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insomniac-dot-ink · 3 years

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Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

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Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me.

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it.

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost.

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl?

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own.

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

If you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or supporting me on patreon (even a dollar helps!), check out my Sapphic fantasy book as well!

#wlw #sapphic #found family #urban fantasy #writeblr #magical realism #fantasy stories #short story #writing #lesbian romance #patreon late release #femslash #f/f #8k #my work #long post #long post cw

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cutepastelstarsalior · 2 years

Text

Info about Evil!Bruno aka Oscar

He comes from a alternate universe we’re some of the gifts are swaps

Julieta has Antonio’s, Dolores has Isabela, Isabela has Julieta, Antonio has Dolores and Camilo has Luisa

His Isabela was always seen in her babydoll midnight blue dress, with a basket of bake goods and pocket full of flowers and herbs. Her hair was also tied into a long braid.

His Dolores had the ability to grow plants. His Dolores would dress in a red sundress, that had white spots on it. Her hair was loose and puffed out, full of different flowers, herbs, and vines. She always had flowers in her hair, even when he kill her.

His Luisa power was shapeshifing. His Lusia would wear a puff sleeve off the shoulder mini dress, with her hair loose and curly around her cheeks.

Antonio look the same since he just got his gift but he will wear a yellow hairband to show his ears

Camilo hair is a bit long and is tied back, he wear more fitting clothes since he works out a lot, mostly wearing tan tops. His runan is tied around his waist

Oscar was transported to the canon universe (only this time 5 years earlier) by cutting out his left eye and using the candle wax and magic. It was supposed to help get rid of the family’s magic but it transported him instead

His left eye is completely gone so he sew it up with green thread and over his eye is three thick scars from a leopard.

He has tattoos! The most noticeable ones are is collarbones, his left being a squid with many tentacles and in the right a snake wrap around his upper arm

Speaking of snakes he loves them! He keeps them as pets, his first and favorite one being Claudia a common snake

he also has musophobia (fear of rats and mice) and when he sees a rat or mouse he immediately kills it.

Luisa, Isabela, and Dolores are dead. Isabela died by being crush by his tower, Luisa die from the casita being burned after she got trap inside the house, and he murder Dolores after Mirabel wouldn’t give him the candle

His hair reaches to his shoulders and his banged drap in front of him

He smokes

He also bites people when startled

In his world he is the oldest, Pepa is still the middle child and Julieta is the youngest

Pedro lives in this world, Alma died because she thought that the raiders would have empathy for a young woman who just became a new mother, they didn’t

Pedro in his grief beside that the family should be the only ones that he should look out for. When the kids got there gift he forbid them from useinf them in town, only when there 15 can they use them

Pedro is very protective of Julieta since she the youngest, small, and with her gift to speak the animals she more kind and has the least dangerous gift, also Julieta heavily looks like alma

Pedro keeps Julieta lock in then casita for years making Oscar and pepa watch and protect their babysit

When Julieta is 15 and she finally allowed to go outside after much begging, she ends up wonder away and gets bullied by some gift and boys they verbal and physically assaulted her and Oscar found out and murder them right there

Julieta meet Agustin when she was 22 and him 20, they meet because Agustin saw her taking and talking to a mother cat and her newborns. Agustin thought Julieta was a sweet and silly girl. They two meet and become friends. Julieta really likes Agustin because he’s the only one that didn’t bully her or infantile her

Oscar dosnt/did gives the town that many visions, because they vision usually show the mundane. When it’s a bad vision the town dosnt hate Oscar but are thankfully he warns them. Oscar ends up doing theater and entertainment for the children, once Julieta is allowed outside she and the animals also help entertaining

#fandom #encanto #encanto au #villain bruno au #Bruno Madrigal #my au

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piratewithvigor · 4 years

Text

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously.

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged.

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

#I made this instead of doing homework #Classic Rock #Meme

331 notes · View notes

todourouki · 4 years

Text

Misery Business | K. Bakugou

a one shot

✰ SUMMARY the one where you didn’t mean to take the hothead away from his girlfriend, but you did anyway. It was nothing personal, you just knew that Bakugou Katsuki deserved way better than what he was settling for.

PAIRING Taken/Pro-Hero!Bakugou & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT 4.6K

WARNINGS explicit language, mentions of cheating, cheating lol, suggestive language, angst, and some fluff at the end bc I cannot end my fics in a bad way I am weak sorry!

You were not a home wrecker.

At least, you wouldn’t say that to your own face.

You knew that the crush you had on Bakugou was wrong. You know that no matter how it is that you put it, or however strong your feelings are, or even however long you’ve even had feelings— liking a guy in a relationship was a huge no-no.

You weren’t the kind of girl to go around liking a girl’s boyfriend, though. It’s not like your feelings magically appeared out of thin air and now you’re stuck falling inlove with a guy that finds solitude in someone else— no, you aren’t like that.

Your feelings for Bakugou are much more complex, to say the least.

It all started in high school, when just the mere thought of the boy brought butterflies to your stomach with how strong and courageous he was. From his attractive face, to his blunt and explosive personality, you always found yourself admiring him when given the chance.

All of that went to shit when he decided to finally give one of the girls that were always fawning over him a chance during the beginning of your third year attending Yuuei Academy.

It was like you had gotten punched in the face, and now it feels like you’re just purposely getting stabbing in the heart every time you did as much as look at them.

That definitely explains why you’re sulking at your table during a school dance with a scowl on your face so you don’t have to see the happy couple waltz around the cafeteria floor.

All the top Pro-Heroes were assigned to attend the dance as academy alumni in order to ensure the safety of the students (as well as make sure students even decided to show up). You, being one of the top five heroes, were ordered to show up with no complaints.

The song currently playing finally changed from a low-tempo song to a much higher one, and with that, you decided to make that your imaginary queue to take a walk around the school’s building before returning to the large decorated area.

Your heel-clad feet dragged you all the way across the gymnasium, sending kids smiles if they were in your way and simply telling them that you were “getting some fresh air before the real fun starts.”

The doors slammed shut, and the solitude of the hallways engulfed in dark hues reflected against your strained eyes in a way that made you have to physically restrain your hand from harshly rubbing at it in order to make sure your make up stood intact.

The halls reminded you of a younger you (and by younger, you mean two years. you’re only 20 and already have the mind of some old hag) that used to run through these halls with a mini little green skirt and an imagination you wish you could still understand.

They also reminded you of the blond boy inside. Especially the room you stood in front of right now.

Almost as if it was second nature, your body made its way to Class 1-A: the place where it all began, the place where you met your closest friends, and the place where you fell inlove.

Opening the door, the lights turned on to reveal a classroom almost identical to the one you walked into every day four years ago. The desks were positioned the same, the posters remained in the same spot, and even the words on the chalkboard seemed oddly familiar.

The room reeked of new paint and textbook papers, and the only thing you really wanted to smell was the designer perfume clinging helplessly to your body so the odors of a high school class don’t even think twice about sticking to you.

Your body walked towards your old desk, Seat 12, the dress you wore clinging to your body as you pulled the chair out and nostalgically sat down. You were a first year all over again, and the thought made you laugh.

You looked embarrassing your first year— as embarrassing as someone who looks like you now can get. From the hideously overheated hair, to the emo phase you still seemed to sort of be stuck in, the world seemed too easy no matter what bullshit was going on the minute you sat down at that desk.

That explained how you felt now— no matter how much your heart yearned to be in the hands of Bakugou, the minute the cold sturdiness of the chair touched your warm body, all of that disappeared. For once, nothing in the world mattered. More precisely, Bakugou didn’t matter.

“Tch, I knew you’d be in here.” Annnddd there goes that.

Your eyes widened, now staring at a smirking blond wearing a black and white tux instead of the chalkboard you once zoned out on.

His arms were crossed against his muscular chest, and the muscles outlined the button up shirt in a way that should just be downright illegal. His face was gleaming with mischief, slowly walking his way over to the empty desk directly next to yours, taking a seat, and positioning his body in a lazy manner with his legs propped up against the table. Just like before.

“You know, this brings back a lot of shitty memories.” He grunted, stretching his arms behind his head and lolling his head to face you.

You nodded in response, glancing your head up to look at the lights in a way to move the gears in your brain to say something. Literally the same thing you used to do during Midnight’s long, tedious classes.

“Yea, a bunch of ones I’d much rather forget.” You said, looking over at him and watching as his eyes stared directly at the window you always found him staring out of when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone in class.

“Always hearing your annoying ass mumble and suck your teeth used to really piss me off.” His words were masked with seriousness, trying to hide the playful smirk on his lips you identified much too quickly. With that, a scoff left your lips and you crossed your arms.

“Nobody said anything about the pencil you insisted on tapping for hours straight.” Your jab back made him chuckle, looking back at you with vermillion eyes that made you lose all sense of feelings.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you always forgot what it was like to look at anything before you looked into his eyes. That’s how scary it was— how intimidating it was to be under his presence. His eyes captured you, holding you hostage and probably never letting you go.

“At least we didn’t sit next to each other during our third year,” he began, placing a hand loosely around his tie as he continued to look at you in your eyes, “I don’t think I would have ever focused with the humming you did to the same damn song every day.”

“Yeah, instead of me though, you ended up sitting with your future wife.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.

It was like word vomit, the snarky tone slipping through your lips as if it was trying its hardest to come off in a jokingly manner, only ending up appearing as sarcastic as possible. It was like the words fell from your tongue quicker than you could punch your own esophagus.

Bakugou stood quiet for a moment, staring at you and knitting his eyebrows together as if deep in thought. Your eyes ended up leading you back to the words Relief Fund written messily against the green chalkboard to save your embarrassment.

You didn’t see the frown itching across Bakugou’s lips.

“We aren’t married, ya know. I don’t know why people decided to start that rumor.” He said, a sigh passing by his lips to quiet his tone as if he was scared his girlfriend was around to hear it.

“Might as well marry her. You’re not really the kind of guy that dates just to date.” Your words struck hesitantly in the room in a timid yet informative voice, and Bakugou watched the board as well so that you were both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Yeah well I’m not sure, marriage is a big deal.” Bakugou was muttering, and the tone of his voice made you crane your neck over to where he was seated as you stood quiet.

What were you, someone who was basically inlove with him, supposed to say that?

You both stood in silence for a few seconds, the words in your throat itching to escape as the remnants of memories you both had both in class and just together in general filled your vision.

“I always hated this seat because I knew it meant that I would always be the person you would argue with.” You began, closing your eyes and releasing a strained scoff from your glossed lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing, or what you were talking about, but as the moon danced across the pale boy’s face and the music in the cafeteria continued to gently ring through the halls, the only thing you were thinking about doing was speaking more than you ever have.

“Morning after morning, I grew used to your loud voice and extremely hostile—” “HAH? I was NOT—”

You sent him a glare, immediately cutting him off and proceeding your weird speech that just couldn’t let anything go.

“Anyways, morning after morning, I ended up looking forward to the words you decided to call me and yell at me about for the day. It’s like, if it didn’t happen,” your arms moved in an animated way, catching Katsuki’s full attention as he looked on to your rant, “I felt like my day wasn’t really an actual day, ya know?

The one thing you loved appreciated most about Bakugou was his ability to listen. And when you say listen, you mean just listen. His ears were perked up in your direction, shoes turned towards you and eyes watching your movements like a hawk.

“And then—” you gulped, pausing for a second in order to think your words though. It was always now or never to you, the drama giving you a sense of hope against a man like that.

It’s either I bring it up now, or I never get to speak my peace, and I refuse to be one of those people showing up to the wedding yelling ‘I oppose.’

“And then it was here that I realized I was the biggest idiot alive by feeling the way I felt about this one person.” You said, eyes glaring at the wall in front of you blankly as you cowered behind the whisps of your lashes.

Bakugou said nothing, but from the corner of you eye, you could see him staring at the side of your face with an expression you had never really see on him.

“I spent years pining after some dumbass that didn’t even see the genuine interest I had in him.” Your words were like alcohol, and Bakugou was too busy drinking them all in to fully acknowledge what you were talking about.

“I watched him give in to this one girl though,” a lightbulb when off in the boy’s head and for once, he felt like the idiot in the room, “a girl that doesn’t even care for him.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou growled, almost as if he was threatening you and warning you to tread on light waters.

If there was one thing he ever respected about you though, it was that you were never scared of him.

Your eyes snapped towards him, a scowl on your face as you began to feel anger bubbling up in your stomach from the way he tried to shut you up. You were finally speaking your peace and he’s too much of a coward to let you finish?

“You know, I thought the first red flag of her trying to change his attitude was enough. I thought that maybe, just maybe, after her telling him that being number one hero wasn’t really tangible, he’d have some common fucking sense and see what everyone else sees.” Your words were like venom, your eyes not leaving his as you huffed in your seat.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou’s voice was low and angry, laced with anger as he stared at you just as intensely as you stared at him. Your expression never faltered, and instead, you turned your entire body around in the chair to fully face him with arms across your chest.

“I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” you taunted, your anger only rising in value, “and so the fuck do you, Bakugou.”

“You know she doesn’t give a fuck about you and you know very fucking well she’s only with you because you’re Bakugou Katsuki!”

His name slipping off your tongue brought shivers to his spine as he sat up in his seat and glared at you with the tip of his ears painting themselves a light red hue.

He was angry— not necessarily at you, but at the fact that he was getting called out for something like this. He was getting called out for finally being with a girl and was getting shit for it from someone he saw as a best friend.

“You don’t know shit— you don’t even fucking know her.” His voice began to get louder, the bass in his voice causing your heart to vibrate as you shocked both you and him by slamming a hand against the desk in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Katsuki open your fucking eyes!” You only used his first name when your emotions were high, and that made the man’s hands shake in anger as he watched your outburst.

“She forgot your anniversary! She doesn��t make you your favorite food— fuck she doesn’t even kiss you unless there’s a shitty camera around!” You stood up, stomping your feet and watching as he stood up quickly after you and scowled over at your angry face.

“She doesn’t care enough to remember shit that you don’t like which is why you always end up at stupid shit like this and she doesn’t even care to meet your friends!” Your voice was now loud, the music of the cafeteria being long forgotten as you huffed over at him and slammed a finger into his chest at every syllable you spoke.

“You want to know what I think about her, Bakugou? Bestfriend to bestfriend?” The words bestfriend seethed through your lips like venom as your finger dug itself into the middle of his pecks. He said nothing, waiting for you to continue as his hands balled into fists along his sides.

“I think that you’re such a fucking pussy, you can’t fathom being with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on the way she does.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at his angry expression as you took a step closer to him threateningly.

“I think you hate the fact that I’m right— the fact that she blatantly uses you and doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you hate the fact that I know you so well enough to know that—”

Before the last few letters of the words could slip through your lips, a warm hand slammed against your fingers and snatched it into his grasp as he began to huff in anger. The caramel smell only increased, and you could sense his quirk begin to flare the abnormal heat in his hands up every second.

“You don’t know shit,” he growled, his voice raising as he began to yell at you in your face, “you don’t know shit about me!”

“Are you shitting me?!” You exclaimed, grabbing at the hand that grasped yours with a grip so tight Bakugou had to glance at it quickly before reverting his eyes back to yours.

“I’ve known every little fucking thing about you since we were fifteen!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill down your eyes as the anger inside you finally erupted in a way you couldn’t control.

“Nobody asked you to be so invested in my fucking life anyway!” He retaliated, his voice booming through the room as you stared at him incredulously.

“I was so fucking invested in you because I’m fucking inlove with you, you idiot!”

Your voice silenced the room, the grip he had on your hand tightening as he stared at you with shocked eyes yet the same familiar scowl you were used to. Your expression never faltered the way his eyes did when he heard you, though. You stood your ground.

“It’s so annoying seeing the guy you are inlove with be so unhappy in a relationship because he feels as if he has no one else.” Your voice began to quiet down, a tear slipping down your eye as Bakugou watched you with a slightly softened face.

The hand gripping yours loosened a bit, still gripping it to his chest as he wrapped all his fingers around your bracelet covered wrist.

“It’s so annoying watching you try to force someone else to fall inlove with you, when I’ve been inlove with you for free for years. It hurts watching you try to force yourself to be inlove with a girl you know you don’t want to be with. It just fucking hurts Bakugou, so fucking bad.”

There was a crack in your voice that Bakugou knew all too well from the restless nights you’d spend together, and it didn’t take much for him to engulf your frame into a tight hug as he rested his head against yours. You dived into his chest, the familiar warmth wrapping around you in a way that made a few more tears slip from your eyes. You didn’t make a noise, but he knew that you were hurting.

Neither of you said anything, only holding each other until you removed yourself from him and wiped the tears off your face before he could see the evident streams marking your cheeks. He stared at you silently, as if he was contemplating something.

With timid eyes, he watched you fix the straps of your dress to find something to play with under his gaze. The silence was deafening, and was an unusual characteristic for the boy who always had something to say.

“You know she hates me, that’s why you never bring her around me.” You said, a tone of blankness carrying your voice through the room as your tears dried up and was replaced by the anger haunting your heart once again.

“No she doesn’t, she just feels like we’re too close.” Bakugou retorted, sighing and taking a seat on the chair he once occupied. You followed suit, leaning against the back of your own seat as you faced his body.

“Back in high school, I never told you this, but her and I argued in the bathroom once.” You informed, dryly chuckling as you watched his face contort with confusion.

“I told her that her pretty little face and fucked up manipulation wasn’t going to keep you around in the long run.” You stood quiet after letting him know, gulping some saliva down as you averted your gaze from his body to your painted nails. “Guess I was wrong.”

Bakugou didn’t know what to do. There were many things the man was capable of: he could destroy any villain in his way, was braver than any other fucking half assed hero out there, was smart as fuck, and could manage a relationship as well as being a top pro-hero because that’s just who he was.

What he couldn’t do, though, was fully digest the situation in front of him.

He bit his lip, running a hand across his face in frustration and staring meekly at your face. You couldn’t help but admire his frame as you did before. He was strong, well-built, smelled good, had great posture— there was nothing wrong with him. It was almost surreal.

“We’ve been dating for like two years.” Bakugou’s low voice broke the silence as he stared deep into your now glazed over eyes. You didn’t break the contact, hands rested against each side of the seat as you watched him speak.

“I’ve been dating her for two years and yet...” His words were lost, almost sounding as if he was hesitating the very same way you were earlier. You said nothing though, knowing he would stop expressing himself if you had opened your mouth.

“And yet I can’t help but imagine she was someone else.”

It was like every word he said was the last glass of water, and you drank it up against your skin in a way that brought goosebumps to his. You furrowed your eyebrows, silently signaling for him to continue.

“I never told you this,” he mocked your voice, his scowl still resting against his soft face, “but there was a time where I thought about what it would be like if we were a shitty thing.”

Everyone always assumed Bakugou and you would end up together. Whether it be from watching you both pin are each other relentlessly, to watching you fawn over him, and from just watching your interactions with one another— it almost seemed destined for you two to work out. Keyword: almost.

“Shitty Hair and Dunce-Face tell me all the fucking time that I’m an idiot for choosing this girl over you.” He scoffed, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tingle at the use of the name ‘this girl’ for his own girlfriend. “It’s not like I wanted to, you were always my first option.”

You stood quiet. The last sentence was lower than the others and sounded way more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but gape at him, repeating it in your brain as if they was the last words you’d ever hear again. You were always my first option.

Maybe it was the buzz you felt from the energy within the room, maybe you were drunk on adrenaline, or maybe you were just being a fucking dumbass, but the way your feet moved you from your seat to the desk he was sitting at was something you just couldn’t stop in time.

Bakugou hasn’t said anything beyond what he just finished as he watched you gently push his body away and hop up onto the desk. Your body was now inches away from his as you watched him shyly. You were always so obnoxiously close to him, so why is it that his stomach was throwing fireballs at his insides now?

“You deserve better, Katsu..” You lowly began, fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you glanced over at his body through your dark eyelashes. “Does she take care of you?”

Your words hit him in the chest and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away from you. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how you were doing it, but he was entranced by your every word and it was scaring the shit out of him. He found himself shaking his head, eyes never leaving yours as the scowl in his face began to soften.

“You’re a strong man, Katsu,” the way his nickname slipped from your lips nearly made him melt, the unfamiliar feelings he was so used to suppressing caused his head to jumble around and process your words, “you need someone who takes care of you the right way.”

You watched him, a hand lifting towards his head and running itself through his soft yet spikey hair. Bakugou always claimed he hated it when you played with his hair since that was something he thought no one was close enough to be able to touch, but he always seemed to lean into you unknowingly.

His chair scooted closer to the table, your legs now in between his lazily opened ones and his body aching to go closer into your touch.

“What are you suggesting?” His dark voice questioned, eyes staring at you as the once softened expression transformed into another of a slowly rising mischievous smirk. You were sure you were breathing earlier, but now? Not so much.

“Are you suggesting that I need someone else to take care of me?” His words hit you hard, your body facing whiplash from all the sudden changes of emotion.

You looked down shyly, trying to find the confidence you once had that was now lost in the gush of your flustered moment, yet Bakugou’s calloused, warm hand then reached up to your chin to perk it up to face his now standing body.

“Are you saying that you should be the one taking care of me?” He asked, staring at your eyes with more intensity than you were fully even prepared for. Your eyes dug into his as the feeling of his hands on your chin caused your brain to short circuit for a moment.

“You said it yourself, I’m a strong man.” You could feel the confidence drip from his words as you bit your left cheek to keep from whimpering at the intensity laced within the empty classroom. “I need someone to take care of me the right way, and I don’t think this girl is doing it Y/N.”

The use of your name caused you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and blush behind his words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly zipped from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes once again. His body was now towering over your seated one, looking down at you as if you were the only person in the world at this moment.

Bakugou was out of it, to say the least. Usually he felt as if he had control over situations like this, but even with towering over your frame and his hand gripping your chin, he felt as if you were in complete control of the situation. He knew that his current girlfriend was probably coming to look for him, and he knew that everything was inevitable and he was simply just prolonging it.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hand across your neck to grip the back of it and pull your face in towards him.

A kiss was the last thing you were expecting, and you would have gasped if his lips weren’t putting you in such a trance. It was like everything had stopped, time stopped, the dance stopped, everything was just on a hiatus.

His tongue danced against yours in a way that made you whimper lowly into his touch. His hands explored your body, rubbing against you in exasperated motions as you reciprocated by rubbing your hands across his chest, shoulders, and waist. It was like you were both doing the last thing you’d do before the world came to an end.

His lips moved feverishly across your own as tilted your head upwards to get a more comfortable position. A warm yet equally rough hand snaked it’s way back onto your neck and gripped your throat with such possession, you felt a tingle reach your lower half.

The intensity of the make out was one that put every other sound to shame as the room was filled with nothing but the small whimpers coming from either of you and the sound of your lips smacking against his. It was like a dream, and Bakugou couldn’t control himself any longer as he groaned into your touch.

It wasn’t until a gasp broke the seductive silence within the room, as well as pushed the two of you apart only to see his girlfriend staring at the two of you with wide eyes and a fizzy drink in both of her hands., that you realized something.

Shit just got really fucking complicated.

—

back to masterlist

I wanna have an angsty kiss moment with bakugou

>:( damnit anyways yeah like, reblog, comment, follow! thanks for reading! don’t forget to send some requests in <3

- heilly

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.14}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The first few weeks of classes went by in a breeze. With potions and herbology out of the picture now, Robin had a lot of time to study for those four classes that she still had left to take, and she also got around to doing plenty of work on her own research on the side. The evenings however remained reserved for working in the lab or the office, for chatting and overall for spending time with Snape. Their work was either of a more experimental nature these days, or consisted of basic tasks imposed on them by the school. At the same time they tried to slowly work their way through the almost countless ingredients they had gathered over summer, experimenting with different modes of preservation and use.

During the day however, Robin soon found herself with an underwhelming amount of work to do, while Snape was obviously busy, as were her roommates, and she often found herself already bored by noon. Four classes… it wasn't a lot, even if she read ahead and did her assignments more thoroughly than anyone could expect of her. So she picked up an old habit and read up on random things in her freetime, whenever she had seen enough plants and dead animals on dusty book pages for a day. Whether it was books and articles on the dark arts, ministry decrees and political dealings, or something as pathetic as Cas' collection of glossy magazines… Robin read anything she could get her hands on.

Surprisingly enough, there had been no further issues with Morgan after the welcoming feast as of yet, and he merely gave Robin poor grades one day and the highest scores the next, as if he himself couldn't even make up his mind about what the situation between them was supposed to be like now. He did throw Robin the most bone chilling glances at times though, full of yearning and hatred and craze that even the other students commented on occasionally, but that was it. Honestly, Robin was glad about it and she knew that Snape was too. As long as Morgan stayed subtle in his insanity, they wouldn't bother with him either.

In the third week of term, Dumbledore had invited Robin to tea indeed, like he had announced before the holidays, and Robin had accepted for the sole purpose of finding out more about what the man was playing at. Of course it hadn't been that easy though, it never was, and she had left his office no wiser in the end, and with more questions than she'd started out with. The headmaster truly was ineffable by default, a mystery she just wasn't able to solve and that grew more complicated the longer she pried. But it had been painfully obvious to her at least that he knew something he was keeping from her on purpose, something that wasn't as simple as a reason for ignoring the assault on a student. However she had quickly come to realise that if she called out Dumbledore for protecting Morgan, she would cut into her own flesh, seeing as he was protecting her 'ties' with Snape just the same. In a way, Robin had admired Dumbledore for getting her caught up far enough in his system of liabilities that she wasn't in a position any longer to call him out for his wrongs. She had become a threat to him somehow, or an unpredictable factor in his game at least, and he had easily put her on a leash to keep her under control. It was a brilliant move, to her disadvantage admittedly, but brilliant no less.

One good outcome of having tea with the headmaster was that Robin had been asked to occasionally assist the professors in a few of the more practical classes for the lower years, such as herbology and care of magical creatures, but not potions however, which Robin had taken immediate notice of and was honestly glad about. She couldn't imagine working with Snape as anything but equals at this point, and it probably wouldn't be the best idea to showcase just how close they were in their friendship in front of a class full of his students. But assisting the other professors from time to time when they needed a hand would certainly take some access time off her hands and perhaps prevent her from going through Cas' collection of YA novels next, and that definitely was a gain more than a loss. Maybe she could mention it in her CV at the end of the year, when she would be done with school and left to find a job to pay for a living. Gods, she had no idea what she would do then… she didn't even know what kind of job she could do at this point. But she still had a few months to figure that out after all, and for the moment, she preferred to remain in blissful ignorance of the more distant future.

… … …

Before long it was the middle of October, or more precisely, the nineteenth thereof. A day prior to Robin's birthday, and in remembrance of the last one, she actually found herself excited for it this year. Not because of presents she might or might not receive, she honestly still didn't care about that all too much, but mostly because she'd actually had such a lovely day last year, and she hoped that she would have an even better one this time around. Actually she was quite sure that she would, because for the first time in all her years at this school she wouldn't have Morgan's class on her birthday, which in itself was already a huge improvement to any other year before.

For days on end, however, Jorien and Cas had pleaded Robin to celebrate into her birthday together, if celebrating even was the appropriate word for spending the evening in their room together doing whatever it was the two girls were thinking of, and after days of hearing their begging, Robin had finally agreed on a compromise. That's why in the evening of the nineteenth, Robin found herself in a sudden hurry upon catching a glimpse at her watch at half past ten at night, and she finished her coffee in one big gulp in return.

"Are you alright?" Snape quirked an eyebrow at her in question, obviously startled by her sudden jump into action after hours of calmly sitting across from him with her legs crossed on the chair.

"No, I'm late!" She sighed in return and gave him an almost sad half smile. "I told you I promised the girls to spend the latter half of the evening with them for once, didn't I?"

"Right… I merely hadn't realised that it was quite so late already."

"I feel like I should be more excited for this evening than I am. After letting them pierce my ears last year, I'm honestly not sure what they will try to do to me this time, and I'm not all too eager to find out. Especially since they insist on staying up until after midnight."

"Most likely they simply want to spend the evening with you because they care. But you obviously believe that whatever they have planned won't be all too enjoyable for you."

"Would you like to spend an evening with two overly excited fourteen year olds who have been planning this evening for weeks?!" She asked with humour in her voice. She liked the girls, very much so… and she was happy that they cared about her enough to want to spend this evening together. But she also knew how overbearing they could be in situations like this, and how they had a very much different idea of 'fun' than she did herself.

"Actually, I would rather drink poison." Snape replied in absolute neutrality, and only when Robin let out a snort he allowed himself to smirk as well. "Good luck. You have my utmost sympathy."

"Thanks…" She groaned under her breath in exaggeration, then smiled and finally made for the door. "See you tomorrow morning?"

"Obviously. Have a good night despite their efforts, yes?"

"I'll try. However if I don't show up for breakfast tomorrow, you should start being concerned." She turned around to him once more, and a part of her wished she didn't have to go. "Have a good night yourself. Perhaps you could use the opportunity to actually go to bed before 3 in the morning, it might do you good to get some rest after that almost-explosion in class you mentioned."

Snape rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, making Robin smirk as she forced herself to leave the office at last. While she made her way down the hallway towards the dorms, she tried to recall when she'd last parted from him this early. She couldn't actually remember; usually it was way after midnight when they decided to call it a night. Returning to her room this early now just felt oddly wrong. But on the other side, the closer she got to her inevitable fate of whatever sleepover scenario the girls had planned, the more she actually felt happy at the prospect of spending some time with them. Whatever immature things they were going to force her into, she promised herself to try enjoying it at least. Who knew… perhaps they would surprise her.

The very moment she entered her room, she was already welcomed by the smell of tea and chocolate cake, mingling with the always lovely fragrance of a burning fire in the oven in the middle of the room. So far so good! While both girls immediately started complaining that Robin was two minutes late, she moved to drop her bag by her bed, then undid her robes and finally flopped down on her bed and caught a pause in their rambling to bring out her own apology. Her sincerely apologetic expression along with it obviously appeased the girls quickly enough, and they moved on without dwelling on her miniscule delay. Both of them were in their pajamas already, but they didn't give Robin an opportunity to change into hers as they ushered her onto the only empty bed and already pressed a plate of cake and a teacup into her hands, then sat down with her to enjoy their own. Admittedly, tea and cake in the middle of the night was as normal to Robin as reading before bedtime was to others, and thus she enjoyed the start to their little celebration more than she had anticipated. They chatted about nothing particularly important, mostly about the remarkable mishap of a student in their potions class that day, which Robin had already heard about from the other perspective. Getting a full picture now however proved to be highly amusing to her, and together with the cake and tea, she actually felt quite comfortable in the situation. Happy, even. Perhaps she had underestimated the girls' taste in having fun… they weren't kids anymore, after all.

She stayed in that mindset until right after tea, when she realized that they weren't kids anymore indeed, but something far worse. Teenagers. Because as soon as her plate and cup were out of her hands, Cas supplied them all with some odd kind of facial mask, which she plastered thickly onto Robin's face before the latter could even put her hair up. It really was a messy endeavour; sticky, weird smelling, dripping onto her clothes and getting stuck in her hair, which perhaps was more due to Cas' less than expertly way of applying it to Robin's face than because of the substance itself. Meanwhile Jorien decided that it was absolutely necessary to paint Robin's nails, luckily deciding that Robin would probably prefer black over the glittery blue she herself wore, and thus got started on that while Cas was still busy smearing the mask onto every path of Robin's skin she could find. It was a living hell on earth in a way, but Robin just let the girls do and actually found herself so very amused by it that she actually had to try not to laugh out loud. It was such a cliche thing to do, such a stereotypical situation… but she would let them dress her up as much as they wanted tonight, for it was humouring either of them after all. Robin just happened to be amused by it in a different way than the girls.

For quite some time they continued their work on Robin, and finally also on each other in such a practiced manner that it left Robin guessing if they did this regularly. She never was around in the evenings after all, she had no clue what their nights looked like. Before long it was almost midnight, and Robin was sitting on the shared bed again after she had been allowed to wash off the mask as good as possible once the girls had been sure that her nails were dry enough for that by now.

"Say, do you ever miss your best friend these days?" Jorien asked Robin out of the blue, after previously discussing something entirely different. "You said you spent all summer together, so… you must be pretty close."

"Of course I do, I always miss him when he's not around." Robin replied with a small frown, probably sounding as surprised by the inquiry as she felt. "Why the odd question?"

"Oh, you know…" Cas shrugged in feigned indifference. "We were just wondering if we should keep trying to find you a date, or if perhaps you aren't interested in a relationship because you already ARE in a relationship."

Robin's jaw dropped for a second, then her brows furrowed to act over her rising embarrassment. "I can assure you that I'm not in any relationship other than entirely platonic ones, but I'm still not interested in you finding me a date."

"Well, you aren't getting any younger!"

Now Robin just straight out laughed at them. "Guys, I will be eighteen in five minutes, not eighty! You don't have to push me into any kind of relationship just for the sake of it, I'm not interested in that kind of thing."

"But you are interested in something else?" Jorien quirked an eyebrow at her, a smug expression on her face as if this entire conversation had been one big trap for Robin to fall into. And she most definitely just had, going by the grins on both girls' faces.

"Look, this really isn't-..." She tried, but was cut off immediately.

"Oh come on! You can't tell us that in eighteen years of being alive you've never had a crush on someone. Not even YOU despise people that much!" Cas argued, and Jorien nodded her approval to the statement. "This is a girls' night, which obviously is something you haven't done much before, alright, but let me assure you that we are supposed to talk about boys now!"

"I don't know any boys other than my classmates." Robin shrugged. "And they're all idiots not worth talking about."

"But what about your mysterious best friend, then? Tell us more about him. About your summer together."

"I already told you many of the stories of what we experienced in summer. I even told you about some of it twice!"

"Yeah, but you never spoke of what happened between you and him, only about the things that happened to the two of you."

"Nothing happened between us! Why do you even want to know about that? I'm sure you have plenty of stories about Simon to tell… And hasn't one of his friends been oddly nice to you lately, Jorien?" Robin tried to change the topic, feeling more discomfort in the current situation than she had while they had 'beautified' her. Not only was it already difficult as it is to keep her existing friendship with Snape a secret, but the girls' prodding about what exactly she felt for him just made it almost impossible to keep her feelings locked up. Perhaps they didn't understand that… couldn't know that having a crush was entirely different from truly and desperately loving someone. Hell, even that had to be different for everyone, love surely didn't work the same for all people. Either way, Robin didn't want to talk about it. Not with them, and not with anyone else.

"You always say you speak the truth no matter what… and you insist that you never break your promises. So tell us straight out that you're not crushing on anyone, and we'll leave you be." Cas argued back, entirely ignoring Robin's attempt at a change of conversational direction.

"I swear that I do not have a crush on anyone." Robin insisted seriously, locking gazes with both girls respectively. "And I would very much appreciate it if we could use the one minute left before my birthday to talk about something else now."

"Fine." Cas sighed sadly. "I believe you. Too bad though, crushes are fun. I honestly don't understand why nobody ever asks you out, you're amazing."

"Change of topic, idiot!" Jorien hissed at her friend and nudged her in the side. "It won't do to make her feel unloved!"

"Oh, I feel very loved. You painted my nails and smeared goo on my face, what more could I want?" Robin gave them a teasing half smile, and the girls couldn't help giggling in return. "And I really appreciate the efforts you made to make this evening a small celebration. Thank you."

"Oh, but it's not even over yet!" Cas grinned, and scrambled off the bed, almost tripping over the way too long tracksuit bottoms she had probably borrowed (or stolen) from Simon. Poor boy… Cas really was a handful, but as far as Robin could tell, he really did like her a lot, and he was absolutely lovely to her. The thought made her smile, just when Cas jumped back onto the bed with a surprisingly large box.

Just in time, the clock hit midnight and both Cas and Jorien started singing a desperately off-key but very much heartfelt happy birthday, which made Robin smile even more. Yeah, she did feel loved indeed.

"Happy birthday, you old person!" Cas practically squealed at her, then dropped the box on the bed and wrapped Robin into a tight hug to which Jorien followed, and both girls together squeezed all air out of Robin's lungs, which she happily let happen.

"Happy birthday Robin." Jorien added in barely audible words that were muffled by Robin's blouse.

"Thank you guys. You really got me to start liking birthdays." She smiled, then frowned a little as the two still wouldn't let go of her. "You're not trying to suffocate me, are you? I'd like to make it to nineteen as well."

"Oh, sorry." Cas said, and both finally let go of Robin to sit back down in front of her. "It's just… this is your last birthday we're celebrating together like this. And we want you to remember it in the future."

"I most definitely will, don't worry."

"Good! But to help you with that nonetheless, we got you a different gift this year. Not jewelry for once." Jorien explained, while she handed Robin the large box in an almost festive gesture. "So you will remember us."

Robin already felt sad before she opened the box. It was true, this was her last birthday they would celebrate together. Or was it? "Just because it's my last year doesn't mean we won't see each other again afterwards, you know that, right?" She asked even before she opened the box. This was supposed to be a cheerful occasion, not one filled with sadness about a future that wasn't as depressing as they likely made it out to be in their heads. "Perhaps we can't celebrate my birthday for a while, but you won't be in school forever either. And there's no rule saying that I can't come and visit you guys on Hogsmeade weekends."

"That's true…" Cas sighed, and her smile quickly lost the sadness to it. "But right now you're still here in the first place, and you're the birthday girl. So open the present already!"

Rolling her eyes for show, Robin still obliged and took a peek first before opening the lid entirely at last. Inside, underneath a layer of colourful paper, lay a beautiful wooden picture frame that held a moving photograph of her little group of people. Jorien, Cas, Simon, his two friends who Robin had actually almost grown somewhat fond of at this point, and also Robin herself right in the middle. They were all seated in the great hall on both sides of the table, smiling into the camera.

"I remember this…" Robin heard herself saying in astonishment. "A classmate of theirs… what was her name again…"

"Patricia." Cas was quick to reply, and Robin's smile widened.

"Right… She asked if she could take a picture of us because we looked so happy. That was just recently, in the second week of term, wasn't it?"

"Yep. It actually was Simon's idea to give this to you as a gift." Cas went on to explain. "He got Patricia to make a copy of it for him, and Jorien and I got the frame."

"Thank you, honestly, this is… wow."

"We actually managed to leave you short for words for once, hell yeah!" Cas laughed, giving Jorien a high-five. "It's probably not the most extraordinary present, but-..."

"It's perfect." Robin was quick to interrupt. "There hardly are any pictures of me as an adult, other than those in the paper, and none at all of my friends. Nobody ever bothered taking a picture with me, least of all frame one with me in it, and I honestly love it more than anything else you could've given to me."

"You're most welcome." Jorien replied with a smile. "But a third of the effort was Simon's, don't forget that."

"I'll thank him too, first thing tomorrow morning. But now we should probably call it a night, it's gonna be a long Friday for you guys and I don't want you to lose any more sleep over me."

"Yes, mom." Jorien rolled her eyes with a snort. "Morning's gonna come no matter when we go to bed, you know. But Morgan's announced a test for tomorrow, so we probably should go to bed indeed."

"Great!" Cas clapped her hands, grinning. "Now that we're talking about tomorrow morning, or rather… today's morning anyway, I have something fun to tell you guys!"

"There's something fun you haven't told me about yet?!" Jorien fake-protested with a glare at Cas, while Robin moved off the shared bed and back towards her own, where she placed the picture frame on her nightstand.

"Chill, I was gonna wait for you to see it yourself, but it's just too funny not to tell you." Cas giggled to herself, and Robin frowned when she sat back down with the girls. When Cas found something funny it was usually at the expense of others, and that always should make one weary at least.

"Out with it now!" Jorien nudged her friend in the side to stop her from giggling, while Cas almost rolled off the bed just laughing to herself. "C'mon, don't do this to us!"

"Yes, fine…" Cas sighed, as she tried to regain some composure. "So you know how Parker is friends with Dave, and Dave is Martin's friend, and Martin is friends with Gideon."

"Get to the bloody point already!" Jorien groaned, and the only thing Robin had understood was Gideon's name, who was one of Simon's friends. The one who didn't fancy Jorien; that one was Michael.

"I was about to!" Cas rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Simon told me that Parker and his friends are setting up this practical joke for tomorrow morning, and it's going to be absolutely hilarious!"

"What's it about?"

"They will put salt into the tea and coffee for the head table, and charm it so that people will only taste it two seconds after drinking it!" Cas was back to giggling to herself. "Just imagine, all the professors spitting out their drinks!"

"That's horrible!" Robin replied instinctively.

"That's hilarious!" Jorien laughed at the same time, and all three girls looked at each other for a moment of hesitation.

"I think it's going to be bloody hilarious indeed." Cas finally sighed, and made her way over to her own bed at last. "Our entire class could need the laugh before Morgan's stupid test, and I think he's set one for the sixth year NEWT class for the afternoon, too. But Simon isn't taking defense classes anymore, so I don't particularly care."

"Yeah… it's gonna be great." Jorien smiled and made for her bed as well. "Especially since nobody can hold us accountable for it."

Robin stayed sitting on the empty bed for a moment longer and didn't say anything at all. Practical jokes weren't her thing in general, but this one just seemed absolutely childish and unnecessary. Sure, it wouldn't do any harm either, but still… knowing about it now left her in a position she didn't want to be in. She could tell Snape about it and prevent him from getting pranked, but on the flipside that meant she would betray the girls, in a way. And it would be painfully obvious that she had been the one talking, at least to Jorien and Cas and Simon. For a moment, Robin felt angry with Cas for putting her into this situation in the first place. Then again, the girl hadn't meant any harm, and probably only wanted to share something she thought would humour her friends. But geez, couldn't they have done this any other day?! This kind of predicament wasn't such a great start to her birthday…

"Robin? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just… thinking." She replied evasively and finally snapped out of her head, only to see the girls already all settled into their beds. "I think I'll take a shower before going to sleep, some of that goo is still stuck in my hair. I'll be quiet when I come back, as always. Don't wait up for me."

"Alright." Cas sighed softly, and even as Robin got up and made her way to her own bed, she could see the girl smiling. "You're gonna have an awesome birthday, Robin. Don't worry."

Robin returned a quiet hum, not wanting to lie nor to spoil their enjoyment of this complot, and then she quickly gathered her things to make for the showers. Once alone in the dark bathrooms, she first tried to scrub the goo out of her blouse so that she could wear it again tomorrow without any pinkish stains, and once that was accomplished half manually and half magically, she finally went to scrub the goo off herself under the steady stream of hot water in the shower. Really, as soothing as the water was, as soothing as the night was, she still felt torn about the situation with the practical joke. Why, just WHY did that one piece of information have to put an otherwise very entertaining night on the line like that?! If she was honest with herself, Robin knew what she was going to do. But she still felt bad about it nonetheless. Then again, she shouldn't! It was her birthday and besides that she was very much in the right to spare her best friend from whatever kind of agony he was facing unknowingly. Telling him was the right thing to do.

Once she was cleaned up and dry again, she put on her pajamas and twisted her still wet hair up into a bun to fix it with her wand like she did so often by now. Then she grabbed her things and was on her way back to her room, still in full determination that she would find Snape before breakfast tomorrow and warn him of the impending doom at the head table. But after she had silently stored away all her items and taken a seat on her bed, that plan of action was shaken with a start.

"Robin?" Jorien's whisper carried over to her so very quietly that she barely even heard it in the first place.

"Huh?"

"Can… can we talk? While Cas is sleeping."

"Yeah, of course." Robin was quick to reply, frowning to herself however as she motioned to the door before stepping out into the hallway herself, with Jorien following two seconds later. Only once the door was closed entirely, the girl came straight to the point.

"I don't want that prank to be played, Robin…" She said in a quiet voice for they still could be overheard, especially out in the dorm hallway at one o'clock at night. "And I know you don't either."

"You seemed to be quite fond of the idea just an hour ago…"

"I certainly don't need to tell you out of all people what an act is." Jorien rolled her eyes, but the almost pleading expression still remained predominant on her face. "Sometimes getting along with people just requires adaption, and if it's not gonna be sincere, then an act will still do."

"Consider me impressed in that case." Robin raised her eyebrows at the girl in surprise for a moment, then came back to the problem at hand. "But why do you tell me this?"

"I know there is some weird understanding between you and Professor Snape… and I'm fairly sure you will want to warn him in advance, probably tomorrow morning. You see, I would like to spare Professor McGonagall the unpleasant experience, too, if I can… I really like her."

"Right… I remember that." Robin sighed under her breath, and then was back to frowning to herself. "And yes, I'm going to tell Snape about it tomorrow morning. Would you like me to tell McGonagall as well? I'm sure I can find her before breakfast."

"See, there exactly is the issue. You can't tell anyone before breakfast tomorrow."

"You can't talk me out of it, I-..."

"I'm not trying to talk you out of it, Robin! I'm trying to tell you that you literally will not be able to talk to Snape before breakfast tomorrow, because there's this plan that Cas and Simon and I have made, because of your birthday, and we will be around you at all times before the meal. You understand what I mean?"

"You mean I won't have an opportunity to tell him without Cas and Simon knowing what I did."

"Precisely." Jorien nodded, then sighed. "I know you can do things like this… And you've done things like this before…"

"Out with it."

"You have to stop that prank. Please… I know you can do impossible things, and I know you have way more to say in this place than anyone else I know."

"I don't have anything to say around here, Jorien. I wish I did, and I wish I could just call that Parker kid out without any evidence, but if I'll be caught up in you guys' scheme from my waking point tomorrow, I don't see how I could prevent it from happening without putting a serious strain on my relationship with Cas, and on hers with Simon."

"I know it's complicated… But that's why I need you to take care of it!" Jorien almost looked like she might start crying any moment now, and honestly Robin found herself surprised by how much the girl seemed to care about her favourite professor. It wasn't something she had seen in anyone but herself before now. "Please, Robin… I know it's silly to be so upset about it, but I know that letting it happen would make you as unhappy as it makes me. That's why I told you that we have these plans for the time before breakfast. Maybe play surprised at least when we tell you about it again tomorrow morning."

"Of course…" Robin nodded, then sighed, and her mind was already working on a solution. "I'll do what I can to stop the prank, okay?"

"Yes! Thank you!" Jorien let out a long breath in obvious relief, then tired a half smile. "I mean, at least you can be sure that Snape is still up at this time of night, huh? You usually return from your work with him way later than this."

"Yeah…" Robin replied absentmindedly, tracing the scar on her neck with her fingers as she frowned ahead at the hallway. Perhaps it really wasn't the worst idea to find Snape now and save him from the joke at least, if she already couldn't stop the entire thing; Jorien was right when she said that one o'clock at night was still early for them. He certainly wouldn't mind another brief visit from her even at this time, especially if it was to his own advantage. And if Robin bargained correctly, she could get him to warn McGonagall in the morning indeed, which would keep her ends with Jorien sealed. It wasn't even such a big deal now that she thought about it, and a decent solution to the problem. Why hadn't she thought about that right from the start?

"Earth to Robin!" Jorien said in that moment, drawing Robin out of her freeze even at the quiet sound. "You're daydreaming again."

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about why I was once again being weird and trying to make things more complicated than they are."

"It's just who you are. But it always ends in something great, so don't worry about it. I should probably go back to bed now though, if I don't want to give myself away entirely tomorrow. You won't tell Cas that I actually hate this stupid joke, will you?"

"Of course not. I promise."

"Thanks…" Jorien sighed, then opened the door and waited for Robin to go in first, which however she didn't.

"You go to bed, I'll deal with the prank." Robin whispered to her, giving her an encouraging smile. "Goodnight."

"Night… And Robin? I love that you're weird, and so does Cas. Don't ever change that."

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apollos-son · 3 years

Text

✎ ❝You And I, It'll Always Be Us,❞

Rating ; 15+

Pairing ; Poly Ateez

Genre ; fantasy, adventure, fluff

Tags ; fluffy, lots of adventure, magic, illusions, some mysterious men in black fedoras gee I wonder who they could be...

Trigger Warnings ; blood, violence, lots of swearing, name calling, abuse, bullying

Summery ; In the heart of Seoul, eight supernatural men live semi-peacefully as they run through their day-to-day lives. They aren't fond of one another really, but that all changes as their red strings of fate are tied together by a mysterious force lurking in the shadows. This new connection sends them on a rollercoaster ride where they learn to love one another and fight for what's right.

I know this is unlikely but I do ask that you do not copy my work under any circumstances. Do not repost, translate or use my work without permission. Thanks :)

Smol tag list: @atiny-piratequeen , @leelovesatz , @catboy-dia , @btsheadquarters7

Before I begin this chapter I just want to let you all know that I do have autism, so I'm not writing San as having a neurological disorder when I do not have one myself,,, if those kind of things make you uncomfortable. I do struggle with autism and I think some of San's character will represent the struggles I have on a daily basis. I just thought I'd clarify that before I start talking about it.

<- last intro • next intro ->

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Sector One

"I Feel Familiarity When Our Hands Touch."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

c.sn . . .

It was almost midnight in Seoul and the soft, gentle music San usually danced to was still echoing through the halls of his home. His body moved fluently in time with the music and his features were calm and gorgeous. This was a very precious time of the night for him, and he would usually carries it out to forget about the day's struggles. The struggles of his lack of rights and his sorrows of loneliness.

"San-ah, I told you to turn that sappy shit off. Dance to something good or don't dance at all," a harsh voice came through the doorway of his room and he ignored the voice and the person who held it. "San," The voice repeated again. "San, stop dancing," he commanded. Finally, the harsh male steps further into the room and he grabs the smaller boy's arms in order to stop his dance. "You need to stop!" he called out and it caused the smaller boy to sniffle at him "Wh-Why are you yelling at me?" he whimpered.

The room stays quiet for a moment and the tall, harsh male lifts San's chin "I told you about doing ballet, San-ah, I told you that people would make fun of you for it," he spoke in a more quiet tone to appease the younger man and San nodded in understanding. "Then why do you still do it? You're a boy, not a girl," the man asked, almost in confusion. "I don't get why you're so aggressive about it, brother... It's something I enjoy doing, why do you hate me for what I like..?"

"No, San.... I don't hate you for doing ballet-" the other man tried but San shook his head "I don't want to hear your excuses, Cho.."

And once again, San pushed his brother out of his room, locked the door and broke down into tears. He turned his music off and laid on his bed, cuddling his stuffed animal closer to his chest. San was always made fun of in school for being a crybaby and being like a girl with the colours he chose to like and the things he chose to enjoy. It didn't help that he was autistic, too, which only caused the bullying to worsen. In adulthood, he moved in with his brother Cho to try and find more self confidence to do what he loved despite the ridiculing he received.

But Cho tried to do the same thing as everyone else. He only wanted to stop San from doing ballet and having stuffed toys, claiming that this was "protection" yet it never felt that way to San. It was far to harsh to be for his protection.

He didn't have any friends, mainly because of how "weird" he was and him being a hybrid, and spent most of his time dancing his feelings out in his bedroom. The only person he'd talk to on a daily basis was Cho. His days were unpleasant and his thoughts were only full of everything "wrong" with his personality. They called him too childish, too girly, too sensitive. And it just made him upset. The only other person he would talk to once every two weeks at least was Jung Wooyoung, a younger man in his dance class.

Wooyoung was kind yet sometimes he had the tendency to be a little too strong-willed at times. San liked him, but was too nervous to say anything to him. His phone made a noise and he turned over to look at the notification. How bizarre,, that was Wooyoung right now, texting him.

"Hey :)

I felt a little awkward talking to you at first but you seem cool and you're really pretty when you dance, let's hang out soon if you want?"

San's heart skipped a beat and his cat tail curled in excitement. He smiled for the first time that night. What a coincidence. Maybe he does have a chance at getting more friends after all!

From outside of the building he learned to dance in, a man in black stood near the entrance. He watched Wooyoung depart the building, phone in hand with a big smile. The man in black held the string firmly in his hand. The two were attached together by the red strings of fate. Perfect. Everything was running so smoothly.

#ateez #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ot8 #pirate au

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gummygoatgalaxy · 4 years

Text

Redesign for Ophelia!

Info about her below

~Info~

Age: 12

Gender: female

Species: welsh harlequin duck

Alliance: chaotic good

Talents: singing and drawing

Magic: ice magic, connected souls with Moonbeam

Likes: singing, drawing, eating, nature, her friends and fam, sleeping, video games, animals, reading, watching cartoons, cold weather, horror movies/games/stories, musicals

Dislikes: city life, crowds, loud and/or annoying/entitled people, hot weather, spicy things, loved ones hurt or upset, romcoms

Favorite color: all colors but mostly green

Favorite movie: The 1987 Chipmunk Adventure

Favorite show: Avatar the last Airbender

Favorite book: Warriors cat series

Favorite game: Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild

Favorite song: Man on the Moon by Zella Day

Favorite musical: Hamilton and Heathers

Disability: autism, depression, anxiety

Sexuality: panromantic demisexual and polyamorous

Partners: Moxxie Dreaming and Loki Amor

Best Friends: Moonbeam, Oliver Midnight, Laila Midnight, Moxxie Dreaming, Loki Amor, Satoria Flare, Erynn Cinnabon, May Tundra, Huey Duck, Louie Duck, Webby Vanderquack

Voice claim: Anna Kendrick as Poppy in Trolls

Description:

Ophelia Midnight is an orphan girl who was invited to live in the mansion under the care of Mrs. Beakley, after they learned she had no home, parents, and was nomading around to find safety. Now she lives in a huge mansion with her two boyfriends, new family and her soul bonded magic wolf guardian Moonbeam.

Appearance:

She is short, her size is 3'7" which is almost half as tall as Webby. She has heterochromia in her eyes, meaning one eye is light green and the other pale blue/green. Mid back length white hair and gray/black markings and a black beak and legs. She wears two gems on each side of her head, a gray/purple furry coat and pink/purple scarf, occasionally with dark gray boots, and under or without it is a wine red/purple dress with a lighter sash around the waist and a light purple choker necklace.

Personality:

sweet and bubbly, fiery temper, easily triggered, easily upset, loving, goofy, and protective, wild child

Relationships:

Moonbeam

Her and Moonbeam are closer than close, they have bonded souls after all! They’re connection happened when Ophelia was 4 and tried to save a dying wolf pup. She failed, but for her effort the wolf’s soul connected with hers and he survives as a physical spirit companion. She sees him as her brother and they are VERY protective of each other.

Oliver Midnight

WIP

Laila Midnight

WIP

Octavia Midnight

Octavia is Ophelia’s mother. Her and Ophelia were never very close but they loved each other all the same. Octavia passed due to a long term illness when Ophelia was 6 that had slowly grown on her, she left everything to Ophelia, but it wasn’t much.

Moxxie Dreaming

WIP

Loki Amor

WIP

Satoria Flare

WIP

Erynn Cinnabon

WIP

May Tundra

WIP

Louie Duck

She met him in the woods, after he had gotten separated from his brothers and had gotten lost. She found him and with her knowledge of Mount Neverest, which she had just arrived at to live in a cave but figured the layout out quickly, helped him back to his family. Soon the two would always be hanging out and snacking together, he showed her all kinds of technological things, like video games, movies, and tv.

Huey Duck

She met him after she found his brother and helped his brother return to his family. Soon the two of them would always be out in nature together and they would share they’re collective knowledge of nature with each other.

Webby Vanderquack

After being put under guardianship by Mrs. Beakley, her and Webby became like sisters! The two are inseparable! They share a since of need for adventure and excitement. Both are used to having been isolated from the world and understand each other pretty well.

Dewey Duck

Ophelia and Dewey are pretty close. They both love music and like to harmonize together. They like to tell each other jokes and goof around but not much else.

Lena Sabrewing

Her and Lena are super close. They both have magic and bad pasts, so they feel a sense of connection. Plus both have a bit of a dark side.

Violet Sabrewing

Her and Violet are really close. They like to discuss magic and nature and enjoy just reading and sitting in each other’s presence. When they need a quiet relaxing time, they tend to hang out.

Boyd Gearloose

Her and Boyd are buddies. She believes this precious bean must be protected.

Gosalyn Waddlemeyer

Her and Gosalyn are kinda close, they both have a sense of adventure.

Bentina Beakley

Ophelia sees Mrs. Beakley as her grandma! She calls her Grammy and loves to here about her past.

Donald Duck

Ophelia sees Donald as a father figure, she has never met her father and doesn’t even know his name. She loves Donald’s protective and caring nature and can understand him pretty well!

Della Duck

She sees Della as a cool aunt. She dislikes what she’s done in the past but believes people deserve second chances.

Gladstone Gander

He irritates her.

Fethry Duck

She loves to see all the cool creatures and listen to his ocean facts.

Scrooge Mcduck

She thinks of Scrooge as her great uncle! She admires Scrooge for all he’s done and thinks he’s really cool!

Matilda Mcduck

She thinks Matilda’s a little strange but loves her ideas.

Downy Mcduck

She thinks she’s the sweetest great great grandma ever!

Fergus Mcduck

He kinda scares her. But she knows he cares.

Goldie O’Gilt

She thinks she’s the coolest great auntie (sorta) ever!

Daisy Duck

She thinks of her as the sweet and beautiful auntie that is also kickass.

#my art #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #oc #my oc #ducktales oc #ducktales ducksona #ducksona #Ophelia Midnight #me

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themonotonysyndrome · 4 years

Text

The Holy Quintet in Twisted Wonderland!

While I was having a writer’s block for ‘A Modern Fairytale’, I complained to my friend and we chatted on Discord. I told her about TW and she asked me if TW ever gonna have an anime adaptation since Magia Record:PMMM had an anime after the game is released. We love the Madoka Magica series and since they’re some similarities between the two, I thought why not have the main girls (I haven’t watch Magia Record yet though I’m aware of the existence of Doppels) react to the world of TW?

For those who don’t know about Puella Magi Madoka Magica, here’s a brief summary: It’s basically an anime about cute magical girls fighting evils where absolutely nothing bad ever happened. Like, ever.

Anyway, hopefully by the time I’m done with this, I can get my flow back for my previous writings...

*Since the First-Years are 16, I aged up the Holy Quintet just to match.

Homura could’ve unleashed a thousand bombs and grenades onto the wretched white rat the moment she realise that they were no longer in Mitakihara City or even on Earth!

Her day has been going on so well, too.

Morning arrives with the same monotonous routine. It’s a new day and a new timeline which means a whole new planning she needed to do before the fated day. But that can wait after school.

The teachers and students followed their scripts perfectly. Homura deftly ignore the hallway where the History teacher would request her help carrying the journals for the woman’s next class, spin around before the clumsy girl from the class next door would spill her water bottle onto her and even freezing time to whisper into Hitomi Shizuki’s ear who is lingering outside their shared class; how she had been neglecting her dear friend Sayaka lately in favour of Kyousuke Kamijou, how unfair her treatment of Sayaka has been lately.

By the time recess roll by, Madoka is alone just like Homura planned. Sayaka is pulled away by Hitomi. It wasn’t hard to wait quietly in her seat before the other girl spotted her and asked if they could have lunch together.

Homura accepts without hesitation.

She let the hours went by at their own pace until the moon is high in the sky. There’s a Witch that has been causing quite a ruckus near the shopping district. One that Homura would have no problem killing on her own, but Kyouko found it first and not even a day later, Mami caught wind of it as well.

As the clock is about to strike midnight, the Holy Quintet are standing in front of the Witch’s Labyrinth; the back door of a luxurious shoe shop. Homura ponder on what was the connection of the shop and the Witch, before Kyouko suddenly declare to kill the Witch herself.

“Hey, I was the one who found it first! This kill is my right!” The redhead Magical Girl announced with a Pocky stick pointing sternly at them to back off.

“Shouldn’t we work together to stop the Witch? Tomoe-san mentioned that it’s strong...” Madoka softly countered. Kyouko’s loud voice didn’t scare her but since the prize is a Grief Seed, everyone wanted it. Madoka wouldn’t dream of rebuking her friends of it. Not when they dearly need it for their magic.

“I don’t want to add more to the fire, but if we work together, who’s going to claim the grief Seed?” Sayaka interjects, her hand up in the air as if they were in class. They haven’t transform for battle yet; it’d be a waste of magic to transform only to have half of them returning home later or search out for another Witch all night long if Kyouko won’t budge from this one.

Madoka, Sayaka and Kyouko all turn to Mami when she remains silent for too long.

“It can’t be help then.” Mami shrugs. “If Kyouko is adamant to kill this Witch, then we should leave it to her. She was the one to discover it after all.”

When Kyouko whoop and cheer, Sayaka went ahead to scold her. But their relationship had progress to a stage where they could banter easily with no hard feelings involve, so Madoka is at ease.

Homura, however, is not as it slightly deter from the script but she wisely keeps it to herself.

Homura’s day went wrong when Madoka sweetly offer, “I still have some Grief Seeds on me, so I’m more than happy to help Sakura-san out!”

“Madoka - ” Homura automatically begin, she would rather have Madoka reserve her magic but luckily Kyouko beats her to it.

“Aww, it’s fine Kaname-san. I’m a big girl, ya know? I can’t handle one Witch.” Kyouko assured her with a bright smile that’s enough to dissipate Madoka’s worries. “Beside, you guys have been working hard these past few nights hunting Witches. You guys deserve a break for once.”

“I can’t argue with that...” Mami ruefully reply. The girls all decide to leave this Witch to Kyouko’s capable hands and was about to make their way home (with Mami escorting them back even if she didn’t have to) when the door to the Witch’s Labyrinth suddenly flings open. Light, colours, myriad of voices and music flood out from the shop.

“D-Did the Witch realised we’re here already!?” Sayaka said through gritted teeth. The corrupted Magic that’s spilling from the door is overwhelming, trying to pull the girls inside.

“That can’t be!” Kyouko retort with her spear already in hand and stab to the ground to anchor her. Her other hand is gripping Sayaka’s to hold her steady in place. “A Witch only have absolute reign in its Labyrinth. Not in the real world!”

The Magic then began to slowly drag their feet towards the door. Madoka, who is the closest to Homura, touch her Soul Gem. Homura didn’t want her to fight, she’d rather deal with the Witch herself.

“Madoka, wait!” Homura shouted and lunge to grab her. Her Shield is already on her arm despite that she’s still in her school uniform. She just needed to freeze time and then -

“Now this is interesting. This doesn’t feel like a Witch’s magic at all.” Perch on top of the many lamp post and unbothered by the overwhelming magic is Kyuubey. The Incubator blink its pink, beady eyes before jumping down and landed beside Homura.

“You - You’re not needed here!” Homura hissed viciously.

“Look carefully through the door there, Akemi Homura. Doesn’t that look like a mirror?” Kyuubey instruct in a pleasant tone that irked the girl.

“What are you - ”

“Akemi-san, look! There’s a mirror!” Mami’s urgent voice snapped Homura to attention.

Indeed. There’s a black mirror inside the shop, floating in air.

“Is that how the Witch noticed us!?” Kyouko is already brandishing her spear to throw it straight through the mirror.

Before any of the Magical Girls could do anything, the mirror forcefully yank them towards it and swallow them whole. Silence descend on the streets.

Homura fought to stay awake but the magic lull her to close her eyes and sleep.

“Did.. did a mirror just appear from the ceiling and spat out... girls?” An unfamiliar, incredulous voice was what stirred Homura up. Something feels off.

When Homura open her eyes and realise that she and her friends are surrounded by people in strange robes staring at them as if they were aliens, a man wearing a mask and a mirror with a green face floating in it, she immediately went for the offence.

She withdraws a gun from her Shield and aim straight at the masked man standing beside the mirror, her eyes never waver away from the crowd in robes in front of her. With a quick glance underneath her, Madoka and the rest are still unconscious before focusing on the enigma of this world and something in her whisper that she should hold the masked man accountable.

“Where are we?” Homura demanded in the calmest voice she could muster, her finger is light as a feather against the trigger. The scripts has gone completely off the rail. “Who are you people?”

“Well now, I think that would be my question!” The masked man rebuked. Homura’s ears picked up the dumbstruck and lividness in his tone. “Really... a mirror suddenly summoned in the middle of the dorm sorting ceremony and you girls interrupted it!”

A bullet wheeze past by the masked man’s head, only grazing a lock of his hair. Just like that, the crowd is silent. Finally realise the strange and uneasy atmosphere that curtains them, courtesy of one Magical Girl.

“I won’t ask again.” She threatens. Her eyes narrowed when a few of the people in front of her shifted. A short boy with red hair and a bespectacled boy with a beauty mark on his lower lip. She studied them warily and they did the same towards her. The fingers twitch to a small... pen? The red and grey gems will become her targets if they so much as move.

“Geez... the situation suddenly turn dangerous.” A voice said through a floating tablet. He sounds meek and scared.

Murmurs follow soon after. She's losing control on the situation.

“Well?” Homura pressed and this time, she aims the gun right between the masked man’s eyes. Adults in strange coloured clothings that stood behind the mirror with the green face slowly tried to separate Homura from the crowd. Their expressions severe and cautious.

They don’t feel like familiars. This strange room doesn’t feel like a product of a Witch’s magic. What’s worse, Kyuubey is nowhere in sight.

“Young Miss, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here but you’re in the prestigious Night Raven College. Did you and your friends forcefully unlock your coffins?” The masked man asked, with his hands on his hips like a scolding parent yet tentative when addressing Homura after her warning shot.

“Night Raven... College? Coffins?” Homura repeated, growing confused by the minute. She’s never heard such institution before!

Her gun lowered slightly when she caught pieces of conversations floating from the crowd.

“... a mistake? Night Raven College is an all-boys school after all.”

“We woken up every first year students before coming here. There’s no way we could missed them!”

“So they somehow broke out from the coffins on their own earlier?”

“...that in her hand? It looks some kind of weapon but I’ve never seen anything like it...” That came from the floating tablet.

“It happened so fast that headmaster couldn’t even react! Whatever that thing is, it’s dangerous.” The short redhead boy added, his fingers nearly brushing his red gem now.

“Where is Mitakihara City?” Homura asked instead.

The masked man titled his head at her question. “Mita... what? There’s no such city with a name like that. Did the mirror where you came from malfuction? And what’s with your clothing, Young Lady? Is that supposed to be a school uniform?”

This is bad. Nothing makes sense. “Students of this college would already be wearing their ceremonial robes the moment they step out of their coffins.” The masked man continued, oblivious to Homura’s concern. The other Magical Girls remain sleeping. It’s up to her to get them out safely or try to figure out what’s going on.

This couldn’t be the incubator’s game.

Homura pulls her gun back and relax her shoulders just a little. Enough to show that she’s calm and not going to attack any time soon. “A college you say? My friends and I were forcefully pulled in through a mirror and then I woke up here. Tell me, are we even on Earth?”

Now the masked man is perplexed. “Earth? I’ve never heard such a word before! Why, this is Twisted Wonderland!”

Homura bit her lower lip to prevent herself from calling the masked man out as a liar. She doesn’t have any prove or any information that the man is joking after all.

Homura comfort herself by tugging on her magic and grip her gun. Good. She still has her full arsenals and useful items as well as her magic is in its peak form.

Her mind is racing now. If one wants information, one must offer their piece first, yes?

“I believe there’s been a... mishap. My friends and I aren’t from here. We came from a place call Mitakihara City. Twisted Wonderland doesn’t exist for us.” Homura begins. That should suffice for now.

The floating tablet floated near Homura although there is still some distance between them. “A-Are you serious!? A bunch of girls literally isekai’ed into Night Raven College!? I can’t believe this is actually happening! My manga is a reality!”

Homura is taken aback at the sudden enthusiastic voice. Truly not expecting a 180 from his previous meek tone.

“Eh? Another world? Did you and your friends came from another world!?” A white haired boy with ruby eyes intervenes. Despite how odd the situation is now that he said it out loud, he’s excited about the notion.

“It would seem so...” Homura murmus. If this is meant to be a college then the crowd must be students and adults here are their teachers. There’s magic lingering in the air. It’s unfamiliar to Homura but it’s magic nonetheless.

“The sorting ceremony must continue on.” The mirror with the face boomed. Its voice deep and unsettling. The masked man react accordingly to it.

“Yes, yes, we musn’t dawdle! Now then Young Miss, if you’d be so kind to help bring your unconscious friends here beside me so that the others students could - ”

“Step forth you who have mastered time and space.” The mirror with the face ordered.

Another silence descend the room before the white haired boy with red eyes shattered it.

“So they ARE students! This is so exciting, isn’t it Jamil? We never had students from another world before!” The boy exclaim with a beaming smile. Somehow, his smile reminded Homura of Madoka’s when she’s in a really good mood.

“We still don’t know what’s really going on, Kalim.” A boy with complex, braided hair chastise him. Though it doesn’t deter his friend’s excitement at all. “After all, she was willing to attack the headmaster.”

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding! Won’t you be confused and scared too if you’re suddenly teleported to a strange land, Jamil?” The white haired boy countered before shooing Homura to the mirror behind her. “Go see what the Mirror of Darkness has to say! Maybe it could help you.”

The masked man sigh. “I guess it can’t be help. Young Miss, please address the mirror properly.”

Homura tucked the gun back into her Shield and slowly turn around. The mirror with the face doesn’t strike fear in her like Kyuubey or Walpurgisnacht do, so she slowly padded towards it.

And thus begin the Holy Quintet role as students in the world of Twisted Wonderland right after each one of the girls has been sorted.

The next continuation will be dorm sorting! It was a little tough trying to sort 5 of them when there are 7 dorms but I have a idea how to get around this. Hope I did Homura justice and you guys enjoyed this piece. I adore crossovers!

A big shoutout to @twsted-caramel (I hope it’s ok to tag you here) for giving me the big inspiration. Please check out their crossover of KNY and TW pieces! It’s amazing!)

#twisted wonderland #puella magi madoka magica #puella magi holy quintet #crossover #Holy Quintet series in TW

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 1

Hello all, I come before you with another chapter of Midnight Striga. Just to let you know, this chapter will mark a shift in the tone of the story. While this shift will not apply to every chapter, and certainly not every scene, things will now move a bit differently. Thank you.

With a sigh, Amity Blight, scion and heir-apparent to Blight Industries, tied back her hair into its usual short tail. And at that, she had officially completed her preparations for today, the day of the Covention. There, she would be presented by her Tutor, Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith, as a standard of excellence. While normally Amity didn’t particularly care to be used as a living advertisement, for a position as prestigious as the Emperor’s Coven, it honestly brought a small smile to her face, a sign that her skills were being acknowledged. Nothing like her mother’s annoying “Private Sales” she had to put up with.

A ding caught her attention. Turning to her scroll, she read off the new message.

Hope it goz great!! Gonna be watching, you rule!!! ~Skara

Amity allowed a soft smile to cross her face. She was surprised, pleasantly so, how much hers and Skara’s relationship had grown. A girl she had originally written off as a mean-spirited bully actually had a lot of depth to her; sure, she was catty, she could be bratty, and was an absolute gossip machine, but she was bright, funny, and always willing to help her. If Amity knew of a way to head back in time, she’d probably try and talk herself out of pushing away Skara. She frowned. Maybe if she had been a better friend to Skara, or at least tried to be a friend at all, Skara wouldn’t be so broken up over Boscha.

Amity scowled at the thought of the three-eyed Witch. She had never had a high opinion of the other girl, she honestly had a high enough opinion about herself for the entire city, but that day, any respect she may have harbored for her died in flames. She snorted at the thought, remembering those strange flames Boscha had been throwing around that day. She had heard the story from Skara, that Boscha wasn’t in her right mind; frankly, Amity didn’t care. Boscha had always been a certain level of difficult, but Skara owed the girl nothing, and still defended even her worst actions.

Boscha was lucky she had been avoiding everyone for the last few days; otherwise, Amity would’ve personally informed her of her… displeasure. Still, today was an important day for her future, no reason to ruin her mood thinking about painful things. Yet, Amity couldn’t help but have her mind wander back to that day; she had humiliated herself, acted rashly, and most likely ostracized herself even further from Willow, and she offended someone she had never even met before because she couldn’t control herself.

Amity’s eyes narrowed. That human girl was an oddity; her kind were not from the Demon Realm, so how did she get here? How did she stop Boscha’s rampage? Amity needed to know. The next time they met, while she would certainly apologize for her conduct, she wasn’t walking away without a guarantee to get answers.

Chomping down on her lighter’s flame, and wasn’t that still a weird thought, Boscha languidly ambled along, having gotten up and ready early so she wouldn’t have to interact with her parents. The Covention was today, one of the biggest events of the year, especially for Hexside Students. Boscha scoffed. She had never really gotten what the big deal was; before, her future was set on the image of being a professional Grudgby player, so the whole Coven thing was an annoying distraction at best. Even now, when she felt lost inside, she didn’t get the full appeal.

Although… she would admit to being rattled from her confrontation in the rain. A shudder crawled up her spine as she recalled the Owl Beast, it’s Witch-like face twisted into an animal’s leer. If something like that came to those who defied the Coven System, not that she necessarily believed it, then she would try to toe the line a bit, at least in public. But, when she recalled that fight, the way her blood pumped, her heart raced, the heady scent of fire filling her nose, she couldn’t fight the feral smile that crawled across her face.

Boscha wanted to fight again. It was something she just knew she had to do. Just thinking about it, the threat of violence and the clashing of strength and skill, made her feel so alive!! But… the screaming would come back if she fought for real, she knew it. She could even hear it now, the screaming, the accusations. Boscha slapped herself, forcing her mind away from the thoughts that were coming.

Still, it was a new day, something she should make the most of. She should probably check out the Covention today, if only to keep word spreading that she was a no-show. She couldn’t help but feel worried though. Would Willow be there? Would Amity? ...Would Skara? Biting her lip, Boscha trudged along, lost in her thoughts, heedless of the eyes in the shadows tracking her every move.

Eda sighed, bored out of her Titan’s damned mind. Business was slow today, but she couldn’t risk the possibility of missing out on a sail, even if it meant having to put up with Luz and King reading those Titan awful books. Seriously, that flowery language was a disgrace to magic!! But… she couldn’t ruin their fun, not after that night. She had just gotten the house all back together, to Hooty’s relief, and Luz had been making sure she had her potion taken every morning before she did anything else. It was sweet of her, if annoying.

Now if only she had something to get through this stupid BOREDOM!!! She let her mind wander to her newest tenant, one who had been rapidly worming her way into Eda’s jaded heart. She wasn’t sure how, but the kid had managed to eek out a soft spot with her, much to her bemusement; maybe it was the little hints of something not being right, the way she clammed up about her past, the oddly large collection of magic books and texts, or the strange injuries she had that, while healed over, seemed to weigh on her at times.

The kid had secrets, and had shared barely nothing about them, but Eda wasn’t one to pry. But if those secrets got her hurt, then even if it made Luz hate her, she’d pry them out and do everything she could to keep Luz safe and hearty. ...Titans, she was going soft!! Better prepare a crime to keep herself nice and tough.

Hello, it looked like they’d have a customer after all! If she wasn’t mistaken, it was that one kid, the human fanatic that came around every so often, what was his name… Goops? Whatever.

“Welcome!” She cheered, putting on her most customer friendly voice. Her eyes scanned the two, taking note of the details, specifically the lack of uniforms even though it was a school day. A chill ran up her spine. “What can I interest you two fine Witchlings in today?” Maybe she was hamming it up a little, but she needed something, dang it!

“Um, actually, Miss Owl Lady,” The girl, a stout thing with a friendly look to her, a noticeable amount of fearful respect in her eyes. Normally, Eda would’ve found it amusing, if she didn’t now have a better understanding of WHY Witchlings looked at her like that. She was going to have words with Lily next time they met. “We actually came to see Luz?”

“Yeah! I would normally LOVE to buy one of your treasures,” The Goops kid said with his usual enthusiasm, if not tinged with disappointment. “But we really have some awesome news to share with Luz!!” He certainly rebounded quickly, Eda would give him that.

Eda opened her mouth to reply, only to close it as Luz came walking up, King trotting at her heels. He was doing that weird breathing thing again, something that helped with those crazy spells of his, and wasn’t that a thought! “Hey, Hexsiders!” Luz smirked cheekily as she walked up. “Willow, Gus, what brings you two here? Isn’t it a school day?” She asked.

“Nope, not today!” Willow cheerfully said, Goops nodding along beside her. “The Covention’s today!!” Ugh, that thing!? No wonder the market was abandoned.

“What’s a Covention?” Luz asked, looking confused, and just a bit bored. Eda was never so proud to see a child wilfully dismissive of authority before!!

“It’s when the Covens put on a big expo to show everyone what they can offer!” Gus cheered. He settled down a bit for his next. “We were wondering if you wanted to come with us?”

And there was the moment Eda needed to start intervening! “Oh no!! No tenant of mine is ever going to set foot in that den of conformist propaganda! Coventions are for people who have no ability to question their lot in life and blindly accept whatever crap that authority spoon-feeds them.” She stated firmly. At the affronted looks of the two kids, and Luz’s own flat look of disapproval, Eda huffed, but relented a little. “No offense to you two.” Hey, she wasn’t going to completely back down!

The girl, Willow, Eda thought, shook it off. “Well, maybe coming will help convince you to find a coven to join!” She said trepidatiously, giving a hesitant smile. Now, ordinarily, Eda would’ve used a spell to mess with her for saying that, but after learning what she had about her reputation… she decided to go with a gentler touch.

Eda sighed. “Look kid, there is no possible way I will ever join a Coven. Even if they forced me, I would literally rather die than be in one,” She stated bluntly, steadfastly ignoring the shocked looks her statement provoked. “I don’t know exactly what you kids have been told about me, not fully at least, but there is nothing a coven can offer me that I might want.”

“B-but a Coven gives you a place to belong!” Goops exclaimed.

“Already got one, it’s called my house.” Eda replied, checking her nails.

“It helps you make friends!” Willow followed up.

“I can do that without a Coven, and the kind of people who would be friends with me wouldn’t care if I was in one or not.” Eda said, summoning a file.

““B-But, But!”” The kids stammered.

“Look.” Eda snapped lightly, trying to hold in her temper. “I don’t need to be in a Coven. I am happier without one, and I always will be happier without one. I’m not gonna force my beliefs onto others, however much I might want to sometimes, so the least you two could do is respect mine, okay?” She finished softly. The two meekly nodded.

“I think we should go.” Luz offhandedly mentioned, piping up for the first time since the back and forth started.

“””What!?””” The three shouted, Willow and Gus in glee, Eda in shock.

“Yeah, we’ve got nothing better to do,” Luz shrugged, gesturing to the abandoned market around them, before continuing, “And it gives me an opportunity to check out more of the Isles. And Eda, are you seriously gonna pass up the chance to shake down a bunch of Coven Stands for everything you can get?” She grinned, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“Using my pride against me, eh?” Eda mused, before snapping her fingers. “Ah nuts, you sold me. But,” she drawled, shooting a look at the two Witchlings, “Absolutely no talk of convincing me to join a Coven, got it?” She said gravely, getting rapid nods from the two. Eh, Eda was willing to milk her worse-than-realized rep for as long as she could.

As the group set off, they were utterly ignorant of the rustling in the trees behind them.

A bloody scream ripped through the Guard’s throat. Why was this happening!? He was just doing his job!! Did these psychos not realize who they were challenging going after a guard like this??

“Quiet.” A gravelly voice, like stone shattering and scraping against steel, drawled from the dark, twisting the knife stabbed into the guard’s ribs. He screamed again, only to be cut off by a hard slap against his mask, so strong he felt his jaw loosen. “We don’t want to hear a peep from you unless it is to answer our questions.”

“DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT YOU’RE DOING!?” The Guard demanded, fighting through the pain. “I am a member of the Emperor’s Coven!! If my body turns up with obvious signs of torture like this, the Coven will rip you to shreds for trying to challenge them!!” There… maybe that would get them to comprehend their position!!!

The shadowed group paused, as if in contemplation of his words. Then, one of them snickered, then another, and another. And the entire crowd, a veritable army really, started laughing to the heavens, as if what he had said was the funniest joke in the world, fit only for the Titan’s ears.

“Gilihihihihihi!!” An oily, sickly voice laughed from the shadows. “As if any of these backwater weaklings could challenge us?” A note of hysterical madness crept into the stretched out figure’s voice, when suddenly, his long thin arms darted forward. For a moment, the guard didn’t realize what had happened, until a familiar wetness dripped down his palm. He screamed. Giggling, the figure stretched his hand out of the shadows; resting in his palm, were four of the guard’s severed fingers, ripped directly off his hand. The figure lightly tossed the digits up and down… and threw them back down his gullet, a sick laugh ripping out of his throat after he finished swallowing and chewing the bits.

“Now, now, we need him alive to answer our questions, gentlemen.” Another voice peaked out of the dark, this one smooth, polite, and as cold as the coldest nights on the Knee. “We wouldn’t want him to feel stubborn enough to deny us, now would we?” The cold voice chided, getting solemn nods from the other two figures nearest to the guard, almost like children being scolded by their parent. “Now, my good man, we’ve been at this for hours! You’ve resisted our attempts at bribery, even spat into the faces of my soldiers. Why, we even had to remove that left eye of yours to make you realize we weren’t bluffing!” He proclaimed, holding up the eye in question, the guard’s own familiar tawny coloring staring back at him. The figure bent down, smirking. “Now, just tell us what we wish to know, and your suffering will come to an end, okay? Otherwise…” he sighed, gesturing to the chuckling figures behind him, many hoisting up cruel instruments, such as hooks and skinning knives, all aimed towards him. “We’ll have to use you as a message for the next guard.” He finished ominously.

“N-next!?” The guard whimpered, finally realizing they were willing to kill him, to torture him to death for what they wanted to know. And just like that, all the wind left his sails, his resistance crumbled. “I’ll tell you.” He whispered. “Anything I know. Ask away. If I know, I will tell you.”

“Good.” The figure smirked. As he rapidly rattled off his questions, gesturing to his cohorts to record the guard’s answers, his smirk grew more and more as the guard answered in detail. About the Covention. About the special guest. About all the people who came to see it. About what it meant for the Emperor’s Coven. “Thank you, my good man.” He sincerely stated. Then, without preamble, he slashed his dagger across the guard’s throat, relishing the shocked horror and betrayal as the life fled his eyes as his blood poured down his front. He could even divine the question. Why? “I said your suffering would end.” He whispered to the soon-to-be-corpse. “I never said you would live.” And with that, a look of utter despair coated the foolish guard’s eyes… and they turned lifeless.

Tossing his knife to the figure who had eaten the guards fingers, ignoring the sound of the blood being licked off the blade, he calmly ordered his men to move, the large group mobilizing around him. As they exited the dilapidated castle they had appropriated from the recent demise of that rotten Octopus, he grinned in satisfaction as strategically placed flames went off, consuming the structure, and any trace he and his organization were ever there. ‘We shall devour this world.’ He thought, chuckling darkly. ‘And not even their precious Titan and Emperor will be able to stand against us.’

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #amity blight #luz noceda #gus porter #willow park #eda clawthorne #boscha the owl house #trigger warning violence #trigger warning torture #magic

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g--r-e--e-n · 4 years

Text

The Date

Pairing: Leviathan x MC

Warning: There's a mention of self destructive thoughts, but the story does not revolve around that and you can easily skip it, so don't worry. It's not really angst, not yet.

A/N: It technically is way past midnight so I'm late for Obey me! MAX, but Mammon's piece took longer than expected and I had to do some research for this, mainly for the places and trying not to make Levi too OOC. It's hard. But I hope it's not too bad!

You both were siting in front of the screen, laughing maniacly and getting lost in the bluish light that slowly ate up the room. No sorrow, no insecurities, nothing bad could go through Levi’s door. Dang, it even took YOU a long time to be accepted.

“Oh, C’mon!” Levi complained, as half of the screen turned red. “You are just pressing buttoms at random! It’s so not fair!”

You softly chuckled, leaving the controler in front of you and slowly resting your head on the demon’s shoulder, as you had learned to do when he felt the slightless of envies. You hated when you saw him eating himself all over, thinking how life was so unfair, how he was only a yucky otaku. After all, he was so beautiful in your eyes you couldn’t help but stare.

His orange eyes barely reflected the screen, his soft hair barely covering them. His face was redder than anything you had seen before, and together this all reminded you of the beautiful coral reefs you had only seen in movies.

“Oh, come on Levi, don’t be a sore loser” You softly tease him, softly caressing his hair, his smile betraying his superficial annoyance. “You owe me something, don’t you?”

He soon sighs, closing his eyes and leaning a bit towards you, hoping to enjoy some love before having to leave. Why did you have to convince him so easily?

“Do we really have to do it..? It’s so comfy here…” He complays, reaching for your hand. You couldn’t help but feel certainly proud seeing how comfortable he was eventually getting around you, even if all he did was play with your fingers, probably to trick you into staying a bit longer.

“No way” you soon stood up, leaving him frowning and staring at you like a lost puppy. “Levi… You know I love our game dates. But when was the last time you stepped out of the house? You need some fresh air, dear.”

Levi didn’t even bothered answering, simply looking sideways. It wasn’t the first time you had this conversation, but you did not know how else to show your concern. Sure, at times you too felt too lazy to leave, too comfortable playing with your dear boyfriend to pay attention to the outside world, but there’s a certain limit. Demons might resist this situation better than human beings, but you are pretty certain it’s not too good either, not only for his body, but for his mind.

You felt proud whenever he spoke to Solomon, but you knew the exchange program would finish sooner or later. What would Levi do then? Of course he talks to his brothers, but they are busy with their own problems most of the times. He doesn’t have clasmates, he doesn’t have any sort of acquairance.

You understood his anxiety. But it was such a shame to see how such an amazing creature wilthed by itself. It’s not like you wanted to get him directly to meet people. Just… Outside. To see the beauty of this land he’s too used to to appreciate like you, a newcomer, do. Discover that he can live what he reads about in manga. That he can experience what his favorite character in his new anime is going through.

Still, you didn’t want to push him too much, so you simply sighed.

“Alright, alright. It’s fine, let’s give it another go.” You tried your best to erase any concern from your voice, but he would not fall for something like that.

“It’s fine.”

“What?”

“I-It’s fine. Doing normie stuff and all. But just this once!”

You blankly stared at him for a few seconds, your eyes lighting up, making him feel like he was about to go blind from the sheer beauty you so unkowingly holded.

“Just you wait! It’s going to be the best date ever!” You excitedly scream, before launching yourself for a tight hug, a grin so big on your face that you felt your cheeks slightly aching, poor Levi struggling not to fall. “What do you think about Siren Coast?”

You couldn’t see his face, but the way his arms tighten around you was enough to know his face had just lighten up. No fancy restaurant, no crowded streets, no awkard situations, and, what’s more, close to water and it’s somehow relaxing roar.

“Woah! Really??” He spoke a bit too loudly next to your ear, not that you minded him that much really, but at least you decided to let him go a bit, enough to see his smiling face. God, was he really thinking you would get him shopping or something? Maybe it was the way you were firmly staring at him dead in the eye, or the closeness of your body but he soon seemed to combust yet again. “Not that I want to go or anything!”

“I mean, we could always go to the mall” you shrugged, failing at keeping a smirk from your lips.

“Ah, no! I was kidding, kidding! I take it back! Let’s go!” He pulled you into the hug again, tightly, and you didn’t take too long to actually respond to his affection, even if you wanted to leave the room so badly. He was lucky to have a beautiful and fairly big room, but it didn’t help when what you really wanted was to go out.

“Alright, so… Let me get us some lunch, alright?” You said as softly as possible, pushing him away so delicately it almost felt like a caress. “Is there something you fancy?”

He softly sighed when you pulled away, obviously missing your touch, but at least taking your words into consideration, making you smile ever so tenderly.

“I made some sweets yesterday, while you were at RAD. I told Beel it was Mammon who cooked them, so they should be safe. And we can always stop by Lament on our way, right?” He proudly smiled, like a child waiting for praise, screaming how amazing of a boyfriend he was. Of course you obligated, caressing his cheek sweetly. Honestly, the sense of accomplishment on turning Levi’s baking from an occasional thing to something he genuinelly enjoys doing when his eyes are too tired to continue with his marathons is something you’ll bring to your grave, even if it took way more cooking series than you thought would even exist.

“What have I done to deserve you?” You didn’t allow your words to hang around for too long, knowing they had sinked in as soon as they left your mouth. “Alright, do you want to get changed, pretty boy? Or should we get going already?”

“No, I’m fine to go” He noded happily, barely hidding his obvious excitement. Going out might me a lame thing normies do, but right now it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. You didn’t know wether to be concerned because of his quick change of opinion or rather glad he is willing to actually hang out. “I mean, if you want to…”

You softly shake your head, offering him your hand to stand up. He hesitates a bit, but finally takes it. Both of your hearts race slightly, cheeks softly blushing to a lovely shade. You may have come a long way as for accepting physical affection, but it looks like you never truly got over it, still too drunk in this weird sort of puppy-love you really didn’t want to dry anytime soon. It doesn’t seem that any time has passed at all really, both of you as dorkish as ever.

But it was fine. Everything was fine when you were with Levi, his mere presence being more than enough for you to feel the soft warmth spreading on your chest.

You barely leaned a bit towards him, starting to walk away from his room, making sure he doesn’t get too sentimental waving goodbye to Henry 2.0. It’s hard to believe this very adorable dork was ever in any sort of war, and you were dying for every bit of it, for keeping him just as safe as he was keeping you. He had gone through enough.

“Alright, Levi, that’s it. That is NOT the Henry you should be focussing on right now” you complained, dragging him by his sleeve rather than his hand, knowing you had to be a bit rough.

Leviathan, to your surprise, softly chuckled. Being the avatar of Envy could be nice at times. Times like this, when he could tell how you heart ached to be the one and only for him. To some degree, it calmed him down. He always tended to be the jealous one, glaring daggers at you when you hanged out with Mammon or decided to go shopping with Asmo. Knowing that you, too, felt the same way lighted up his little heart. Reminded him that you could’ve chosen any creature in the universe and, still, decided to give him, a good-for-nocing otaku, the right to spend such precious moments with you.

Of course he wouldn’t admit any of this outloud, and decided to simply complain as you dragged him to the kitchen, barely managing to make Lucifer stick his head out of his room to hush you both before quickly going in. He was so done, but both of you couldn’t help but laugh like the fools in love you were, raising chaos happily, the wicked days long behind your backs.

Soon you had reached the kitchen, and levi opened the fridge like a treasure chest, soon grabbing some foil-wrapped goods.

“Behold!” He proudly removed the foil, allowing you to see some sort of pink pastry shapped like a flower. You soon recognized it “You normie might not appreciate this, but this is…”

“This is the candy magical girl Ringo made in the second season of 'I used to be a very powerful demon but I somehow got hexed by some witches and turned into a middle school girl and at first I was surprised but now I kinda like it and have started an occultist club but now it has turned into some sort of bakery club and I was really confused but the girl I like really adored candy so it's ok I guess'"

Levi actually blinked a few times before the "WOOAAAAH!!" you knew so well crawled through the air.

"You remember it?!"

"Well, you made me watch it like... A million times. And it was kind of fun" you shrug it off, struggling not to smile at the close call. Being fair, it was not the show itself what caught your interest, but rather Levi's passionate ramblings about it.

"You're the best player 2 ever! Are you some sort of angel?" You could see the slight blush on his cheeks, the happiness shining in his eyes as he got the lunch ready to carry. Usually people would treat his ramblings as background noise, so seeing that you actively cared for his interests, making him feel special, was the best thing he could ask for. God, he questioned your taste with men, but was he glad your standards somehow fitted him. "Now, let's go! I'll get you this super nice bufo milk tea flavour I've seen online to celebrate, alright? But don't you let it get to your head!"

"Aye, sir!" You brought your hand to your forehead, imitating the military, before letting go a soft chuckle. "Do you mind it if I hold your hands today?"

Levi hesitated. He wasn't always in the mood, and that's the exact reason you felt the need to ask. He was all for cuddling while playing games, in private, but the outside world was a completely different case. However, today he seemed to be feeling as generous as ever, as he shyly extended his hand, eyes focusing on a seemingly very interesting corner of the kitchen, his face pink like a peony.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. Not like there's that much people outside today, either way"

Not like he was proud to have you by hid side. Not like you managed to calm him down when the situation got rough.

You carefully took his hand, slightly cold, within yours, before walking away from the house and brothers, yearning for some fresh breeze.

It was a peaceful walk, always picking routes with as little people as possible, partly because of how much did social situations exhaust Levi, partially because of your human condition and not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.

In a few minutes you were in front of Lament, the store he had condemned as "lame" and "meant for normies" but eventually became a frequent customer soon, even if it meant that he sent you over as much as he could.

The young lady behind the desk smiled gladly at you, happy to finally see the guy responsible of both your frequent visits and her payrise, specially after Levi introduced Beel to the store.

You ordered between giggles and smiles, trying your best to help Levi out whenever the woman tried to drag him into the conversation with her best of intents. It made the process slower, but soon it was all payed and both of you were back on the streets.

"You know? At times I feel like you spoil me too much" you said, absent mindedly, eyes lost in the street. "Like, you always take me to so many cool places, like that time you brought me to the C.S, remember? And today you're even going out of your way to spend some time together! I must be the luckiest human alive to have you by my side!"

Levi was not ready for your words. Levi was not ready for your smile. Levi turned into some sort of bright red puddle of joy that covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

"A-Are you serious?!" He stared at you in disbelief, even stopping walking, making you turn your head around, Right eyebrow arched. "I mean, I just... I guess just really like being with you. Maybe... Maybe even more than being alone. You're my Henry, after all."

Even if he had clearly struggled, he actually managed to stay calm. God how much you wanted to hug this dork but how you feared he wouldn't like it, not here.

"You're so sweet, Levi, but please don't make my fall any deeper, I don't think I can take it!" You softly bump him with your shoulder, resting against his body for a while as a loose excuse to touch him a little bit, even if you were holding hands already. He kept quiet, mainly because he didn't know what to say without feeling too awkard in public, but he started softly rubbing circles against your hand with his thumb, slowly, lovingly.

The now closer sound of crashing waves soon catched your attention, and you even dared to rush a bit to the shore, even if it meant dragging your not so athletic boyfriend with you. Soon you were looking over the Devildom sea, feeling the breeze play with your clothes, kiss your limbs softly leaving the sea's smelt dancing between your flesh.

You didn't really get to see it, of course, but a gorgeous pair of amber eyes relied lovingly upon your figure. Levi, who had always admired the sea, would now much rather admire you, and it was driving him crazy.

"It's so beautiful! Didn't you miss this?" You turned around with a bright smile, and he felt like he was about to combust.

"I guess. It was nice to hang out with Lotan" he softly nods, sitting as close to the water as he could get. "But it's slightly more complicated."

You look at him, knowing he could easily read the questions floating in your eyes.

"When I was... When we were having a bad time" he said, so softly his words tangled with the breeze, like he was simply a part of the scenario, a piece of a perfect fitting whole. "I used to come here. I used to stare at the waves, just wishing they could take me with them. I felt so useless. I felt like a waste of space. But at the end... I wasn't even brave enough to actually take a dive."

He left out a sore chuckle, dragging his fingers along the sand. You were about to say something, to do something, but he hadn't finished.

Levi stared at you, his bright eyes watery, his smile so bitter, so painful to even see.

"Now you must really think I'm lame, right? I'm such an attention seeker, and you know it so well... I still doubt why would someone like you be with someone like me."

You saw his eyes darken and an arrow crossed your heart, not in the right way. Carefully, you cupped his cheeks, looking him dead in the eye while maintaining a serene smile. Reassuring. Warm.

"Levi. I'm glad you're alive. I'm so proud of you for making it this far." You softly and momentarily removed his hair from his forehead, giving him a soft kiss there, then on the cheek, before softly wiping away his tears with your thumb. "I love you. I love spending time with you, I love when you ramble about things that you like, when you do every little thing without realizing how much it means. Be it putting your whole soul on a cosplay or gifting Satan your earphones. You are simply such a lovely person. Such a lovable person. And I'm sure your brothers feel the same way. They'd be fools otherwise."

You give him a last kiss on the tip of his nose and he soon tackles you in a hug that inevitably makes you fall on your back. Not that you complain too much either way.

You both lie there, his head buried in your chest, listening to your heartbeat mixing with the waves, slowly calming down as your hand runs through his hair, softly, tenderly.

He felt so loved. So in place with the sea just next to him, with his arms around you like that's all they were meant to do.

It took him a while to realize you had fallen asleep, perhaps because of last night's marathon. He was careful when pulling away, taking his time to appreciate your sleeping self, deciding to lay a small surprise for you.

He quietly took what you both had brought, trying his best to make it Devilgram worthy before taking a picture, even if he struggled a bit around the idea of sharing a moment with the world he'd much rather have for himself. Levi decided to think about it later.

Only when everything had been perfectly laid, he walked over to you, kneeling at your right and giving you a soft peck on the lips he spent minutes bracing himself for, like you hadn't done it so many times before.

You softly complained, way too sleepy to even know what you were saying, but successfully making Levi promise himself to actually marry you.

"Hm... Levi? Are you feeling better now? What... What time is it?" You asked in a rather low voice, standing with the demon's help, a beautiful smile adorning his features.

"Time for a snack, of course!" He cheerfully answer, soon showing you his little masterpiece. "

#obey me #Obey me!#obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me fluff #Obey me MAX #gn!reader

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