your bottom lip as he tugged on it. When your lips parted in a gasp, he wasted no time, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

He got a hint of strawberry, from the punch you’d been drinking. He tasted of beer and weed with a hint of mint, something you were so used to but couldn’t get enough of. It was like you were drunk just from kissing each other. You’d both never felt anything like it before.

Your hands left the soft skin of JJ’s chest, sliding up his muscular biceps and into his blonde hair. Your nails brushed his scalp as you tugged on the strands, pulling a strangled moan from the tall male’s throat.

You were spun around quickly, in a daze you caught a glimpse JJ’s crazed eyes in the mirror. You looked at yourself instead. Your hair was disheveled, pupils blown, lips puffy and brighter from the kissing. JJ smirked in the reflection and brushed your hair to the opposite side, fingers trailing from your jaw down to your collar bone. You could see that your nipples had hardened and were peaking through the bikini and crop top you were wearing.

“Look at you, all worked up,” JJ whispered in your ear, wet lips dragging down the side of your neck. He sucked at a spot where your neck met your shoulder and bit down somewhat harshly. After a moment he pulled back and admired the red mark he’d left that would be purple tomorrow.

You felt his large hand in between your shoulder blades and you were pushed forward, bending over the counter. JJ pressed his hips against your ass and you could feel his erection, hard and prodding between your cheeks.

“You want it don’t you? Want me to fuck you over this counter, right here just like this?” he slid his hand down your spine and landed a loud slap to your exposed ass where your shorts had ridden up.

A whimper left your lips as you pressed back against the blonde, grinding your backside against his bulge. “Yes, daddy. Please fuck me. I need your cock,” you whined, looking over your shoulder. JJ’s eyes locked on yours and he lost all control.

Your shorts were ripped off without warning, bikini bottoms following quickly after. You kicked you bottoms off the best you from your compromised position and shivered as the chilly bathroom air met your wet core. JJ kicked your legs apart and you watched in the mirror as his hand disappeared behind you.

You gasped as you felt his calloused pointer finger and middle finger slide through your folds, teasing your clit with soft and slow circles. His mouth fell open a bit when he felt how wet you were. He slipped both fingers into your entrance with little to no resistance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” JJ said huskily, pulling his fingers out and wrapping his arm around your front. He met your eyes in the mirror and held his fingers right in front of your face. His pupils were blown so wide you almost couldn’t see any of his crystal blue irises.

“Suck,” he commanded, dimples becoming prominent as he smirked when your mouth dropped open.

You took JJ’s fingers into your mouth, his eyes glued on your lips the whole time. You put on a show for him as your tongue swirled around the digits and you let him push them down your throat to the last knuckle.

You don’t know when he got his pants undone or how with one hand for that matter. You moaned loudly around JJ’s fingers, nearly bitting down, when you felt the head of his length slip into you, the rest of it entering swiftly after. The blonde’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in pleasure when he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Ah, shit,” JJ hissed, ripping his fingers from you’re your mouth and gripping onto your hips. “You’re always so fucking tight.”

His rhythm was slow as he started fucking you, pulling back slowly until just the head of his cock was missing and equally slowly pressing back in. For a minute, JJ watched himself thrust into you. The way your juices glistened on his shaft made his mouth water.

He looked back up to see you watching him in the mirror, lip tight between your teeth. He sent you a quick wink and slammed into you forcefully. It was like the moan you let out was forced out by his dick. His pace turned borderline brutal at that point. You didn’t know someone’s hips could move that fast. The vulgar sound of skin slapping on skin filled the bathroom, as well as your loud moans. JJ let out a few grunts but tried to remain quiet, just wanting to hear you.

Your head fell forward at some point. The cold porcelain felt good against your hot skin, sweat already collecting at the hairline on your forehead. You knew the feeling all too well, the feeling of JJ wrapping your hair around his fist in a make-shift ponytail. All he had to do was pull his wrist back the slightest bit to lift your head.

“Head up. I wanna see you. I wanna see how good I make you feel,” JJ’s voice was stern but tense. No matter how many times you had sex, it was just as good as the last, if not better. He felt like a virgin again, trying not to cum from the slightest touch.

You felt out of control of your own body. You couldn’t stop the noises leaving you. You couldn’t close your mouth or cease the shaking of your thighs. You couldn’t help it when your hands reached back and held desperately to the blonde’s forearms, like it would ground you to the world in some way.

A shout left your lips as JJ’s cock brushed your g-spot. Your nails dug into his skin as he continued his assault against it. If anyone was outside of that bathroom door, they would likely think there was a porno being shot inside.

“Yes, fuck, JJ- Right there,” you gasped out.

JJ’s hips stilled, pelvis pressing into your ass. You knew your hips would be bruised from the edge of the counter. He let out a growl and pulled you up by your hair, your head and back arching almost unnaturally. His chest was now pressed against your shoulder blades, mouth right next to your ear.

“What’s my name?” he growled in your ear, holding your gaze in the reflection.

“Daddy. Daddy, I’m sorry. Please, I wanna cum. Make me cum, daddy, please,” you begged the boy behind you.

JJ kept you in that position as he started pounding into you once again. Hearing those words leave your lips almost made him cum right then and there. He was pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. He pulled on your hair with each movement he made. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Gonna cum on daddy’s cock, babygirl? Hm? Who’s pussy is this? Who’s the only one who can fuck you this good?” JJ’s voice was low in your ear, a groan slipping out here and there. His hand slipped down your stomach, the other still holding tightly to your hair. His fingers slowly circled your clit. It was so light your knees nearly gave out, a very different contrast to the animalistic thrusting of his hips.

“Yours! It’s all yours. N-No one can fuck me like you. Please!” you practically sobbed, overcome with pleasure as you tried not to cum before allowed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pleaded through the mirror for JJ to let you have your release.

“Go ahead baby,” JJ muttered before his mouth latched onto your neck.

His fingers made quick work against your clit now, a wet noise coming from down below. Your hands flew up to his hair and his neck, wherever you could reach. You gripped onto whatever you could as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Your orgasm hit you so hard your vision went white, eyes squeezing shut. A loud, broken moan left your lips, tearing up your throat. Your legs shook so violently you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you were relying on him to do that for you.

Your pussy gripped JJ like a vice as you came. You became so tight around him he almost thought he might not be able to pull out. He stuttered out a few more thrusts before muttering, “Fuck, m’gonna cum.”

He forced you to your knees with little effort. Your legs were jelly at that point anyway. He held you by the hair as his hand gripped his cock and stroked fast. You obediently opened your mouth, tongue out and all as you waited.

“Oh-Oh shit- Fuck,” JJ gasped when your eyes opened, wide, wet and innocent, staring up at him.

The groan he let out could probably be heard over the music downstairs as he let go. JJ’s cum shot out so hard he missed your mouth at first, the thick white substance ending up on your forehead and down your cheek, thankfully not in your eye.

You waited until he milked himself dry, licking up the little drop at the end of his tip before swallowing what made it in your mouth.

JJ fell back against the wall, head back and eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath. You grabbed a washcloth from under the sink and cleaned your face off the best you could without looking. You didn’t trust yourself to try and stand yet.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” JJ breathed out through pants, finally opening his eyes to look down at you then his thighs. He grinned slightly as he noticed his leg hair was stuck to the skin of his thighs. “Didn’t know you were a squirter.”

A blush spread across your cheeks and down your neck, hands covering your face. You weren’t embarrassed, just equally surprised. When you finally felt the heat subside, you looked up at the blonde and smiled lazily.

“I think that was the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Think?! Oh, I know that wa-” JJ went silent when there was a knock at the door.

“Shit,” you whispered and rushed to your feet.

You hurried to put back on your bikini bottoms and shorts, ignoring the numbness in your legs. JJ pulled up his underwear and secured his pants in record time. He fixed your top for you as you buttoned your shorts and cleared your throat.

When you finally opened the door a smidge, you smiled sweetly at Sarah who was on the other side. She furrowed her brow as she noticed your messy hair, until she saw JJ in the mirror.

“Oh, God.. You didn’t,” was all she said. She slapped a hand over her eyes when you opened the door wider and she saw that both of you were covered in sweat. The bathroom absolutely reaked of sex. “In my bathroom?!”

“It was his idea!” you quickly put all blame on the blonde behind you.

JJ put his hand over his chest in mock offense but quickly dropped it. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and hooked his chin over your shoulder.

“Sorry, Sarah,” he mumbled and pouted playfully at your friend.

Sarah scoffed but laughed slightly anyway, turning around and walking back towards the stairs. “You are both totally bleaching that whole bathroom tomorrow!” she called to you, only half joking.

JJ pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek and hummed softly in thought. He then nuzzled his nose against the spot and whispered, “Totally worth it.”

masterlist

[xiao-cafe]

drabble game — prompt 67

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

prompt: “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

tags: fluff, grumpy diluc, healer!reader

wc: 1.3k

notes: in the part with the chest i don’t mean like a female chest but like a normal human chest that’s up to your interpretation ^^ also thank you to @spoiledmoras​ for requesting this! i rushed the ending bc if i went on it would’ve become a full-fledged fic and im not ready for that kind of commitment

The moon hung high and bright in the sky as Diluc limped his way back to Mondstadt. With each step forward, the next step became harder as his legs threatened to give way beneath him.

It wasn’t like him to be injured so badly while protecting Mondstadt in the middle of the night but simple recklessness took a hold of him and he had rashly put himself in danger for the sake of intercepting a few Abyss Mages and the hordes of hilichurls they led.

Granted, his injury was merely a result of his rashness that led to him falling off the cliff after swinging his claymore too widely, making such a rookie mistake weighed heavily on him as he recalled why he had been so agitated in the first place.

Exhaling heavily, Diluc cast a withering glare at the steps leading up to the Cathedral. He had always been one up for some light exercise but his bones ached at the thought of dragging himself all the way up to get some medical help.

“I should’ve gone back to the Winery…” The red-headed man muttered to himself. He glanced back at the route he had taken, the gears spun in his head as he calculated his chances of making it back to the Winery before daybreak or even surviving the night.

But his thoughts were interrupted as you appeared before him, like an angel in the dark.

“Y/N.” He greeted smoothly as he attempted to stand up straighter. The sight of Mondstadt’s newest healer was a welcoming one for Diluc.

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you observed Diluc looking dishevelled and nothing alike the refined gentleman he always appeared to be.

“Master Diluc.” You responded, eyes roving from his face to his feet. “You’re injured.” You gasped, pointing at his knees.

The man nodded quietly, refusing to explain any further.

One of the things Diluc disliked about you was your unnatural ability to pinpoint when something was up with a person. Your questioning gaze searched his face for answers but Diluc remained stone-faced as you guided him to the fountain by the plaza.

“I know this isn’t the most comfortable of places but I don’t think I could carry you all the way back to the Cathedral.” You said to the man as you helped him move into a seated position with his legs outstretched.

“It’s fine,” He answered, grimacing slightly as pain flared in his legs.

“Pardon me,” You whispered as you rolled up his pants, your face bore no emotion as you assessed the extent of his injuries. Your hands were cool to the touch as your fingers brushed against his skin lightly. As much as he’d hate to admit it, your touch calmed him down and the simmering rage that burned within him seemed to dissipate.

“You’ve been getting hurt more frequently as of late, is something on your mind?” You asked him, unaware that a pair of scarlet eyes were trying to burn a hole into your face for asking a simple question.

“It’s nothing.” Diluc answered stiffly, crossing his arms as he spoke.

The man wondered how much longer you’d take to fix him up and how many more intrusive questions would you ask during that time.

“You sure?”

Diluc sighed deeply, causing you to look up from your work in concern.

“I am. Fine.” He stated quietly, an underlying tone of anger laced his voice as he directed a steely glare at you.

Nevertheless, you were undisturbed by his grumpiness.

“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so.” You told him, a reassuring smile donned your lips as you continued, “Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.” 

Were you… giving him advice?

An unknown emotion erupted in Diluc‘s chest as he glared at you as you worked, your hands hovered above his wounds as you healed him with your powers.

“I have no need to disclose personal matters with you.” Diluc said, breaking the silence.

“I know.”

Diluc gritted his teeth, why would you ask if you had known in the first place?

“I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help,” You stated, answering his unspoken question.

“You’re always coming back to the city this late in the night, injured, and as someone who’s been healing you for the past few weeks I’ve just been feeling a little worried that’s all.”

It was true. Diluc knew he wasn’t being himself, throwing himself at monsters every chance he got. And the fact that you always happened to be around when he needed a healer was something he greatly appreciated. 

Perhaps he had been too harsh…

“Klee’s always saying that you never smile and I guess that’s true!” You laughed pointing at him.

Even without a mirror, Diluc knew exactly what you had meant and your laughter only served as oil to be added to the growing flames.

As time passed, the pressure on his brow lifted and the quiet anger quickly turned into approval (and a hint of admiration) while you finished up the healing process, unfurling his pant leg to signify that you were done.

“I’ve done as much as I could but you should definitely follow me to the Cathedral so you can receive proper treatment.” You stated, perspiration coated your forehead which you promptly wiped away with your sleeve.

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Diluc answered, refusing your outstretched hand in offer. 

“Oh, but I’ve only alleviated the pain, the injury is still-” Your words were interrupted as the red-haired man attempted to stand up, only to fall forward and into your arms.

You let out a yelp as Diluc’s weight sent the both of you crashing into the cobbled floors.

“Are you okay?!” Your voice was high as you lifted Diluc’s face from your chest.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t support your weight.” You blurted out and continued to apologize profusely even as Diluc lifted himself off of you with his arms and rolled over.

“Your face is red, do you have a fever!?” You pressed your palm to Diluc’s cheek, “You’re burning up!”

Diluc remained composed despite his flushed cheeks, his face felt warm and the way you touched him in such an unrestrained manner didn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, he wanted more.

You were a rambling mess as you fussed over him, checking his temperature and if his injury had worsened.

Diluc narrowed his eyes at you as he let you help him sit up, he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hold you. But he let you press your body next to his as his arm slung around your shoulders and you lifted him from the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’m prepared to support you this time!” You assured him, to which Diluc responded with a low unconvinced hum.

Yet, a hint of a smile was evident on his lips as you walked with him up the many stairs, until the both of you reached the Cathedral, out of breath.

“We’re… Here…” You panted, your legs complained with each step you took but you ignored the limits of your body and focused on getting Diluc some much needed medical help.

In truth, Diluc had already gotten used to the initial soreness in his legs. With the pain gone, he could still walk even though he was certain the bone within hasn’t mended but the man wasn’t about to tell you that.

In his eyes, you were strange, asked many invasive questions, yet you stirred something deep in his heart and he would rather compliment Kaeya than to say what was on his mind.

Even as you called for Barbara, you stayed by his side. Making sure he was comfortable and assisting Barbara whenever you could.

Although, the blush on his face still wouldn’t go away.

end.

end notes: this was also unedited bc its 1am and im sleepy lmao

[ectoentity]

Warped Mirror

Decided to write something based vaguely on the “Spork AU” idea. Instead of Episode 1 Danny meeting Episode 50+ Danny, though, I was curious about a Danny who never became Phantom meeting one who had. This first part is just establishing Human!Danny’s world.

I’ll post it to AO3 when I have the rest of it finished.

---

Three kids stood before a giant machine in the shape of a door. It should have been humming along and glowing green, with a great hole to another world in the middle. Instead, it was cold and silent. 

“They spent years working on it,” Danny explained, “and then nothing. Mom and Dad have been moping in their room all day.”

Tucker looked around at the portal and the hodgepodge of computer parts attached to it. “It’s probably a loose wire somewhere. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“In the meantime, this would make for an awesome picture,” Sam said with a smile. She held up her polaroid camera. 

“Oh no, you’re not getting me anywhere near that,” Tucker immediately walked away from the portal.

“Come on! When they get this thing working we’ll never be allowed near it. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to do anything right now.”

“Then why don’t you get over there and let one of us take the picture?” Tucker asked.

“Because neither of you know anything about lighting or framing a shot. Please?” When she saw that Tucker was not going to budge, she looked over at Danny with wide, pleading eyes. 

He looked anxiously at the portal. So far none of his parents’ inventions had really worked, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. Still, Sam was right. It was pretty cool, and getting a picture with the thing could be a good way to keep a memory.

“Yeah, okay, let me put on a jumpsuit in case there’s a live wire or something.”

Ten minutes later he was suited up in the white-and-black safety jumpsuit his parents had made for him. It wasn’t really a hazardous materials outfit - there was no full hood or respirator, or even goggles. It was made of something that was supposed to repel ectoplasm and certain chemicals that his parents used and was insulated against minor shocks, so it would have to do. 

“Oh, no no. I’m not taking your picture while you’re wearing that,” Sam announced. Danny was about to argue, but she reached over and pulled the sticker of his dad’s face off of the suit. “Now you’re good.”

Danny laughed. “Good thinking, Sam. Wouldn’t want to be immortalized in your photos with that on me.” He walked up to the portal. It was a massive piece of machinery, nearly six feet in diameter and deep enough to fit a car. He paused at the entrance. It was hard to imagine it as anything other than a creepy machine in the basement. If it had worked, it would have opened into a whole other world. 

Tucker, meanwhile, was watching while anxiously tapping a foot. He had expected Danny to give in to Sam’s pleas. He was so predictable and utterly clueless. One of these days they would both realize that they were both desperately crushing on each other and they’d-

There was something plugged into the wall. Tucker wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it. 

“Hold up!” he shouted. Tucker went over and unplugged the cord from the wall outlet, and checked around for more outlets just in case. When he didn’t find anything else, he called back, “Okay, I think it’s alright now.”

“Good thinking, Tuck,” Danny’s voice echoed in the portal. “Hey, Sam, is this good?”

Sam set up her shot. “Looks great! Just hold there a second.” She counted down before the flash went off. The camera whirred and produced a polaroid. “Lemme take a couple more,” she said before swiftly doing so from slightly different angles. “That should be good!”

Danny started to walk out of the portal. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell backwards, flailing his arms wildly in hopes that he would catch something. His right hand hit the side of the portal. It stabilized him for a second, but then the wall clicked. Danny stared down at his hand, a chill lancing up his spine. He hadn’t hit the wall. His hand was resting on a button marked “ON.”

“Oh my god,” he blurted.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Sam called. He could hear them both scrambling toward the portal. 

“I’m good! I just tripped!” Danny got out of the portal as fast as he could. “My parents put the on/off buttons on the inside! If Tucker hadn’t unplugged it…” All three teens stared at the portal. Danny could have died, just for tripping over a stupid wire.

Finally Tucker gulped and broke the silence. “Want to see if your parents can get it to work now?”

Danny shook himself out of it. “Yeah! I’ll go ask if they forgot about that.”

They all but ran out of the lab.

---

The Fenton RV sped down the street, ghost alarms blaring. In the back, Danny got his weapons together as quickly as he could with all the jostling and swerving. They’d let Dad drive; time was of the essence.

“A level six!” Jack crowed from the driver’s seat. “Maybe even a seven! How long’s it been since we saw one like that?”

“About four months,” Danny grumbled. He still vividly remembered when the town had been drawn into the Ghost Zone and besieged with an army of skeleton constructs. He was not looking forward to a repeat of that hell. The Fenton Blaster in his hands whined as he attached the power source. 

“We’ll have to be careful, Jack,” Mom cautioned as she always did. “We don’t have the Ecto-Skeleton this time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call in the Guys in White?” Danny asked. They might not be the best ghost hunters, but they did have a lot more firepower.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny! I’m sure we can take care of this before they even notice something’s happening. Besides, your mom and I are still dealing with the paperwork from the last time they showed up.”

Danny shuddered. He was extremely glad that he didn’t have to deal with that aspect of ghost hunting. 

His dad pulled up to the mall with a loud honk of the horn and squealing tires. Danny and his mom ran out, blasters held at the ready. Dad backed them up with one of the Fenton Bazookas. 

The mall was already evacuated. Some people milled around outside, anxiously talking amongst themselves. In the year and a half since the ghosts had started attacking the town, people had gotten frustratingly complacent about them. The invasion a few months back had shown most people just how dangerous they could be, but a stubborn few always were more concerned with getting good pictures than their own safety. 

“Make way!” Mom shouted. “We’re here to take care of the ghost!” The crowd at least did part for them. A few people shouted at them. Some of it was words of support. A few tried to describe what they had seen - it was green, it was wearing all white, it was terrifying. Only a few made jokes or jeered at the Fentons as they passed. That was annoying, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a year ago. 

The deserted mall was an eerie sight. Everyone had left in a hurry, leaving lights on and store music still echoing through empty halls. The Fentons’ footsteps seemed far too loud. The weirdest part was that everything seemed intact. When the technology ghost raided the mall he usually left trails of rubble and discarded packaging everywhere. The box ghost would leave piles of everything that he dumped out of his beloved boxes. Various other ghosts had attacked the mall in the past, and they almost always left signs of their passing. Why was this one different?

“Come out, ghost!” Dad shouted, his voice easily carrying through the empty mall. “Let’s make this quick!”

“Curious.” The voice was quiet, but had the same unnatural echo of all ghosts. Danny held up his blaster, but he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. Beside him, his mom turned on her miniature Fenton Finder. It beeped alarmingly quickly. 

“Two o’clock!” Mom shouted as she fired. Danny was only a moment slower, trying to fire a little ahead. The blasts didn’t connect with anything. 

“I mean no harm,” the ghost said. Its voice was way too close for comfort. Danny turned to his right and shot where he thought it was, but he still missed. 

“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t really care. No matter what their obsessions were, ghosts only ever wanted to spread chaos and pain. Still, sometimes he could distract them by talking back. 

The ghost appeared in front of them. It was tall, with dark, green-tinged skin and a lighter beard. Its eyes glowed a soft yellow. A white robe and hood covered most of its body, rippling in a nonexistent breeze. 

A green beam from the Fenton Bazooka blasted towards the ghost. Its torso split apart to allow the beam to go through it. Danny grimaced. It was so gross when they did that. He followed his dad’s lead and started shooting the ghost. The ghost blocked all of his and Mom’s shots with a series of small green shields. 

“This is entirely unnecessary,” the ghost huffed. It had the audacity to look bored. 

“Then why not just go back to the Ghost Zone and leave us alone?” Danny shouted, annoyed. He ran off to the side, flanking the ghost. It finally started dodging the ectoblasts. If anything, though, the ghost just looked amused. 

“Oh, I shall. First, though…” The ghost flung its hand out towards Danny. He winced, anticipating the burn of ectoblasts. He took a step back and his foot sank. With a shout, he fell into the glowing green portal that had opened right behind him.

[lustbile-archive]

Abandoned

MarkxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warnings: Smut. Exploring an abandoned building with your friend on halloween sounds like a terrible idea, but what happens isn’t terrible, only incredibly weird. Monster!Mark. (also I feel like this may be the weirdest thing i’ve written so take that as you will)

Part 2 Here

This is the final installment of my halloween fic week. Info about blurb night here

You’re not sure why you let your friend convince you to go in the abandoned building at all, but on halloween night of all nights, you’re sure you must have had a death wish.

Firstly, the building didn’t even look safe. Even on a good day with the sun out and the birds singing, the building was old and run down, the only thing really remaining being a rotting shell. And the building itself even had a reputation. Older people in your town spread rumors about monsters that lived there and accidental deaths that occurred when there was still work being done within its walls, and of course you never took it to heart, but something about the chill in the air and the nature of the holiday made the old wives tales swirl in your mind and tug at your nerves.

But regardless of your fear, you went anyways. Your best friend had a sparkling look in her eye that made it virtually impossible to deny her of a creepy venture into the hazardous building, so with an agreement that you couldn’t leave each other’s sides and a 30 minute time limit, you hesitantly entered one of its broken door ways.

It wasn’t bad at first, enough so that you didn’t even feel scared anymore. Yeah it was old, and gross, but still empty. Wood creaked and the floor sunk in a few places, mysterious dried liquid dripped from the floors above and there was a faint stench of rotting, but in the end it was just a building.

As you walked through the rooms, each of you trying to find the grossest thing to jokingly gag at, you could feel your guard falling. Even a large rat running past you only got a yelp from the two of you, but you continued on.

And maybe you got too comfortable. You and your friend would take turns running ahead a few times, hiding behind walls to jump out at each other, and the 30 minute time limit was long forgotten, the you that existed before you entered the building would be disappointed. But the you that existed before you entered would be downright disgusted by what you did next.

“It looks so pretty,” you drawl out with a grin on your face as you stand in one of the building’s many hallways, the glimmering glass that’s scattered on the floor of the room catching your eye as you stare through its door’s small window.

“I dunno,” you friend hesitates as she squeezes her face next to yours, “it’s pretty and all but I’m afraid it could cut up my feet, like there’s so much glass.”

“That’s what you get for wearing sandals to go through an abandoned building you freak,” you tease as you pull away from the window, a faux look of disappointment on your face, “c’mon I just wanna get a couple of pictures please?”

“And no ones stopping you,” she retorts as she mirrors your stance, “I’m just not going to go in with you because I don't want bloody feet.”

“Are you serious right now?” you gawk, a petulant pout falling on your face, “you promised we wouldn’t split up.”

“And we don’t have to,” she says before turning to walk away, her smug voice carrying over her shoulder, “it just depends on how badly you want that picture.”

You standby there for a moment, watching her slowly retreating form with your arms crossed defiantly over your shoulders . You glance between the dark corridor that she enters and the room to your side a few times before you huff.

“Well, don’t go too far!” you yell out before turning and opening the door, “I’ll just take a few pictures so I won’t be long!”

You only hear her response of agreement faintly as the door shuts behind you, the heavy metal closing with a loud bang and making you jump.

The air is a few degrees cooler than it was in the hallway, the bite of it making a chill run up your spine. Your hand shakes as you pull your phone from the pocket of your skirt and squat down to begin taking pictures.

The flash of your phone makes the glass shine beautifully, a bright shimmer that makes small rainbows dance across the walls. Your shoes drag through the piles of glass as you move around, a quiet crunching noise following you everywhere you move.

You’re moving to the far corner of the room when you see it, a pitch black closet that’s missing it’s door, the placement of it making it impossible to see from the hall. Just looking at it makes your skin crawl, and you stay with your back pressed to the opposite wall.

“Just a few more,” you murmur to yourself, squatting down again to get a better angle. Your flash only goes off a few times before you see it.

You try to tell yourself that it’s just your imagination, that the eerie feeling of the building and the fact that you’re on your own is just making you see things. But as you lift your phone towards the doorway of the closet and take another picture you see it again for the split second the flash is on.

You’re frozen in your spot and your stomach turns as your brain tries to wrap itself around what stands in front of you. The outline of a figure burned into your eyes as you felt your rapidly beating heart clog your throat.

You try to convince yourself that maybe it’s an old vacuum or broom that you saw incorrectly, but as you find the strength to lift your phone to check the photo you feel nauseous when you see him clearly.

“Did I scare you?” a soft and concerned voice sounds from the closet making you yelp as you jump to stand, the sound of your phone falling to the floor and cracking on impact ringing out.

He creeps from the dark, entering the dim lighting of the room as the full moon shines through its window. His face is slim, and his eyes are wild as he watches you, his feet moving slowly and dragging on the floor with an inhuman gait as he walks closer. You’re backed into the corner of the room as you watch him approach you as if you’re a spooked animal.

“I didn’t think you’d see me,” he laughs quietly but you're too scared to respond, your voice completely lost as you watch the boy creep towards you.

“Don’t talk much huh?” he asks, the smile on his face growing unnaturally as he speaks, the sight of him making your face grimace and press harder into the wall as you try to create more distance between you.

It’s not that he was ugly, no if he was normal you would think he’s really cute. But there was something wrong, something off. The way his shoulder slumped and his legs carried him, his smile that stretched across his face too wide and his eyes that shake and burn into your skin as he watches you. From a distance he would look like a normal boy, but as he gets closer, only a few feet at this point, there’s a nagging voice in your mind that tells you that whatever stands before you, is not human.

“Wow,” he speaks as his eyes trail the length of your body, his stare making a weird heat spread over your skin, “you’re so pretty.”

Your heart drops at his words, not only what they mean but also what follows. He’s only an arms length away, and when he’s halfway through the last word, a thick black liquid spills from his mouth.

There’s a soft pattering sound as the liquid hits the floor in drops, the sight of it making your mouth hang open as your lunch turns in your stomach. You can feel your body tremor as you try to connect what’s happening in front of you in your brain.

“So, so pretty,” he continues to mutter as he gets in your personal space. The liquid that bubbles from his lips with every syllable is completely void of any smell as his face moves only inches away from yours, but his eyes ignore yours as they widen with confusion as his are trained on your chest and torso.

“I’ve never been this close to someone else before,” he admits before his hands start to tug at the hem of your shirt. The shock of the situation continues to stop you from speaking, but it’s when his hands start to trail up your stomach and towards your chest, that you start to believe that you’re some sort of deprived. Something about the heat of his hands runs a shiver up your spine, and when they press against your chest, you let out an involuntary whimper.

“Can I see you?” he asks, moving his eyes to meet yours and his hands to the buttons of your shirt. You’re not sure what makes you nod, but the movement is happening before you can think about what the question entails. The grin that pulls on his face in response makes your blood cold, and his nimble fingers begin to pop open the buttons of your shirt one by one.

“Wow,” he whispers out once your shirt hangs open, your bralette being the only thing covering your chest. He doesn’t show any interest in removing the fabric, but his hands return to pet over your skin.

There’s a heavy pause where his hands grope and mold over your skin, and you only stand still as he moves against you. With the black that drips from his lips and the way he stands before you terrifies you, but you also feel disappointed in yourself as the feeling of his hands makes your muscles lose their tension and your eyes fall closed.

After a moment of his hands exploring you, you feel his eyes return to your skin. You slowly peak your eyes open, and when they connect with his, you take in a shuddering breath.

He doesn’t speak, just stares at you for a moment, his intense eyes making you feel like whatever is happening before you isn’t real. The way he watches you makes you feel like maybe he can hear your thoughts, as you can almost see the gears in his head turning as he thinks. You’re about to try to speak again when he lunges at you and his mouth latches on the side of your neck.

You let out a loud gasp at the heat of his mouth suddenly on your skin. A part of you thought he was going to bite you, rip out your throat with his teeth even, but all you feel is his tongue starting to lap at the skin and the warm liquid streak up your neck.

He groans against you, his mouth kissing and sucking at the skin of your jaw. You feel yourself melting against the feeling, almost fully succumbing to the feeling when you notice it start to get weird. His tongue begins to lick at the place that his mouth covers, slipping past his chin a few times, but after a few heavy licks, you feel it gaining more surface area.

While his mouth stays on and around the same space of your jaw, his tongue has begun to reach the center of your neck, and before you can comprehend what is happening, you feel the tip of his tongue flicking against the other side of your neck.

If the black liquid from his throat wasn’t enough of a hint, his inhumanly long tongue was enough to tell you that the boy against you isn’t human. The voices in your mind start to argue, one yelling that you should have never split away from your friend and you should shove him off you and run away, the other telling you to admit the truth. The truth is you don’t hate the feeling. His mouth is eager and whatever liquid that’s started to coat your skin is warm and slick. His wandering hands has you squirming and panting into the air, and there’s a part of you, a part that feels dirty and terrible, that enjoys what's happening with the creature that lives in this abandoned building.

You let out a soft moan as his mouth moves down your neck, his tongue following suit as it licks down to your collarbones and the center of your chest. With curiosity you tilt your head slightly to look at what he’s doing to your skin, and you’re greeted with something you fully expected but still fills you with disbelief.

His tongue looks like a normal tongue, soft and pink, the only difference is its unnaturally long length and the sharp tapered point it ends with. You also quickly notice that the liquid that pours from his mouth is now coating your entire torso, dripping down your chest and stomach and even begins to stain the waistband of your skirt and drip on the floor between your feet.

You move your head up to stare at the ceiling, hoping the lack of visuals would help you convince yourself that what's happening to you is normal. Your curiosity takes over though when his traveling mouth reaches your stomach, and your shaking hand moves to touch the liquid that remains on your neck.

It’s begun to cool from the night air. It’s thick and sticks to your fingers slightly as you move your hand to hold in front of your face, and the black color is so dark and saturated, it almost looks like a hole to the void has been bored into the tips of your fingers.

You’re so distracted by the slippery substance that coats your fingers, you don’t feel his hands lifting your skirt. You don’t even notice his mouth pressing against the skin of your thighs, until they brush against your inner thigh making you jump.

Your hand falls, and you quickly look down. Your skirt obscures the top of his head, but you can still feel as the tip of his nose digs into the seat of your underwear and he takes a breath in.

“You smell very good,” he compliments, and you can't help the way your legs try to slam shut around his head and your skin warms in shame, “can I take these off too?”

His head pops out from under your skirt quickly as he asks, and you feel your heart clench slightly as something about it is weirdly cute. Again, you feel yourself nodding instead of verbally responding, but he only grins and returns to his place between your legs at the motion.

His hands waste no time in shoving your underwear to the ground, and while you fully expected it, you jump again when his nose presses against your bare skin.

You let out a squeak of shock when you first feel his tongue, the warm muscle only slipping partially out to lick at you. He must enjoy what he finds, as he happily hums before the full length of his tongue is covering you.

It never leaves your skin as he licks up the length of you, its long size keeping at least some of it on your skin every time. Your legs shake as his saliva and the liquid drenches your skin, the sheer amount coating you and dripping down the inside of your thighs. You think you may go crazy just by the situation itself, but also from the way his tongue covers you enough to lick at your entrance and clit, and even slipping further back than you had anticipated.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending a shot to your neglected clit, and you return to yourself enough to realize he may not know exactly what to do.

You notice that your hand continues to resemble a leaf as it shakes as you reach down. Your fingers grip harshly as you lift your skirt, and you're greeted by him tucked between your legs with his eyes shut tight. It throws you a bit to see him enjoying himself so thoroughly that you have to pause before you do what you were thinking.

“Here,” you whisper as you hesitantly tap at his forehead, your voice strained from the lack of use. He leans away almost immediately, his tongue slithering back into his mouth and his eyes opening wide with curiosity at hearing you finally speak, “r-right here.”

Your forearm holds your skirt against your stomach as your fingers tap gently at your clit. His eyes follow the motion, his head tilting softly as he looks at what you touch, before he’s looking at you again in curiosity.

“What about it?” he asks slightly confused, “does that part feel good?”

“Yeah,” you respond, your voice still quiet and scared, but he only shows you his too wide smile in return.

You only get a bob of his head as a warning before he moves back onto you, his mouth immediately latching onto your clit. Pleasure shoots up your spine as he starts to suck at the bundle of nerves, and your hands move to hold onto his hair before you can even think about it being the first time you touch him.

You push him against you, your hips moving slightly as his tongue roams the exact spot you pointed to. You're already enjoying the feeling much more than you had expected, but when his tongue slips out again to wander, you feel delirious.

The longer muscle licks at you desperately, the end of it prodding at your entrance as he finds it's the source of the arousal that spills from you. His hands move to wrap around your thighs, and you fear he’ll begin to suffocate himself with how deep he presses his face into you.

His tongue is a lot stronger than you thought when you feel it start to slip inside you, the thick muscle throwing you off as it reaches deeper and deeper inside. He groans loudly, gross slurping noises following, as his tongue begins to move in you, the muscle starting a soft twisting and thrusting motion against your walls. The feeling in you is far different than anything you’ve felt in your life, and combined with the way he keeps his hot mouth attached to your clit, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

You’re grateful for his hands as they hold you up as your legs become weak. Uncontrollable noises fall from your lips, encouraging him to fuck the dark liquid into with his tongue. With your whimpering and cries, you momentarily remember your friend as she wanders the hall, and you beg that she can’t hear what happens between you and the mysterious creature between your legs.

Your toes curl in your shoes as his nails start to scratch at your skin, and you feel your face start to scrunch up tightly as the pleasure builds an aching knot in your stomach. Your hips move with the motion of his tongue as it pulls you apart. If the length of it was jarring as it wrapped around your neck, it was even more intense as if pushed and licked inside you. You shake and jump as he curves it to press perfectly into the hypersensitive spot that sits in you, and you fear that you may rip his hair from his scalp from the way you fist at the strands.

Your eyes begin to roll back in your skull as the pleasure begins to get too much, the foriegn feeling of his tongue and the heat from his mouth and the liquid makes you feel gross and dirty in the best way. You’ve seemed to have lost access to your voice once again, as when you try desperately to warn him of what is about to happen, only squeaks and whines come out.

You feel his tongue twitch inside you in his surprise as you start to come, your walls fluttering around him and your moans growing in volume as the feeling consumes you. You feel yourself jerking uncontrollably as he only groans at the sight and feeling of your orgasm overtaking you, and his licking only grows in speed as he carries you through the feeling.

The tugging your hands deliver on his hair gets harsher as you try to pull him away from your body. He hesitates, his tongue still licking to collect as much of your come as possible, before he finally moves away. You shiver as his tongue slips from your body, your legs trembling at the small sparks of pleasure it hits you with.

His face is covered with your arousal and the black liquid as he stares at you from his place on the floor, his weird grin getting slightly more endearing every time you look at it, even with his sharp teeth stained with black. He clambers to his feet and presses his face close to yours as he speaks.

“Did you like that?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way you pant and slump against the wall. His eyes sparkle as you nod softly, “cool, that’s so cool. I didn’t know people could do that. Can I do that?”

A soft puff of air leaves your nose in a laugh as your head shakes in confusion, “I.. I dunno.”

“Do you think we can tr-“ he starts to ask, when there’s a loud crash from the closet that he came from. He immediately straightens, a look of shock crossing his face before morphing into one of disappointment. His head to turns to look at the closet for a moment before he sucks on his teeth and turns back to you.

“Maybe some other time,” he suggests as he starts to move away. He stops with a jump as if he remembers something important, “there will be another time right? You’ll come see me?”

“I mean, I don’t,” you stutter as you stand, the strength returning to your legs, “I mean sure? I guess?”

“Cool,” he smiles walking away again, “just meet me here whenever, i’m the only one who comes out here.”

You can't help but be reminded of your friend as you whisper an ‘okay’ at his retreating form. The room feels colder once he’s gone, much more quiet too with his mouth no longer on you, and you almost begin to think none of it ever happened in the first place.

Part 2

[reinerispretty]

reminiscence. (? x f!reader) pt9

hello and welcome back! thank you for ur patience! this is another over 5000 words one, so pls enjoy! feedback and sharing is loved and appreciated but not necessary!!

pt1

pt8

pt10

“Have you talked to him at all since…?” Asami asked.

“Since I completely embarrassed myself at dinner the other night? No, I haven’t.” She situated herself in bed and turned over to look at her friends. “Do you think I should? I mean, it is odd that he just kissed me out of nowhere, right?”

“Mako’s not one to hold back when it comes to his feelings,” Korra said, and she and Asami exchanged a knowing smile.

Asami swung her fist forward, but (Y/N) ducked and lurched towards her to land a hit in Asami’s abdomen. She blocked her punch by grabbing (Y/N’s) wrist with a hard grip. (Y/N) paused, unsure of what move to do next, before relying on her instincts. Asami would expect her to try to punch with her other hand, but (Y/N) dropped to the ground and swept her leg under Asami’s. She toppled to the ground and landed on her back. As (Y/N) leaned over her, Asami gave her a bright smile. “You did so well! You’re a quick learner.” She took (Y/N’s) hand and stood on her feet. “One or two more sessions and you’ll be ready to handle anything.”

“It’s because I had a great teacher,” (Y/N) gave Asami a sloppy bow. “You really think I’ll have to fight in the Spirit World?” Asami shrugged.

“It’s better to be prepared for anything.”

After the disastrous dinner earlier in the week, (Y/N) had thrown herself into training with Asami and Korra. Both girls were great at teaching her hand-to-hand combat, and the exercise helped take (Y/N’s) mind off of everything that had happened with Mako and Bolin. By the time she went to bed at night, she was too exhausted to spend the night lying awake and wondering what she should do.

It was awkward now, being around Mako. He was trying his best to be nicer to her, she had noticed. But they hadn’t talked about his reasoning behind the kiss and at this point, (Y/N) was so full of scrambled emotions that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. She wanted to just write it off as a fluke, an accident, and focus on preparing for their journey to the Spirit World.

She had barely talked to Bolin since that dinner. They only saw each other in passing. He avoided areas that Mako tended to be, so he rarely hung out with the group as a whole. (Y/N) was beginning to worry. Korra had assured her that Bolin would be fine. He bounced back quickly when he was upset and his and Mako’s relationship would be fine. But (Y/N) had passed Mako standing in front of Bolin’s door each night as his knocks went unanswered. Not seeing Bolin as much unsettled her, putting a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Asami handed her a bottle of water, which (Y/N) gratefully accepted. “Are you coming to lunch?” She shook her head.

“I think I’m going to head to my room and freshen up, maybe take a nap.” Asami nodded and they bid each other goodbye.

The walk to (Y/N’s) room was long and allowed plenty of time for thoughts to run through her head. She had stuck her foot in her mouth earlier this week, but she wanted to make things right. She had given Bolin space, because that’s what she thought he had needed, but him not being part of their meals and time together just felt unnatural.

She stopped in front of his door. She knew that she probably looked a mess. She was sweaty, and her hair was falling from the ponytail she had put it into before her training, but she had to do this now before she talked herself out of it. Raising her fist, (Y/N) gave a few raps against the dark wood and waited. “Bolin?” She asked after there was no answer. “It’s me, (Y/N).”

  ---

Bolin had spent the last few days laying in bed with his eyes glued to the ceiling. It has been over a year since he had last seen (Y/), before all of this mess had happened, and he had thought he was doing alright. He didn’t wake up in the mornings feeling empty anymore, like a piece of his heart was missing. She wasn’t the first thing on his mind when he opened his eyes and she wasn’t the last thing he thought of before going to sleep. He could actually make it through his day without being reminded of her.

And when she showed up unannounced sure, it had tugged at his heartstrings to see her. It had brought back a flurry of old memories with every facial expression she made. But Bolin was okay. He had gotten over her. So, why was he so angry? Every time he thought about Mako kissing (Y/N), it nearly enraged him. Bolin hated feeling like this. He was never an angry person, but right now if he could punch Mako in the face, he would. And he didn’t understand why. After all, Mako was the one that had been so adamant about Bolin getting over (Y/N). He had told him to put himself back out there, to make new memories to replace the old ones. Had this been his plan all along, to steal (Y/N) from Bolin?

Bolin shut his eyes tight. No, Mako wouldn’t do that. And besides, (Y/N) wasn’t his. He didn’t have any claim over her, especially not know, when she doesn’t know who he is. She knows nothing about their history together and Bolin had to be honest, sometimes it killed him. Sometimes he wanted to make a joke that he knew only she would understand, but she wouldn’t now. In the mean time, before she got her memories back, he had wanted to be her friend. It wasn’t her fault that this had happened to her, and a tiny part of him hoped that maybe this amnesia thing would explain what had happened between them. He had to admit that a small part of him did enjoy standing so close to her and hearing her laugh and spending time with her, but he had written it all off as leftover feelings.

She had done quite a number on his heart, after all.

Almost two years ago, Bolin stood on the doorsteps of (Y/N’s) apartment, waiting in the cold winter air. He hit the buzzer and heard the second-floor window fly open. “I’m almost ready!” She called down to him, poking her head out of the window. Bolin’s heart caught in his chest for a moment. Half from seeing his girlfriend and half from noticing how far she was hanging out the window. “You can come up if you want!” Bolin accepted her invitation silently and pulled open the door, a chill running through his body as he stepped from cold air into warm. He walked up the high flight of stairs and immediately stood in (Y/N’s) living room.

Every time he had visited, he was unsure how a girl could come to accumulate so much stuff. Her furniture was all mismatched, taken from sales and alleyways, and piles of books were scattered across the entire apartment. Potted plants lay in beams of direct sunlight beneath the windows. Upstairs in the loft, he could hear her rifling through clothes to get ready for tonight.

“I have absolutely nothing to wear,” He heard her huff, just as a blouse fluttered down from above and landed at Bolin’s feet. He picked it up and climbed the stairs to the loft to return it to her.

“No matter what you wear, you’re still gonna be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” And she turned around and gave him a smile, biting down on her lip to prevent herself from grinning so wide.

“Thank you, Bo,” She said softly, standing in front of the mirror to smooth down her hair. “I’m just nervous.”

“I’m meeting your mom, shouldn’t I be the only one that’s nervous?” She scoffed, pulling one of the old sweaters he had given her from her closet and pulling it over her shoulders. It was green, like most of Bolin’s things were, and he couldn’t help but run over to her and hug her from behind, lifting her into the air as he did so. She let out a squeal of surprise that turned into laughter. He thought she was beautiful no matter what she wore, but something about seeing her in his clothes made his heart soar even more than it did when he was around her.

She turned around once he set her down, but his hands were still placed gently on her waist. She smoothed out the collar of his shirt. Bolin had wanted to dress to impress, so he borrowed one of Mako’s nicest shirts. It was a bit too tight on Bolin’s frame, but he hoped if he kept his jacket on, no one would notice. “My mom is just…something else. She owns Kwong’s Cuisine, so sometimes I think she thinks she’s better than people. I don’t want her to scare you away.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she hummed, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting his head on her chest. “Nothing could ever scare me away from you.”

They walked the whole way to the restaurant, which had closed just a few hours prior. Bolin thought the dinner idea was nice. (Y/N’s) mother had suggested a private, after-hours dinner with just the three of them. Her mother was not only the owner, but a highly renowned chef in Republic City, so Bolin’s stomach grumbled in anticipation as (Y/N) led him through the doors of Kwong’s Cuisine. The inside was beyond elegant. Bolin had only seen the inside when he was walking by and people were entering or leaving the building. He had always wondered what it was like, and it had certainly surpassed his expectations. The host took their coats and led them to the table where (Y/N’s) mother was waiting.

Her mother sat with her hands folded in her lap as they approached. Everything about her seemed regal, from each perfectly placed hair atop her head to how even though Bolin was standing and she was sitting, it seemed like she looked down on him.

“Hi Mom,” (Y/N) said as they approached. Her mother remained seated and Bolin noticed how rigid (Y/N’s) body had become. “This is my boyfriend, Bolin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am!” Bolin said excitedly, extending his hand out to offer a shake. She stared at it for a few moments before Bolin retracted it, wiping the sweat that had accumulated onto his dress pants. He pulled out (Y/N’s) chair before sitting down across from her. There were only three chairs at this particular table, and although she was still within arms reach, Bolin felt like he was way too far away from her.

“Your restaurant is amazing,” Bolin said, staring at the chandeliers over their heads. “I’ve heard super great things about it.”

“You’ve never been to Kwong’s Cuisine?” Her mother asked, taking a sip of her water. Bolin shook his head.

“It’s not quite within my price range unfortunately,” Bolin chuckled, and (Y/N) smiled at him as she started to look at her menu.

“I don’t know why you need that thing,” Her mother said off-handedly. “If you work here you should have the menu memorized.” (Y/N’s) fingers gripped the menu pages tightly.

“I was just looking.”

“Bolin,” Her mother said, turning to Bolin, but she pronounced his name all wrong. She said it as “Ball-in” and while Bolin wasn’t all that concerned, he could tell that it irked (Y/N). “I’m glad I’m finally meeting you. I was beginning to worry that our dear (Y/N) was going to keep you a secret for forever.” Bolin stole a glance at (Y/N), but she was staring very intently at the menu. “Tell me about yourself, since my daughter neglected to do so.”

“Oh,” Bolin said, and he was starting to sweat at the back of his neck. Had (Y/N) really not said anything to her own mother about him? She worked at this restaurant nearly every day! She had sneaked him into the kitchens and she hadn’t bothered to at least mention him? “Well, my name’s Bolin, but uh, you already knew that.” He coughed to clear his throat. “I have an older brother, Mako, he’s pretty cool. He and (Y/N) get along swell. We’re part of the Pro-Bending team, the Fire Ferrets,” And the look that (Y/N’s) mother made told Bolin that he probably shouldn’t have said that.

(Y/N) came to the rescue. “They’re amazing! You should see them play at the stadium, Bolin and Mako are like a dynamic duo.”

“I see,” Her mother said. “And do you and your brother see yourselves making a career out of this?”

“Well-“

“Because I can’t imagine that you could win every game.”

“Mom…”

“And it just seems to me that it’s not a very practical career avenue. I mean, what must your parents think?”

Bolin was feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He understood now, why (Y/N) was so nervous about him meeting her mother. He felt like he wanted to run and never stop. But he remained seated. “My parents passed away when Mako and I were little.”

“Surely your family must-“

“Mako and Bolin don’t have any other family.” (Y/N) snapped. That seemed to shock her mother into enough silence so (Y/N) continued. “Bo, I was thinking, you might like these Water Tribe noodles that we serve.” Bolin opened his menu for the first time but his eyes were just a bit watery.

They ate dinner for the rest of the night in silence. (Y/N) tried hard to make the conversation flow, but it seemed like that ship had sailed. Once they left for the night, she walked at Bolin’s side, huddling into herself.

“Why didn’t you tell your mom about me?” Bolin asked.

“I just wanted to have you to myself for a little while longer,” She said with a sigh. “I know I should have told her, but my mom…she ruins things. Good things. We used to get along swell before my dad left, but she turned into someone I don’t like.” (Y/N) looked up at him. “I didn’t want her to ruin us, too.”

Bolin reached out and grabbed her hand. (Y/N) squeezed it. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to protect me. I grew up living on the streets. I’ve probably stolen food out of the garbage from your mom’s restaurant. If you like me for who I am, then you have to know I like you for who you are. Scary mom and all.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him. “On the bright side, now that that’s over, we won’t have to see her again!” Bolin laughed.

“At least not until the wedding.” And because he knew her, he smiled at the warmth he knew was coming to her face.

Things went surprisingly well after meeting (Y/N’s) mom. They spent even more time together. Their anniversary was coming up soon and Bolin had been saving his cut of the Fire Ferret winnings for months to buy her something nice. He knew she wasn’t the kind of person who expected gifts from others, but he enjoyed spoiling her regardless, and wanted to give her something a little nicer than usual.

The idea of telling her that he loved her had also been bouncing around in his head. Bolin had never been one to deny his feelings, and although the majority of him was fairly confident that (Y/N) felt the same way, there was still the small fear of rejection at the back of his mind. But life was too short to live in fear, so when they would go out to their anniversary dinner, he would give her the present and also tell her that he loved her for the first time. And if she didn’t feel the same just yet, Bolin was okay was that. Because (Y/N) was the kind of person that Bolin wanted to wait for.

When he and Mako were little and living on the streets, they had to pawn off as many things as they can to make sure they could survive. This money lasted them for a few months. It helped to get them clothes and food. Mako had chosen to keep their father’s scarf and Bolin had chosen to keep Pabu, because having a pet around was always a good idea. One thing that they had to part with was their mother’s most prized possession: a necklace that their father had given her. It was pure gold, bent into the shape of the Earth symbol. Their father had told Mako and Bolin that he had given it to their mother when he was confident that he was going to marry her. Bolin had always been a romantic at heart and couldn’t wait for the day that he could give that necklace to someone. But as he and Mako fell on hard times, they decided to pawn the necklace to get some money for new winter clothes. Bolin had been tasked with taking the necklace to the shop and he had done so with shaking hands and watery eyes.

“Please don’t sell this to anyone else,” He said as he placed the necklace on the counter. “I-I’m gonna come back for it, I promise.” And the owner of the pawn shop took pity on him and decided to keep the necklace in the back room for whenever Bolin had the money to buy it back.

Bolin, with the money he had saved over the past few months, had been able to buy the necklace back just a few days prior. He kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer, eager for his anniversary with (Y/N) so he could give it to her.

But (Y/N) had walked into Bolin’s apartment a couple days later, her cheeks tearstained and her eyes bloodshot. He looked up from teaching Pabu a new trick, his eyes bright with excitement to show her, but his face fell at the sight. “Are you alright?” He asked, and (Y/N) sniffled.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Was what she said, and Bolin couldn’t help but laugh in surprise. This had to be a prank that she was playing. (Y/N) loved telling jokes.

When he saw the serious expression on her face, he felt panic arise in his stomach. “You’re being serious?” He asked, and she nodded her head. “W-what do you mean?” He rushed over to stand in front of her. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because we’re breaking up, Bolin,” She said, and she refused to meet his eyes. “We won’t work. Being with you was fun but I don’t see us going anywhere.”

“(Y/N), I don’t understand,” He could feel the prickling sensation at the back of his eyes. “You’re not making any sense. Come on, let’s talk about this.” He grabbed her hand.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” She insisted, ripping her hand out of his. Bolin’s fingers curled in on themselves, shocked at the absence. She had never reacted that way to him. “We’re breaking up and that’s it! I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I want an explanation! You can’t just come in here and decide that we’re broken up, I-We-I love you, (Y/N). Please.”

She looked up at him for the first time, her eyes boring into his. Her bottom lip quivered. “I don’t love you. There’s your explanation.” She spun on her heel and ran out of the apartment. Bolin was still in the same position when he heard the door shut.

He moved back to the couch to sit, still trying to process what had just happened. Pabu curled himself around his neck, licking at his cheek. It took Bolin a while to realize that Pabu was licking at the tears that were falling, now more rapidly. Once he started crying, Bolin felt like he couldn’t stop. He was still crying when Mako got home and cried as his brother hugged him through the night.

Bolin opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest and the familiar tight, anxious feeling that he had had that night in his chest. He hadn’t dreamt about what had happened between him and (Y/N) in over a year. He sat up in bed when he heard a knock at the door.

---

To (Y/N’s) surprise, she heard the click of the door unlocking and then Bolin was standing before her, his bright green eyes staring at her curiously. “Oh, hi!” He said, as if he hadn’t actually been expecting it to be her. “How are you?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing. We haven’t really gotten the chance to talk this week.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah, you know me, super busy Bolin.” He looked back at his bare bedroom. “I’ve just been doing, you know, things.”

“Things,” (Y/N) repeated. She might not remember Bolin and his habits, but he was a horrible liar. “Listen, I just wanted to say sorry for everything that happened at dinner earlier this week. I spoke without thinking and I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Bolin said. “Mako kissed you, that’s…that’s no big deal.” (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

“Does Mako know you feel that way?”

“You don’t have to come talk to me on his behalf. Whatever you guys have, I’m cool with it.”

“That wasn’t what I was doing, and Mako and I don’t ‘have’ anything.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pulling down at the edges. “Don’t make assumptions about what’s going on between Mako and I before asking either one of us.”

“I wasn’t trying to make assumptions,” He said. “Listen, if you and Mako want to…y’know, have anything, I don’t want you to think that I’m upset or standing in the way of it. I’m fine, really. I’m over what happened between you and I. I was upset at Mako for not telling me, but I’m fine now.” He moved to shut the door.

“You’re over me,” (Y/N) said, and she felt like an idiot for repeating it but she needed to clarify.

“A thousand percent,” Bolin said with a smile. “From now on, we can be best buds!” With that, he shut the door. (Y/N) stared blankly at the hardwood for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Bolin was over her. He had said it himself. She supposed she should have figured that. It had apparently been years since they had been together and it was obvious to her that she had hurt him very badly. Bolin deserved this outcome, he deserved to be over her after everything she had put him through. She should be happy for him.

As she walked back to the main part of the ship where the rest of her friends would be, she couldn’t help but comb through every interaction she ever had with Bolin. She had thought that maybe there had been something there. He had made her a favorite food of hers and had offered her a jacket to make sure she wasn’t cold. (Y/N) felt like an idiot. Those were probably just things Bolin did, and she wasn’t aware because she didn’t know him at all.

“(Y/N)!” Korra called, jogging to catch up with her friend. “I’ve been shouting for you to wait for like a whole minute.”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said. “A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Well you’re about to have even more on your mind, because I just talked to the captain and he said we’re going to dock in the Southern Water Tribe by nightfall.”

“That’s amazing!” (Y/N) exclaimed. She was going to allow herself to have a moment of excitement. “And then we’ll head into the Spirit World?”

“It’ll be too cold to leave at night. We’re going to stay with my parents and then my dad will help us get there tomorrow.” Korra grinned at (Y/N), her eyes barely visible from how wide her smile was. “I’m so excited for you to see where I’m from.”

“If it created someone like you, I’m sure it’s amazing,” (Y/N) said. Korra looped her arm through (Y/N’s).

“I’ll have to ask Mako and Bolin where your family’s from. I’d love to know if you have a bit of Water Tribe in you.” She poked her side, causing (Y/N) to giggle.

“I can’t wait to have all of the answers back,” (Y/N) said. “Who I am, where I’m from. Do you think my family is still in Republic City? Do I even have a family?” She turned to Korra. “I wonder if they’ll even let me come home.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. First, we have to figure out how to get your memories back. And then we have to figure out how to get you to stay in Republic City. I kind of like having you around.”

“Really?” (Y/N’s) smile was bright and beaming. She was thankful for Korra. When everything else was so uncertain, at least she had a friend in her from the very start.

“Yeah. There’s no one I know that does as much embarrassing stuff as you.”

---

They docked in the Southern Water Tribe late that night. (Y/N) had put on as many layers of clothing as she could to keep herself warm, but it still didn’t feel like enough. She was shivering as she walked off the boat, which caused Korra to laugh at her. “Not all of us have firebending to keep ourselves warm!” (Y/N) muttered.

Korra’s father was waiting at the end of the dock to take them all back to their home. He introduced himself as Tonraq and he absolutely towered over (Y/N). He looked rather intimidating, but he had a kind smile that (Y/N) appreciated.

“So you’re the young girl that’s been stirring things up in Republic City,” He laughed as he shook (Y/N’s) gloved hand. “Just when I think Korra might take a break, she’s gets herself into another adventure.”

“She’s been such a great friend to me these past few weeks,” (Y/N) said. They rod snowmobiles back to their hut. It was modest in size, but as soon as (Y/N) stepped inside, she felt so at home. A fire radiated in the middle of the room, keeping the entire house warm. Animal furs and pelts decorated the walls, but so did pictures of Korra. From an infant to present, photographs of Korra were placed through the entire house.

“It’s so nice to see all of you again,” Korra’s mom said as she hugged her daughter. “And it’s so nice to meet you!” She pulled (Y/N) into a hug of her own, surprising the girl. When they pulled away, she introduced herself. “I’m Senna. Korra has written us so much about you.”

“Alright,” Korra said with a cough, her face bearing a faint flush. “(Y/N) and Asami will stay in my room with me. Mako and Bolin, you’re going to sleep in the living room if that’s alright.”

“Sounds good to me!” Bolin said, and he started pulling out his sleeping bag to prepare for the night. (Y/N) couldn’t help but look back at him as she was guided into Korra’s bedroom.

It was a small bedroom with a bed pushed against the wall, but two beds had been set up on the floor. Korra’s walls were bare compared to the rest of the house. “I saw those pictures of you as a baby,” (Y/N) said. “You were so adorable!”

“’Were?’” Korra asked, and she, Asami, and (Y/N) laughed.

The three girls began getting ready for bed and each crawled underneath the covers. (Y/N) had opted to leave her jackets on. “I don’t think I have any Water Tribe in me,” She said to Korra. “It’s freezing here.”

“You get used to it eventually,” Asami said. Korra tossed a blanket at (Y/N), which landed on her head.

“Here, have one of mine.”

“Are you sure you won’t need it?”

“Nah, plus I don’t really want to hear Mako complaining in the morning when you’ve turned into an icicle.”

“Have you talked to him at all since…?” Asami asked.

“Since I completely embarrassed myself at dinner the other night? No, I haven’t.” She situated herself in bed and turned over to look at her friends. “Do you think I should? I mean, it is odd that he just kissed me out of nowhere, right?”

“Mako’s not one to hold back when it comes to his feelings,” Korra said, and she and Asami exchanged a knowing smile.

“I just don’t want to complicate things anymore. I talked to Bolin earlier today and he said that he doesn’t care what Mako and I do, because he’s over me. And I know it shouldn’t have, but it still stung.”

“Once we get your memories back, everything will make sense again,” Asami said, reaching underneath the blankets to squeeze (Y/N’s) hand.

“Thanks, guys,” (Y/N) said, closing her eyes to try to get some sleep. She and Asami’s fingertips remained touching throughout the night.

---

In the living room, Mako and Bolin remained wide awake. Both brothers stared at the ceiling, neither sure of what they should do in order to make themselves fall asleep. Mako decided to speak first.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you,” He said in a low whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I kissed (Y/N). I don’t really know what happened. She just got me so angry.” Bolin hummed in acknowledgement, so Mako continued. “If I’m being honest, I did sort of like her when you guys were together.”

Bolin turned on his stomach to face Mako. “Have you liked every girl I’ve been with? First (Y/N), then Korra-!”

“Not every girl,” Mako said. “Just the really smart and pretty ones.” Bolin scoffed, but Mako could still see the hint of a smile on his face. “I don’t want you to think that I was trying to undermine you by kissing her. I really didn’t know what I was doing when I did it and I still don’t know why I did it. I’m glad she hasn’t tried to talk to me about it, because I’m not sure I wouldn’t have had an answer for her.”

“I don’t care that you guys kissed,” Bolin said. “I’ve been over (Y/N) for a while now. I was just bothered that you didn’t tell me about it.” Mako raised an eyebrow.

“You think you’re over (Y/N)?”

“Of course I am. It’s been years-“

“And you look at her like you did the first time. Stop trying to lie to yourself, little bro.” Bolin huffed.

“It doesn’t matter. You remember how things ended.”

“I know, but maybe…maybe we were wrong.”

“Are you actually starting to defend (Y/N)? Old (Y/N), I mean?”

“I’m not defending her! It’s just obvious that we don’t have the whole story. But hopefully we will soon.” Mako slid further underneath his covers. “Just…don’t hold what I did against her.”

Bolin turned on his side, staring at the fire that was now dying out. He didn’t like the way being around (Y/N) made him feel. It scared him, because he had felt those feelings before, and had ended up worse off because of it. But that night, he did drift off thinking of her smile. 

---

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[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

author-chan!! can i have angst of annie leonhardt' s/o leaving her after she confesses that she's the female titan:(((

also i wish you luck with your blog ٩( ᐛ )و

tHIS HURT ME TO WRITE, ANNIE DESERVES HAPPINESS!

On another note though, thank you! I’m having fun so far ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Oh, and to preface, this turned out a lot more angsty and violent than I had sort of planned in my head, so if you want something changed, I can easily go back and edit it.

Monster

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Slight violence, season 3 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After finding out she is the Female Titan, Annie’s s/o leaves her, leaving her heartbroken and angry.

Words: 2.0K

The most recent scouting expedition was an absolute disaster.

You thought things were going well. One of your first scouting missions, and you had made it far into titan territory without much trouble.

But then, she appeared.

An abnormal for sure. Shown to be fast and agile, plus very intelligent, the Scouts stood no chance. She mindlessly ripped through your comrades in search of Eren, pushing all the way up to the forest, and wiping out almost all of the Levi squad.

Luckily, you were able to make it out of the mission relatively unscathed, physically anyway. Mentally, you were a mess. The experience messed you up for sure, you had never been more terrified of a titan before then. The fear of death that she instilled in you had shaken you to your core, and as soon as you were allowed to leave, you ran to the interior to find solace in your girlfriend, Annie.

Sneaking into the military police dormitories, as you had done many times before, you quietly pushed to the door open, poking your head in in search of the blonde.

You found her alone in bed, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. Her roommate, Hitch, was strangely absent. You wondered if she was getting ready for bed. It was a bit early, as the sun had just began to set, but you figured she may have just been tired.

She didn’t seem to notice you at first, which was unnatural of the usually extremely observant soldier. Still you paid no mind to it, calling out her name.

“Annie?”

She turned to face you, and a small smile graced her lips. But something was very off about it. The smile looked so... pained. Not fake, but pained. Like it hurt her just to smile.

“Can I come in?” You asked, just out of courtesy, since she looked like she had something on her mind.

She nodded, sitting up in her bed and patting the space next to her.

You climbed onto her bed, and the two of your shared a chaste kiss before you hugged her, burying your head in her shoulder. You inhaled slowly, taking in her calming, slightly sweet scent.

“I missed you...” You muttered.

She chuckled just a little, before wrapping her arms around you and falling backwards, pulling you with her so you were tucked into her side. “I missed you too...”

You snuggled closer into her chest, taking deep, relaxed breaths for the first time in days.

You laid in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before you finally started to talk about what had really been bugging you.

“The scouting mission was a disaster.” You said, slightly muffled into her chest. You could’ve swore you felt her breathing hitch and her muscles tense up at the mention of it.

You pulled your head out of her chest, not even waiting for her to beckon you to continue, deciding to keep talking anyway.

“There was this huge abnormal, and she was faster and smarter than any one I’ve ever seen before!” You cried out, not even bothering you control your voice. You needed this experience off of your chest as soon as possible. “She killed so many Scouts! I saw it all with my own two eyes, I thought for sure I was gonna die!” Tears formed in your eyes as you recounted the experience, images flashing through your head and screams ringing in your ears.

Your hands covered your eyes, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that bright colors seemed to flash over your vision as your eyebrows furrowed. Quiet sobs and sniffles escaped your lips.

After a moment, you realized Annie still hadn’t moved an inch. The Annie you know would’ve been shushing your cries and petting your hair, as she’s done so many times before, but right now, she didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyes fluttered wide open, and you bit your bottom lip to suppress your sobs. You shakily moved your head up to look at her. She was completely frozen, even her breathing had stopped momentarily, as she stared at the wall with wide, unmoving eyes. Her expression looked so mortified.

You gasped out loud as it finally clicked, your hands moving from your ears to cover your mouth, and your pure shock immediately stopped the flowing tears. All the pieces fell into place in your mind at once.

The expression on her face was recognizable anywhere. God, how did you not notice it before?!

Guilt.

Confused and panicked, you sat up and scampered to the opposite side of the bed, still in disbelief.

“A... Annie?” Your whisper was barely audible, but compared to the tense stillness of the room, she heard you perfectly. “Tell me it isn’t true...”

You had ignored it. You didn’t want to think about any of it. You didn’t want to think about how similar the female titan looked to her, or how the female titan had the same martial arts technique as her, or how strange she had been acting lately, especially now after the attack. You still clung to hope that, maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

She finally sucked in a breath harshly through her clenched teeth, lowering her head in shame and hiding her eyes from yours.

“I...” She whispered. The tone in her voice almost made you pity her. She sounded so sad, like a kicked puppy. The furrow in your brow softened, but you remained on guard until she finished her sentence.

“I’m so sorry... Y/n...”

At that moment, you felt a switch flip in your mind. This was no longer the Annie you knew. She wasn’t the Annie that would lean on you silently during mealtimes, or the Annie that would kiss you on the forehead when you woke up together, or the Annie that smiled lovingly whenever you told her that you loved her.

No, not anymore. This was a monster. She was a monster.

Burning rage and heartbreak coursed through your veins, taking over your body as you lost any control you may have had. She didn’t need to try to apologize. She didn’t deserve forgiveness.

You grabbed her by the shoulders, and before she even had the chance to react, you tackled her off of the bed and onto the creaky wooden floors of the dorm, landing on top of her with a loud thud.

She shut her eyes and winced in pain for a moment, but she opened them to look at you. As soon as her eyes met yours, you saw them widen with fear. Not fear for her safety, she could easily beat you in a fight if she wanted to. No, this fear was different, it was something she had feared since she first started to fall for you. And right now, it seems that fear was becoming reality.

“WHY?!” You screamed, still hovering over her. Despite your anger, your face appeared distraught, tears falling from your eyes and onto her cheeks. The tears she usually wiped away endearingly were now flowing from your eyes, and it was all because of her.

“This whole time, you pretended to love me, while you were really just our enemy? Do you have any idea how many died because of you?! What are you doing this for?! WHY, ANNIE, WHY?!”

Tears fell from Annie’s eyes as she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

You remained on top of her, waiting impatiently for an answer. “Well?!”

“I... Y/N please... I’m sorr-” Her sentence was cut off as you raised your fist and struck her in the nose with all your might. Her head flung to the side, blood already spurting from her face.

“Don’t give me that sorry bullshit! You aren’t sorry at all! You just want to save your hide!”

You sat up from your previous position, but your knees stayed grounded on the floor to either side of her. You stared at her, your expression broken and unremorseful.

“You’re a traitor...” Your voice dropped to a solemnly low pitch, and a pained, almost hysterical laugh ripped through your throat. You calmed down within moments, however, and stared into her eyes. If looks could kill right now, she would be dead on the floor in an instant.

“You stood there with us and swore to fight against the titans... and then you went on to kill your own comrades... do you feel no remorse?” You shook your head, looking away as if she didn’t even deserve your acknowledgement. “You never deserved to wear the uniform. You should never have joined the ranks.”

You stood up, heading for the door. You turned to look at her once again, only to see that she hadn’t moved an inch, her head still facing to the side, looking away from you.

“Tch.” You turned around, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open slowly.

“I can’t believe I thought I loved you,” You took a step out of the door. “You monster.”

---

Annie panted in front of the mirror, gripping the sides of the porcelain for support. The blood still leaked from her nose, the metallic taste making its way into her mouth and coating her tongue.

She looked at the mirror, and a stranger stared back. A stranger whose faced was still stained with tears. A stranger who was afraid. A stranger who, deep down, ached for her lover to return.

She should’ve known. Hell, Reiner warned her several times.

“I know you care about her, Annie, but you can’t get attached to, let alone involved with Y/N. It sacrifices the integrity of our mission as warriors.”

She winced at the memory, closing her eyes and trying to block it out. Still, his words wrapped itself around her brain.

“Besides, you know it well. We’re sinners, Annie. Monsters. We have a duty to serve, but that’s it. People will hate us simply for being born into this program, for inheriting our titans. Y/N is no different.”

She stared back into the mirror. The stranger who looked back had really believed that she could do it. That Y/N wouldn’t hate her when she inevitably found out her secret. How foolish, believing that she could be forgiven.

A sudden rush of anger and frustration washed over her, and her hand left the sink and struck the mirror in front of her. The reflection shattered, and the glass fell to the ground.

She didn’t bother to wash the blood off of her hand, or even pick the tiny shards of glass out of her hand before she punched the empty wall where the mirror used to be.

*POW*

She knew it, she always knew it, years before even being given her orders.

*POW*

Of course she knew it, how could she not?

*POW*

But she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

*POW*

She didn’t even want to think about it.

*POW*

She didn’t want it to be told to her face like that.

*POW*

And especially not by her.

*POW*

No matter how she faced it, she was just...

...

A monster.

---

She huffed in the midnight air as she ran, holding her limp right hand. It wouldn’t take a genius to look at it and tell immediately that she had shattered many of the bones in her fingers, but that didn’t matter right now. You knew her secret, and it wouldn’t be much time before you told the others.

She ran as fast as she could, skidding to a halt in front of the cabin that she unfortunately knew all too well.

---

Reiner awoke with a start, a painful sensation covering his chest. As he opened his eyes slowly, the blurry silhouette in front of him delivered another swift kick to his ribs. He groaned painfully as the silhouette began to clear.

“Annie?” Confusion and fatigue laced his speech heavily. Across the room, Bertholdt began to stir awake.

“Reiner,” She spoke. His eyes widened as he gazed into her eyes. The icy blue orbs appeared as though no one was behind them. She looked broken, as if a painful realization had shattered her entire world. “Get up. Now.”

“Huh?” He sat up, noticing her battered and bruised hand, only heightening his confusion.

“We’re going to go get Eren.” She spoke, an eerie monotony to her voice.

“Whether you like it or not,” She continued. “This mission ends today.”

SAAHFKSJHLDFSKHACKJH I NEVER WANT TO WRITE ANNIE IN PAIN AGAIN I FEEL SO BAD AAAAAAAAAAA

also, i put so much effort into this, but it feels really bad for some reason :|

Also I couldn’t write Annie punching the wall without comparing her to a Kyle™ lol.

Well, still, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should change anything.

[batmanie]

Worth it - Batman TAS

Out of the few books available at the Arkham rec room’s otherwise empty bookshelf Professor Crane had chosen to read “Pride and Prejudice” today. He had read it about ten times already but the small book collection was not getting any bigger and it was still better than reading the Bible.

“Alice’s adventures in Wonderland” had been banned from Arkham’s library quite some time ago for triggering a certain inmate, and “Christmas Carol” had lately been decorated with obscene doodles by the Joker which Jonathan did not wish to see ever again. The nursery rhymes book was always an option but currently, Harley had her fun with that, giggling each time she read a funny one.

Crane was sitting on the couch with his nose in the book, not bothering anyone with his presence. Next to him, Tetch was staring at the TV. The poor man looked so bored, mindlessly channel surfing, probably too high on medication to be able to entertain himself with any Wonderland plots.

With Joker not around, the rec room seemed calm, almost as calm as the sky before a heavy storm. And said storm came unexpectedly in the form of Jervis Tetch.

The bored man on the couch had switched to the Gotham’s evening news channel, listening in to the street interview with one of the new candidates for the city council, and then, out of nowhere, he threw a massive tantrum – his outburst included flipping the coffee-table and accidentally hitting Harley’s head with it. That, of course, resulted in Doctor Quinzel’s aggressive response. Not much remained left from the unfortunate table after Harley had finished with it.

Professor Crane watched in delight how Mad Hatter fought against a guard twice as big as himself, while Harley attempted to smash both of their heads with a table leg before two other guards managed to tranquilize her.

After a few more minutes, the rec room was calm again and Jonathan got back to his book. But as much as he tried to ignore the incident and focus on the plot, a little voice in his head, the voice of the psychologist who he’d never truly ceased to be, kept whispering a very important question. “What exactly has just happened here?” The voice asked, teasing Jon’s professional curiosity. He cast another glance at the tv. The candidate from the evening news smiled at the camera, still explaining how much he was helping the community.

Professor Crane had his suspicions. And who would have guessed? Mad Hatter broke out of Arkham no longer than three days after that event.

David Colton was in his mid-thirties and he was a man in his prime, looking exceptionally professional today in his expensive dark-blue suit, white shirt, and striped blue tie.

“Smoother than Bruce Wayne,” he thought with a pleasant smile, checking himself in the mirror.

Oh, yeah, he still got it! Still looking as youthful and handsome as the prom king he had been back in his high-school days.

“Almost ready Mr. Colton,” the make-up lady told him, and put some more powder onto his already fluid-heavy forehead. “No glossy faces on TV, that’s my rule. Those spotlights know no mercy,” she joked.

David chuckled. “The only thing that is allowed to shine tonight, is my charisma.”

They would have laughed some more, if not for a sudden knocking on the door to his private dressing room.

“Come in,” David called and took a deep, calming breath mentally preparing himself for showtime.

He was ready to present his best self to Gotham again, and at this rate of him constantly being invited to interviews, the seat in the council was practically his already.

His father was right, the ability to make a good impression and a thing for charity was everything that mattered in this town after all.

The door opened and a short man in a trench coat walked in, not a staff member judging simply by the lack of an ID. Yet, the man seemed familiar – Colton just couldn’t quite place him.

“Can I help you, pal?” He asked the newcomer, hiding his irritation behind a polite smile.

The man smiled brightly and took a few steps into the room. “Oh, yes, yes. I think you can,” he spoke with a quiet yet excited voice.

Colton caught his fake British accent right away – and again, it felt like he had heard it before.

“However, I wouldn’t call you my pal.” The man continued grinning. “Would I? Won’t I? Would I? Won’t I?”.

“Listen, pal,” Colton cut him off, not bothering anymore to be that polite. “My interview is starting in a few minutes. Can we get back to this conversation later?”

“I’m afraid that later will be too late,” the strange man shook his head and took out a silver pocket-watch. “It will take only a moment…”

David sighed, the intruder was really hard to get rid of – he hated those nosy people who worked for the press.

“Very well then.” He stood up from his seat and turned to his guest to shake his hand and introduce himself properly. “David Colton,” he offered his hand to the shorter man.

The man didn’t take it, which led to a very awkward moment.

“Oh, but we know each other,” he explained, staring at David with an intense glare.

Colton, confused as he was, took a closer look at the stranger – his blonde, messy hair, big nose, and even bigger front teeth. Suddenly it clicked. “Gotham High! Jervis, was it? Jervis the Jerkface,” he laughed at the old memories of those past, glorious days of his youth. “How have you been, Jerv?”.

“Surely not as good as you.” There was a hint of fake sadness in Jervis’ voice as he put on the black, old-school top hat that he had held in his hand behind his back the entire time.

That single move made Colton recall some very disturbing stories straight from Gotham’s underworld. He cast a worried look at the make-up lady – she looked terrified and about to scream.

Slowly, he gazed back at the small man before him – the man who used to be just a nerdy kid from his high school, a weird boy that everybody had laughed at – Jervis the Jerkface, Beaver-man, Ratter.

“They don’t call me names that often anymore,” Jervis said calmly, as if he had just read his mind, a nasty grin creeping back on his face. He held a card in his gloved hand. “They simply call me the Mad Hatter.”

-#-

Like every other Saturday, the rec room was hosting the four lucky high-profile inmates who had earned their right to be in here, thanks to their good behavior. This time it was Doctor Isley, surprisingly enough, Nygma and, even more surprisingly, Croc who accompanied Professor Crane during his well-deserved book-time.

Everyone was minding their own business, Ivy was occupied taking care of a small flowerpot of violets, Edward played chess with himself and Croc, well, Croc was currently using his claw as a toothpick to get rid of the remains of his dinner.

Jonathan relaxed on the couch that he had the luxury of having only for himself for once. He had tried to bury himself in a book but couldn’t concentrate on reading – something was on his mind ever since Mad Hatter had disappeared half a week ago. It was this tiny, little voice again, telling him to put the book aside and turn on the TV instead.

Slightly irritated by his own decision, he did as his intuition had told him to. The evening news was about to end and an interview with some philanthropist politician was about to start right after commercials.

When the show began, the fat, jovial host greeted his enthusiastic audience, gaining some applause in return, then he introduced the main guest of the evening, David Colton – Jonathan recognized the guy – it was the same politician who had been talking about the importance of charity just a week ago on the news.

Colton looked a bit stiff, smiling unnaturally wide. As the applause died out and the first question was asked, he didn’t move for a good few seconds, as if he didn’t even hear it. Jonathan couldn’t shake off the impression that the man was either on some medications or very, very stressed.

“David?” The host tried again as the uncomfortable silence dragged for too long. “Will you tell us about your foundation? We are all dying to know more.”

“No, Sam,” said Colton with a strangled voice, his face still kind of strange – more like a mask with a very fake smile and a dead look in his eyes. “First, I want to talk about my teenage years.”

“OK, let’s hear your story,” the host agreed, happily, probably determined to get anything at all from his non-cooperative guest. “I’ve heard you were an overachiever. A football player, a class president and even a prom king. Isn’t that right, David?”

“No. I was a selfish bastard who tormented less popular kids. I called them unfair names, put them in a locker, and made other boys beat them up just for a sake of it.”

The audience gasped at this confession. The host’s jaw dropped for a good five seconds.

Jonathan smiled to himself, satisfied that his intuition had not failed him.

“I was a popular kid so I never took the blame for my misbehavior,” Colton continued with a very calm and steady voice, his face showing no emotion. When the camera took a closeup on him, Jonathan noticed a tiny little detail – a 10/6 card sticking out of his boutonnière.

“I never cared for others' wellbeing either, this charity-thing is just for show. I only care for the fame and attention. In fact, you may say I’m not even a human being. I’m an ugly, stinking, lying chimpanzee.”

As soon as Colton finished his last line, an inhuman howl escaped his mouth. The audience screamed in terror. Colton suddenly jumped onto a couch he previously sat on, and he started to act like a real monkey.

Sam – the host – went utterly speechless, he jumped up from his own seat and just stood there, stunned.

Colton, screeching and howling like a mad chimpanzee, grabbed a glass of water from the tabletop and threw it at the host.

“Help, somebody help!” the poor host started screaming.

Meanwhile, Colton was jumping up and down on a couch, making “Ooh, aah!” sounds.

Before the security managed to catch him, Colton already had taken off his pants and his white, hairy ass was revealed for all of Gotham to see.

After that, the show was hurriedly cut off and the weather forecast started.

Professor Crane didn’t even notice that all the other rogues had joined him on the couch, and were now staring at the TV like a bunch of little kids watching their favorite cartoon.

“Well, that was definitely one way to destroy someone’s political career,” Nygma commented with a hint of amusement.

“A few more minutes and he would have started throwing his own poo,” Ivy added with a disgusted frown.

“Poo,” Crock giggled like a five-year-old and everyone else had to roll their eyes. “I like monkeys, monkeys are so stupid.”

“Well, actually, chimpanzees are…”

“Oh, shut up, Nygma!” Both Ivy and Crane growled as one and Edward went quiet.

“Anyway, Tetch should be back with us any minute now,” Pamela concluded with all certainty. “I hope his little revenge was worth a punch in the teeth from the Bat and getting dragged back to Arkham.”

Professor Crane didn’t say a word but he knew from an experience that yes, it was totally worth it.

[youryanderedaddy]

Mirror gaze

I am kinda proud of this one, ngl

Tw: dark, obsessive behaviour, slight horror, Stockholm syndrome, mindbreak, suicidal thoughts (hinted?)

 You were so cold. So incredibly, terribly cold, your hands felt blue and heavy, and it was summer. Sam was still at work, you had guessed, and you went to do your own thing. You were doing the dishes, scrubbing each and every spot to perfection. You weren't satisfied until you were able to see your tired reflection in the mirror. But your concentration was short - lived as you heard a woman's high - pitched voice calling for you from the living room. She sounded annoyed and sad at the same time. The idea of angering her filled your lungs with heaviness, so you quickly ran out of the kitchen, following the source of the continuous yelling.

 Soon you were standing in front of her. She looked even more terrifying than she did yesterday - her skin had lost its healthy colour and glow, her eyes were empty, the bags under them deep and black. The woman was sick - she struggled to breathe probably and her small, thin body was swaying hopelessly from side to side.

 Suddenly she pointed her bony finger in your direction and you couldn't help, but notice how each of her once long sharp nails were now broken.

 "How are you treating my boy?" The woman asked sternly, her dead eyes focused on you. The deep growl hidden underneath her feminine voice caused icy shivers down your spine and you gulped loudly to cover the long silence.

 "I am doing everything he asks of me." You answered after a while, your words drowning in the sea of tiny little breaths coming from the person next to you. Your reply wasn't satisfactory though and her thin lips remained closed in an aggravated expression.

 "Does he seem happy?" She spoke again, signing in exhaustion. You wondered how her bruised numb legs managed to support her weight so easily. Perhaps they weren't - the woman was often panting and crying in pain even though she wasn't moving an inch. Mentally you pictured how her big dark pupils became endless holes in the ground and some starved worms crawled out of them. The image almost made you chuckle, but when you opened your own eyes, her gaze was set on you, still emotionless and empty. You tried to cover your orbs and your fingertips came out wet.

 "I think he is." You started off, still staring at your hands. They seemed unnaturally big. Sam liked your arms - he always said that they were soft and smooth, but now that they were so abnormal, would he still want to touch them? To touch you? The wave of your thoughts splashed against a hard rock when the woman raised another question.

 "Are you good enough for him?" She inhaled slowly and for a moment her nostrils dilated. There was a small trace under her nose, resembling something sticky and red, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what the liquid could be. You stayed quiet as time went on and on and the damp spot seemed to grow bigger the longer you kept your silence. But it wasn't your fault - you had no idea how to respond to the woman. Sam always called you disobedient and ungrateful. Sometimes he would squeeze the air out of your lungs if you had been particularly bad, and it always comforted you, knowing that he cares enough to help you become better for him. But there were also times where he would hold your hand gently and whisper things you didn't understand in your ear. Sometimes he would touch your flesh and reach very deep - into your heart and soul. It always made you confused when the man was acting kind. And in the end you weren't sure whether you were deserving of his attention or not. You wondered what would happen if you weren't good enough. If you were exactly who you were right now.

 "Do you love him?" The woman kept on, slightly parting her chapped cold lips. Her voice was so small now that you found it hard to hear what she had to say. You noticed a lock of hair falling down to the ground as she stared at you in anticipation. You felt so tired and hazy - the woman was making you lightheaded and her words hurt your ears. You didn't like her. In fact some days you could swear you absolutely despised her. A part of you wanted her dead.

 "I need him." You uttered at the end, your shoulders shaking because of the low temperature in the room. The window was open wide, but the sun couldn't reach the room you were in. It never did. Impulsively you stretched out your hand in an attempt to push the woman away, to at least touch her. She smiled softly.

 "Honey!" The man's voice lingered in your ears from far away. A pair of hands wrapped around your body and pulled you in a tight, suffocating hug. The familiar smell of caffeine and liquor hit your senses and you melted down to your very core. You were safe, for now. She was gone.

 "Baby, you were talking to yourself again." Sam whispered slowly, stroking your hair up and down. He was holding your wrists in a solid grip as you were trying to fight him, to break free of this endless grasp. The metal chains around your ankles jingled against each other in a mockery of your fruitless efforts. You weren't good enough after all.

 "Baby, please, calm down. I'm here now." The man cooed at you, kissing your neck softly. "Don't slip into your mind again, I'm begging you." Sam pleaded, desperate for you to calm down and return to him in one piece. The big salty tears were stinging your skin, running down your cheeks, washing away the dried blood. You were suffocating.

 "I love you, Sam." You sobbed, digging your short nails into his arm. Your head was pulsating with sharp pain. "Don't leave me."

 And then the man started reassuring you, promising that he was in love with you, that he would never leave your side, that he would always be there for you, all the while holding you too close. But he just didn't understand.

 Because the woman was back. And in her tiny bruised hands she was holding a knife with your name on it.