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ahatintimepieces · 4 years ago

Note

Oh my~ two song drabbles in the morning? What an early treat! If you’re still doing them, how about „You’ll be in my Heart“ from Phil Collins? A fluff classic and perfect for a cute little story~! Take all the time you need though!

I’m so glad to hear it! And omg yesss. I wrote this kind of quickly and hope it’s okay! It’s... long :’D I got carried away.

The ghost read in his chair. It was a new book he had nabbed from his latest victim. Not the kind of material he usually read but it was fine to pass the time. He had a lot of time in the afterlife. And yet, the past year had been one of the longest he had to endure.

Frustratingly, everything was fine. The forest was safe. The fire spirits didn’t come around too often. The queen was staying in her manor. The subconites sluffed off more than they worked. It was dang near perfect. But there was an absence. One that left him feeling sluggish and unmotivated most days. It took a couple months to admit, but with a heaviness in his chest unbecoming a weightless spirit, he missed the kid.

She just… left. Brushed him away with a broom. He supposed he understood. She had a home to get back to, but… no. He was certain any hopes he had that she would want to… well… stay was just his own selfish desires.

Grimacing he remembered the unsigned documents he had offered to try to get her to stay. They were still filed away by their BFF contract. He let out a sigh, trying to let go. It was what she wanted. It didn’t do him any good to linger in what was lost and gone.

It was just so easy for ghosts to do.

After turning a few pages, a splash came from the shallow pool around his tree. He didn’t look up. It was probably one of his minions and he wanted to finish reading a sentence while footsteps tapped into the opening of his tree.

A pause. Silence.

Snatcher finished his page before realizing maybe something was wrong. Tearing his golden gaze from the page, his usual smile dropped with his jaw. Hesitant blue eyes stared back at him.

“Kid?” His voice was strained. She nodded, her lips in a tight line as she clutched the corner of her cape in her hands.

“Hi,” she whispered tightly, looking down and shuffling on her feet.

He snapped his book shut and she jumped at the sound. Feeling a little guilty for startling her, but too caught up in his own pounding pulse to adequately respond he gripped the armrest with one of his talons.

Could she be back because—No! He inwardly scowled at himself, stopping the thought in its tracks. She did not come back because she missed him. Right? He had to act cool, calm, collected. Conceal. Don’t feel. All that ice queen jazz.

Leaning back, he summoned a smirk as he folded his talons together.

“Lose more of your hourglasses? Or did you want to try your hand at more contracts?”

Keeping her gaze low, she kept fiddling with her cape.

“A-actually.” She cleared her throat. “I was hoping to—landmyshiphere.” She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for a cold laugh or angry retort.

“You what,” he questioned, bewildered.

“Land my ship,” she said a little slower. “I… I was thinking… there was a lot I still wanted to do on this planet. A-and Subcon seemed as good a place as any…”

“What about your home?” Snatcher tilted his head, suddenly fretting over her planet’s well-being. He swallowed his feelings, shaking his head slightly. He hated that he cared so much.

“Hmm?” She paused before sighing. “It’s just—I went back and they—well—” she trailed off, slumping.

“You aren’t in trouble, are you?” He growled, ready to tear into the fool who could have caused her crestfallen features.

“No,” she said quickly. “I guess… I just felt… like they barely cared when I got back.” Her small fingers tightened around her cape, wrinkling it. “They just kept giving me more missions and I… I just felt… bad… all the time.” Her brows furrowed as she seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say. “They probably haven’t even noticed I left.”

“So, your plan was just to camp out in a haunted forest on a distant planet?” Snatcher raised an eyebrow with his golden mouth in a tight line, barely highlighting his fangs. “Why not Mafia town? They at least have markets and food. Nothing can really grow here.” Not anything edible at least.

“Well,” she offered with a nervous smile, “my BFF is here.” A moment passed and her small smile fell. “Snatcher?”

His talons were pressed tightly together as he kept his features frozen. Inwardly, he was short-circuiting. Did that mean what he thought it meant? She wanted to stay with him? It was almost too much to hope for; his heart ached as he tried to stifle the rising elation. He thought about the unsigned document. The one he had drafted meticulously and never had the chance to properly give her a chance to read through it. But… now…

“Park your ship here?” He cleared his throat and straightened, feigning a nonchalant air as he snapped his talons and summoned the document. “Well, let’s see, that’s a big favor to ask.” She squirmed a little and he cleared his throat again, trying to dispel his nerves. “If you want to park here, that’s just like saying the forest is as good as your home and I can’t just let anyone live here. So, tell you what, if you sign this paper and agree to everything it entails, I’ll let you live here and come and go as you please.”

The paper flew over to her and into her hands and a feathered pen appeared nearby. Immediately, her head snapped up with wide eyes.

“A-adoption papers?”

“I mean if you dislike it—" he fumbled, dreading the slightly panicked look in her eyes. But before he could finish his sentence, she grabbed the pen and signed at the dotted line. He blinked, almost in a daze as he waved a pointed talon and stamped his seal on the document. The document floated back to him and his chest swelled as he scanned it.

“That seals the deal, Kiddo. The forest is yours to roam freely—”

Sniffling caused him to pause.

“Kid?” He snapped his fingers, filing the adoption papers safely away before flying over to her as she wiped fruitlessly at her eyes.

“S-so I can c-call you dad, now?” She choked out with shaking shoulders.

“Yeah,” Snatcher said, rather ineloquently for a lawyer ghost who was also once a prince. She cried harder and Snatcher held out his arms, hesitating. Finally, he tentatively scooped her up and she looked up at him with wide, watery eyes.

“You’re safe now,” Snatcher promised, brushing her light brown bangs from her eyes. She blinked up at him and sniffled. His heart leapt to his throat as he thought of a song his mother always used to sing. It had been so long… and he wasn’t sure it would soothe the kid like he hoped… but if she wanted him to be her dad as much as he wanted her to be his daughter… he could try.

“Come, stop your crying,” he lowered his voice into a gentle cadence, brushing one of her tears away with a soft talon. “It will be alright. Just take my hand,” he held out his talon and she grabbed onto it, hugging it against her small stature. He couldn’t keep his smile out of his tone. “Hold it tight.

“I will protect you,” he continued softly, floating back to settle down in his chair, “From all around you. I will be here. Don’t you cry.”

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against his mane as she hugged his hand. Her tears began to dry.

“For one so small, you seem so strong,” he continued as she drifted. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, focusing on the words. “My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us, can’t be broken.” His voice wavered a little as he held the last note, either from lack of practice or from the lump in his throat. “I will be here. Don’t you cry.”

He shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Her head readjusted on his shoulder. Her small fingers linked with his, their palms clasped together.

“’Cause you’ll be in my heart,” he sang, tapping his toes lightly in time to the cadence. Wait—He glanced down, mildly surprised he had shifted without thinking. His human hand was wrapped tightly with hers, and she leaned against the puffy, purple sleeve on his shoulder. His laced boots stretched up past his knees and she perched comfortably in his lap.

“Yes,” he continued, his voice soft as he examined himself for a moment before sighing and, instead, focusing on hugging his daughter close, “you’ll be in my heart. From this day on, Now and forever more.”

“I love you, Dad,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed as a contented smile bloomed across her features.

“And I love you, Kiddo,” he whispered back, leaning down and pressing his forehead against hers. He sang a little longer, waiting until her breathing stilled and sleep and sweet dreams lulled her senses. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and muttered, “You’ll be here in my heart, always.”

#a hat in time #soft-hugs-and-bugs #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #my writing #song lyric drabbles #I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH THANK YOU #THIS IS 1500 WORDS I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE IT THAT LONG WHOOPS #but basically my brain this morning was like what if the contract snatcher used to try to get her to stay was adoption papers #and my response to my own brain was oof #I HAVE MORE PROMPTS IN MY ASK BUT I WILL PROBABLY STOP FOR A BIT AND HANG ONTO THEM FOR A WHILE #IM SORRY BUT ALSO THANK YOU TO EVERYONE SENDING ME PROMPTS IM SO GRATEFUL #ALSO THANK YOU TO ALL THE TAGS AND COMMENTS ON THE PREVIOUS TWO DRABBLES THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME THANK YOU #OKAY NOW I GOTTA SKEDADDLE #but i hope you enjoy!#this song is gonna be stuck in my head all day and im thrilled

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sunrisefairy · 4 years ago

Text

Cameras and crushes

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warning: Alcohol, small mention of death, pure fluffiness

Summary: Y/N is used to being a background character someone you glaze over but never really notice. But more recently she longed for someone to see her, well she longed for a certain redhead to see her.

A/N: Wrote this for @theweasleysredhair writing challenge based off the prompt “You remembered?” very proud of this fic so i hope you love it as much as i do. All feedback is welcomed :))))

italics represent a flashback

Taglist: send me a message if you would like to be added @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @klausdatprettyboi @georgeweasleyswhre

————————————————————————

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. Growing up with 3 older and much louder brothers she was pretty happy with sticking to the sidelines, letting them be noisy and crazy while she kept to herself. Y/N grew up with mostly boys around her, her mother passed away when she was young. Y/N would always beg her brothers and her dad for stories of her mother, wanting to feel closer to her. Y/N’s dad would fondly retell memories of his beautiful wife, reminiscing on how witty and charismatic she was. He’d mention all the small, quirky things she would do which made him fall hard and fast for her. Y/N longed for that kind of love, she longed for someone to take notice of her in the way her dad did for her mum. Ever since Y/N was a little girl she yearned to be heard and seen but that proved difficult when you’re as shy and quiet as her.

Judging by most of the people in Y/N’s life she seemed to attract the boisterous types, guessing her quiet nature balanced them out. She loved her friends with her entire heart, even if their personalities were the opposite of hers, Y/N wouldn’t change their qualities if she could.

One of her friends, although still lively and vibrant as the others, also had a calm and tranquil side to him. George Weasley. Y/N had only known George for a few years having met at Lee Jordan’s 18th birthday 3 years ago. Somehow that night she had ended up climbing a tree with the tall redhead whom she had only met 30 minutes prior.

“How the hell did you get up to that branch?” Y/N mumbled, trying to figure out how to reach the higher branch where George Weasley was currently sitting, his long legs swinging back and forth as he chuckled at the girl below him.

“I used that branch sticking out there and then swung my leg up to get here.” George points to the branch to the girls left.

Y/N grunts as she attempts what George said but huffs and pouts her lip feeling defeated, “you forget that I have little legs, unlike you Mr. giraffe.”

George rolls his eyes and stretches his hand out, “try again, I’ll help pull you up.”

Somehow, George manages to pull Y/N up and they sit comfortably next to one another up high in the tree. “There you go little bunny, don’t go falling off now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the nickname wishing she had brought her cider up with her feeling very self-conscious and unsure of what to do her shaking hands.

The pair fall into a comfortable silence, watching the party goers below them gathered around a very intoxicated birthday boy chanting as he chugs another beer, “we love to drink with Lee cause Lee is our mate and when we drink with Lee he gets it down in 8…7…”

Their voices drown out as George gently nudges Y/N’s shoulder pulling her attention back to him, “soo, Y/N I hear you’re not much of the talker?”

Y/N blushes hard grateful for the lack of light outside. “No I guess not. Not many are interested in what I have to say.”

George smiles, his eyes not leaving the girl beside him, “well I am. Tell me something.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip nervously and looks back at the drunk crowd, “like what?”

George shrugs, he didn’t really mind what the conversation was about, he just wanted to hear the pretty girl speak. “I dunno, anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Y/N racks her brain for something to talk about, her palms getting sweaty from the long silence. Finally, she settles on something that always fills her with joy, her mother.

“Um okay so,” she starts staring at the leaves swaying in the tree, pushing down the anxiety. “Before my mother died she always had this film camera with her, my dad used to joke around saying that she loved this camera more than him,” Y/N chuckles quietly before continuing “She would take photos of the most random things, we have this big box back home filled with all the photos she ever took with that camera.” Y/N pauses, fumbling with her fingers. “I wish we still had the camera. You see after my mum passed, dad had to look after us 4 kids and with only one income coming in, it was pretty tough. For my 12th birthday I reeeaaally wanted a new bike, I’d complained for years that I couldn’t have my brothers old one because it was a gross boy’s bike. So, my dad sold my mums camera to get me a pink one. Kind of wish he didn’t because I would have loved to still have mum’s camera with us.”

Y/N finished and chewed her lip realising speaking about her dead mother probably wasn’t a great conversation piece, but any story of her mother always made her feel warm inside.

George hadn’t taken his eyes off her throughout the whole story, his heart fluttering when her eyes had lit up as she spoke about her mother.

“I’m sorry, probably not what you wanted to hear, it was the first thing that popped into my head.” Y/N mumbled.

George simply shook his head and replied, “you don’t ever have to apologise to me for saying what’s on your mind Y/N. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

For the first time in a while, Y/N felt seen.

Y/N’s phone dings and she pulls it from her pocket to read the message.

-Hey bunny :) so 4 tonight, we’re aiming to get to urs at like 7. does that work for u?

It was from George. Even if she didn’t have his number saved, she’d be able to tell it was from the redhead simply from his choice of nickname. Y/N hated when he called her bunny but George insisted on using the nickname ever since Lee’s 18th mainly because he thought it was cute not that he would tell her that.

Y/N’s heart thumped harder in her chest purely from the fact that George had texted her. Her crush on George had amplified over the years of knowing the boy, feeling both thankful and uneasy at the fact that he had so effortlessly slotted into their tight friendship group mainly because he was always around making Y/N a stuttering mess.

Y/N’s fingers fumble as she types out a response, it was her birthday today and all her friends we’re persistent in throwing her a party. They had agreed to a small gathering at Y/N’s place, Y/N didn’t want them to make such a fuss over it.

-Hey Georgie, 7 is perfect! Cant wait.

-See u then bunny, hope ur ready to get ur drink on ;)

-IDK, after the other weekend I dont think im ready to face alcohol again

-nope! no excuses from u, u only turn 21 once

Y/N chuckles at George’s message and goes back to tidying her house, ready for tonight.

~~~~

As soon as it hits 7pm her friends are barging through her front door lugging drinks.

Each of them greet Y/N giving her a hug and wishing her happy birthday.

“We’ll do presents later, first let’s get some drinks into us!” Angelina cheers as she starts to mix some deadly concoction. Alicia connects her phone to the speaker, the living room filling with music.

Y/N jumps as a voice pipes up from behind her, “happy birthday little bunny.”

She turns facing George as he places a brightly coloured wrapped box on the counter with the other presents. He opens his arms, engulfing her into a giant hug. Y/N wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze, “thanks” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away looking up at his warm eyes. They stare at each other for a second before the moment is broken when Fred places something on Y/N’s head.

“A birthday tiara for the birthday girl” Fred states loudly, Y/N glances at the mirror hanging from the wall on her left sees a plastic silver and pink tiara perched upon her head.

“Oh god,” Y/N mumbles adjusting it slightly.

Lee shouts over the music, drawing everyone’s attention over to him. “Okay everyone, the ever lovely Angie has made us each a questionable looking but delicious drink to start the night. So get your butts over here and let’s get this party started!”

A few hours and many, many drinks later, everyone is huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches watching Y/N open her presents. So far, she had gotten some perfume from Angelina, chocolates and a gorgeous photo frame from Alicia and Fred and Lee had gifted Y/N with a bottle of wine and voucher from the little boutique at the corner of her street. Y/N’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much and her heart swelled at the sweet gifts her friends had gotten her.

“Okay, only one left,” Alicia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Probably the best one,” Fred whispers to Lee.

“Of course it’s going to be the best one you idiot,” Angelina says as a matter of fact, overhearing the two boys.

George, who is sitting to Y/N’s right, hands over the brightly colour box, trying to hide his excitement and nerves. “Here you go Y/N, happy birthday.”

The box feels heavy in Y/N’s grasp as she places it in her lap tearing off the wrapping paper. Y/N glances around, noticing everyone’s eager eyes on her. She sees Angelina nudge Alicia’s side smiling at each other knowingly. Y/N furrow her brows, slightly confused then draws her attention back to the box. She ripped off the paper carefully and uncover a brown box, no hints as to what is inside.

“Oh my god, hurry up and open it the suspense is killing me!” Fred says impatiently, George whacks him across the head telling him to shut up.

Y/N take off the lid and immediately her mouth gapes open finally seeing what’s inside. She shakily lifts the film camera out of the box and hold it so gently as if it’s made of diamonds and gold.

Small tears prick in Y/N’s eyes, shocked and surprised at George’s gift, it looks exactly like the one her mother had.

She manages to squeak out a small, “you remembered?” referring to the first conversation they had 3 years prior.

George has a small smile etched onto his lips. “Of course I did, I remember everything you tell me. I take a lot of pride in knowing everything about you actually.” He says, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Yeah like what?” Y/N cradles the camera in her arms.

“Well,” George starts. “I know that you hate the smell tequila because it reminds you of your 18th when you spent most of the night by the toilet. I know that you can’t sleep if the room is dead quiet. I know that you love buying plants but can never seem to keep them alive. I know you never wear matching socks because you think it’s a fun way to spice up an outfit.” He finishes smugly.

Alicia and Angelina let out a small aww in the background reminding Y/N of the 4 other sets of eyes watching her and George right now.

“Well there’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah? What’s that then?” George counters.

Y/N doesn’t know where she musters up the courage from to speak the next words, maybe from the alcohol buzzing through her body or finally being sick of keeping this to herself for the past 3 years. Whatever it may be, she’s rather proud of herself, ignoring the way her stomach churns.

“That I have a huge crush on you.”

She expected George to laugh in her face before rejecting her gently. What Y/N definitely didn’t expect was him to cradle her face in his large hands, pressing a sweet but passionate kiss to her pink lips. She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, gripping onto his shirt tightly, scared he would slip away.

Much to Y/N’s dismay George pulls away from the kiss tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear, “no I knew that too.”

“Wha-how?” Y/N stutters.

The attention is pulled to Alicia as she begins to speak, “it wasn’t much of a secret babe. Everybody knew you were crushing on George. Can’t believe it took either one of you so long to do something about it.”

“Little Georgie here spent months trying to find that camera for you as a way to confess his undying love for you.” Fred reaches over and ruffles his twin’s hair who shoves him off.

“Yep, we were all so bloody excited for you to open his presents so you two can stop pining over each other.” Lee adds downing the rest of his drink then standing up. “Right, now the two love birds have finally confessed their feelings. Who’s up for a round of beer pong? Reigning champion here has yet to be defeated.”

“You’re on Jordan, that ego of yours has gotten large enough.” Fred challenges, everyone moving over to the table to set up for beer pong. Leaving Y/N and George alone on the couch.

George wraps his lanky arm around Y/N’s shoulder pulling her into his side, “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday bunny.”

Y/N grins widely, playing with her new camera before lifting it up and aiming it at George. “best birthday ever Georgie, thank you.” She squeezes the button down, snapping a picture of George who is staring at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. But for once she doesn’t mind being the centre of someone’s undivided attention.

#George weasley #George weasley one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fan fic #Fred and george #george weasley imagine #twrh9kwritingchallenge

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yeongwvnhi · 3 years ago

Text

》Troublemaker《

Superpowers AU, College AU, Poly AU

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added): @twancingyunhoe @biaswreckingfics @donghanies @moonshineboyz @soleilsuhh @trashlord-007

Genre: crack, fluff, angst, suspension, suggestive

Rating: 16+

General Warnings: rituals, lots of fighting, language, injuries, weapons, detailed descriptions of fights and injuries, some mature themes, lots of kissing and teasing

Chapter Specific Warnings: teacher and headmaster being overly rude, cussing

Pairing: The Boyz x fem reader

Synopsis: in a world where superpowers are nothing special and everyone is gifted with some kind of special ability, you and your friends quickly grow tired of it and all the rules. So when one of your friends brings up a certain ritual, with which you can travel into another universe, it sounds like heaven, but you quickly realize it's harder to adapt than you'd like.

Word count: 2.7k

》Next《》Masterlist《

It's fairly early when you leave your home for college, around 7am something. The air around you is still fairly crisp and cool, but you're not bothered. Others would be shaking if they went outside in just skinny jeans and a simple sweater when it's 0°C outside.

But you? You're not bothered in the slightest as you calmly walk down the street and towards the giant building.

It's metallic cover reflects the sunlight, slightly blinding you in the process. It makes you squint and avert your eyes.

"Y/N!"

Your head turns in the direction of the call and you see your best friend jogging towards you with a bright grin. "Oh, hey."

"Good morning!" He beams, way too enthusiastic for your liking at this hour.

A demonstrative yawn escapes you as you lazily wave at him. "Morn'..." You mumble and wipe the tears out of your eyes which gathered due to your yawn.

"Aren't you gonna give your bestie a hug?" He pouts and his dimples make an appearance. "I'm disappointed."

A chuckle escapes you before you turn towards him completely and give him his desired display of affection.

A happy sigh escapes him as he tightly slings his arms around you. "I'm never letting you go, it's too cold!" He whines when you move to break the hug.

"Wear warmer clothes then, you buffoon." You mumble, struggling to push him away and ultimately just giving up.

"Nahh, why would I do that when I have my personal heater right under my nose?" He teases.

"Shut up and let me go, we have classes soon." You whine and push at his chest again.

He relents with a high pitched laugh as he watches you stumble back, his arms letting go easier than expected and making you lose your balance for a few seconds.

"You fucker" You hiss while taking big, fast steps towards your destination.

"My baby! Don't be mad!" Your friend whines while jogging to match your pace.

"It's not even 8 yet and the two of you are already having a quarrel." A new voice joins the two of you.

Startled by the sudden intervention, you whip your head to pinpoint the source and find another guy of your friend group.

"Sangyeon? Where did you come from?" You ask, eyes moving up to meet his.

"You must have forgotten that I always meet you at this section in the road, tsk." The older one answers and shakes his head.

"Sorryyyy" You say with a chuckle, "but Changmin here decided to be an ass first thing in the morning! It's his fault"

"HUH??" The culprit screeches in surprise, "Excuse me??"

"Be quiet you two, I don't need a headache right before classes."

"Sorryy" Changmin and you chime in unison, "dad." the former adds and snickers, earning himself a glare from Sangyeon.

The three of you continue on the rest of the way in silence and you couldn't be more grateful. Your mind is not yet in the right place for any intellectual conversation.

The enormous college building towers in front of you all as you reach the campus.

"Ohh look, the others are already here!" Changmin happily points out, proceeding to skip towards said friend group.

Sangyeon and you exchange an amused glance before also walking towards them.

"Morning everyone." You wave at the guys and they all greet you back.

"Y/N my love!" Your other best friend exclaims and jumps to hug you, "I'm so glad you're finally here! Please warm me up, I'm freezing!"

The other guys laugh at their youngest friend's antics, you included. Nonetheless you proceed to hug him around his middle and make use of your powers. Your skin immediately heats up to a nice and cozy temperature and the guy hums in relief.

"You're such a baby." You chuckle and pat his broad back affectionately.

"Classes start in about 10 minutes, we can go inside now."

"Oh, look who decided to show up." Sangyeon teases.

"What? Why would I show up half an hour before classes?" Said newcomer replies. "I can take all the time I need, unlike you guys~"

"Stop being arrogant, Hyun." The oldest playfully scolds.

"Now now, don't fight." Jacob intervenes, voice clearly expressing his worry.

"Hold on, what class do we have now?" You suddenly realize and look up to meet Sunwoo's eyes.

"Uhh I'm pretty sure it's chem." He replies, now looking at Younghoon for confirmation.

"Yeah" he nods. "We should go, it's all the way on the top floor of the building."

Sunwoo and you groan in unison, totally not thrilled on having to walk up 10 flights of stairs.

"I actually also have chemistry, but in another course." Jaehyun says, "It's on the same floor though."

The three of you guys look at your friend with hope.

"Urgh, fiiine." He groans, already knowing exactly what you were all going to ask of him.

"Yay!" You beam happily and peel yourself away from Youngjae. "Sorry hun but you gotta get inside quickly to stay warm I guess."

He grumbles something inaudible and you immediately attach yourself to Jaehyun's arm instead and give him a smile. "You're the best, Hyunnie!"

He can't help the amused smile to crawl onto his lips. "I know."

You hear Sunwoo make a gagging sound, prompting you to laugh. "Let's go now."

"Sure, sure." Jaehyun hums and within a second the four of you are up on the top floor.

"Thank you~" You happily chime and stand on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the man's cheek. Then you turn around, link arms with Sunwoo and Younghoon and drag them into your chemistry classroom with a content smile on your face.

Both men exchange a glance at that interaction and internally behead Jaehyun for having his useful ability.

When Sunwoo turns his head to look at the older guy, Jaehyun shows him a priggish smirk and waves before disappearing.

"He really-"

"Good morning you three!" Your teacher greets and Sunwoo immediately stiffens, startled by the voice. "Class starts in 5 minutes, find your seats!"

"Yes ma'am!" The three of you reply and give a quick bow before scurrying to your seats.

"Miss Im is so scary…" Younghoon shudders and you nod.

—

Your teacher had given the class an experiment to work on in groups of three. Funnily enough, a student had broken one of the school's bunsen burners, so now your group was without one.

"Great, just great" Miss Im angrily says under her breath.

"Miss" You say and raise your hand. She looks at you and nods. "I can use my power instead for fire-"

"Under no circumstance will you do that!" She immediately shoots down your idea and raises her voice. "What if you set fire to something in here? You could hurt us!"

You don't know what to say, feeling at a loss for words at her sudden outburst. Sunwoo and Younghoon notice your shaking hands and glare at the teacher.

"Did you really have to lash out at her like that? She just suggested it!" Sunwoo angrily replies and stands up from his chair, smacking the table. "We all here have been living with our powers ever since we were 5! We have them under control! Y/N would never hurt someone on purpose!"

Younghoon had hugged you close to calm your anxiety down while everyone just watched and listened to Sunwoo's outburst.

Then it was quiet for a moment, Miss Im too stunned to say anything back and the rest of the class only agreed with him.

Sunwoo was quite literally charged, you could see little lightning bolts dancing all over him.

"Sunwoo…" You quietly say and he looks at you. "It's okay."

He takes a deep breath and shoots the teacher another sharp glare.

She clicks her tongue angrily and just ignores this incident, instead opting to not grade your group on this one.

—

After class ends the three of you quickly make your way downstairs and onto the campus to meet the others. Sunwoo was stubbornly clinging onto your arm with an annoyed pout on his face.

"Hey Sunwoo." you speak up and nudge him so he looks at you. "Thank you for interfering."

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and says "No big deal."

"Thank you too Hoonie." you turn to the older guy and give him an affectionate smile which he returns shyly.

"Oh look, the troublemakers are coming." Someone teases when the three of you proceed on your way towards your friend group.

You turn to glare at the person, your red eyes flaring dangerously and they immediately look away, visibly flustered.

"Hey hey, we already heard you guys got in trouble." Jacob says first when you are within hearing range. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Don't worry, we're fine." You answer and wave him off, but the way he eyes Sunwoo tells you that's not what he wanted to hear.

"Miss Im went off on Y/N after she offered to use her powers for the experiment because a burner was missing." Younghoon explains and you feel Sunwoo tighten his group on your arm even further. "A- Sunwoo what's gotten into you?" You exclaim to him and prod at his arm to give you some room.

"I'm sorry Noona, I'm just still mad at Miss Im." He mumbles and hides his face on your shoulder.

"Stop being a baby." Juyeon speaks up and pries the younger one from you… well he tries. "Argh, let go already! Chanhee, come help me out!"

"Wha- Hyung what am I supposed to do??" The younger one replies incredulously.

"Just help me get this walking taser off of Y/N!"

You snort at that exclamation and Sunwoo gives Juyeon a pointed look. "Did you really just call me a walking taser?!"

"So what if I did?"

"Unbelievable." Chanhee shakes his head, but an amused smile plays at his lips nonetheless.

Your eyes basically scream 'help me!!' As you look at Youngjae, the youngest out of you all gives you a laugh before nodding. And suddenly Sunwoo's grip on you loosens and you quickly peel yourself away and hide behind the culprit. "Thanks Jae." you snicker against his arm as you peek out to look at a confused Sunwoo.

"Yah!" He literally screams, making all of you flinch besides Changmin. "Youngjae I swear-"

"Enough now, kids!" Sangyeon finally steps in and silences Sunwoo quickly. He pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

You move from behind Youngjae to stand to his left, now in between him and Changmin.

"Ohh guys!" The latter suddenly speaks up with sparkly eyes and everyone looks at him. "How about we have a sleepover at my house this weekend? We're free next week so we can have some fun together!"

Everyone quickly makes eye contact with the others. "Sure!" Haknyeon nods and adjusts his choker. "I'm itching to take this thing off, it's really weird to be as close to normal as it can get here."

You all laugh at that, remembering how he has to wear it due to his powers. His hyperawareness is a very useful power, but also hard to live with, since he gets easily overwhelmed in crowded places. He had someone in his family create that ability dimmer for him so he could live without being constantly overwhelmed.

"You over there!"

All of you turn to see who called, finding it to be your headmaster. "Kim Sunwoo and L/N Y/N, come over here."

You give Youngjae a panicked look and he shoots you one right back. That can't be good.

The two of you slowly walk towards the man, stopping about a meter in front of him. "Do you know why I came to speak with you?"

"No, sir." You shake your head, not daring to look into his eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes you see Sunwoo trembling slightly.

"Well, I came here because Miss Im told me about what happened during her chemistry lesson. Shall I remind you, Miss L/N, that it is strictly prohibited to use your powers on campus grounds, unless they're unable to be deactivated?"

"N-No, I know that, sir." You reply quietly. "But we were missing a burner, so I thought-"

"You thought what? That it would be a good idea to use your powers instead and to risk hurting your classmates? Hm?"

"I'm so-sorry. It won't happen again, sir"

"And now on to you, Mister Kim." The headmaster turns to Sunwoo instead and you try to calm your racing heart and keep your anxious tears at bay. "You're really cocky for a 2nd year, just raising your voice at a teacher like that AND using your powers in a classroom."

"Miss Im has started it." Sunwoo replies through gritted teeth, "She could've calmly explained it, but instead she decided to humiliate Y/N Noona in front of the whole class! Was I just supposed to watch?!"

"Sunwoo-" You hiss, scared for him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me right, sir."

"Don't make me call your parents." The much older man threatens.

"Oh, go ahead then." Sunwoo replies, "I don't care."

"Sunwoo!" You say with big eyes. "Stop it!"

"You should listen to your little friend, Mister Kim." The headmaster sneers, "I'll let you off the hook since you never did anything before. You better behave." he clicks his tongue and leaves.

You grab Sunwoo by the collar and pull him to match your height. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Hey hey…" Jacob quickly makes an appearance and gently touches your shoulders with nothing but worry all over his face. "Please calm down Y/N."

"You idiot, he could have expelled you or something! Don't do stuff like that!" You practically beg him with teary eyes.

The younger one's eyes soften. "I'm sorry Noona, I won't do it again, but please don't cry."

Jacob takes a step back and just watches, mostly relieved that you weren't angry and that he wouldn't have to break up a fight.

"Give me a hug you idiot…" You grumble and wipe your eyes. Sunwoo gives a panicked wheeze, locking eyes with Changmin and Youngjae. They both just wave him off.

"Okay okay, don't cry." He says and gives in, pulling you close and patting your back.

The others watch from a bit away, soft smiles on their faces, almost forgetting why you two are in that situation in the first place.

But then the bell rang, snapping you all out of your thoughts.

Changmin drags you by your wrist, Chanhee on your other side as they lead the way to your next class.

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?" Chanhee softly asks from your left side and you turn to look at him.

"I feel okay now, thank you for worrying." You reply and flash the taller man a quick smile.

Changmin intertwined his fingers with yours. It's nothing new, the two of you used to do that ever since you became friends.

"Chanhee Hyung, where is the literature classroom again?"

The oldest of you three thinks for a moment and looks at the numbers next to the doors. "It's room 371."

"Ahh thank you~" Changmin happily replies and you guys make your way into the room.

—

Chanhee stretches his long limbs after the bell chimed, indicating the end of the class. "Today's lesson was pretty intense, don't you guys think?"

"Yeah, there was a lot." Changmin frowns a little. "Y/N how were you holding up?"

Your head shoots up in surprise, caught off guard while packing your stuff. "Uh- It was alright. I understood most of it actually."

Both men give you weird looks. "You never understand stuff in literature, what happened?" Changmin says with furrowed brows.

"I think it's because she actually paid attention this time." Chanhee adds with a chuckle, "She looked so concentrated, it was cute."

You feel your body heating up and avert your eyes. "Whatever, let's go."

The two men exchange amused glances but don't speak on it any further, opting to just follow you out of the building.

You didn't expect to run into this particular person when you exited through the large glass doors.

After all, he got expelled for using his powers on campus and a few other things.

"Hyunjun?"

#yuki writes #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #destinyverse #prism.nw #fkp net #tbz #the boyz #tbz fluff #tbz angst #tbz fanfic #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #the boyz fanfic #yeongwvnhi.txt

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symphonicmetal101 · 4 years ago

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Ayy Thanks for 500 Followers!

I know I haven't been super active, but I'm very grateful for all of y'all that have joined me here! This is both a celebration and a reminder that if you discriminate against anyone for their gender, pronouns, sexuality, skin colour, age, and overall self expression so long as it is not harmful to other people-

You are not welcome here.

So now, that you've either ignored that message bc it doesn't apply to you, or you know it does and you won't leave anyways, here is what's up!

I have been struggling with motivation, and most of my time was consumed by work, which I have left now to focus on family and myself- I don't foresee myself writing more than drabbles- (or thirsts with my NSFW blog- if you are a minor or ageless bio you will be blocked also page is lowkey deas, but Im hoping to get it up again soon) for a little while. Also, all my asks were deleted, but anon if you're still around, yes, eventually my 3 Things Series as well as my Guide to Babysitting in the Devildom will be continued- just not right now. As for those of you who sent in asks for prompt list three, I am so sorry. I cannot remember the requests- HOWEVER! I hope I can make it up to y'all with this if ya choose to participate-

500 Follower Special-

Pretty self explanatory^^

Send me a combination of numbers, and I'll write a short drabble/scenario based on the "code" you send me

(Line break now bc I am taking up a lot of space-)

CHARACTER

Lucifer

Mammon

Levi

Satan

Asmo

Beel

Belphie

Barbatos

Diavolo

Simeon

Luke

Solomon

Writers choice-

GENRE (you can pick one or two)

Fluff

Angst

Crack

Writers choice-

PLACE

Demon Lords Castle

HoL (at home)

The Fall

Ristorante Six

Majolish

Celestial Realm

Human Realm

Unspecified

Writers choice

Colour (idek what this is for we'll find out together-)

Red

Orange

Yellow

Green

Blue

Purple

Brown

Black

Grey

White

Pink

???? I don't want a colour??

As always, my writing is gender neutral! Always! Because then everyone can enjoy it. ♡

Please do not send an ask in all writers choice I do not have the brain capacity to do such a thing-

Anyways, I'm really grateful for yall, love ya!

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dracosearlgreytea · 5 years ago

Text

indelicate marks (5)

indelicate marks: chapter five - the first lesson

A/N: here is chapter five! if you have had enough patience to get to here i am very proud and i thank you for putting up with so many arguments haha but dont worry very soon we shall be getting to the juicy stuff! its only the beginning! lots of love - ivy

warnings: language, pretty awful bullying, implications of suicidal thoughts, draco being mean, everyone is mean, but especially draco (im sorry)

lovely tags: @h-annahayy @okaydraco @fanficflaneuse

indelicate marks index

Undeniably, you were utterly and completely terrified of Occlumency. The entire act of it threw you back into the Easter holidays of your previous year at Hogwarts. Hours and hours of having your parents force their way into your mind, digging through every memory and every thought. Every time it left you sobbing, shaking, begging for them to stop, often having to run to the bathroom and turn out your stomach. They were two strangers, really. You'd been a year old when they'd been sentenced to life in Azkaban. Two strangers, rummaging around in your head. You were equally terrified of having to let Draco rummage through it, too. After having counted down every day till your decided meeting, there was a slight tremor in your hand to compliment the nausea sitting in your stomach as you climbed the shifting stairs. You were grateful that everyone was in the Great Hall and wouldn't be able to see the direction you headed. Not that anyone would take notice. Not unless they'd found some new threats to hurtle at you, anyway. Although you tried very hard not to, you seemed to have taken up a new habit of paying attention to Draco and his ever worsening appearance over the past few weeks. It was as though he got more and more exhausted every day, and whilst you could feel a very similar phenomenon within yourself, the fact that Draco Malfoy was so concerned about... Whatever it was he was dealing with, was making you - as much as you loathed to admit it - worry. Not just for whatever chaos would surely ensue from it. Of course, it was bound to be related to the mark on his arm, which only made you worry more. What the hell had happened to him over the summer? Worrying about Draco and whatever his involvement with the Dark Lord was only seemed to make your own anxieties multiply. It was a spiral, a steep and downward spiral, that left you with that constant sick feeling. It was as though you were falling, slowly and quickly all at the same time. You had a million questions for him that you would never allow yourself to ask, and he would most certainly not ever answer, but they echoed in your mind into the night, keeping you tossing and turning in your bed. Did he take it willingly? No, surely not, or he wouldn't have been crying about it that time in the bathrooms. Would Draco have just let someone give him that mark? And who did? Does Voldemort have to give each Deatheater a mark individually? Oh, shit, what if I have to actually meet the Dark Lord? No, that doesn't make sense... On, and on. Hesitation overcame you as you finally arrived outside the classroom door and you had to take a deep breath to settle your nerves before you pushed it open. Dust shifted in the air as you entered, illuminated by the days last light, which flooded in through the broken, tinted windows. Desks still sat in rows, facing a chalkboard that would most likely never been used again, papers scattered and worn into the floor beneath your feet. "You're late." The drawl of an increasingly familiar voice still made you jump, and your eyes flicked to the edge of the room opposite you. You'd almost missed him, where he sat on the edge of a desk, partially hidden by the shadows. His wand hung from his fingers, and he flicked it up absentmindedly. "Colloportus." Behind you, the door clicked, locked. "Was that really necessary?" You muttered, edging away from the door, trying to ignore how the action made your heart rate increase. There was no escape. You were now locked in a room with Draco Malfoy - who, was about to delve into your most private thoughts - and was also a Deatheater. He washed his grey gaze over you, eyes finally coming to meet yours piercingly, sending a small shiver down your spine. "Can't be too careful." He shrugged. Coming to stand a couple meters away from him, you inspected him, noting how pale he looked. More pale than usual. In fact, he looked as though he could have been sick. "You look like you're about to fucking puke." Draco spoke again, monotone, snapping you back to the situation at hand as he withdrew. Looking you up and down, his lips dragged downward in a vague disgust. Feeling all too uneasy under his scrutiny, but passing off the feeling, you rolled your eyes. "Skip the niceties, by all means." Your mutter prompted him to smirk lightly, your gaze becoming all too focused on the way the corner of his lips then shifted upward. "I'm about to be inside your head. I wouldn't worry about niceties." Dread pooled in your gut at his blunt words, and you pulled your eyes away from him. Standing, he gave you another, rather condescending look. "You aren't about to puke, are you?" "No," You groaned, shooting him a glare. "Let's just - just get on with it." Draco only tightened his grip on his wand, adjusting his stance. "Clear your mind, and focus." Your chest was painfully tight, sending him a nod of acknowledgement. He seemed to take this as a prompt, as his wand came upward, and he spoke clearly. "Legilimens!" Panic flooded your being as his conscious plummeted into yours, thoughts loud and overbearing as you tried so hard to ignore them - but the feeling was overpowering, utterly overwhelming, and your parents voices were too loud in your ears again. Stop being so overemotional! Compartmentalise! It was too much. The Forbidden Forest, third year. "Deatheaters like Dementors, don't they?" Laughs and shouts came from around you, their grips hard on your arms. They dragged you through the trees, your feet skimming over fallen branches, stopping you from struggling. You were shouting, protesting, but the grips were tightening more and more. There was a dip in the ground, and then you were falling, hitting the dirt with a thud and rolling over damp mud. "You'll be right at home with the Dementors. Mum and Dad ever talk about them?" Winded, you coughed, heaving as the cheers died down. Icy cold spread over your skin, the sound of deathly wheezing echoing in your ears. Footsteps, fell away and you ran your eyes over the lake - cloaked figures descending around you, predator to prey. You let out a choked sob, gripped with fear. Stumbling to your feet, you began to run, one of the vile creatures swooping in close. Your ears rang as it approached you, and the force of the kiss pushed you back to the ground. Terrified, you curled in on yourself, shivering and freezing. Just kill me, please, just kill me- Another dark blur, and then you were plunged into another setting before you could even attempt to take back an ounce of control. The Room of Requirement filled out around you, bursts of white light shooting across the room. Joy - it was such an unfamiliar feeling, but you welcomed it as your lips stretched into a grin. Hermione Granger shot you an equally wide smile as a bright, white otter swum around her, before jetting towards you, just missing you as your own patronus leaped up into the air. A laugh escaped your lips, echoing in your ears as you stared back at the creature, swiftly moving up, up, up, until - there was an awful shattering, the walls seeming to groan, lights flickering around you. The joy dissipated, and you were left with fear. Words scrawled across your hand, etched into your skin, burning. "Harry! Hey, Harry," You were in the hallway, now, after detention with Umbridge. The trio did not stop, Harry's head only turning briefly as you called. "I need to talk to you," You tried, rushing after them, and he finally stopped, only to spin and fix you with a stare. "It's over." He growled. "Stop making excuses. You told Malfoy, didn't you?" "No!" You begged. "How could you say it was me? You saw Cho-" "Don't bother talking to us again, Y/N." There was rage. A lot of rage, but it only simmered into a terrible self loathing, as you watched them walk away, burning inside. Smoldering. Before another memory could take the previous one's place, you threw yourself out of the memory violently. Stumbling away from him, you dropped to your knees, tears stinging your eyes. Bile burnt the back of your throat as gasping desperately for oxygen. That horrible feeling of rejection took a moment to fully fade, leaving you shivering and hiccuping as tears rolled down your cheeks. "Take your time." Draco sounded a lot closer than he was before, and you pushed yourself to sit upright. Dragging in long, deep breaths, your eyes shut as you wrapped your arms around your legs, curling in on yourself. Shockingly, he didn't have that usual taunt in his tone. When the dizziness finally passed, you dared to open your eyes, wiping your face and giving him a glimpse. Draco looked tense, features tight as he stared back at you. The look in his eye was intense - but other than that, you couldn't quite decipher what emotion it was reflecting. Before you could talk, he extended his hand, and you stared at it for a moment. The out of character act eased the knot of anxiety in your stomach, and you took it, allowing him to help pull you up off the floor, his eyes not leaving you once. Avoidant of that persistent gaze, you sighed. "What?" "What?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "If you've got something to say, then just bloody say it." You snapped, lips curling into a small frown. He continued to watch you, silent, for another second. "Why did you help Potter?" Draco asked, tone edged but not harsh. You blinked in surprise, lips forming a small frown. "What do you mean?" "You joined that group." He stated, as though his question had a very obvious answer. "Why? You get treated like shit by Mudbloods." Hesitating, you faltered, struggling to put words together as he continued to search your expression. "I - I guess I had something to prove," You began, carefully, narrowing your eyes at Draco. His eyes were piercing, brow furrowed with his arms crossed across his chest. "Why do you care, anyway?" "I don't." He spoke, quick, cold. "It just seems idiotic." A spark of anger flickered in your chest, and you tensed your jaw, head shifting to the side ever so slightly. "I don't need your input on my choices, Malfoy." You spoke low, warning, his eyes lighting up as his lips pulled into a small sneer of amusement at your tone. "No, I'm intrigued," Draco pushed, a cruel look flushing over his features. "Tell me why you'd want to fight for the side that took your family away from you." "Shut up." The anger was simmering, breathing shallow as you stared at him. "You really want to save the people that carved up your arm? Fed you to Dementors?" That smirk was vile as it crawled upon his lips, eyes set on you as you struggled to keep your emotions at bay, tears now stinging your eyes. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." "Because as much as you try to, you're not going to get away from it." The grey in his eyes was cold, the smile falling, leaving him with a dead look that chilled you to the bone. "You're always going to be the daughter of two murderers." Ripping your wand out of your pocket, you flung a wordless spell towards him - he managed to react quickly, throwing himself out the way. The spell, instead, hit the wall, leaving the brick black and singed. Draco gaped, eyes wide, from you to the wall. "That could have killed me!" "You're pathetic." You spat, hot with fury. "You will never, never, understand what it's like to not have a choice." Something flickered in his eyes, and his features pulled in painfully tight. You faltered. You'd never seen him look so angry, except for perhaps the first time you'd seen him in the bathrooms. "You think I had a choice?" Draco hissed, eyes stormy as he glared at you. "You think I fucking wanted this? If I don't do this - my mother will die, I will die!" A terrible silence fell between you. Breathing shallow and heart hammering in your chest, you stared at him, horror settling in your chest. Draco seemed to be just as stunned, shoulders rising and falling harshly, rage still echoing in his now fallen expression. "Do what?" Your voice trembled as you spoke. His eyes darted away from you, before he became vacant again. "It's none of your business." He grumbled, stalking toward the door. "We're done for today." "Draco-" But he had already unlocked the door with the flick of his wand, and you came to stand in the doorway as he strode out the room, vanishing into the darkness of the corridor.

#draco x you #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #harry potter fanfiction #slow burn

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kirishwima · 5 years ago

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Heya! If it ain't too much trouble (if your inbox isn't too full) could I get headcanons about the RFA's (plus saeran, if you'd be willing to write for him too) reaction to a 17 y/o MC? Platonic headcanons of course ^^ Your content for mystic messenger is truly great from what I've read so far! Thanks a lot ❤

awe thank you, i really appreciate that! i honestly only have a couple more prompts in my inbox currently, so im grateful for any and all you send my way! (even if there were a lot i really enjoy writing them so i don’t mind at all~)

ZEN:

* He’s so shocked???

* being well, Zen, he immediatly tried flirting with the new person in the RFA, only to immediatly be told by Seven that they’re 17

* Immediatly assumes a Big Brother Role and loves it

* He’s always defending MC, and telling them to let him know if any of the other members make them nervous, calls them frequently and if they’re in high school, checks on them and reminds them to eat and take breaks between studying

* Honestly he’s always wanted to be a big brother so he loves it lol, and he’ll be especially protective of MC from Jumin, constantly telling them to never grow up to be like him

* Will absoloutely let MC call him and vent about whatever is troubling them-as someone who was as troubled as he was at 17, he wants to make MC’s final teenage years as happy as possible wherever he’s able to

* Will Absoloutely interrogate whoever MC decides to date and treat them like a protective father lmao

YOOSUNG:

* Equally shocked, he would never expect someone so young to have to take on the big job Rika once had!

* Honestly he doesn’t care much about MC’s age, although he does feel a little threatened at first-he used to be the baby of the RFA, and whilst he would constantly complain about it, he did like the attention it brought him

* When at some point MC asks him for any advice and thanks them for it, he does feel a sudden surge of pride-he’s an only child and never really interacted much with people younger than him

* He’s the youngest so he still remembers what being 17 was like, and how overwhelming things could be, especially if MC’s in school

* He’ll do his best to help MC study, even meeting up with them and tutoring them-if their marks improve after it or it helps them in any way, he’ll be so excited!

* Will also become really protective of MC, and might even argue with Zen over who MC’s big brother is (hint-it’s neither of you y’all are like, in your early 20s chill)

* Just overall happy to have another friend in the RFA really

JUMIN:

* He...doesn’t....care?

* He’s surprised that V allowed someone so young to just, live in Rika’s apartment and take over her job, but he doesn’t really question it. After all, when he was 17 he was already pretty much running the company alongside his father.

* He’s as cold and aloof as always, although he’s confused as to why Zen becomes so protective and even more furstrated with Jumin than usual. Has he said anything to offend MC in anyway?

* He eventually calls MC and asks if they’re finding everything in the RFA allright, or if they need any help, and after getting to talk with them, sees why the whole of the RFA has taken such a liking to them-MC reminds them all of who they once were at that age.

* It’s not like anything drastically changes in his behavior-he’s still thankful that MC is doing their new job properly, but he’s careful to not overwhelm them with tasks, and frequently will ask if they need any help. He also insists that they should return to their home as soon as possible so as to not worry their family or care giver.

* If MC is a student, he’ll offer to hire one of the best tutors for them, even if they don’t need it-he considers it only natural to receive as many educational opprotunities as possible

((No Jumin, not everyone has had tutors during their high shcool years. Yes it’s doable pls stop nagging Zen about it))

* Yeah, overall he’s just the same as always lmao

JAEHEE:

* She’s actually really concerned when she finds out MC is only 17. How did V ever think that it’s alright to put someone so young into a predicament like this?!

* Will frequently call MC and check in with them, see if everything’s all right, if they need anything e.t.c

* She just really wants them to be comfortable in the RFA-not only does she remember how hard it was for her to adjust after joining, she can’t imagine how hard it is to be thrown into this situation at this age. She genially wants MC to be happy

* Might come off as a bit of a mother hen at first-even the rest of the RFA tell her she doesn’t have to keep worrying over MC so much, after all they’ve proved they’re a responsible person and can take care of themselves

((Take care of-THEY’RE A BABY she screams to deaf ears))

* She does however, realise that everyone else is right-MC is diligently doing their job, and seem to have their shit together. That however doesn’t stop her from watching over MC regardless.

* If MC tells her that they look up to her like a big sister, she’ll smile the softest little smile, happy that MC feels like they’re family

* after all, that’s what she too secretly hoped to receive from the RFA-the family she never had.

SEVEN:

* Obviously, with a quick search he found out MC’s age

* He’s concerned, yeah, but he’s also never really had a normal childhood ((understatement of the century)) and can’t really be certain wether it’s normal for MC to be in the situation they are at this age or not

* More or less he treats them exactly the same-he’s as concerned as he’d be for an MC of any other age really

* He does however constantly tease them about their age-he’ll say something along the lines of ‘back in MY day’ or ‘when i was your age...’ at least once per each chatroom lmao

* When/If he comes to Rika’s apartment to protect MC, he’ll be distant at first, but not as much as he’d be with an adult MC-he remembers what it’s like to be alone at that age, remembers how much he despised it-he can’t help but be a little more lenient with them. He’ll still try to push them away, alert them of the dangers of associating with him, but he’ll also constantly hover over MC, have them tell him about their troubles, making sure they eat e.t.c.

* P much just acting like an annoying big brother lmao

V/JIHYUN:

* As soon as he found out that MC’s only 17, he became insanely concerned.

* What was Rika thinking?! Why would they put such a young person in such danger?!

* He’s so worried, he can’t help but frequently log in to the messenger and call MC to make sure they’re alright and as safe as they can be.

* He’s taken care of Saeran and Saeyoung as young teens, so he’s probably the one to treat MC the most normally than any of the other RFA members. He’s patient and sweet with them, treating them like a mature person but also mindful of their age at the same time

* He finds it sweet how the rest of the RFA cares so much about MC-it brings him peace to know that no matter what, RFA will have their back.

* If they’re a student he’ll also try and help them study, mainly with more theoretical subjects like history, art e.t.c. He’s also frequently reminding them to take breaks and rest, that their mental and physical health will always be more important than schoolwork.

* Would honestly feel more like a doting dad than a big brother, he’s pretty much a perfect parental figure lmao

SAERAN:

* Of course he knew MC was 17, since he’s the one that brought them into the RFA in the first place

* Their age didn’t really have anything to do with why he chose them; he just did as he savior told him to and chose the person most suitable for the job

* He’s reminded of MC’s age through the little things-monitoring the RFA chatrooms and seeing how the members treat MC, how they’ll frequently talk about their schoolwork or daily life matters, little things that kept piling up in Saeran’s consiousness

* When he’s finally free from Rika’s grip and has a clearer view on things, guilt eats him up from the inside out at the fact that he put a person this young through such an ordeal-it’d be bad enough for anyone, but a person who’s not even an adult?!

* He’s reminded of the horrors he went through when he was young, the mess he’d been in when he was 17-it makes his stomach churn, to think he’s put another person through such horrors

* It’ll take a lot from MC to not only forgive him, but also help him understand it’s not his fault-he was genially not in control during those times, and his guilt proves that.

* He’ll try and avoid MC at first, but if they keep pushing, he’ll eventually open up and befriend them.

* He’s genially happy to see MC forgive and slowly forget about the whole Mint Eye ordeal, to slowly return to their everyday life, almost as if he’s seeing what he’s missed out during that age through them; it brings a bittwersweet feeling to his chest, to see what could’ve been.

* He’s not really a big-brother type-but he is a fiercly loyal friend, and he’ll be there for MC through thick and thin, and god have mercy on whoever dares try and hurt MC-hell hath no fury like an angry Saeran.

I’m sorry these were quite short, i really couldn’t think of much else T-T regardless of MC’s age, the whole RFA gang would care for them as a friend and family!

-Send me headcanons/scenarios for mystic messenger characters’ reactions!-

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hermannsthumb · 5 years ago

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number 17 from those winter prompts!!

17. i get your name during secret santa at work and use the same wrapping paper for my gift to my friend, so…sorry about all the sex toys

from winter writing prompts here

this one is so fucking good but i will admit i am having so much trouble deciding what friends newt has besides hermann LMAO. references to like, not sfw stuff (expected given subj matter) but nothing actually explicit. also yes im filling this a literal year later

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

Contrary to what literally everyone in the Shatterdome might assume, Newt actually really likes picking out presents for Hermann. He might even say it’s easy. Why shouldn’t it be? He and Hermann spend all of their waking hours together. They know every last sordid detail about each other. They can predict the course of arguments and form rebuttals before the other’s even paused to take a breath. Shit--they even finish each other’s sentences at this point.

It’s one of the reasons he’s goddamn thrilled when he picks Hermann’s name for the base gift exchange, the other reason being that now he has one fewer gift to buy, because he was already planning on giving Hermann something in the first place. He’s already bought it, even. It’s two birds with one gift-wrapped stone.

In August, Hermann ruined his favorite nice wool sweater when--turning in a bit of a hurry, in order to properly call Newt an idiot for some stupid question he asked--he caught a single loose thread of yarn on the metal ledge of his chalkboard and ripped a somewhat gaping hole in it. Newt knew he was especially upset about it from his reaction. Instead of shouting, or cursing, or somehow blaming Newt like he’d usually do, he just looked at the hole very sadly and said (just as sadly) “Oh.” In September, after a month of Hermann wearing the badly-patched and ever-fraying thing around anyway (and then finally chucking it), Newt finally managed to track down the same one online. Albeit it with a hefty overseas shipping fee. In November, the new finally arrived.

In December, Newt wraps it up in glittery tissue paper and sticks it in a small snowflake-studded gift bag, along with a few packages of Hermann’s favorite weird English digestives (also shipped overseas), a tin of his favorite shitty instant coffee, and a box of rainbow chalk tossed in for good measure. Hermann’s fun to shop for, so sue him. His tastes are simple and he’s grateful for anything. Newt bought him a heated blanket last year, and when he opened it, he looked like he was about to cry.

He places two tissue-wrapped dildos (one a large tentacle, the other bumpy and neon pink) and a high-quality vibrator in a second glittery snowflake gift bag and pushes that one far away from the other. That one is decidedly not for Hermann.

Hermann’s tastes are simple, but he far prefers practical gifts over personal ones, to the extent that Newt’s tiny splurge with the cookies is pushing it a little. If he ever tried to give Hermann something like a vibrator (though the guy could fucking use it, he’s tenser than a piano wire), Hermann would probably either malfunction or murder Newt on the spot. Tendo, on the other hand (the only other person Newt does holiday shopping for, barring the cards he sends his dad and old bandmates), prefers neither practical nor personal gifts, but instead the weirdest, most useless things that anyone can think of. He and Newt have been swapping accordingly (ugly Hawaiian shirts, weird booze, antique shop finds, etc.) at the past three Shatterdome holiday parties. This year Newt’s going with sex toys. Naturally. If he’s lucky, Tendo will just give them right back, and then Newt’s three sex toys richer.

Newt’s not very lucky.

He’s several spiked eggnogs into the party when he decides it’s a great idea to hand off his gifts. Tendo’s is first, though Newt doesn’t stick around for him to open it, and instead staggers off to find Hermann lurking in the corner wearing a tasteful Hanukkah sweater. He frowns when he sees Newt. At least Newt presumes he frowns because he sees Newt; he could’ve just already been frowning, which seems like a very Hermann thing to do at a party where no less than three different versions of Jingle Bell Rock have come on the overhead speakers. “Oh,” he says. “I was wondering where you were, Newton.”

“Don’t sound too excited to see me,” Newt says. He thrusts the snowflake bag out at Hermann. “Happy Hanukkah, dude! And New Year’s too, I guess. I picked your name.”

Hermann breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, good,” he says. “Last year was a nightmare--they bought me a bloody necktie. When have I ever worn a necktie? Hold this, will you?”

He swaps his plastic cup out for the bag, balances it with one hand on the head of his cane, and rips out the tissue paper.

Then he pauses.

“I know,” Newt says, grinning and taking Hermann’s silence for the sheer overwhelming joy he’s no doubt feeling. Another successful year. Ten points to Newt. “Hey, try it on now, I wanna make sure it fits okay--I wasn’t really sure what size to get.”

“Size?” Hermann echoes in a small voice. His glasses are slipping down his nose. Then, in almost a squeak-- “You want me to try it now?”

“I mean, only if you want,” Newt says. He reaches out and pokes Hermann’s chest. Hermann sways on his feet, like he’s suddenly forgotten how to stand. “You’re a fucking twig, man, but you get everything so big.” He’s swimming in the sweater he’s wearing now, even. “Anyway, I know you ruined the other one—”

“You do?” Hermann says.

“Uh, yeah?” Newt says, because he was literally there. Hermann is giving him the weirdest fucking look of all time. Newt loses the grin. “It’s just a sweater, man, what are you…?”

Newt looks down into the bag. He doesn’t see a sweater: he sees an assortment of sex toys.

He must’ve switched the gift tags.

“Oh, fuck,” he says. “Hermann, that’s--those--”

But Hermann cuts him off with a small cough. His cheeks are bright pink. “I know what they are, thank you, Newton,” he says. He coughs again. “I suppose I did...need another. Not the--I mean--” He flicks the spot of the bag the vibe is in. It’s Newt’s turn to let out a small squeak. “Only I didn’t realize I’d apparently been acting quite so--in need of one.”

Okay. Unexpected turn. Hermann likes getting giant bags of sex toys. Hermann...needed new ones? Hermann uses them in the first place? Newt doesn’t spend long periods of time daydreaming about what Hermann does in his alone time or anything like that, of course, but he always struck Newt as a very...old-fashioned type. “Oh,” Newt says. He shakes himself. He can play this off--keep it cool. “I mean, yeah. Ha! What are lab partners for? Gotta keep you, uh, relaxed, so you can focus.”

“Yes,” Hermann says slowly. His blush spreads to his ears, so bright that it’s obvious even in the poor lighting. “Newton--when you asked if I wanted to try it--was that an, ah, an invitation, or…?”

“Oh,” Newt says again.

Hermann reaches out, very carefully, and touches Newt’s arm.

“You know what?” Newt says, suddenly feeling very warm under his collar. “Yep, it totally was. Let’s do that now.”

They pass by Tendo on their (very quick) way out, who is holding up the sweater meant for Hermann and looking extremely bewildered. Newton purposely avoids catching his eye. “Oh,” Hermann says, “I used to have one just like that.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Newt agrees.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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borhapparker · 5 years ago

Text

burning hearts | firefighter!ben hardy x firefighter f!reader

summary: stumbling across a burning building, you come face to face with a very good looking firefighter, who not only takes your breath away, but manages to save you after a wannabe-hero stunt goes wrong.

a/n: the ending is sucky,, im so sorry,, but enjoy nonetheless!

masterlist | send me fic prompts/ideas

‘Well, there goes an hour I will never get back’ you think to yourself as you walk out the restaurant, the coldness enveloping you as you adjust your jacket around you.

The date that your friend had set you up with could’ve gone better, seeing as the guy never showed up. She had told you that he was a good guy, someone she used to like and was never late.

‘A gym freak too, c’mon Y/n, you’ll love him!’ she had said.

You pulled your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, opening up the messages with your friend before texting her four words you had engraved in your brain over the hour-wait. I told you so.

As you walked towards the direction of your house, you heard screaming, and.. a smell. A distinct odor wafted in your direction as you looked up, noticing people running towards something. Your curiosity got the better of you as you slipped your phone in your pocket, heading over in the direction you saw people running to.

Your eyes widened at the sight, the sudden warmth enveloping you as you gasped audibly. A fire had consumed most of the third and fourth floor of an apartment complex, as you looked around, noticing people pointing and on the phone. In the distance, you heard the sirens of a fire truck as you quickly ran across, asessing the damage the fire had done to the building.

In your mind, you knew what to do already. You had been prepared for this kind of thing, seeing as it has been your job for the past three years. The only reason you were in LA was for a transfer that was supposed to happen in two days, but seemed like destiny wanted it to happen tonight.

“Does anyone have a rag and a water bottle?” you asked around as everyone shook their heads, some too preoccupied to pay you any attention. The sirens were louder now, as you heard the screech of wheels before turning around, and spotting the firefighters quickly getting out of their truck, one grabbing the hose and another slipping on a mask. They turned to their captain, as you eyed one of the masks on the side of the engine, before running over and grabbing it.

“Hey! What are you-” you tuned out their voices as you slipped off your purse and slipped the mask over your face.

Without another word, you ran into the building, the screaming intensifying as the crowd watched you run into the burning building. Taking deep breaths, you ran up the stairs, before reaching a closed door. Hovering your hand over the knob to determine the level of the fire, you realized it was cold, as you gripped it and swung the door open, the smoke engulfing your line of vision. You moved quickly, running down the hall as you helped people to the door, instructing them to run downstairs and outside as quickly as possible.

A young woman, in her early twenties, had a rag placed over the head of her child as she almost fell running to the door, as you grabbed her arm and helped her. Someone took your place as you turned, noticing the familiar uniform of the captain.

“What are you doing? Get out of here!” he screamed at you as you shook your head, determination coursing through your veins as you helped them get the civilians out of the building.

A young boy shielded his eyes from the smoke, screaming out for his mom as you ran over to him, unstrapping the mask from your face before slipping it over his and pointing to the door. With the material of your blouse, you covered your mouth and nose, before helping them with the rest of civilians. The barks of a dog were heard in the distance as you ran, kicking down the door of an apartment as a puppy was hunched over on the other side. Your instincts kicked in, your arms wrapping around the body of the puppy before taking off int he opposite direction, holding the puppy close to your body as you ran downstairs and outside, the fire being contained by the firefighters.

Placing the puppy down, you took off again, helping everyone else as a mother turned to you, eyes wide in fear and tears streaming down her face. Her arms clutched yours as you turned to her.

“My daughter! She’s upstairs in her room! She’s deaf, and didn’t hear the alarm go off! Please help her!” you nodded as she told you the apartment number, “56B.”

Taking off up the stairs, you took two at a time, before covering your nose and mouth again. Looking at the placards on the doors, you got closer, as the smoke burned your eyes and blocked your vision.

49A, 50A, 51B, 52A, 52B, 53A, 54B, 55A, 55B, 56B

Heading to the door, you quickly kicked it down, noticing a little girl hunched over on the floor, covered in soot as you quickly tapped her. She looked up, coughing vigorously as you instructed her to cover her mouth and nose before you pushed her out the door and she ran.

Running around the apartment, you looked at the other rooms, making sure there was no one there as you started coughing.

The smoke had gotten into your lungs as you struggled to breathe, your brain going into autopilot as you tried to get out as quick as possible. Suddenly, a piece of wood from the ceiling came falling down as it blocked your exit. Your eyes widened in fear as you covered your mouth and coughed again.

It seemed like there was no way out, before you heard yelling.

LAFD! Is there anyone here?

You turned to the sound of the voice over the crackling of fire as you uncovered your mouth and screamed as loud as you could. Footsteps got closer as it got harder to breathe and you dropped to your knees.

At the entrance of the apartment, blue eyes scanned the perimeter, before he made his way inside, ax in hand and his partner behind him. Turning, he followed his instincts, his partner heading in the opposite direction and taking the ax with him.

His eyes scanned the room, before noticing a spot of color on the ground, a piece of wood in the way of him. Craning his neck, he noticed you, the girl who had stolen their mask, struggling to breathe as he called out to his partner.

“One more!”

His partner brought the ax down onto the piece of wood as it broke, before he made his way over, quickly picking you up in his arms and pressing your face against his jacket. He ran out of the apartment, his partner close behind as he headed to the stairwell, and outside.

His feet took him straight to the paramedics outside, as he placed her down in the ambulance, a nurse heading to her straight away and placing an oxygen mask over her mouth.

He slipped off his mask and coughed, as another gave him a mask, breathing in the clean air into his lungs. His blue eyes scanned her, looking for anything that might indicate she was hurt as his gaze found nothing before he neared her. His footsteps alerted her as she looked up, hand on the mask against her mouth as she slightly smiled at him.

Pulling the mask from her face, she tried to speak as she coughed before placing it over her mouth and breathing in. “Thank you,” her voice came out muffled as he nodded in return.

His captain walked over, concern etched on his features as he looked at her with anger and confusion. “What the hell was that and who are you?”

She placed a finger up, as they waited for her. She breathed in and out before taking the mask off. “Are you Captain Lee?” she asked as he nodded, “Y/n Y/l/n, at your service.”

“You’re the firefighter who’s supposed to join us in two days?” he asked, as she nodded, placing the mask over her mouth once more. “Well, that was a hell of an introduction.”

Nodding, you kept breathing the clean oxygen as the firefighter by your side did the same.

“Y/n, you won’t be coming in till next week and that’s an order.” Captain Lee said as you nodded in confirmation, turning to the blue-eyed firefighter who had rescued you. “Oh, this is Ben Hardy. He’s part of the crew.”

He stuck his hand out as you shook it, smiling and nodding. “Thank you,” you coughed out as he smiled.

Both of you let go, as you sat down on the edge of the ambulance, Ben taking a seat next to you. He looked at you, as you leaned on his shoulder, the adrenaline spike dying down as your eyes slowly started to close. His arm went over your head and around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him as you absorbed the warmth his body was producing, all while inhaling clean oxygen, trying to get your lungs to work again.

Ben felt grateful to get the chance to hold an angel, even if said angel was covered in soot and trying to get her lungs to work again. He enjoyed the feeling of another body close to his, given as to how long he had been deprived of said feeing. Being a firefighter was never easy, knowing his job was dangerous and life-threatening was another reason he never gave himself time to enjoy the little things.

But with you in his arms, he pushed away those thoughts and let himself live for just a couple more minutes.

The team managed to soothe the flames, sparks of the fire slowly turning to embers as the water calmed the chaos. Yet, the burning in your heart remained, as long as Ben was by your side.

Fire has always been seen as something dangerous, risky, and sometimes even fueled to kill. Yet, fire also symbolized the energy given to someone courageously stepping towards transformation. Transformation, wether good or bad, can mean change.

And who knows, maybe change may be a good thing.

tags:

@supernaturalee @bens-hardy @spidergirlwanab @benhardyisdaddy @bennyblueberry @borhap-socials @bohemian-blasphomy @gwilymz @gwilyoubemine @borhap-professorsau @queenmercurys @queens-n-roses @queen-irl-af @queenscoolcat @alwaysbenhardysgirl @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @hardyzello @hardyscult

#skye's writing #ben hardy #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy prompts #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy x you #firefighter!au #firefighter!ben hardy #firefighter!reader

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gonecherry · 5 years ago

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write short descriptions of your favourite mutuals/friends and then tag them (but not next to their descriptions) and try to make them guess which one is theirs!

this was literally put in my inbox a year ago? two years ago? but i’ve never had mutuals that i felt i was close with :( however, i feel as if i’ve grown so close with some of you!! and i love these tags so much. so thank you to whoever sent this in if you even still follow me. ur an angel.

m u t u a l descriptions:

i’ve probably know you for the longest out of all of my mutuals, so i feel that we’re the closest. i constantly tell you that you’re my angel! and my baby! because you are. but also i remember being so scared to message you, so i would just occasionally send you asks to check on you and make sure you knew that you deserved the world. in many ways, you’re like my older sister who is always looking out for me, and i want to always be here for you too. you’re the doyoung to my jeno, the jaehyun to my johnny. me, you, and jungwoo are the only angels on this earth: confirmed. i love you so much! and i appreciate your support and affection beyond words.

much like the last mutual was my older sister, you are my younger sister. i’m used to being the oldest in my friend group, and i can find that with you. i feel comfortable enough to act childish and joke around with you. i’ll always be here to help you with anything! whether it’s for college or just for fun!! we can move to france and open a cat cafe together honestly. that sounds so nice. i love when you send me little prompts that i can write. i love being able to talk and connect with you! i’m sorry i’ve been so busy lately, but i promise i’m always trying to make time for you. i love u, angel!

literally the first time i ever talked to you, i couldn’t stop smiling and blushing. you’re so charismatic and adorable. it’s really hard not to smile at every message you send me. you make me feel very well taken care of :( you have always made sure that i’m okay even though we haven’t known each other for too long. i look up to you for so many reasons. you’re so funny and CUTe, oh my GOD. and you always compliment me when you look like an absolutely goddess. imagine being that gorgeous. couldn’t be me. you mean the world to me, and i can’t wait to see our friendship develop and get closer to you :( i lowkey had a small internet crush on you when we first started talking, but i wasn’t used to so much affection and genuine encouragement! thank you for always making me smile. im love u so much, babie!

hello!! omg!! we haven’t had to opportunity to talk much, but i feel that all of my conversations with you have been meaningful. you always stop by every week or every other week to make sure that i’m okay, and i appreciate this beyond words. your cute asks and submissions NEVER bother me. they always make me smile and laugh. they make me feel appreciated. i know i can sometimes awkward or dry sounding, but i hope you know i always have good intentions. i hope you know that i love seeing you on my dash. your tags?? constantly make me laugh. you’re an icon, and i love you!!

i think we might have only talked once or twice? but i love your posts. you’re always so positive and reblogging encouraging messages, which help me a lot personally. i always find myself visiting my blog to make sure you’re doing well! i’m sure i annoy you by tagging you in so many tag games, but i appreciate you so much! i hope we can talk and connect more in the future. you really do deserve the world, and i hope you’re doing well!

hello you literally just sent me anon, so this a little obvious, but it’s what inspired me to start this tag. i know you haven’t been active for a little bit, but i miss your posts! i love your tags! they make me laugh and smile! you’re so adorable and sweet :( feel free to message me if you ever want to talk or if you need something!

and to everyone that follows me: i hope you know that i adore every last one of you. seeing your posts is something i enjoy doing every day. i read all of your tags, and i even think you of when i see a post i think you’d like. i’m always here if you ever, ever need anything! i’ll always be here to support you. i’m grateful for the love you give me! even if i do post a million times a day and then go silent for three days. im love u.

m u t u a l s:

@jajajajaemin @bunny-doyounq @koda-jayy @ciielclaiir @hyucafe @jaehyunsies and the rest of my followers!

#you're all my angels #and i love u so much #please don't forget it #harley speaks #thank u for asking this anon #and i'm sorry it took so long #mutuals

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foolgobi65 · 6 years ago

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Ah do Krishna and Bhishma in Hogwarts

this is so late i cant even say anything im so sorry but still i hope u like it!! i really enjoyed writing for it and surprisingly enjoy writing these two together more than i expected – i always make bhishma nicer and better than he is in canon but i also truly think that krishna brings out the best in him. thank you for the prompt!! please send more since i def have more time now that it is summer

Bhishma does not watch the trial – like most of the Wizarding World, he listens to it broadcast on the radio, barred from the Wizengamot by his vow to pass the family seat through the blood of Satyavati. Bhishma does not watch when the boy Krishna is brought into court in chains and at the wandpoint of five aurors, does not watch when Kamsa stands from his seat at the head and accuses a child of treason, of exposing magic to muggles, of genocide secondhand – for that of course is what the Magical World apparently has to fear from their muggle counterparts.

“I disagree, Uncle.”

As one, the Wizarding World gasps. It is Him, then, this boy Krishna. The Chosen One, the fulfillment of a 20 year old prophecy that keeps Kamsa’s sister Devaki and her husband Vasudev falsely imprisoned to this day. It is Krishna who, 15 years ago, had the audacity to be born even inside the pit of human despair, whose disappearance from inside Azkaban had hastened the death of Wizarding democracy in the guise of Kamsa’s Emergency.

“You admit that you are their son?” Kamsa for once speaks for the entirety of Wizarding Britain. It is the question every person wants to ask, after years of Kamsa’s iron fist slowly strangling Magical Britain’s throat in pursuit of his predestined killer. “You admit that you want to kill me, the Minister for Magic.” Bhishma scoffs at the way Kamsa, claims democratic legitimacy even as a dictator.

There is a sigh that travels through the radio, deep and long, one that seems more suited for a man of Bhishma’s years and experience than Krishna’s sixteen. The whole of Magical Britain pauses for breath.

“I do,” Krishna says, voice calm at what every listener knows clearly to be a death sentence. “I am.”

Kamsa’s voice shifts to a register of glee. “This is treason!” No assembly could be complete without Kamsa’s favorite word. The punishment for actions against the Minister have grown more and more stringent in the last decade in wait for this moment, where Kamsa has set enough precedent to order an immediate execution. Neither Bhishma’s power nor his vows allow him to breach the doors of the Wizengamot. After all this time the Emergency will end like this, he thinks in sudden, overwhelming despair: the body of Devaki’s son cold on the ground, his death broadcast throughout Kamsa’s new kingdom.

But then, incredibly, over the radio Krishna begin to laugh – the sound grates against the tautness of Bhishma’s nerves for all that it is full of joy, of reckless abandon. It is only later that Bhishma will realize that the discomfort he felt at that moment was not discomfort at all – hope had been lost so long that he had forgotten what it felt like, swelling inside his chest, burning inside of his veins.

“You are untrained,” Bhishma hears Kamsa sneer, the last of Krishna’s laughter still echoing against the Wizengamot stone, “you are untrained, and with magic so low that you were not deemed worthy of a Hogwarts education. You cannot kill me.”

A gasp. “The chains,” someone shouts, “they’re gone!”

Members of the Wizengamot are not allowed their wands in session, and while Kamsa and his aurors are almost certainly armed, there is none amongst them that would banish the boy’s chains. Krishna has no wand, and what Kamsa said was true – a boy untrained, with so little magic that Hogwarts records did not deem him worthy of an invitation, could not have banished his chains.

And yet.

“You’re right,” Bhishma hears amidst the uproar, and then in the silence that follows he hears a slight rustle, the sound gentle enough that it could only be clothing shifting against skin.

“I am untrained,” Krishna says, tone as easy with this fact as if he were listing the color of his hair.

There is a click, and then Bhishma hears an explosion.

“And yet, Uncle,” Krishna says before the shock fades and the screams begin, “you are dead all the same.”

There is a great furor in the aftermath of Kamsa’s assassination: the Wizarding World is unprepared for the death of its benign dictator, only more so when faced with its cause.

“I will take him,” Bhishma announces, blowing open the doors and standing carefully outside the Chamber. “The boy Krishna.” He blinks as members of the Wizengamot move so that Bhishma can have a clear view of the proceedings inside. Krishna, who he assumed would have been hurried out of the room instead sits cooly on the ground, hands busy with some sort of contraption. Bhishma does not speak of his brief childhood amongst Muggles, but he remembers something much larger, something that could not have been concealed under clothes.

“It is a gun,” the boy confirms, face blank as he refuses to meet the Wizengamot’s gaze. Kamsa’s bloody body cools on the ground only a few meters away. “Father purchased it after my uncle sent the Grindylows four years ago.”

Bhishma clenches his jaw. Kamsa’s obsession was renowned, but every new example of its consequences is cause for disgust– under the Emergency all dissent has been quelled as Kamsa combed both Magical and apparently Muggle Britain for those who stepped out of line, in seeming solidarity with Devaki’s mythic son.

Today’s trial had been triggered by a dementor attack on a Muggle hamlet, repelled, Kamsa claimed, without his official sanction by a sixteen-year-old boy without enough magic for a Hogwarts invitation. Or at least, that is what they had assumed.

“How did you repel them?” Bhishma hears from a member somewhere in the gaggle ahead. Whether they mean the grindylows or the dementors he does not know.

Krishna stands, neatly slipping the gun into his waistband. A moment passes where he gazes at the crowd in front of him, the most powerful of the British Wizarding population, people who together decide the present, who bend the arc of the future. Each person, later, will claim that in that moment Krishna was looking only at them, was laying bare their personal ambition, their excess, their very essence.

Bhishma standing tall behind the Wizengamot threshold feels small as he has not in more than a hundred years, suddenly a child once more clutching at his mother’s fingers inside the halls of the Kuru family home, waiting to be claimed by a father he had never known.

“He is one of you,” Ganga had told Shantanu, “so you must keep him safe.”

Bhishma locks eyes with Krishna and nods – he is not Shantanu, has no ties of blood, but the boy will be safe all the same. Krishna exhales, closes his eyes, brings his hands forward, and pulls.

The room gasps together as swirling spikes rise from the stone. Everyone is frozen at the sight, eyes glued to the floor Krishna mutates in perfectly deadly concentric circles. He has no wand.

“By Merlin,” someone whispers, the tones are familiar enough that Bhishma’s believes it to be Vyasa, court witness and the first son of Bhishma’s venerable stepmother, Lady Satyavati herself. The muttered oath is more accurate than he thinks he means. Bhishma swallows at a display of raw talent the types of which he had assumed no longer existed.

Krishna opens his eyes. As one, the Wizengamot steps back – only Bhishma tries to step forward, catching himself only at the end when his toes threaten to cross his self imposed boundary. A small, wry smile graces Krishna’s lips.

“Hogwarts it is, I suppose.”

The decision to release Vasudev and Devaki are released even before Kamsa’s body is taken away – that is an easy decision after all, taken by people racked with guilt at the plight of two individuals without even a magical core to sustain them locked in Azkaban for almost half their lifetimes. Vasudev, only son of the late Surasena whose family sat on the Wizengamot for generations, is a squib. Even worse is Devaki, half sister of the half-blood Kamsa, the first Muggle to know the eternal chill of the dementors outside her cell. That they even live should be considered extraordinary. That they managed to produce a child, that said child could grow despite it’s magicless mother’s physical malnourishment and mental torment, that the child was born and lived and left: this is what even the Magical World can only consider a miracle.

And yet, there is not a wizard alive who would consider the pair after such an ordeal fit guardians for any magical child, much less one of Krishna’s apparent abilities. Bhishma is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and so any child of school-attending age comes under his jurisdiction. Bhishma also remains the Grand-sire of the Kurus, who now count Surasena’s daughter Pritha one of their own. His great-grand nephews may lawfully call Krishna Vaasudev “cousin,” and when Bhishma looks to the other families who might claim the same connection, Damagosha and Vridhasharman avert their eyes.

“A vow,” Vyasa calls out, shedding the guise of humble stenographer at this time of crisis. “I want you all to swear an Unbreakable Vow that you will never reveal what you just saw.” He glances at Bhishma, still standing outside of the room, and looks away, biting her lip in an now uncharacteristic show of emotion. He turns to Krishna.

Krishna shrugs, closing his eyes once more and pushes at the air above the floor. The spikes smooth, leaving the ground as it was before.

“It is May,” Bhishma says into the silence, as they all try to envision the shape of this new world. “I will take Krishna until September, when he will be enrolled as a fifth year at Hogwarts.”

The Wizengamot, unruly and contentious even at the best of times, assents.

The Kuru family home was once the pride of Wizarding Britain, teeming constantly with life and activity and culture. When Krishna, having been instructed in Floo usage, tumbles out of the Great Fireplace, it is almost like that again. The entire family, from Dhritarashtra to Kunti’s Sahadeva is gathered, voices echoing off of the famed ceiling Hogwarts’ Great Hall is said to have been based on. Bhishma clears his throat, and as one, they turn.

It has been years since Bhishma has been able to command the room like this, at least outside family feasts – but even those slowly dwindled as the children came and left Hogwarts. He would not claim enjoyment in this moment, but perhaps deep down there is something of satisfaction.

“This is Krishna,” he calls out, though from the looks on his family’s faces this is something they already know. “He will be staying with us for the summer from now on.”

“Actually,” Krishna says from behind Bhishma, “I have to go home.”

Bhishma turns on his heel. “What do you mean you need to go home?” It is a tone of voice that has quelled even Duryodhana at his most irascible, and yet Krishna only raises a brow. Bhishma presses on, ever aware of the studied stillness of his family behind, all trying to pretend that they are not in the room. “Do you even know what you have done? Kamsa had the backing of powerful men, crafted an auror force almost slavishly devoted to his every word. Do you think they won’t try to kill you if you set foot outside our door?”

Again, in the face of danger, Krishna only laughs. “My parents, Nanda and Yashoda, are Muggle. My entire village is. If I am in danger, then what are they, who have no knowledge of this world, no power to protect them from retribution.” Krishna purses his lips. “If you mean for me to live in this world can you guarantee me their safety, their well being, and their happiness until the day they die of natural causes?”

Bhishma cannot. “What will you do?”

Krishna swallows, looking uncertain, even lost for what Bhishma believes to be the first time since he set was dragged into his trial. “Mother does not understand, she never has. Everytime Kamsa sent another monster, she demanded we move, as if every place we lived in was cursed instead of it being me. I tried to tell her when they came, but she only cried and begged for me to leave it all and come home. The memories will haunt her, when I don’t.”

Bhishma, whose mother left him on Shantanu’s doorstep and told him to never look back, who still remembers her every day since, feels a wash of sympathy for what Krishna must do.

“Only them?” Bhishma does not question if Krishna knows how to erase his parents’ past – for one, memory erasure outside of Ministry authority is one of the High Crimes even in times of peace. Yet, to work with the Ministry in this case would only put those poor Muggles at risk. It is the nature of the Wizarding World, he knows, to forget inconvenient parts of people’s past: Bhishma who was once the half-blooded Devavrata now stands the venerable head of the Kuru clan. With his birth parents still alive, no one will question who raised Krishna Vaasudev. Bhishma will go to the Ministry himself and make sure the relevant documents are destroyed.

“And a girl as well,” Krishna says, lips turning of their own accord into something of a wistful, longing smile. “I asked her to come with me, but she refused.” Bhishma, whose easiest pledge was the one in which he forswore a wife, in that moment can only feel a voyeur.

His voice, when he speaks, is gruff. “You will be back in September?”

“Before that, even, if I can,” Krishna says, nodding at the silent Kauravas still gathered motionless in the Kuru Great Hall. “I look forward to meeting you all in the future.” His smile slips into something just slightly sad. “It will be nice to still have a family when I return.”

For a single moment, Bhishma feels fear when Krishna is sorted into Slytherin. It is the house Kamsa had been sorted into, a half-blood almost dripping with charisma and eager to climb as high as the ladders would take him – and then to construct further rungs where they stopped. Is this to be the fate of the Wizarding World, to only exchange one tyrant for another?

It is a moment that shames him, he who is supposed to look at the four houses with only benign indifference. Yet he is not the only one who seems wary, a strained type of silence seeming to follow the boy whenever he enters the Great Hall at mealtimes, which is all Bhishma sees of his students at school. For weeks, everyone waits for the knut to drop, for Krishna to bend rooms to his will and gather supporters at his feet.

A month passes, and Krishna Vaasudev continues to eat alone. Every once in a while one of Drona’s Hufflepuffs tries to catch his eye when he enters, her face falling when she is ignored time and time again.

“Subhadra,” Drona mumbles, “Second year Muggle-born.” He frowns “No,” he says, seemingly in anticipation of Bhishma’s next question. “I don’t know why.”

Another fortnight, and Bhishma has almost convinced himself that what he saw before was an illusion, or perhaps a stroke of fate that overtook the young Krishna’s body. Perhaps the Chosen, when their prophecies are fulfilled, become one with the rest – what Bhishma recalls of Krishna’s smile, his triumphant laughter, has faded with Kamsa’s influence over Magical Britain. He thinks this, and then he stumbles upon Krishna laughing like Bhishma remembered with someone in an abandoned classroom.

“Grandsire!” Krishna’s companion rises and Bhishma is shocked to his core to recognized Arjuna, famously private, and almost notoriously sullen bounding to Bhishma with a smile Bhishma has not seen in years. Each of his great-grandchildren have made their peace with knowing that Bhishma at Hogwarts cannot be the Grandsire from their homes, but Arjuna, in particular, has always been scrupulous about maintaining the distance between student and teacher, Great-grandfather and favorite son. Bhishma in his surprise, and in something of a slight longing for affection from his favorite, allows himself an embrace.

“Arjuna,” Bhishma smiles, helpless at the sight of Arjuna’s grin, no matter the cause. “What are you doing here?” It is not a warning, or even truly a complaint – the pair is not out of bounds or our after hours, but it is curious to find Arjuna outside of his room when not in class, stranger still to see him in the company of someone not his brothers. It is almost extraordinary to know that Arjuna has been laughing.

Arjuna’s face smoothes into something that Bhishma struggles to name, until he realizes it is something like contentment, so alien to the character of his Arjuna, always taut with one anxiety or another.

“Krishna is teaching me how to cast a patronus.”

Bhishma raises an eyebrow, looking past Arjuna to the other boy who has risen but stands, ankles crossed, leaning against the wall in what must be carefully constructed insolence.

“A patronus is complex magic,” he hears himself say, and it is. But Krishna Vaasudev was brought to the Wizengamot for warding off the dementors, and he had never answered the Wizengamot’s question that first day. Krishna smiles, bypassing the question implied.

“Ask the Headmaster, I’m sure his answer will be the same as mine.”

Bhishma raises another eyebrow. “I can’t cast a corporeal patronus,” Arjuna says, his wry smile so different from his carefully controlled frustration when faced with an obstacle he cannot overcome through single-minded practice. “Krishna thinks it’s because my memory is too weak.”

Bhishma frowns. Normally, especially with children so young, he would attribute this to a lack of control over one’s magical core. But Arjuna has trained so long that he remains in school as a matter of formality, his control over his power already a thing approaching legend.

“I would agree,” Bhishma admits, “if only because I have seen you accomplish more complex spells with less training.”

Arjuna snorts, turning towards Krishna so that Bhishma, his headmaster, his beloved Grandsire can only see his back. “Like you said, I am an utterly miserable individual.”

Bhishma stiffens in anticipation: when Arjuna was only a child of prodigious talent and surprising will, his anger would fill the room. It is something that takes time and talent to decipher, but his magical aura so used to the weight of Arjuna’s iron control seems to seep into the air around him, swelling until the rooms feel like they are made of rainclouds, each on the verge of bursting. Arjuna, who is always so careful with his anger and measured with his words, has not spoken like this since he received his Hogwarts letter.

Krishna only rolls his eyes. “Is this what you’re like with all your friends? Besides, you seemed quite happy a few moments ago.”

When Bhishma concentrates, Arjuna’s aura is the same as it was before. His mind strays to Krishna’s words – does Arjuna have friends? Arjuna has brothers, cousins, and perhaps he even has Drona’s son Ashwathama. But Bhishma would call none of these a friend, and when he looks to his great-grand nephew, who looks faint at the thought, he feels a pang of regret for the training regiment he demanded of so young a child. Forced to outstrip his peers, and in the company of men so much older for so many years it is easy to see the boy’s self imposed isolation as fear, or awkwardness. Arjuna’s shoulders are newly stiff, and Bhishma can only thing that he must have been very lonely all these years, even if he never showed it.

“Oh,” Arjuna says, poleaxed. “Is that what we are?”

Bhishma slowly begins to step backward, but he is still in the room when Krishna’s face melts into something brimming with empathy. For that, Bhishma thinks, he could forgive almost anything. At the very least, he can begin to trust. “I’m certainly yours,” Krishna says, eyes locked with Arjuna, “but whether you want to be mine is up to you.”

“Yes,” Arjuna says, soft, disbelief warring desperately with hope. “I am.” It echoes to Bhishma like a vow. I am. I am. I am.

Krishna Vaasudev, as told to Bhishma by his instructors, is a bright student. Eager to learn, with near perfect recall and an apparent childhood history of reading a Muggle-born neighbor’s old textbooks. The mystery of young Subhadra is thus solved: the Muggle-born sister of a Muggle-born Gryffindor graduate, Balarama, both of whom lived, until this May, in the village named on the records Bhishma destroyed. Bhishma thinks, and recalls Balarama towering at 17 followed by the sniping shadows of Bhima and Duryodhana, each desperate to learn Beating from the greatest talent Hogwarts has seen in generations.

“Krishna knows the theory,” every teacher repeats, “but it is the execution where he struggles.”

That’s only to be expected, they add, “considering the poor boy’s circumstances.”

Bhishma nods politely, and asks for an interview.

“Is there a reason,” he asks when the pleasantries have been disposed of, “that your teachers believe you to be only slightly more capable than a squib?”

Krishna, sipping at the tea he has been offered, puts down his cup to laugh. “Many, but I assume you have at least one theory that concerns you more than others.”

Bhishma grunts, taking a sip from his own cup. “I watched you transfigure the stone that makes up the foundation of one of the cores of Magical Britain with your bare hands. You should be able to change a teapot.”

Krishna hums, and it is as if somehow it is he, the sixteen-year-old, is in control of the conversation instead of Bhishma. “It is different, with a wand. I never had one before.”

It is a lie, but a very good one. There is just enough truth that it might even have worked if Bhishma himself was not one of the few capable of wandless casting.

“No,” he corrects, “the wand inherently acts as a focus. If it was difficult, your teachers would report that you were struggling with too much power, not too little.”

Krishna smiles: wide, and golden, and knowing. A test, then, instead of a mistake. “I had wondered if the rumors were true. I’m glad not to be as rare as the Wizengamot reactions made it seem.”

“I did not bring you to lie,” Bhishma says, but when he leans back in his chair he finds himself pressing his lips together to keep them from twisting up in response. Curious he thinks, that where he might have been enraged he is instead amused. He thinks of Arjuna, of how small he had sounded when he asked if he and Krishna were friends.

The patronus. “How does Arjuna know that you can cast a patronus?”

Finally, Krishna seems caught off guard. “Because it is Arjuna,” he says, voice slightly snappish, as if that were all the answer needed. And in a way, to Bhishma of all people, perhaps even to Bhishma alone, it is. “He needed my help.”

Krishna sighs, standing up. “I am not a threat, Headmaster, and if you need me to prove it I shall.” His gaze for once is hard, shoulders straight and eyes blazing. “Expecto Patronum.”

Krishna Vaasudev calls forth his guardian with the same tone someone might order a meal, and when Bhishma looks to Krishna’s hands neither is gripping a wand. His hands are slightly in front of his body, molded as if they caress the edges of something, as if they seek to shape life from an invisible lump of clay.

Where there was nothing, suddenly there is. Krishna Vaasudev’s patronus spreads its wings, taking one lap around Bhishma’s study before flying to perch on Krishna’s shoulder. Extraordinary.

“That is a phoenix,’ Bhishma says, staring at the bird with trepidation. With exultation. “Which means you lied – you are in fact the greatest threat I have ever seen.”

#puppyloveblog24 #mahabharata #krishna #bhishma #mahabharata fic #maya writes #i think this version comes off nicer to bhishma than he is in canon but that's mostly because i think he comes off best when with krishna #also im not entirely sure what the wizengamot looks like so i had vyasa just like.. chilling for no reason lol #not super sure how any of this universe really works out tbh #i dont even know what krishna's job is #like the politics are probably distressingly similar to canon given how they rule by hereditary seats #but do they need a political fixer/diplomat/go between?#which is what krishna is literally #i dont even know how jarasandha works other than like the equivalent of a wizard ceo funding kamsa as his pet dictator?#i think kamsa had way too much power given that hes basically a two bit no body to everyone else #but i didnt really know how else to do this #if anyone has ideas please send!! i really enjoy this verse and would like to write more in it!!#alSOOOOO IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE OMG!!!#i hope you like it... so so so late :( <3

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fireandbloodtargaryenn · 6 years ago

Text

End Of Our Time Part 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: None.

Summary: Reader and Bucky are going through one of their roughest patches ever, which ultimately leads to the words you never wanted to hear.

The days and weeks after the worst day of the reader’s life and starts to begin her life without her husband as she moves on as best as they can.

A/N: I hope that everyone has enjoyed this series and i’m also grateful for the positive feedback from the first four! And I hope you guys like parts 3 & 4 too as put alot of work into it. I apologise for spelling and grammar errors as always.

Master List | Prompt List | Catch up here. | REQUESTS ARE OPEN SO SEND ME YOUR REQUESTS. |

Tags List:

lovely-geek @rebelfleur22

When Natasha dropped you off at your room, she looked at you and breathed deeply as she continued to look at you, Natasha cared for you while you were going through such a hard time as you searched for your key card in your small purse.

Hearing Bucky’s cold voice and comment that he made towards you really hurt your feelings and something he should not have said towards you, he really killed your mood for tonight’s date with Steve.

Wanda then came down the hall, as you were still standing at your door, oblivious to Wanda approaching you too busy finding your damn keycard that you always manage to loose either that or someone’s stolen it yet again.

She appeared that she had jus got out of the shower and spotted the pair of you, she always had some sort of sense that something has gone done and was always there when you least expected it.

You sighed deeply, then you quickly then saw Wanda appear next to you, quickly turning around while Natasha adjusted her position with her hands in front of her chest.

“Uh oh...Y/N. What happened?” asked Wanda as if there was something wrong to something happened

“I got asked out on a date with Steve tonight and confronted my ex husband after my training session with Nat.” you said as you were continuing to look through your purse.

“Oh i’m so happy for you that you got a date with Steve of all people and so sad that you have to constantly see your ex and be miserable because he is still around and our enemy Sharon, thank god she doesn't live here” said Wanda as she hugged you

You turned around and hugged Wanda back, suddenly you had an idea in mind and that would help you with your date tonight with Steve and involved Natasha and Wanda to help you with tonight which made you really excited.

“Thanks Wanda, you guys wanna help me get ready?” you asked as you then turned and got your key card from your purse and scanned it then looking at the pair of them with a happy smile on your face

They both nodded as the three of you entered your room, you put your things down on your bed. Wanda and Natasha quickly ran for your closet, and started going through it

“Steve loves blue, red or white--” said Natasha before being interrupted by you.

“Or what about all three?” you popped up and made a suggestion as you stood behind the pair of them as they stopped and looked right back at you with concerns on their face.

Then you squeezed between the pair of them and started looking through your wardrobe as they both quickly moved out of the way. You pulled out your sailor themed rockabilly dress from your closet that you only wore during special occasions and tonight felt so right and perfect for tonight’s date.

Then you moved out of the way and held it up against you and they turned around and both looked at you with their mouths to the floor.

“Y/N?! Where have you been hiding that?” Squealed Wanda

“Yeah Y/N, please tell us.” Said Natasha as they both walked over towards you to get a good look at the dress.

Having this dress meant so much and never had the heart to throw it away as it was vintage from the 40′s and handed down from your grand mother, to your mother and now you.

It was so beautiful, clean and amazing, It fit you perfectly and you were not the person to wear such an amazing dress and meant everything to you still, to you, this dress was absolutely priceless and Steve will love it.

“It was my grand mothers, then my mothers now it’s mine. I think Steve will love it and bring some fond memories for him like this dress has with my family.” as Natasha and Wanda stopped and looked at the dress and it’s details.

Dragging away from Nat and Wanda’s prying eyes, then you went into the bathroom to carefully put on the dress and to quickly style your hair. Then taking a small sigh before you went out

Then you walked out and gave a small twirl for everyone, both Natasha and Wanda turned around while they were absolutely star struck

“Y/N! You look beautiful” they said in unison.

“Thank you!” you replied as you did another twirl.

Not long after Natasha and Wanda left your room a few hours later you finished doing your make up, put on some skin coloured stockings and put some small flowers in your hair. You grabbed your bag and started to make your way toward’s entrance of the Avengers Tower as Steve was always running late.

On your way to front foyer of the Tower and Bucky was standing walking behind you when he saw you walk out of your room, you didnt seem to notice him as he walked behind you.

A small pang of hurt and regret passed over him, at this moment he was starting to regret his divorce from you as you were walking more away from Bucky, too late to call you back.

Was it worth it? Was it worth leaving her for Sharon and this divorce?

You arrived at Steve at the location, the front foyer, and Steve was standing near the front entrance and Steve turned around.

“Y/N....you look beautiful.” said Steve.

“Thank you Steve. Shall we go?” you replied teasingly.

Steve turned to the front entrance, his face locking at yours, his arm open, you linked your arms with his and walked out the front door as Bucky stood at the end of the hallway and watching you both walk out the door.

The restrurant was beautiful and amazing, you both sat down and ordered food and sitting by the window as you both watched the world go by and talking about the little things and then you and Steve got on the subject of Bucky and your marriage. “Im sorry about Buck, Y/N he is my best friend and I cant get through to him about going back to you”

“It’s fine Steve, I knew something was up. I just have to come to terms with it and I have, I've moved on. I’ve found someone I like and I wish he felt the same way” you said as you sighed.

You took a small sip of your wine and put it done and Steve puts his hands on yours and he looked into your eyes deeply. His big blue eyes sucked you in, his facial features too.

“Y/N...I like you alot too, I know who you’re talking about. I do, I really do like you.” said Steve.

“I like you too Steve” you replied.

This was a game changer.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fan Fic #Bucky Barnes Fan Fiction #Bucky Barnes Imagine #Bucky Barnes x Imagine #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes x Angst #Bucky Barnes x Fan Fic #Bucky Barnes x Fiction #Bucky Barnes x Fan Fiction #Bucky Barnes x You

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musicanddancingthroughlife · 6 years ago

Text

Thunderstorm -- Shklance

K this is a little late in coming, sorry. it’s one i started ages ago and only just now finished and it is absolutely not beta read so i apologize again, this time in advance for how poorly it’s probably been written. um in other news my boyfriend and i have been talking about marriage and so in addition to everything else stressing me out we’re planning a wedding and by we i mean me and not him and so im just a mess honestly. anyway have a story. and please feel free to send me other prompts please? I’m almost officially out of finished fics, i just have that one shklance series i was kind of working on, an unfinished shklance sugarbaby au and some klance piece that looks like its going to be a multichapter fic except im scared of commitment so now im ignoring it lol. I also have a klance version of this fic that i might finish and post in the future. im also looking to start on a MCU stevetony or stevebucky or stuckony fic if i ever get my crap together *shrug* i think that’s everything i wanted to say so im shutting up, hope you enjoy :)

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Thunderstorm

Thunder cracked ahead, low and booming, threatening. Lance whine and curled up into an even smaller ball, a seemingly impossible task, ye tin his desperation, he managed. He tried to simultaneously clamp a hand dover his mouth and cover his ears with his hands, torn between muffling himself and the terrifying noise from outside. His heart ached. He had once loved thunderstorms – loved the rain, the petrichor, the sight of the angry sea, with its rolling waves, the way the storm seemed to reach deep inside him and tug on his own heart. Snuggling into bed with his parents as a child, and later with all his siblings as he comforted them through the storm as his parents once did for him. But that was before Voltron.

Before the whole war had started, before all the battles and deaths. Before the fear. Before the explosion.

After so many months out in space, they’d finally returned to earth, only to encounter a raging thunderstorm. Faced with such dangerous conditions (Allura specifically seemed nervous about flying through the storm) and combined with everyone’s exhaustion (thanks to several skirmishes along the way, and everyone’s lack of sleep from excitement at being so close to home), it was decided that they would each land and wait out the storms in their own lions. Thought, Lance was the only one both awake and alone. Or maybe it just felt like that. But, no, the comms were on. Like any of them would allow anything less, not after finally getting Shiro and Keith back.

Even over the storm, Lance could make out Hunk’s snoring, so he was out. Pidge’s video feed showed she’d finally knocked out, too. Allura and Coran in Blue were holding a quiet conversation, and though Lance couldn’t hear or see them, he knew Shiro and Keith were sheltered together in Black. Another squeak left him before he groaned again, a few tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Keith was an entirely different problem. Honestly, would it have killed him to maybe just say hi when he first came back? It wasn’t like Lance was asking for a full-blown makeout session (not that he would’ve said no), he just wanted a hi. Maybe a hug. But noooo. Shiro was always the priority for Keith. Not that Lance could blame him. If it ever came down to him or Shiro, he’d choose Shiro, too. But still… Whatever. It was fine. It was going to be fine. He was going to keep quiet and keep still and when this storm ended he’d clean up and bounce back, ready to get back to Earth with his friends. Moving on. Probably never see Shiro or Keith again, when they went their separate ways, so that’s fine. It was fine. It was –

There was another crack of thunder and Lance yelped again, sobbing pathetically as he lay helpless on the floor. His comms were muted, thank goodness, but he couldn’t help wishing that the others would care enough to come for him and help him, comfort him in some way. But this was fine. He was going. To. Be. Fine.

“Lance?” Lance choked down on another sob, hardly daring to believe the whisper he thought he’d heard. No, he’d imagined it. Because he’s just that desperate. And pathetic. Right.

“Lance.” Lance cracked his eyes open and was able to see the outline of Keith’s face in the dim lights from within Red.

“Keith?” Damn. His voice was hoarse. So quiet. So pathetic. Ugh. Keith didn’t seem to notice, though, so Lance was grateful to him for that.

“Red felt uneasy, like something was wrong. She’s not used to dealing with emotions, I think,” Keith tried to joke, but Lance only felt guilt settle heavier on him.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll uh. I’ll try to keep it down then, ya?” Lance chuckled, though it came out more like a muffled sob, and more tears fell from his eyes, slipping down his face and across his cheek uncomfortably. He shifted to sit up, wiping the tears off as he did so.

“Hey, no, that’s not what he meant.” And holy heck was that Shiro? Lance peered up carefully, amazed that not only had Keith come, but Shiro had, too. He saw Keith frown, concern shining in his eyes. Why was he concerned? Lance was fine. Just then, Red growled, sending a shiver through both boys.

“I didn’t mean that you should hide it, Lance,” Keith continued. “What’s wrong? I thought… I thought you loved the rain. We figured you would’ve been thrilled to spend some time here, so why’re you sad?” Shiro joined in, “Are you happy we’re so close to Earth…? But then… why are you laying on the floor, hiding?”

Lance watched in fascination, storm around them almost forgotten, as Keith and Shiro rambled on, sometimes even talking over each other in their eagerness to help Lance. It almost didn’t even register in Lance’s mind that they had asked him a question, until he noticed they were both standing above him, looking at him expectantly and with worry.

“Oh! Um ya I’m great! Perfect! Totally fine!” But another bellow of thunder made Lance flinch back, biting his lip to hold back another whimper. Why did they have to come to talk to him now, of all times? There had been plenty of other opportunities where Lance hadn’t looked like a major crybaby, but hey. Truth hurts and all that. Whatever.

More thunder rumbled above them, and Lance tried to swallow back the sobs as he turned around a curled up in a ball, at least managing to avoid eye contact with the other two. Or at least, he had avoided eye contact, until Shiro reached down and scooped Lance up into his arms. Lance attempted to squirm at first, but quickly gave in, instead gripping Shiro’s shirt in his fists, clinging tightly and hiding his face in his chest. Shiro soothed his quiet, distressed noises, even as he settled himself on the floor, Lance sideways on his lap, still leaning against Shiro, huddling as close as he could possibly get. Keith sat down next to them, leaning over to stretch Lance’s legs across his own. He massaged the tight, tense muscles, joining Shiro with soft words of comfort and praise.

Together, the two waited with Lance, waited until the storm had let up and the thunder had faded into the distance. By then, Lance had finally relaxed. Though he still hid, the whimpers had been exchanged for somewhat steady breaths, shaky sighs interspersed amongst them. The room had been so quiet and still for so long that initially it took Keith and Shiro some time to realize that Lance was talking to them.

“It was the explosion. I know it. Was years ago. I know that. I know I’m stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Shouldn’t still be hung up on such a stu-“

“Stop.” Keith broke in. “Stop it, Lance, because you’re not stupid. You’re not. You’re incredible. And so, so strong.”

Shiro nosed at Lance’s hair as Lance paused to take in a deep, shaky breath before continuing as if Keith hadn’t interrupted. “The explosion on the castle. With Coran. The thunder sounds just like it.” And the minute they realized what Lance meant, they were back to touching him, soothing him, quieting him. Reassuring. Because even if they hadn’t quite talked about it yet, Lance was theirs. Keith’s and Shiro’s. The team’s. He had a family that he needed to return to. He belonged to Earth, and to his friends. And they were damn well going to get him there.

#vld fic #shklance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #vld #voltron legendary defender #mywriting #jessi rambles #ummmm #thunderstorm #shklance fic #langst #comfort fic #crying #idk what else to tag as #and thats upsetting af

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bahannah01writes · 6 years ago

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Lighthouse

This was going to be a flower fic, but I got mildly metaphorical and now it’s called lighthouse lol. Aaaa I know I haven’t written in forever and I’m far less than consistent but I’m hopefully still a decent writer and I will hopefully be uploading more and being here for you all more as well :) Thank you, everyone, for your continued support, I love y’all big time and you have no idea how much I appreciate it<3!!

Kind of requested by this sweetie! @glorious-idiot I know it’s very late but I hope you enjoy, love! Also this may or may not have a part two because I feel like it could but I feel like it’s also good as is. Soooo tell me what you all think ! ^^

Warnings: Slightly Paranoid! Reader

Send in requests!

Check out the masterlist here :)

Tags: @kourt-kay @themarkiplierexperience @let-it-go-and-live-again @skarletton @maximum-fander @randomboxofsadness @browniebri @amostpeculiarmademoisellerp @potteritis @kindasortagood if you want to be on the tagged list, just message me and it shall be done!

Enjoy!

11:56pm

Sent to moomoo:

are you up?

00:13am

Sent to moomoo:

aaaAa i dont want to bug but please tell me youre awake

00:28am

Sent to moomoo:

Markkkkkkk:(

Sighing, you realize that you're alone for this one. You breathe in and out for a moment to try and calm your racing heart, but it seems to do very little. The voices from your TV acting only as a buzzing white noise in the background of your mind. You try to focus, eyes struggling to stay on the screen when they feel the need to dart and survey the room. Every little sound is sending your heart and mind into a panicked state. Feet grow cold and heavy, they keep you from moving whether you want to or not. Not unlike your voice, which appears to also be stuck and hiding from what may be around you. All you can manage to do is pull the blanket, your one layer of protection, tighter around your body in a hope that you can bury yourself from the world in its warmth.

There was another noise from behind you. The sound of floors creaking only for just a second. In a swift motion, your head swerves to look in that direction and you swear you caught a shadow of a figure. Your eyes widen once again and you try to control your breathing. Hands grasping to get your phone once again, the screen illuminating your face in the dimly lit room as you debate what to do next. You lip finds itself between your teeth, a nervous habit showing itself in this moment of paranoia. You know you are making something out of nothing, but the fear you are feeling is nothing less than real.

You needed to try again.

00:45am

Sent to moomoo:

Im scared, mark

please just call me asap, ok?

Your cat stares at you from the other side of the couch. Her curious eyes inspect you and senses that something is off. Rather than letting her make her way over, you reach over and pull her into your lap, a meow of resistance resonating in the room. You ignore it and instead, try to pet your nerves away. She eventually settles and begins to purr, content with this odd situation as long as she's getting pet. You, on the other hand, are still far from content with your situation.

Why isn't Mark awake? You know you tell him all the time to get more sleep but why must tonight be the one night he decides to take your advice?

He was always there for you when you were scared. Honestly, he was one of the only people you trusted enough to talk to about things like this. Mainly because he and Amy found out after they insisted you stayed and watched horror movies with them for Halloween… but that's beside the point. They were both able to be your lighthouse that guided you through the fog of paranoia in the late hours of the night. Only, it seems as if you may be left sailing blind tonight.

Until a certain name catches your eyes and becomes a temptation.

A mental debate fills your thoughts with ‘yes’s and ‘no’s and yet, you click the call button all the same. Not truly realizing it at first, either. As the phone rings in your hand, you panic for a whole new reason and with a shaky hand, hang up.

You shake your head and place your phone down. That’s when you notice that the room appears darker than before. All the little noises that you were temporarily oblivious to fade back into your world. The large glass sliding door adjacent to the couch, hidden by mere curtains that are lighter than the weight on your chest, feels like it has transformed into a dismal portal. You can feel eyes on you. But how many? What if someone is just waiting out there for you and has been watching you all along? And… what if they come in?

Your breath catches, it is as if you can already feel their hands around your throat. Your chest rises and falls like the unsteady waves of the deep ocean, you feel yourself sinking into the unknown and losing your sense of security.

Your phone rings and at this noise of a possible saving grace, your desperate hands reach to answer without even looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” You call out, voice wavering from the anxiety that has taken hold of your body.

“Hey, (Y/n). You called..?”

Ethan. Your eyes dart for a moment, debating if you should come out with it. Instinctively, you go to pet your cat but you notice she had left at some point without you noticing. This prompts you to go forth and tell him after all.

“Yeah, I did… Sorry,” You automatically apologize, feeling bad for the emotional strife you are about to reveal to the poor boy. You would normally not even dare tell this secret fear of yours to him in case it would somehow ruin your chances with the sweetheart, but the fear raising in your head outweighs such small concerns. You hear him dismiss your apology and a shaky smile crosses your lips and you continue with, “I know it’s late but, I… I’m kind of really scared, right now, Ethan.” And with that, a humorless chuckle leaves your lips. The feeling of weakness now mixing with your paranoia, what if he sees you just as weak as you feel?

It’s silent on the line. You feel yourself sink deeper into the depths of your mind at the idea that he may feel just as you suspect.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

A story? You’re a tad perplexed but curl into yourself and nod, “I, yeah, I would like to hear one, I think.” Your voice is less than confident but all the same, just listening to Ethan tell a story sounds nice.

You feel like you can hear his golden smile over the phone as his voice lights up and begins to tell a story back from his years in junior high. Already sensing that it will probably be one with him acting stupid or coming up with some silly and delightful plan, your heart begins to lighten. You close your eyes and try to work on your breathing as you listen, hanging onto every word that falls from his lips and into your ear.

A distracted mind no longer swarms your thoughts with the nightmarish and impossible situations that it seems to fill with at night. Instead, it begins to clear and you realize that you have another lighthouse.

About five stories in, the clock on the wall reminds you that you have been up for far too long. You interrupt Ethan, “Oh wow, I’m sorry, Ethan! It’s like almost 3am. I didn’t mean to keep you up this late-”

“You realize if anyone is keeping someone up, it’s me right?” His laugh that follows is sleepy, making you smile softly and roll your eyes.

“I’m the one that called you, though.”

“Cause you were scared and it’s my responsibility as your friend to help.”

Guilt tugs at your heart but you try to shake it off. Because he was right, friends help friends with even the silliest of fears. “Thank you, Ethan,” you say, almost whispering, still a bit embarrassed but also very grateful to this man you have in your life.

“It’s nothing, you’d do the same for me.”

There is another moment of silence, only this one is filled with mutual admiration and love for one another.

It is his sleepy laugh returning that breaks the silence, “You feel better right?”

“I do!” You laugh lightly along with him.

“Good. I want you to try and get some sleep tonight, alright?”

“Alright, and again, just thank you so much.”

He hums in response, “Call me again if you ever get scared. If you ever need me to come over too, tell me and I’ll be there,” Ethan chuckles and is grateful that you can’t see the blush growing on his cheeks, “I’ll always do what I can to protect you, even if it’s just from the things that go bump in the night.”

You thank you for the third time before sharing an exchange of goodnights and finally hanging up. The smile refusing to leave your lips as you feel your heart not only at peace but also in complete and utter bliss at his words.

Maybe he really could be your new lighthouse.

So, I really hope you all enjoyed this!! :) It may be a lil obvious but this is slightly personal as I get super spooked easily when I am alone and it’s night and I always end up spooking myself further because that’s what I do apparently lol Anywayyy, I wanted to say thank you to you guys again :) Justttt aaa I know I’m not the greatest so to everyone who is still supporting me and reading my stuff, bless you all and thank you so so so much!! I will try to do better by you all!! ^^

#ethan nestor x reader #ethan nestor imagines #ethan nestor fanfiction #markipler x reader #markiplier fanfiction #teamiplier x reader #teamiplier fanfic #fanfiction #bahannah01writes

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