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ps-i-dont-even-know · 3 years

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Devil may cry parent headcanons

Dante

He probably is a fun dad but at the same time don't leave your kids with him, it would be a disaster

Will wake up to crying at 12 am and try to put the kid back to sleep, ends up with both of them watching tv instead

This man will do anything with your kid, they want to go to the park, sure he'll have to keep an eye on them. They want to see the movies, sure has to be below pg or he will never hear the end of it from the nightmares his kids have. Want to go to the zoo, sure he just needs to make sure they don't go into the exhibit.

He will play dress up and tea time with them. He will put on a dress and have them do his makeup just so he can go to tea time, and might start some beef with Mr teddy for stealing his cupcakes, but he will do it proudly.

He will try to do their hair in the morning for school, again he is not the best at it and will probably give them crooked pigtails, he's trying he really is.

Can't cook for shit, I'm sorry if you think he could cook please take a look at all the pizza box stored around his shop. Like he will take cooking lessons or watch cooking shows but dear god how do you set fire to milk.

He will always be there for his kid to vent even if he doesn't know how to respond he will sit and let them rant about stuff, also trying to cheer them up because he doesn't want to see them sad

If they brought their homework to him he would be confused he can barely pay his bills i don't think he knows how to do math, but drama he will rock that stuff his acting skills are on point even if it's cheesy

Will waste all his money on the kid, toys, clothes, video games, you name it he will buy it and give to the kid

Remember how I said not to leave your kid alone with Dante yeah, he may or may noteave his weapons/devilarms around for the kids to grab them, like halfway of Dante walking into the main room and he sees ebony in his kids mouth he tricksters all the way to them and quickly grab ebony before anything bad happens, but the kid will start crying and he has to find something for them to mess with or he'll get a headache

He accidently devil triggered in front of his kid now depending on which one he get two responses and he's expecting screaming for both, but if its regular dt like humanish looking one, "woah, dad grew scales and wings, are you a lizard king?" Now its his Sin Dt he would get "Oo, daddys a gaint dragon" for both case they will proceed to touch his scales? And will be all over him trying to climb him to the point he literally has to switch out of dt so they don't get hurt. Also he's a heat source for winter if the heating doesn't get paid for.

If his kid comes out as any of the lgbtq+ he would be supportive and loves them for who they are, I also see him being apart of it too.(I know a few people see him as asexual I do too, as well as bisexual)

Vergil

Look this guy probably has no clue what he's doing, even if we wish he could've taken care of Nero (at least I do) he didn't and now he has another kid to take care

Please help him hold the baby, he can't properly do it at all, he's just holding them by their chest and staring at them with confusion as the child cry, "why won't they stop screaming?"

He will get the hang of taking care of the kid, but please don't leave him alone with them for long he still has no clue what he's doing half the time

"Hey can I hang out with (insert name) at the mall?", "Do I know their mom?", "Uh, no", "Do I know their dad?", "No" Then that settles it, you can't go", "But-", "No buts, if I don't know their parents you can't go, and that's finale"

Can he cook, probably but he's been in hell for most of his life and doesn't know what he's doing half the time. Thank god for cooking shows and book he at least tries a learn how to cook, and doesn't burn anything unlike someone else

He will read the kids William Blake or other bed time stories before bed time, and will do activities where they try to make up poems he has to thank Nero for the idea

Speak of Nero, if Vergil has a mission he will leave his kids with him, he's not trusting Dante at all. Nero absolutely loves his step siblings even if their like a few years younger than him, they will either play with the other kids at the orphanages or play Nero which consist of Video games, sometimes sword fights if they beg long enough, or just talk about the stuff their dad and uncle does that are stupid and make fun of them for it.

Also that one dad to try and help with math homework but makes the kid cry because they don't understand the problem and he's yelling at them "What's 2 x 2?" Its traumatizing please someone tell him to cool it or his kid is going to have problems when it comes to yelling and math, also complains how he didn't learn it that way as a kid, I promise you he was homeschooled.

Now his kids can vent to him but he has no clue what to do nor have much good advice but he will give what he knows even if it's not the best.

This can go many ways, this man know his kid is getting bullied he will go down to the school with the Yamato and threaten someone's life, give his kid the sword for them to deal with it instead, or use some brain cells and deal with it like civil people and we hope he chooses the last one

Now he's a little careful with his devil trigger and doesn't want to scare his kids, but its by accident really and he expects screaming, just like Dante he gets two responses. Regular dt and I'm going off of 4 because I don't think he has one in dmc5, "Dad, why didn't you tell me/us your secretly a bug, don't worry well keep you away from shoes." If its Sin Dt, "Wow, your a dragon this whole time, does this mean I'm also a dragon, where do you keep your stashed gold?", I feel like for his regular dt they will sometimes smack him with a fyswatter and he has to turn out of his sin dt quickly because they want to mess with the fire coming out of him.

If his kids come out as lgbtq+ he will be supportive and a little confused because he has no clue what it is. They have to explain what it means and what their sexuality means, he'll still be supportive and loves his kids no matter what they are

Nero

Out of Vergil and Dante, he's probably the one who knows more about taking care of kids since he grew up with them in an orphanage and takes care of them

I feel he's like a mix between Dante and Vergil, Fun dad but will put his foot down on somethings

If its a girl you bet he will go out to a store at whatever time it is and buy then pad/tampon when their monthly comes no questions asked he just knows. If its a dude he will give the talk, not just protection but what not to do, like when a girl tells him to stop he needs to stop, no advancing on or anything like that (I feel like the no advancing will also go for the girl)

Doesn't do favoritism, he hates that stuff since he technically dealt with it as a kid, if one kid ask why he loves the other more than them he will shut that down quickly and tell them he loves them equally and will move moons for them to both be happy

Best cook hands down, and will let his kids help if they want to but keeps them away from sharp objects. He will also take them out to dinner if he doesn't want to cook

He's decent with homework, and goes about it in a fun learning experience for the both of them, if they get an answer right they get a point that they can trade for something special later kne, if they get it wrong they will go over it again, but still get a point because no favoritism. He also help make a volcano, but also put a little extra pizzazz to it, and might have caused the whole kitchen to be a different color now.

His kids can vent to him, he will understand and try to help give advice for some issues, also takes them out of the house to do something they want to do to cheer them up

He will encourage his kids to follow what they want to do, play a sport? He will show up to every game, even if that means giving Dante his mission he will. A club? He will make sure they have everything they need for that club and be on time for it, be it art, book, yearbook, student council, etc. They want to do boy scout/girl scout, he will make sure he gets them a vest and help put pins on as well. He will be the number one supportive dad

As soon as his kid comes to him crying about how some other kid is bullying them he will be mad, he'll reassuring his kid that they are amazing first, then go to the school, if they don't do anything he will go straight to the parent and make sure that their kid doesn't mess with his anymore.

Will watch anime with them, if they agree that is don't want your dad into your stuff. But like he's absolutely into it, he seems like the person to like Bleach (this was not intentional I complete forgot that the voice actor for Nero also did Ichigo) or Cowboy Bebop. Maybe sailor moon but you won't hear him say it

Look he's really new to the devil trigger business, the only thing close he had was that ghost creature, so keeping this thing in check and not popping up randomly is hard. His kids reaction are, "You hair is longer, are you like rapunzel, oh wait you have wings and a crown your an angel. Oh can I braid your hair please," of course he will let them braide his hair he can't say no to a pouting face, they also will poke his wings to see if their real.

He will definitely support his kid if their aprat of the lgbtq+, will buy them flags, merch, you name it. He want his kid to feel safe and loved

Lady and Trish

Look I can't separate these two, when I first saw them I thought they were girlfriends, and I can't let that go. But these two would definitely be the fun and protective mom

So considering Trish and Lady are both females they definitely have to adopt of course, now Lady may not know if its half demon or full, but Trish does and she probably would help the kid when they get older since she knows about the demon body considering she has one, if its human Lady knows the most about the stuff going on when they get older and has I already planned out.

Now Lady has to be the protective mom because the shit happen with her dad she definitely doesn't want anything bad to happen to their kid, and Trish is like you do you kid if you get hurt you learn from it "its the demon way of raising" she says. Though she still will watch over them and make sure they don't get themselves severely hurt

They will buy their kid anything, and take them out shopping. It's like a spin the wheel of pay to see if they will pay for the stuff or put it under Dante's name for shits and giggles

Lady has to like keep her weapons locked up somewhere safe, unlike Dante, she's more careful with her weapons

If their kid is mad or something Trish will take them to some deserted area with some random stuff she found that isn't in use and have their kid throw it in the air so she can blow it up with her lighting, you know to blow steam off

Trish or Lady tell their kid the stupidest thing Dante has done or said, if they visit Dante please note one will scream if Dante says something about a soul, "I should have been the one to fill your dark soul with Light" and get the voice crack right too, he will look so embarrassed

Now Trish might not know anything about homework she'll support the best she can but Lady knows most of the stuff and will help.

Trish will tell their king everything about Hell, who's in charge, what creatures are there, the history of it all. Its a great learning experience until you tell them that the female demons kill the male after finishing mating

If they are out in public and some guy is hitting on their kid and their tell him no, protective mom mode is on. Mostly Lady has to stop Trish from frying thr guy, but Lady will give the man a price of her mind saying if he tries to do this shit again with her kid he will be going home with a foot straight up his ass. So now no man tries to hit on her

Definitely let the kids go venting to them, they give the best cuddled, some good advice, and shopping if they say someone's bullying them they will see that the parent deals with their kid.

They knew their kid was apart of lgbtq+, of course their supportive of who they are, they are dating of course. They will take them to a pride march in June

Kyrie

Look, LOOK, she is an amazing mom, so caring but also will put her foot down on somethings

Besides Nero she is a good cook and baker, while she doesn't want kids in the kitchen while she's cooking will will have them help with baking sweet

Reads bedtime stories and tucks her kids in and kiss goodnight (ugh my heart hurts I love this)

She will play video games with her kids mostly on the wii, she still the champion on Mario Kart and Just Dance no one has taken their spot yet, even Nero tries

Packs lunch for her kids and puts a note in it telling them that she loves them and hope they have the best day

She does worry about them from time to time when they go over a friends house, only because of what happened to her brother and then Nero she doesn't want anything to happen to her kids

Tells them not to climb the tree in their backyard, what does one of them do, they climb it and accidently falls down. She goes to them saying "You know I told you not to do it, and you did it anyways, you need to be more careful and listen to me. I'm not doing this because I'm being uptight I'm doing this for your safety I want you to be able to do the things you want in the future"

I feel like she's the same way with friends like Vergil, if she doesn't know the parents then you can't go out or over their house

She is really a good listener and help with advice, so venting to her is a really great idea also will ask about your feelings and how your doing someday, like she knows your in a sad mood

She also good with homework, I feel like she wanted to become a teacher as well as study for it, but instead stuck with taking care of orphans, so she probably homeschools her kids too

She also makes the kids clothes time to time, they have little sweaters or shirts that are soft and comfortable

She is so supportive of her kids if they come out lgbtq+, she doesn't care as long as their happy thats all that matters.

Nico

Now I love Nico amazing and pretty girl but don't leave a child with her, just like Dante it will be a disaster, but she probably would try to be a better parent than her since he technically wa this weird freaky man who experimented on demons or was weird.

Let's start with teaching the kid every swear word she knows and tells them to go up to Nero call him one of those names, she will hear her name being screamed and find an angry Nero going over to her as she burst into fits of laughter

Will be extra pair of arms when getting a tool they need for fixing the van, when Nero does understand what a Dohicky is

I think Nico can cook, its decent not bad or good, she did nearly burn the van down from trying to cook turkey.

She will try and cut back on smoking or at least not doing it when the kid is around because its bad for them, Nero scoffs because she nags him when he tells her to stop, but not her kids

Now her kids could bring homework to her, like he's good in math, engineering, and probably biology, but she'll act as if she never even seen the stuff in her life, because she wants to get her learn it and not her just giving them the answer. But if their kid is in a science fair I bet she will help make something totally child friendly(its not really), it kind of gets her and her kid ban from doing anymore science fairs.

She will teach then everything she knows about Demon, mostly the biology of it, and when Nero brings a demon part for his breakers, she goes in explain how she turns them into those.

Will tease her kids if they talk about their crush, she's a huge teaser so saying something about someone they really like or anything its a mistake, she will embarrass them in front of their crush, but she means well

If they try to change the channel of the radio she swats their hand saying the driver picks the music and the passenger has to sit and listen.

If she's busy with something she will let Nero and Kyrie babysit her kids, she trust them and the kids love Nero and Kyrie.

Tries to teach her kids how to drive when their of age to learn, but Nero and Kyrie won't let her considering how she drives and that the instructor is more legal to do it.

No but she will tease her kid a bit if they come out lgbtq+ too, of course she supportive I kind of see her being apart of lgbtq+ as well

*Bonus because it seemed reasonable to just put this one here like this*

Nero, Dante, Vergil, Lady, Trish, Nico

They will teach their kid self defense, and how to use a weapon. While they rather their kids have a normal life instead of a demon hunter for many reasons, they at least want their kid to take care of themselves if they find themselves in a situation where their life is on the line

#devil may cry #devil may cry vergil #dante devil may cry #nero devil may cry #devil may cry headcanons #dmc kyrie #devil may cry nico #devil may cry lady #devil may cry trish #devil may cry headcanon

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the-ghost-king · 3 years

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can we have some solangelo in college headcannons?

Yeah sure!

I think Will is that mf who would have decent grades through high school, like 3.5-3.7 type stuff, but he would just wait until senior year and just destroy himself for a 4.0 or higher

I also think he would graduate at least a year early

He would probably be involved in some sort of out of school program, either relating to medicine or sports and he would get a scholarship

Definitely gets into some sort of Ivy League on scholarships alone, complains about it the whole time because he doesn't need the money and ends up forfeiting the scholarship

His mom is a famous musician, so he does his basics at a local community college in New York while he works with the next gen of demigods to be working in the infirmary

And then his mom pays his way through school (she can't afford all those years at an Ivy League medical school but she can pay so he graduates from there and stuff)

I don't know exactly what his career would end up being, I like general surgeon for Will, I also think he might find pediatrics fun, there's also a good chance he might end up being one of the top doctors globally and working for some sort of big organization like WHO or whatever... Maybe there's a demigod version of it or something

As for Nico I think he would go to college, he would probably get a full ride to some advanced school too but unlike Will he just bullshitted everything but his test scores

I could see him going into law, and he's there and he's learning from a professor and the professor says something that's either wrong or an over simplification

It starts a disagreement, Nico walks out of the class with an "I'll show you" attitude

Nico ends up dropping out, forfeiting his scholarships and instead writes a book that's considered so well done it becomes a national requirement in the field and the professor he got into the debate with has to spend the rest of their career using Nico's book (which has a passive aggressive "this wouldn't have been possible without you" in the cover dedicated to the professor)

After that point Nico would just bounce around between majors a whole bunch, trying a little bit of everything because at 18 he would finally get access to his inheritance

Eventually he ends up doing some freelance art stuff online (wacky Twitter art tbh), but he goes to school for a nursing degree and ends up working in a hospice center and really enjoys that

Outside of school I do think they would move in together and such

According to them it's just a small basic apartment, and that's technically true but between Will's family and Nico's newly accessible inheritance money isn't a concern and as long as they lived middle class they'd probably be set for life

A one-two bedroom apartment isn't crazy, until you realize they're college students and the area of town they live in... Percy and Annabeth's little studio apartment seems more realistic in this situation

They have Mrs. O'Leary (because who knows what happened to her but asking me I'm just saying she was staying at CJ or something and Nico picked her up after HoO and she lived in his cabin), also who knows what happened to small Bob but they have him too

Will and Nico are definitely either married during or before college, and so they're those college kids where everyone is like "wait you're married?"

Being a sophomore in college is odd enough, try being a sophomore in college and married... Classmates are confused and have no clue who's married to who

Eventually they figure it out and they're all just "??"

But Nico and Will start hanging out together at school and things click together

They definitely expand their friend groups, definitely Nico, he grows up and comes out of his shell more again

Nico struggles to make close friends, but he definitely has a lot more casual friends and acquaintances

Will often surprises people because he pretty much only hangs out with Cecil and Lou Ellen still (I mean yeah he picks up a few college friends, but Cecil, Lou Ellen and him go way back and nobody can beat that) so Will is the type to have few friends but tons of acquaintances

Anyhow, hopefully you enjoy at least some of that! Thanks for the ask anon!

#nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo

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cafeacademia · 4 years

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Guardian | Chapter One

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: As you navigate your fifth year at Hogwarts, you reflect on the things that have led you this far and you begin to wonder if your complicated friendship with Draco holds more meaning than you originally anticipated.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some friendly teasing, mentions of Umbridge’s punishments, description of harm to a student, comfort, fluff.

Word count: Approx 4000 (oopsies)

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, here’s the first full part of the series! Please check out the Prologue if you’re new to the series, it gives some general setting up for the story and explains how this soulmate AU works. Enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next part

(Gif is my own)

Sitting in the library, Neville was not far from the desk you were sat at as he scoured the shelves for a copy of a book about rare magical properties in plants while you were trying to work on your final Potions essay for the term. “This feels impossible.” You yawned, slouching over your four parchment rolls of completed essay. All you really had to do now was make a conclusion, but your brain was wandering after a few hours of working on your homework and it just wasn’t happening. “That’s incredible.” Neville whispered to himself and you couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, looking over your shoulder to see that he was fully engrossed in the book he had pulled off the shelf.

Putting your quill down, you looked down at your hand, eyes trailing over the little bandage wrap you wore over the mark left from the detention you had served the previous evening with Umbridge. It was still sore and it felt very tender, but you tried your best to keep it hidden under the bandage and the sleeve of your school jumper. Slowly, your mind wandered towards what Draco might be up to. You hadn’t spoken to him in months since you had started in your fifth year and you’d had less of desire to do so now that he was in the Inquisitorial Squad. And your thoughts paced back to your fourth year when you had started to share a bit of a friendship with him.

***

“You’re fraternizing with the enemy, you are.” Ron scoffed. “I am not.” You frowned at him. “Oi, shove off would you? I know you don’t like the little git, but he seems to like our girl, isn’t that right George?” Fred asked, looking over your head to his twin who was standing on the other side of you. “That’s right Fred, maybe he’s got a crush on you.” He chuckled, nudging you in the side. “Ah, young love.” Fred sighed, garnering a multitude of reactions between Ron sounding utterly disgusted to Ginny’s amused laughter. “Draco is just being friendly.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh Draco is it now? Not Malfoy anymore eh?” Fred teased.

“He’s such a git, Malfoy’s not worth your time anyway, he’s probably just using you or something.” Ron argued and for once, Hermione gave Ron an agreeing nod. “Besides, since when is Malfoy nice to anyone?” Hermione asked, Fred and George giving each other a look, they were a little more accepting than the others, but with the question raised even the twins wondered if there wasn’t another motivation there.

Sighing, you leaned back against the wall of the quad and glanced over at Neville, who had just been quietly listening to the conversation without saying a word, but the look on his face told you that he felt the same as the rest of your friends. The problem was, while you really, truly valued their opinion and you understood that they were trying to look out for you, albeit with a little tough love on Ron’s end, you knew there was something there between you and Draco but you just couldn’t seem to find the words to describe it.

Was it friendship? Was it some kind of connection deeper than that? Whatever it was, Draco seemed to become a different person around you. He was more genuine, more open, more himself and oddly, you were starting to feel like he really valued your attention and your opinion.

“You shouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction.” Ron went on, Harry now wandering over to join the group and you heaved out a sigh because you knew as soon as he joined in, the two of them would be going on about how much of ‘bloody git’ Draco was. “Give who the satisfaction?” Harry asked. “Malfoy.” Ron replied in a disgruntled tone. “Fine,” You gritted out. “Then I won’t give either of you the satisfaction, Ronald.” You suddenly burst out, everyone looking at you as if you had grown a second head from your sudden outburst. “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He asked, a little bewildered.

But as the days passed, your friends started to realise what you had meant by that statement. Your little chats with Draco seemed to have halted entirely, and you didn’t speak a word about your budding friendship with the Slytherin. It was as if you had completely forgotten it had ever happened and your friends were starting to wonder if you were sneaking off to talk to him without any prying eyes, but of course there was no way they could prove it.

You valued their concern, you appreciated it in fact, but stupid or not you couldn’t deny that you felt a pull towards Draco. So you removed all indication that there was any interaction with Draco at all and it became quickly apparent to you, that maybe it was safer to just have a friendship with Draco in secret, especially as you weren’t too fond of the attention that being around the Slytherin Prince brought you.

You couldn’t deny, the secret meetings with Draco felt a little wrong, purely because you knew you’d get an absolute earful from Ron if he ever found out. But you still loved spending time with Draco, because out of everyone you had ever spent time with, Draco seemed to really value your company, be it quiet or more talkative. He seemed to understand when there were days that you just didn’t want to say a lot or you were more shy than usual and he understood that it was okay to enjoy silent company, but he also enjoyed it when you had energetic days and you wanted to chat about whatever came to mind.

***

“Are you listening?” Neville asked, leaning over your chair. “Hm?” You suddenly looked up at him, a little bit startled from being pulled away from your thoughts. “If we don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Neville warned and you pulled a face of worry before you hurried to pack away your things.

“Thank Merlin.” Neville mumbled as you both practically ran up the stairs to your classroom, seeing that there was a line of students waiting outside of the room, telling you that either you were just on time or Umbridge was late, though you thought the latter to be unlikely when she liked to go on about punctuality so often.

As you joined the line, Draco Malfoy made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached you and pushed his way into the queue, though he was careful not to push you. And while Neville was busy catching up with Susan Bones who was standing on the other side of him, Draco leaned in and whispered to you.

“Meet me after class?” He asked. “Promise no funny business, just you and me.” He murmured and you tentatively glanced up at him. “This isn’t about you know what, is it?” You asked quietly. Draco knew what you were referring to. He knew you would be worried that he might try and pry some information out of you about the DA. Checking from side to side with a quick look, he held up his hand in front of you and pointed his ring finger at you. “I promise, it’s just like our old chats.” He whispered, glancing down to see you smiling, realising he was attempting a pinky promise. “Alright, but you’re using the wrong finger.” You had to refrain from giggling and instead, you shyly hid your smile as best as you could. Hesitantly you raised your hand, almost too shy to even touch him, but you pulled his little finger free and linked it with your own. “Sorry, I always forget which finger it is, muggle promises are strange.” Draco mumbled.

It wasn’t long before Umbridge finally poked her head out of the classroom and invited everyone in.

Draco sighed as he slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed in the drier than normal Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Umbridge was particularly boring to listen to as she droned on about a test you’d all be taking soon.

Instead, his focus was trained on the notebook that peeked out of the top of his bag that sat under his desk. He wished he could pick the book up and leaf through the pages, idly reading your handwriting, take in your thoughts and feelings and remind himself of days before now. Sometimes Draco wished that he could outright approach you and tell you that it was him, that he was your soulmate, but really that would be quite a bad move.

Draco wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to actually tell you, perhaps there was something that would prevent him from doing so or some sort of consequence and he was especially wary of this since his fourth year at Hogwarts when Pansy Parkinson had involved herself.

***

“What is that tatty old thing anyway? And why do you always brandish it about like a... a trophy or something?” She had asked with a judgemental edge to her tone, stealing it right out of Draco’s lap. The boy had nearly thrown himself across the common room at her as she hurried off with it. “I bet it’s a diary.” She giggled to herself. “Yeah, or he keeps secrets in there.” Crabbe added as he joined her. “That’s what a diary is, you dolt.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Draco stormed towards the pair of them, his heart racing with fear as he watched Pansy teasingly open the cover of the book. However, much to Pansy’s surprise and even more so to Draco’s, there wasn’t a single word, not a single drop of ink, no markings, nothing. The book was completely empty. “You really carry around an empty book?” Pansy questioned, sceptical with her upper lip curled in disappointment. “What did you expect, my heartfelt feelings?” Draco scoffed, his tone cold and sarcastic as he snatched the book back from her, trying not to appear too hurt that his book had been handled roughly. “I’m to keep it safe. Father sent it to me.” Draco lied through his teeth, but thankfully, his lies were hard to detect, even for someone who knew Draco’s tactics to uphold his image and Pansy just pulled an expression that told him that she thought it was weird.

***

But now, as he sat in class, Draco could still see the small dent in the leather cover that Pansy had caused when she’d roughly stolen it from his grasp. He was still angry about it even a year later, perhaps it was irrational to be so annoyed about damage to a book, but this was special and he remembered how very upset he had felt that someone other than him had held the book. It was precious, vulnerable and he treasured it.

But it wasn’t just the book that he treasured. No, what he considered to be more important, more precious and something truly wonderful in every aspect was you. Which was why he had started to slowly distance himself from you. But as Draco looked up to see you sitting a few rows ahead of him in the middle of the classroom, the thing that reminded him of why he wanted to see you peeked out from under your jumper sleeve. Your hand was bandaged and Draco was quite angry with himself, because the night before when you had unknowingly written to him in your book and told him that a teacher had hurt you during detention, Draco had immediately known what it meant and he was livid.

“Attention, mister Malfoy.” Umbridge practically shrieked across the classroom, slamming her hand down onto the front desk, disturbing the Friday afternoon gloom and making everyone in the room jump at her sudden raised voice before she gave him a forced smile. Draco lazily sat up in his seat, eyes flitting to you every time Umbridge turned away to write or point at something on the blackboard as his mind wandered throughout the rest of the lesson.

When the class finally came to an end and Professor Umbridge excused you all to enjoy the rest of your Friday evening, Draco left the classroom and leaned against the wall outside until the very last person left the room.

Draco gave you a subtle smile before he very quickly peeked around the doorframe to see that Umbridge was climbing the stairs to her office before he turned to look at you and give you a proper smile. “I’m so sorry it’s been months, it’s bloody difficult with her around, it’s like she’s everywhere.” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand, everyone is on high alert at the moment.” You replied in a quiet tone, almost too afraid to speak up as Draco began to walk you down the stairs, having avoided the eyes of all of your classmates and hopefully any spying caretakers too.

You were anxious to be spending time with Draco after all of this time. Especially as now he was part of the Inquisitorial Squad and part of you was afraid that your friends had been right last year. What if he did try to use you? But Draco had not yet betrayed your trust and you firmly believed in giving him the benefit of the doubt, you just hoped you weren’t doing it at your own expense.

“Come, we can talk in here.” Draco stepped into a hidden little alcove that was behind a statue at the side of the staircase. It was unlikely anyone would stop long enough to be able to hear you both talking and no one could see you hidden around the corner either.

“Was she hard on you yesterday?” Draco whispered his eyes softening as he watched you give him a little nod. “Yeah, a little.” You replied. “How did you know?” You queried, shyly looking up at him. “Pansy told me she caught you and Neville yesterday.” He explained and you just gave him a little nod. It wasn’t an outright lie, Pansy had told him she’d caught some students, but she never said who, it was only until you confided in your soulmate that it had happened that he knew you must have been in the group that Parkinson had caught. He watched as you slowly lifted your hand and pulled up your jumper sleeve to show him the bandage.

“Can I see?” Draco asked softly, gently taking your hand into both of his, holding you so softly like he was afraid he could hurt you with just his tender touch. You nodded, Draco leaning down to catch the way your eyes seemed to be filled with shame and you glanced at him, only for a second with a watery gaze.

Slowly and as carefully as he could, Draco unwrapped your bandage, reading the words that had been carved into your hand. “Oh love, I’m sorry, I should have been there to stop it from happening.” Draco sounded like he was scolding himself as he apologised, the emotions reaching his eyes as they swam deep in worry.

“It’s alright, I knew I’d end up in detention with her eventually.” You sighed, watching as Draco gently held your hand in his. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make his stomach turn horribly. It sickened him to no end and part of the reason he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad in the first place was with the hopes that he might be able to protect you better from that position. Not that he would let on to that, though.

“Does it hurt still?” He asked. “It still stings a bit and it’s sore.” You told him, your eyes saddened as you looked down at the writing you had tried so hard to conceal all day, not just because you were ashamed of what Umbridge had done, but because you simply could not bear to look at it. Would it always be there? You wondered if it would serve as a constant reminder and you hoped that with time that it would fade, but you couldn’t help the worry that sat deep in your stomach that the mark would remain long after healing and you hoped at the very least, that it would not make your stomach turn every time you looked at it.

“I’m so sorry.” Draco sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes looking up to meet yours as you let a shy, watery smile take over. You hoped not to cry, but Umbridge and her punishment was still very fresh in your mind and you felt a horrible chill roll through you whenever you thought of it. Merlin only knew how you had managed to make it through your lesson with her without it affecting you terribly.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here, but I’m here now.” Draco whispered it so quietly as he pulled you against his side. He hated that he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again. Draco hated that he couldn’t stop Umbridge from hurting you and part of him hated himself for how weak he was for you. Did you find it strange that he was so apologetic? That he was almost loving towards you? But the worry seemed to slip from his mind when he felt you lean against him. It was moments like this that made Draco question himself. He questioned if he should continue to create distance between you, or if keeping you close was easier to keep you safe. And he questioned things like if he should find a way to help you realise that he was your soulmate like he had worked out two years ago. But he was afraid. Draco was starting to feel like that was beginning to be all too common for him to feel these days as things became more intense. The pressure from his father to do increasingly worse things that simply did not align with Draco’s morals was enough to twist his mind and now with working under Umbridge, he hoped it did not skew his true alignment and morality. It was this that he was fighting so hard to keep, because it was the one thing he could control when everyone else was insistent on pushing him into the directions they wanted him to go in.

What you didn’t know though, was that your friendship, his connection with you was more than just that to Draco. When he was around you, he didn’t feel like he had to cling on to who he was and put a mask on. He could just be himself and it relieved some of the tension and the fear.

But the question begged itself again. Am I too close to her?

“You know, Draco.” You broke the silence, the Slytherin humming in response, prompting you to continue. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for years.” You told him. And while it was somewhat true, you had known him since you both had started Hogwarts, you never really knew him until recently. Without even knowing what lay deeper in your connection to Draco, you could feel something there, you felt drawn to him.

That’s because you have, he thought. “I know what you mean. I’ve felt the same too.” Draco replied with a soft smile, only he really did know what you meant, more than you did and he wished he could tell you.

“We should go.” Draco spoke, almost in a regretful tone as he carefully and gently bandaged your hand back up. He hated that he had so little time with you, but he was thankful at least, that you were not against spending time with him. Stepping forwards, Draco checked the stairwell. “There’s no one around.” He reassured you. “See you soon.” Draco smiled sweetly at you. “I hope so.” You nodded, mirroring his smile before you stepped out of the alcove and made your way down the stairs quickly, Draco waiting several minutes before leaving, just in case.

The end of term was on it’s final stretch with one last exam to sit the following Monday for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But as the weekend came, you decided to spend at least some of it with the person you’d not been able to see nearly all year.

“Can I ask you something?” You broke the silence, Draco glancing over at you from his spot on the grass. You were both sat down by the lake, hidden by a bit of overgrown foliage and rocks. It was a part near the shore of the lake that not many people went to and it was perfect for spending a private moment with someone. “What is it?” He asked as he reached up to push his hair to the side.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous.” You sighed, fiddling with the book that sat closed in your lap. “Nothing you say is ever ridiculous.” Draco said, looking over at you with a sweet smile and you felt yourself warm at his words. “Well in that case,” You paused, looking out over the horizon of the lake. “Do you believe in soulmates?” You posed the question as if you were terrified he’d tell you it was utter rubbish, but when you heard him give you a little hum as he thought about it, Draco leaned over a little, resting his hand on your arm to get your attention.

Meeting his gaze, his blue eyes softened when he saw how nervous you looked and he wondered if someone had told you that it was all an old wives tale.

You seemed to become more shy under his touch and Draco smiled to himself, feeling that it was sweet that you seemed to get so flustered whenever he touched you, even though it had very rarely happened.

“I do, I believe in soulmates.” He reassured you. Draco wanted, with every fibre of his being to show you his book, to tell you everything. But he didn’t. “Did someone tell you it was...” He trailed off. “Stupid? Yeah.” You huffed out. “Do you think there’s someone out there for us?” You asked, relaxing a little as Draco leaned down to gently grip your hand.

“I know there is.” Draco smiled softly.

Sometimes I wonder if I already know you, you wrote. Perhaps we do know each other, but we won’t know until we reach the end of this book, he wrote only moments later. The trundle of the train rolling over the tracks began to lull you into a sleepy state as you sat in a mostly empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express. It was the end of term and while too much had really happened for you to fully compartmentalize and process it all yet, you took solace in knowing that you could figuratively lean on your soulmate for comfort.

You told him everything you felt, almost like a journal and in turn he did the same. He detailed his thoughts, his feelings and he came to you when his day had been too much, but neither of you were too specific. You wished you knew who he was so that you could give him physical comfort, so you could both lean on each other and you wished for this even more so now that you started to wonder if you already knew him.

I promise I’ll write to you as often as I can. You scribbled it down into the book. But there came no answer. And days after you had arrived in London and returned home for the holidays, there was still no response.

If only Draco could tell you what had happened. If only he could write to you and explain it all from beginning to end. But he had no idea if he could, because his only way of communicating with you was no longer in his possession.

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rizumary · 4 years

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In the Garden Full of Stars

✦ Summary: In a few months since they had started dating, Iwaizumi had found something as endearing as it was a complete torture for him: his girlfriend was too clueless and innocent for her own good. Of course it wasn’t something that would hinder his affection for her. On the contrary, Iwaizumi sometimes wondered how he could possibly hold himself back if Hana kept looking at him like he was the absolute wonder of this universe. ✦ AO3 ver — nutteu ✦ Word count: 9.7k

In all his life, Hajime had always been a morning person, an early riser. Tooru had been particularly bitchy about this, but he ignored the jab and the whine at his, apparently, “gross habit”. Tooru and his sensitive ass could wake up late right into the doom’s day, for all he cared. These days, though, he found that he was tolerating someone’s habit of waking up late, and even taking the extra miles to encourage the change in habit. Besides, he got to meet his girlfriend’s groggy face early in the morning, and her sleepy smile in the process. It was honestly a win-win situation for everyone involved.

At this point, Hajime was familiar enough with her mother to be able to sit in their living room and waited for her comfortably, instead of awkwardly standing outside of her gate in the morning. The neighbors once or twice peeked from behind their fences and frowned at him. They probably thought he was a weirdo who stalked the daughter of Akeno’s family, or something. Remembering that just made heaved a deep sigh. The things he did for his clumsy girlfriend.

He didn’t mind, though. Not even a bit. Because Hana greeted him in the morning like she was the happiest person on earth, like she just woke up right into her sweetest dream. The light blush on her cheeks, the fresh scent emanating from her, the way she just stared up at him for a moment before smiling brightly again. Like she couldn’t believe he was real, like she couldn’t believe he was there to walk with her to the bus stop, hold her hand throughout the way, sit next to her in the bus, and listen to her chatters in the morning.

To be fair, Hajime couldn’t believe he was willing to do all of those as well. If someone told him a year ago that he was going to be this smitten with a clumsy, honest, heartwarming cotton candy, he’d politely say thank you, and tell them to do a double laps, regardless if they were in the team or not.

Now, though, he thought fondly, watching as Hana took the box of bento from her mom and kissed her cheek—now, there was nothing he could think of but how lucky he was, to find someone who accepted and wanted him as much as this person.

He bowed to the middle-aged lady, and was pulled out of the living room by an excited Hana. It was quite a windy morning, the scent of sweet flowers and fresh air in the early morning wafted to his nose, coupled with faint smell of food from the houses nearby. It felt like something familiar, it felt like a morning he enjoyed the most these days.

“Did you have your breakfast yet, Hajime-san?” the girl asked, peering at him with pale eyes and a small smile.

He smiled back at her and nodded. “Yeah, made some hamburgers this morning. I brought some for you too.”

She squealed, in that tiny squeak that was laced with happiness. It was so characteristically her that Hajime had to laugh for a moment. In mornings like this, Hajime usually made something to share with her at lunch. He didn’t always pick her up, only at times, as their house was essentially in a different area. When he did, he would come to her house by the earliest bus, sometimes his mom would drop him off there if she got some errands to do in the morning as well. They would walk to the bus stop together, hand in hand, and sat next to each other in the bus.

“This is my favorite thing about waking up early, you know?” Hana once said, the curve of her smile reflected from the bus’ window.

“Taking a bus?” he teased, and let out a small laugh when she whipped around and pouted, hitting lightly at his arm.

“No, Hajime-san, spending time with you,” she corrected. “I mean, every moment with you is my favorite. But sitting together with you in the bus is really comfortable you know? We can talk and be close to each other. You make me feel warm and safe, Hajime-san.”

He wasn’t prepared for the way she said those intimate words, so easily, so honest, so earnest. He was reminded of the girl who got embarrassed because she tripped, or said something way too loud. And then he was reminded of how shamelessly, unforgivingly honest and blunt Hana could be. She didn’t look like she realized that the things she said weren’t something people could usually say so easily, either. People had their own different egos, Hajime knew that. Even someone like Hana; but she was different in the sense that she perceived things differently than other people, and it resulted in her tendencies of spewing the most embarrassing, bravest thing someone could say with such a straight face.

He got used to it, later on. But it still made his heart race, nonetheless. Sometimes, he thought about the way Hana looked at him in the morning; like he was a wonder, a dream—and wondered if she saw the same thing reflected in his eyes as well.

In the instances when he didn’t pick her up, she went to school by herself like usual, and Hajime would wait for her at the bus stop near their school. They’d walk to the school together then. In the way, Hana usually chattered about her latest progress in her art, her side projects, her lessons and whined about her homework as well (she was a diligent girl, Hajime noticed. But she needed a lot of push and encouragements), some games she had started to pick up in the arcade (and the ever-strong obsession with the cranes), or showing him some new clothes that had piqued her interest up on her phone. Hajime would nod along the way, but mostly let her talk, listening to her with a small smile present on his lips, and watching out just in case she tripped or slipped because she didn’t pay attention to the sidewalk.

At times, Hana was worried that she might be bothering him with all her chatters and rants. But in all honesty, Hajime liked listening to her. He wasn’t exactly the most talkative person out there, unlike Tooru. And Hana always had the most interesting thing to talk about, anyways. It was just the way she talked, the cadence she used, the expression, the gesticulation of her hand as she told her stories. He enjoyed those, instead of getting irritated. Maybe he was biased, but Hajime was pretty sure he could just lay there and listen to her talk for hours on end.

He would drop her off at the front of her class, before going to his; waving at her and trying to ignore the curious stare from the kouhais. At times Tooru would pop his head out of the window of his class and grinned at Hajime, teasing him with, “Did you finish your job as the bodyguard?” or “Just came back from dropping the princess off, Iwa-chan?” and he either ignored it, or flicked his forehead hard enough for it to be red throughout the day.

It was a new set of habit, a new set of morning, but Hajime wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t bad at all, starting his day with Hana’s chatters and the excited smile on her lips; the small hand wrapped around his, the soft words of ‘Good morning, Hajime-san’ that felt like a douse of cotton candy in the misty morning. He liked it.

He liked it a lot.

Hana more often than not came to the gym now, every single day Hajime had practice. It came to the point of her being an unofficial manager, helping the other players with their bottles of water, chatting with them to ease them up from the tension of practices and tournament preparations, giving them their towels, helped with the presentation of tactics and formations, and overall just cheered them up from the sidelines. It was new, for Hajime. To have someone this enthusiastic with what he did, who even came and helped around, and he liked it so far.

Of course, there were nasty things going around as well. He knew Hana heard of those, knew that most of the regulars also knew.

“Did you know?” he one day asked, because there was a careless motherfucker who accidentally said disgusting things about Hana, right in the hearing range of the both of them. Hana acted like she didn’t hear it, however.

But all Hana gave to him was a reassuring smile, and a gentle caress to the side of his face. “I always did. But I never have to worry about those, Hajime-san. Because I know that you’ll protect me, that’s why I let them be, and hold on. I can show them, and show you, that I’m stronger than anything they can say about me.”

Hajime took that in, and smiled softly at the answer.

“Hana?” he called, motioning with his hand for her to come closer. They were the last ones in the gym, Tooru left earlier because he had to pick someone up. Hajime vaguely remembered the familiar voice on the other line when Tooru answered a call. A certain kouhai in his middle school—which wasn’t his business at all.

She scooted closer, eyes wide and wondering. “Yeah?”

He gently pushed away the strands of her newly cut bang, and kissed her forehead; soft, trying to convey feelings he was too dumb to explain into words.

But the way Hana stuttered and squeaked and blushed scarlet was enough to tell him that his feelings did come across. He was glad, he thought, smiling at his girlfriend, who tried futilely to hide a smile behind the curtain of her hair. He was glad that she chose him, and he chose to push through and be brave as well—to come out of his shell, and pursue her the way she had tirelessly did the same.

He was glad that life was kind enough to let her stay by his side. And he didn’t plan on letting go; not now, and not for a long time.

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised him as much, but it did anyway—in a way that made his heart beat faster, and the warmth seeped into his skin like a blanket. In a way that reminded him of Tooru’s laughter and the knowing glint in his eyes, as he said, “simp.” Yeah, Hajime wouldn’t even deny it anymore. It really was hard not to be captivated by this kind of innocence, though.

Hana was… not so much innocent as she was just clueless. She was oblivious to the dirty innuendos and the nudges to divulge her love life. Being his girlfriend, it was pretty normal for her to know his friends as well, not to mention that they knew her personally from all those time she spent in the gym. They all talked and joked with each other, trying to include her as much as possible so she wouldn’t feel left out. But there were certain topics that boys caught on faster than anything else, hormone riddled brain recognizing the dirty topics faster than they could catch a serve.

“Ah, but Valentine really is the best time of the year, isn’t it?” Tooru started, looking up dreamily at the bleak ceiling. Hajime didn’t know where he got all those dramatics energy reservation inside of him. He wouldn’t want to know, either. “Chocolates, ladies shyly confessing to you, the little flutters of their laughter as they gather around and talk about the boys they’ll give the chocolate to. Ah! Youth!”

Youth my ass, Hajime wanted to say, as the laughter erupted around them. Tooru was a good captain, and a ridiculously amazing player, but he was a certified clown as well. He didn’t understand how the topic of exams, and the upcoming break for this term, just suddenly evolved into upcoming holidays, and then the argument of which holiday in a year was the best out of everything. Stupidly enough, the other just went along with Tooru’s bait and it got into a full-blown session of mooning over Valentine’s Day.

“You think so too, right, Hana-chan? I mean, you confessed on Valentine’s Day. I fully expect Iwa-chan to at least give you some good ‘ol smooches to show al the love he got in that cold, shriveled heart of his.” Tooru turned to Hana all of the sudden then—who let out a small, surprised squeak. “Hana-chan, don’t just make moony moony eyes at Iwa-chan! Come talk to us too, we’re lonely,” he complained, then fake-wailed so disgustingly that Hajime’s eyebrows just automatically went up two notches higher.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa-san!” she said, panicking and trying to soothe the big baby by patting his arm. “Um, Valentine was memorable for me, because of Hajime-san. But my favorite holiday is Christmas, actually,” she looked so earnestly apologetic that even Tooru forgot to continue his fake-crying for a moment. “We get to see and spend the day with our family, or just have it with our friends, or have the day off for ourselves. Of course, it’s so sad to think that there are people who still have to work on Christmas, but they’ll come home eventually and will have the time to rest as well—and earned extra money! It’s just a warm holiday for me, even if it’s in December, you know? Doesn’t it make you happy that you can forget about your burden and responsibilities for a moment, and just sit and enjoy some hot chocolates under the Christmas tree?”

For a moment, the whole circle was stunned into silence with her lengthy answer. Hajime stared, too; unabashed, devoted. He almost laughed with how the situation had turned. This—this girl just changed a teasing mood into an unexpectedly wholesome discussion, and powered through the jokes and nudges from Tooru beforehand. Maybe not powering through as much as dismissing it altogether, since those jokes probably went over her head anyway.

When the other boys were still recovering from the abrupt shift of mood, and Tooru was hiding his chuckles on his sleeve, Hajime caressed the top of Hana’s head and smiled down at her when she looked up with confusion and worry in her eyes. “Yeah, Christmas is pretty great. Maybe we can go out on Christmas Eve? We can see the Winter Illumination light in Johzenji.”

The pale eyes lighted up immediately, before crinkling into crescent moons as she smiled so hard it made her glow. Hajime couldn’t compete with this girl. She was too much, too lovely, too bad for his poor, cold, shriveled heart.

“Really? We can go there, Hajime-san?” she was all up on his space, and Hajime’s breath got stuck in the vicinity of his throat and lungs. It was hard to breathe properly with how close they were; close enough he could see her long lashes. “Is it really okay? I mean—I would love to go there and spend the Christmas with you, but… won’t you have any other plan for Christmas?”

He shrugged, smiling a little at her. “That is my plan, though?”

She gave him a bright grin that shot straight through his heart, and started chattering about how pretty the light shows would be, how much she was looking forward to this. As they all got excited for a holiday that was still too far away, Hajime gave small, continuous pats to her shoulders. A gesture he had found to be soothing and grounding. It became a habit, somehow, but she didn’t mind and he liked doing it as well. It worked out for the both of them. He did realize when he felt like someone was watching him, though.

When he looked from watching Hana and her excited chatter, he found that Tooru was smiling at the both of them. He didn’t look teasing, didn’t look mischievous; just a plain, sincere smile that reminded Hajime why he still stayed as his best friend for as long as he did. And then, of course, he had to ruin it by scooting closer, and whispered, “You’re so whipped, Iwa-chan.”

“Shut the fuck up you ugly, unused tinsel.”

“Waaah, Hana-chan! Iwa-chan is so mean to me!”

As Hana played along with Tooru’s stupid antics, and the conversation flowed freely around them, Hajime felt an inexplicable confusion and surprising feeling of comfort and endearment towards this discovery. How could a person, who wasn’t that much sheltered by her family; who understood the bad and the good, as clear as the sun and the moon; who had experienced bad things; who was friend with all type of people; who was present for multiple conversations regarding intimate topics—be this clueless and innocent about it? It was a big mystery to Hajime. Either Hana really was that clueless, or she just didn’t care much about this.

Or maybe, she did know, but didn’t understand the extent of it. This was also a possibility. But the fact remained that she was gullible about this sort of topic, and it gave a sense of comfort to Hajime. That Hana would always be the Hana he knew. That this kind of behavior was so her to the point that Hajime wasn’t even surprised, just a little bit confused. It was… endearing as well, to see her so oblivious and earnest in her replies about it, too. He also discovered that he was progressively getting more and more endeared by literally everything she did.

Smiling, crying, whining, chattering, sitting in silence, angry at the crane games, eating, hopping around, helping people, drawing, talking to Hajime like it was her most favorite thing to do in the world. Nearly everything, really.

“Hajime-san?” Hana inquired, peering close to his face and made Hajime’s heart suddenly climb to his throat. “What are you smiling about?”

He shook his head, opting to hold her hand tighter instead. Smiling when, instead of pushing him for answers, she just smiled and squeezed his hand back before diverting her attention to the circle of conversation at hand.

There were times like this, when Hana’s obliviousness came in spades even with all the teasings and multiple innuendos. There were also times when people tried to get her to spill about her love affair, hoping for dirty details and possibly things to embarrass Hajime about. But she just answered with a cheery smile and ran her mouth about Hajime, about their dates, about how great and caring and understanding he was to her. It was… embarrassing. But, just like this time, Hajime felt his heart fluttered like a mad dog in its cage, the enveloping warmth that felt like it was a sunny day for eternity. Like it was a nice day in a spring time; peaceful, content. Happy.

One of the things Hana was most excited about being a senpai, was meeting Kindaichi and Kunimi. She had heard a lot about them (as well as a certain Kageyama Tobio, a name that Hajime never uttered in front of her beforehand, for good reasons). Understandably, she was excited because these were Hajime’s underclassmen since he was in middle school. But to watch the determination in her eyes, how she vowed to be the bestest senpai to ever grace the earth for them, doting on them, and become a cool, reliable senpai all around—it was both funny and warming, all at once.

Of course, to no one’s surprise, she had failed at that spectacularly, and—though eventually become one of Kunimi’s and Kindaichi’s closest senpai—had instead come to rely on them whenever she tripped or slipped or forgot something (or when she got lost in tournaments, when there were too many people around and she got separated from the team). It was, again, most endearing to see her whined and cried about it, how she had failed to be the bestest senpai to ever grace the earth.

“You’re still the bestest kouhai I had ever wanted in this earth, though,” he said, nuzzling close and kissing the top of her head. “You can be assured of that.”

In an instant, she beamed at him; ultra-shiny today with her newly bought sunflower dress. “Really, Hajime-san? You really mean that?”

“Uhuh,” he nodded, smiling all the while. He found it gradually hard to not smile in the presence of this ball of sunshine and determination, as the time went by.

And then, almost like she had wanted to torture Hajime intentionally, she stepped closer into his space, and laid her head on the crook of his neck, whispering, “You’re the bestest boyfriend I had ever wanted in my life, too, Hajime-san.”

It was the moment that mark the process of Hajime’s ticking time bomb of his self-control.

Sometimes, there were happy days.

Life with Hana in it was starkly different. Hana brought something to Hajime’s life that he knew was missing before. The constant presence of someone that he knew he could anchor himself on; someone he could trust with his heart the way he had never tried before; someone that made the sky seemed a little bluer, the stars a little brighter, and time seemed to be infinitely faster each time they were together. Hajime had never been a clingy type of person, but with Hana, he found himself wanting to spend time a little longer with her, stay by her for one more minute, just enough to see her face and felt the bone-deep contentment and peace.

They dated regularly. Once a week, they’d spend their times watching movies, going on the shopping district, going from one café to another, playing on the arcades, walking around the park talking about everything and nothing. There were complicated types of romance, as was seen on mainstream media. But there was also something simpler; something that fell into place softly, unhurriedly. Like what he had with Hana right now.

They went to lunches together, and somehow got into the habit of cooking for one another. Hana’s cooking got better—especially her cakes and confectionaries—and Hajime got teased mercilessly by his mom, even with her knowing smile in place. They told each other about their day, about things they were interested about, about things that worried them. Hajime wasn’t exactly embarrassed about opening up and talking about his feelings, but people had their own burdens, and he wouldn’t want to impose even further. But Hana… she gave back as much as she gave, refusing to settle for less—both in efforts and her complete trust that Hajime would also did as she had done. And Hajime learned to trust that, to trust her, to open up and not feeling like he was less for admitting that he could be fragile, too.

Ironically enough, it started with the match between Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa. The match that left Hajime so raw, blistered, lost.

Hajime had had his heart broken multiple times in his life. But this time—he couldn’t even breathe from the pain of it. How could he? When everything he could have ever dreamt of, just on the tip of his fingers, were crushed beyond recognition in just a matter of a few minutes? Was the wall that high? Was Shiratorizawa that strong, or was it just Hajime? Who was too slow, too weak—a failure.

His body still trembled from the adrenaline, the shock hadn’t quite registering yet throughout every limbs. He found it hard to even bow to the other team, knew that everyone on his team felt the exact same thing. But for him, for Tooru, this might be their last chance to meet Shiratorizawa in this stage, in this very court. He choked back a sob from the back of his throat, and went to the locker room with numb legs.

There weren’t much the coach could say, and no one stayed around long enough to say anything more, either. Usually, he would stay behind and watch the rest of the match and scout other teams’ tactics. But he couldn’t even think straight right now, beyond the failure, failure, failure that kept spinning around in his head. He was too sensitive, hurt too much in too many places. Hajime had had his heart broken multiple times in his life, but this time—he felt the pain so acutely that he almost keeled over from it.

Hana was waiting for him outside of the locker room, looking worried sick and sad, so sad. Hajime could imagine the same look on his face, with a lot more desperation and numbness. Her eyes were red around the rim; she had been crying. Gods—Hajime wanted to cry too right now, more than anything. He had always expected the possibility of them losing, how painful it would be for him, for the team. But he didn’t know that it would be this crushing.

She held his hand without words as they walked back to the train station. He didn’t say anything, either. Too tired, too sad. He didn’t even know how he was still standing, walking in steady pace with Hana next to him. She was gripping his hand tight; tight enough to be painful, but Hajime was too far gone to even register another source of pain. The streets were bustling about with people, but it was almost empty nearing the station. The bright neon lights on his left and right, the bright atelier of every shop, the loud city—everything seemed muted in Hajime’s head. Oh—oh, Gods—oh Gods the tears—

“But the funniest thing is,” he suddenly said, with voice so unsteady from unshed tears. “The funniest thing is—that I failed them. I failed as their ace, you know? We were so close, so close. And we—we—“

He didn’t know when the tears started, didn’t know how and when they arrived at the station. He just followed Hana’s gentle hand, as she led him to sit on one of the benches. As she held him tight, enveloping him with warmth, holding his broken pieces with soft whispers and caresses. Hajime didn’t even care that he was crying in a public place, didn’t care that they might just miss their train. Hana was crying with him, whispering, “It’s okay, Hajime-san. Please, please, it’s going to be okay—“ over and over again as Hajime’s body was wracked with shuddering sobs.

At that moment, all Hajime felt was the overwhelming sadness. Hana was the only thing he clung onto, gripping tight and hugging her close to him as he cried on her shoulder. All this time, he tried to be a strong, immovable person in front of Hana because he knew that she expected that from him. She felt safe and protected under that assumption, and though it was part of Hajime, too, but this part was also real. The part where he could break and shatter into pieces; hurt and overwhelmed, failed and cried.

“It’s okay, Hajime-san,” she whispered, voice trembling and thick with tears. “Just let it all out, don’t ever hold back your feelings when you’re with me, okay? Even if Hajime-san is such a strong, gentle person, but Hajime-san… I—I want to protect you too. I want you to lean on me too, I want to help you when you’re sad like this, so please—“ the sob wracked her tiny body, and at this point, they were both crying so hard that it was difficult to breathe. “Please, trust me. I’m here; I’ll always be here for you.”

It was a turning point for the both of them. The moment that made Hana understood that Hajime could break and cry; the moment that made Hajime knew that he could trust Hana with his weaknesses and private moments. Like bracing himself for the journey ahead in her galaxy, knowing that no matter how far he went, he would never be lost. Safe and sound in her embrace and warmth.

The force that drove Hajime into spiraling downwards in his lapse of control wasn’t even intimate moments or physical provocations. None of those happened too often in their relationship. Sure, their intimacy were probably off the chart, with how much they made “moony moony” eyes at each other, as Tooru had dubbed. But not in the physical sense of it. Contrary to it, what actually pulled him deeper into the frustration and triggered his ticking time bomb was the mundane, simple thing that Hana did in daily life.

She didn’t even intend to push Hajime’s buttons, she was just doing things as she normally did. In her own ways, which were dangerous enough on its own for Hajime’s heart. She was just—she just—Gods, it was almost like she was intentionally being oblivious and unseeing to the way she slowly, consistently destroying Hajime’s iron strength resolve. He couldn’t even complain about it to her. What was he going to say anyway? Stop being so adorable? Or, don’t do things so endearingly? Or would it be better to just cut to the chase and hit her with stop making me fall even deeper with you? He could already imagine how both of them would just stand there and boiled themselves to death with how much they’d blush. If Tooru ever got a whiff of these thoughts, he wouldn’t live it down to the end of this universe.

There was one time she called him over as they were tidying up the gym after practice. He was putting the volleyballs into the basket, when she suddenly said, “Hajime-san, look!”

When he turned around, he nearly got a cardiac arrest. On Hana’s lips were to potato chips, positioned backwards so they’d form a duck-mouth. She looked so proud of it that Hajime wanted to hit her stupid duck-mouth. Gently. With his own mouth. Did she not understand how dangerous these kind of things were for his heart?

Apparently not, because she looked confused when he hugged her tight, rubbing the top of her head in his frustration. He faintly heard the juniors awkwardly asking Tooru, “Uh… is this normal?” and Tooru answering, “Just let them be. They’ll die if they missed even one second making us single person jealous.”

Or the other time when they went to the arcade, and Hajime won her another plushy. She hugged him tight, unabashed and so dearly happy that she looked even prettier than usual that day. And then, she pulled back, hugged the plushy next to her face, and asked to be photographed just like that. With her cute dress, and the soft plushy resting on her cheeks, and a wide smile on her blushing face. Hajime made it as his wallpaper for two weeks straight.

It wasn’t just those instances. The attentiveness, the exchanged bentos, the shy kisses on the cheeks after their dates. Then Hajime’s birthday came around, and Hana put an arrow right to his heart as they shared their first, proper kiss.

The soft, short peck than felt like an explosion of numerous fireworks behind his eyelids. The scent of her, the softness of her palms as she hold onto his arms, the way she fluttered her eyes close as they kissed. It was all so soft, so warm, so precious that Hajime felt like nothing could ever felt this whole, this complete in his life.

All of those contributed to his lapse of control. Each time, the urge to hold Hana started getting stronger. He just kept noticing how lovely she looked when she smiled, how delicately shaped her fingers were, how soft her lips were when they kissed his cheeks, how small she seemed to be in his arms. Each moment felt like another new nail on his coffin. It almost drove him mad with want; the closeness, the feel of holding Hana so intimately in his arms, the fragile expression she put on. Hajime was still a man with a lot of desires. And day by day, the desire to be closer, closer, closer to her was getting to be overwhelmingly vivid. He just didn’t know when he was going to lose it from all the love he had inside him for this oblivious, precious girl.

Months of their progressing relationship, and Hajime’s progressively diminishing self-control, came to a head on a lunch on a cloudy Tuesday afternoon.

They were having lunch with Kindaichi, Kunimi, and Tooru. All three of them quickly forgotten by Hana as she started conversing with Hajime. At this point, all of them were used to it, and only laughed unflappably as she jolted and squeaked when she realized that they were there as well.

“Don’t mind us Hana-chan, we’re just props on this telenovela,” Tooru said, waving his hand away when she repeatedly apologized. “Go on, go on. We sure love watching you two exchanging moony moony eyes.”

Hajime slapped him on the back of the head, and gave him a piece of his chicken. Their conversation went as usual; clearly, Tooru’s suffering was detrimental to an enjoyable afternoon with friends.

Hana whined that she was falling behind the lesson, and it was only a few weeks away from their exams. Hajime offered to study at his place unthinkingly. Kindaichi choked on his rice, Kunimi absentmindedly slapped him on the back. Hajime was hit with a sense of déjà vu because it looked exactly like what Hana and he did a while back. Oikawa was positively glowing—glowing with a leer, more accurately.

Hana, on the other hand, looked so happy it was almost blinding. “You’ll teach me Hajime-san? It won’t be a bother for you?”

Hajime ignored the rest of them and caressed the top of his girlfriend’s head, feeling the soft strand of hair between the tips of his fingers. “Of course it won’t. I’m glad I can help you.”

“Thank you, Hajime-san,” Hana said, soft, unthinkingly so transparent of her feelings. “And I get to go to your house, too! That will be a first for me, I’m nervous already. What should I bring for your mom?”

Hajime choked on his chicken, and awkwardly told her that not bringing anything was also fine. She insisted to bring her something, however, and finally settled on a basket of oranges. Both his mother and he were fond of those after all. They finished their lunch relatively quick as their class schedules were as tight as ever now that they were nearing exams. As usual, he walked Hana to her class, and waved her away with a smile before going back to his.

As he walked past Tooru’s, however, the trashy asshole pulled Hajime into a dip and dramatically said, “Of course it won’t, Hana-chan. I’m so glad I can help,” he drawled the last bit, putting in as many essence of extravagance as he could possibly have in his body. “My god Iwa-chan, if it wasn’t so cute I’d be grossed out already. Wait—I am grossed out already. Man, Iwa-chan, you’re so far off gone into Hana-chan that you’ll never return to the solar system.”

“Shut the fuck up shittykawa,” he growled out, pushing himself off of the dip and away from Tooru’s cursedly strong arms. “And stop with your weird metaphors, alright? You suck at it. You’re gonna scare Kindaichi and Kunimi away with them.”

“So callous, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa wailed, drawing side glances from the students milling about around them. “How can I recover from this fatal wound?”

He left Tooru and his dramatics, and thought that, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to go back to the solar system anyways. Maybe he wanted to keep exploring the bright, unknown territory of Akeno Hana’s galaxy.

It was Sunday when Hana came to his house, and Hajime was slightly panicking because he couldn’t sleep last night from giddiness as the bags under his eyes were visible. His mom laughed at him and swatted him away when he asked for something to cover them up.

“Honey, I think by now we both know that Hana-chan and you were too far gone into each other to mind such inconvenience like eye bags. Just put on something clean and neat, and you’re good to go. When is she going to arrive, anyways? The cookies aren’t finished baking yet.”

He had cleaned his room twice yesterday, put on some air freshener, put away his trinkets and changed his bed sheets as well. He had wanted to pick her up, but Hana said that her mom would drop her off because she also had to go somewhere. So here he was, waiting with anxiety riddling his stomach on his living room.

“Hajime, seriously,” his mom said, sighing and chuckling a little. “Calm down, you look like you’re constipated. Even Hana-chan wouldn’t find that attractive.”

He scowled at her teasings, and continued checking on his phone every five damned minutes. When he heard the rumble of a car outside of his house, he nearly tripped on the sandals to open the front door.

Hana’s pretty, blushing face greeted him when he swung his door open. He paused for a second to take her in, and gulped audibly. Was she always this pretty, or was it just his frustration these last few weeks that was talking? Either way, she looked stunning in her white dress, holding a basket of homemade bread and oranges in one hand. He coughed awkwardly, and smiled at her.

“Hey,” he said, nervous, trying his hardest to be cool as cucumber. By the small laughter that left her lips, he couldn’t imagine that it was working splendidly.

“Hi,” she replied, shy and incredibly adorable that Hajime was overwhelmed with the urge to hug her. It wouldn’t be appropriate, however, as her mother was still waiting in her car.

Hajime stepped around Hana to wave at the older lady, and bowed a little. She waved back and said, “Have fun, Hana-chan! Just call when you want me to pick you up, okay? Say hi to your mom from me, Hajime-kun.”

She drove past the house into the office district nearby, and Hajime let out a relieved sigh. He had met Hana’s mother multiple time in the past, but his nervousness about their study session was making his circuit went all haywire and weird.

“So, uh, we should go inside. Mom made you some cookies,” he said, gesturing the hall, where his mom’s voice could be heard even from the outside.

Apparently, putting his mom and Hana in the same room proved to be his biggest mistake yet in this relationship. His mom glanced at him with a smug face as he curled on the couch, wanting to die from mortification. After the introduction, and his mom fawning over Hana, they traded recipes on the cookies and the homemade bread. She seemed to like Hana, and Hana looked comfortable enough to relax around her gradually as opposed to how stiff and awkward she was at first.

But of course. As soon as the two ladies got past the initial awkwardness with each other, they launched into a familiar pattern of conversation that Hajime wondered whether Hana was the actual child in this household. And then, the baby pictures. Kill him now—just kill him now. He didn’t think he could live with this sort of embarrassment.

(And he said that Tooru was the dramatic one. Maybe Tooru was starting to rub off him, he thought despairingly.)

When his mom finally let them go, with a wink to Hajime’s direction, he breathed out and ushered the small girl upstairs to his room.

“Your mom is really nice, Hajime-san,” she commented as he unlocked his door. Her giggles were loud and clear as she said, “and you looked so cute on your baby pictures!”

He groaned and rubbed his face. “She always does that every single time someone visits our house. I don’t even know why I bother wasting my embarrassment. She’ll show you even more outrageous pictures of my childhood the more you visit.”

Hana nudged him softly on the side, a grin plastered on her lips. They were a little bit shinier today, a little bit redder. She must have been wearing lipstick, and light make-up too, by the look of it. The make-up framed her face naturally, as if it were never there in the first place. She was pretty, and Hajime sighed internally for the hundredth time today. Every single thing Hana did these days just pushed all of his buttons, in the right places, at the wrong time. He wondered how she would react if she knew that Hajime had been battling his desires over her these past few weeks.

“Does that mean I’m invited for future visits?” she asked, innocent enough. But it still made Hajime’s heart raced through his ribs.

“Uh—“ he stumbled, not sure how to answer that. Of course he wanted her here, possibly all the time. But that’d sound creepy. In the end, he just settled with, “Only if you want to.”

She gave him a brighter smile at that answer. “Of course I’d want to, Hajime-san.”

He returned the smile as they settled on the carpeted floor. Regardless of his teenage hormones, it really would be nice to see Hana more often around here. His mom liked her too, so it wouldn’t be a big problem either.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve learned so far, and which part you’re struggling with.”

Every once in a while, they would take a break, and talked about mundane things. This was nice, he thought to himself. Spending time with Hana was always something he cherished. He really was as whipped as people claimed him to be.

He watched the way she concentrated, and started to lose focus himself. Thinking back about their relationship this far, how much she had become someone who meant a lot to him. The focal point of her charm, and the way Hajime couldn’t escape it. Like an absolute gravity, like a black hole. And he welcomed the warm embrace of her constellation, as he delved deeper into the galaxy that was Akeno Hana. This study session might be his biggest mistake yet. But then again, it could be his salvation, too.

The longer he watched, the more he felt restless. She looked very lovely today in her dress, sitting in his room like it was the most natural thing in the world. She smelled fresh, too. He recognized this perfume; she had worn the same on in their previous dates as well. Something fruity, with undertone of flower and musky earth. He found himself scooting closer to where she sat, entranced by her mere presence. She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t seem to mind. Hajime took this as a clue to get even closer, settling behind her in the end.

Hana did look up this time, but it was only to smile at him and nuzzle a bit to his shoulder before continuing her work. Oh Gods, when would this girl stop driving him crazy? He heaved a deep sigh to alleviate the tension he was feeling. It was harder than he thought. Especially with Hana humming softly to herself, and every once in a while would lean back on him. It was okay, he could endure this as well. He had endured those weeks in the face of Hana’s charm, after all. Today was no different.

But of course it was different. They were in a more intimate situation and location. But to add salt to the wound, Hana looked up, face mere inches from Hajime’s and whispered, “You’re so warm, Hajime-san. It’s really nice, like this.” She drove her point by pushing further into Hajime, and he felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. It really was small wonder that his resolve finally broke after so long.

It started out innocent enough, with soft caresses on her head, feeling the soft strands, combing through them with his big hand; grazing the shell of her ears, making her shudder and let out small laughs. Going back up to massage her scalp lightly, and enjoying the way she relaxed and pushed back into his hand. Her head was tiny in his grip, or maybe his hand was just that big. Hajime honestly couldn’t spare a moment to think about the precision of the statement. But she was tiny, wasn’t she? Smaller than him in every possible way.

Younger, shorter, more slender; her delicate fingers, her thin neck, her tiny face, her small hips. Hajime wondered if he could envelope her whole if he were to lie down on top of her. Wondered if his hands could meet if he held her hips with both of them. Wondered if he could easily haul her to his lap with how light, how small, how endearingly gorgeous she was.

Unintentionally, he scrapped her scalp a little bit harder than he intended, lost in thought. As he was panicking about his lapse of control however, Hana closed her eyes and leaned back to his hand even more; soft sounds coming out from her throat without her realizing it. It might be the sight, might be the way he had been thinking about it, might be the feelings of her in his arms, might be the warmth of her right next to him—looking like everything he had ever wanted, wrapped in a personality that adored and wanted him back just as much.

Maybe it was her gravitational pull. But maybe it was just Hajime, plunging himself into the uncharted territory, and reveling in the exhilaration and small wonders he found.

Or maybe, it was just Hana. Small, cheerful, clumsy Akeno Hana, with her pale, wide eyes and her soft smiles; her soft, reassuring touches and her antics and weird quirks; her honest feeling and her affection that was so readily given and showered upon Hajime. And he wanted her, all of her, so much that he almost ached with it.

His hand sled down to her cheek, thumb swiping gently over the high of her cheekbones. She fluttered her eyes open and looked at him with a confusion that warred with apparent comfort—and want. And it was the last straw for Hajime.

“Hana,” he whispered, low and soft, like he was afraid that even the walls would listen. “May I kiss you?”

Her eyes were a little bit glazed, and she bit her lips, shy and unsure. But she didn’t reject him; she was confused, he realized. Hana probably didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, and was unfamiliar with it as well as her romantic endeavor was even less than his. Hajime waited patiently for her, didn’t move until she looked up again and nodded.

He leaned down slowly, giving her enough time to pull away or to say no. Despite everything, he cared for her deeply. He didn’t want to do something that she didn’t want. But Hana didn’t pull away, not even when Hajime was only a breadth away from her lips, when their breaths mingled with each other; not when he finally drew her in, and closed his mouth over hers.

The kiss started gentle, started with just soft slide of lips against lips; something familiar with them, something warm they could anchor themselves on. He gently guided Hana’s movement, tasting the chemical taste of lipstick and something he vaguely recognized as her, faint as it was. One of his arms wrapped around her middle, pressing her closer than ever. The other one was holding her face in place so Hajime could kiss her a little longer, a little deeper.

He bit lightly at the plush bottom lip, and felt an electric current went through his spine at Hana’s sharp intake of breath. He did it again, harder this time, sucking on her lips as well. He deepened the kiss a little, and was rewarded with a surprised gasp that sounded so lovely in his ears. At this point, Hana was already turning around, chest to chest with Hajime.

Through the clothes, he could feel the softness of her breasts, pushing up against his muscled pecs and making him groan from the back of his throat. He tightened his hold, and Hana let out those small noises that drove Hajime crazy. He kissed her harder than before, coaxing her lips to open under the touch of his tongue. When she finally understood what he was trying to do, and shyly parted her lips under his ministrations, he wasted no time in exploring her mouth—thoroughly.

There was a small ‘eep’ from Hana, as Hajime hauled her to his lap properly, all the while kissing her deep and dirty. He licked every corner of her mouth, chasing the taste of her that felt stronger inside than the door of her lips. Hana was clumsy in her movements, when she tried to tangle her own tongue with his. But even that moment of inexperience was endearing, and sent another jolt of electric current to Hajime, spreading to his every limb and making him lightheaded with want.

He pulled off for a second, and was treated with a sight that would probably haunt his dreams for months on end. Hana looked—she looked wrecked, debauched, even from a small make-out session. Her hair was no longer as neat, what with Hajime caressing and pulling at it. Her lips were bitten-red, shiny with saliva. And her face—Gods. Her cheeks were dusted with red, it looked pretty on her pale skin and Hajime wanted to nip on them to see if they would turn even redder.

The look on her face was not something that he could forget so soon. Hana looked dazed; eyes glazed over and blown wide around the ring. Her lips parted a little, and she tried to refocus on him. She still looked confused at what had just happened. But there was something else on the lines of her small face. Despite the confusion, Hana was welcoming his every approach. She looked… she looked like she wanted it, without even realizing that she was broadcasting her desires to him.

Gods—could she be even more adorable?

Hajime’s body felt hot, even with the conditioner on in his room. The heat from his skin, along with how close he was with Hana in this suggestive position made his head spin with desires that he had locked away from her innocence. He kept it tight under a lid all this time, but how could he be expected to hold himself back with such a wonderful girl right here, a warm, delicate weight on his lap?

His hand on her hips slowly moved further down, caressing the swell of her behind. He leaned in once again to capture those luscious lips, and felt a certain satisfaction when Hana enthusiastically welcomed him into her mouth this time around. She seemed more comfortable, no longer as confused with the kiss compared to the first time. This time, though, Hajime’s hands didn’t stay at one place.

He caressed the side of her face, down to her small neck, finding a specific spot under her jugular that made her moaned into his mouth. Another one behind her ear and a louder one when he scratched his nail a little on her collar bones. It felt hotter and hotter in the room.

Hana’s hands found a place on his shoulders and settled there, gripping his shirt tight when he touched a particularly sensitive place. He continued his exploration as he kept kissing her, feeling an unquenchable thirst the more he got a taste of her. She shuddered when he rubbed the side of her ribs, small caress underneath her breast. He could feel the protective padding of her bra against his knuckles, and wondered how soft it would feel if he were to unclasped it right now.

What would she look like underneath the pretty, white dress, he wondered? What would she look like, lying beneath him, on his bed, out of breath and looking thoroughly wrecked?

These thoughts made Hajime pushed forwards, hands gripping Hana’s exposed thighs tightly and reveled in her little gasps between their kisses. She felt so soft, so lovely under his fingers; he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Hajime-san—“ she moaned out, hitches in her breath when Hajime broke the kiss to mouth at her neck. She smelled incredibly good this close. “Ah—Ha—Hajime—“

He liked it, hearing her little pleases and mewls when he touched her on a certain place, pushed and knead on another. It made him bold, brave. How far he could take this, he wondered? How far would she agree to go? How long would he last under the very temptation in front of his eyes?

Hajime didn’t even realize when he started rocking his hips against her, but Hana’s grip was unrelenting on his shoulders, and the way she closed her eyes and pushed back clumsily— he held her tighter, and pushed upwards into the warm curve of her body. It felt so good, to be so close to her. To rock back and forth against her. So good, felt so warm—so—

All of the sudden, time seemed to stop. Hajime let out a shuddering breath. He let go of a piece of skin he had been sucking on, and pulled back to look at Hana’s face. She hadn’t realized what was happening yet, and Hajime reinstated his iron grip on his control when those eyes opened and he saw an obvious want in them. Hana might not understand this kind of thing, but her body certainly recognized it and went with her instincts.

Fuck, he cursed inwardly. She looked so good like that, and Hajime realized with impending horror that he was hard since a while ago. The look on Hana’s face right now wasn’t helping in the slightest. She looked like she enjoyed it, looked confused why they stopped all of the sudden. She looked like she wanted more, and Hajime prayed that he was granted strength against lovely girlfriends that broke his resolve like a butter.

He heaved a deep sigh, trying to calm himself down, and rubbed Hana’s back gently. He willed his hard-on to flag down, and peppered her face with little kisses along the way. No. He wouldn’t let himself lose control once more and did what he promised to himself he’d only do once they graduated from high school. It wouldn’t be fair to impose this kind of thing to Hana without her understanding properly about it first. Hajime liked her, so much to the point of desiring her; but he also prioritized her safety and comfort first and foremost. His desires could be controlled; it could wait just another year.

“Hajime-san?” Hana finally croaked out, looking a little bit lost, and lot more red on the face once she realized that she was essentially sitting on his lap. “Um—I’m—I’m sorry— was it that bad? Was I—“

He chuckled softly, and shook his head. “No,” he said. “You were absolutely amazing, Hana. It’s just. It’s not the time yet. I like you a lot, you know that, right? A lot. And it’s common for boys my age to get a little intense on that feeling. I want you. Want to be with you, and kiss you every morning, and hold you close with me.”

Hana burned bright red at his words, but listened attentively. She understood that he was saying something important for their relationship. She allowed him to soothe her with calming touches and small kisses on the sides of her face. “I like you a lot, too,” she replied.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling. “But you might not be ready for the intensity I’m talking about. Things I wanted to do to you, with you. We’re not ready for that yet, I think. I’ve been holding it in by myself all this time. I think it makes sense that I lost control like this. But I… I wanted to wait. For you. I want you to be familiar with my desires, and understand about it first, before we continue to the next step.”

She nodded at him, and seemed to be a little lost in thought. “Thank you for taking me and my inexperience into consideration. I’m glad, really glad that you care so much about me. That you’re willing to wait. And—even if I’m not very good at those kinds of thing, but I think—I think I understand what you’re trying to say. You’re really kind, Hajime-san.”

He hugged her close to his chest, kissing the top of her head and laughing to himself. “I can’t believe we just made out when we’re supposed to be studying.”

“Hey!” she laughed along with him, hitting him lightly on the side. “You’re the one who started it!”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for suddenly springing it up to you like that.”

She nodded, smiling a little. Her lips still looked red, even with her lipsticks swept away in-between their kisses. She still looked absolutely stunning, and Hajime’s heart ached with how much he wanted her. He would wait, no matter how long. If it was for her, he’d wait.

He leaned in to kiss her again, just because he could, and because it made her laugh into the kiss. When he pulled away, he threw her a smirk and reveled in the slight shudder that rocked her body.

“I’m serious, though,” he teased, getting close to her face just to see it reddened in pretty blush. “You better prepare yourself, okay? Because I’m not going to hold back anymore once we both graduated.”

She bit her lips at the promise, and thwacked his forehead in retaliation. “Don’t tease me so much, Hajime-san!” she complained, but she was laughing, and leaned her entire weight into his arms as she peck the place she just hit. “Okay. You better wait for me, then.”

“Always,” he said, promised, and drew her in for one last, soft kiss on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled in happiness as she basked in his affections. They looked like millions of little stars in the constellation of her irises, and he felt like he was home. Right here, in her arms, lost in the wonder of her galaxy.

#Iwaizumi hajime #akeno hana #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x oc #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fanart #HaHa couple #iwaizumi fanfic #fanfiction

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kaisa-ryo · 4 years

Text

Megumi Fushiguro NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Nothing can be better than looking at you, studying every part of your face up close. Watch how your eyelashes tremble, how your chest rises and falls, inhaling and exhaling air. So familiar, so lovable. What a beautiful and so necessary face at this moment. From time to time he wants to run his fingers over it, remember it, photograph it. I want to look at your face for a very, very long time. Then he drops those thoughts because he needs to focus on trying to sleep.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Lips.

God, he so enjoys watching you bite them, lick them, paint them with glitter. This is essentially a small insignificant part of the body, but so demanding for courting and kissing. Yes, kisses ... Megumi so wants to touch them and do it yourself: bite, lick, paint with glitter ... After all, they seem so soft and delicious.

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

Into a condom. Even if it is not always convenient and completely satisfactory with an elastic band, Megumi still prefers to protect herself. In addition, it is useless to oppose this if you do not want problems in the future. But if you ever ask him to do it without a condom, he might even agree, though not right away. First, make sure that you really want it, since he was not ready to ever do this. So don't be surprised if he gets worried during the process.

D = Dirty secret

From time to time he thinks about how you will take full control over yourself. It makes him mentally convince himself what a lustful bitch you are for him. He understands how you revel in your own perfection, how this thin erotic veil allows you to devour him with your eyes, hypnotize. It almost makes you a god. But the deity should not so protrude his sexuality in front of his beloved. Therefore, if you do so, then in the morning Megumi will throw some reproach in your direction, but at the same time he himself will remain satisfied and completely satisfied.

E = Experience

There is. If in high school he was a cold-blooded bully with a good appearance, then it is possible that Megumi had favorites back then. Not to say that, under the influence of hormones, he wanted to fuck every girl, because on his mind he had only the goal of maintaining justice with vague and false concepts. Yet he tried it once. She was a girl with high status and good connections, which were beneficial for him to achieve his goal. Sex without commitment is not the best experience that can be obtained, because apart from the pleasure of the process, you do not feel attracted to your partner. But what you just do not go to achieve the goal, right? The guy did not particularly remember that incident, but a clear understanding of the foundations of the art of submission remained.

Now he doesn't want to remember school life, because both character and actions were not sugar at all. In addition, the intentions of what then and what from now are different, one should not exceed expectations. But speaking of being intimate with you, Fushiguro has acquired a real bond that makes intercourse more sensual.

F = Favorite position

A deck chair is a great option. It seems like an ordinary missionary, but both he and you have something to hold on to. And as a bonus, he sees your face, by which he can give an accurate analysis of how well you are now.

G = Goofy (Are you serious at this moment?)

Yes. Despite the main goal of getting pleasure, it is also important for him to control it. He is not afraid to death that everything will go downhill. It's just that perfect sex hasn't bothered anyone yet. In addition, it is not at all difficult for him to do as he wants. Therefore, he feels a great need for complete control over intercourse. If everything is done correctly, he feels proud of himself, which cannot but please him.

H = Hair (Is the hair ok?)

Hygiene is as important to him as every other aspect of his life, especially if it somehow, no matter how, concerns you. You never need to remind him of this, as he himself tries to take care of the intimate area as often as possible. Therefore, he is unlikely to have problems providing comfort for both of you.

I = Intimacy (Romance)

There is. These are mostly cute things that are usually not considered very important, but for you they are like a trophy. For example kisses on the forehead, crown of the head, knuckles of thin fingers, neck and shoulders. It is like a ritual dedicated to love for your beauty and uniqueness. Even if the process is not very sophisticated, you get pleasure every time. Towards the end, you realize that you have gained much more than the warmth from light, but sensitive touch.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

There is such a thing. And you don't have to be far away. If you have not done this for a long time, but for some reason he is afraid or does not want to offer you, then do not mind masturbating to one of your photos in the gallery.

K = Kink (Kinks and fetishes)

The guy is not indifferent to your body, no matter what shape it has. Feel his smell, touch, stroke, listen until all these tenderness reaches light bites, squeezes, licks ... He feels everything much more sophisticated than it seems. And nature is such that subconsciously very subtly feels desires. Even if they are not at all.

He likes it when you walk in sexy pajamas, stockings that accentuate the shape of your legs or open clothes, although he doesn't always approve of this, because he knows perfectly well that he is not the only one who likes your body.

I like to give you different jewelry because they look so perfect on you. It is not for nothing that people say: "It is not clothes that paint a person, but a person's clothes."

For Fushiguro, this is both the main aesthetics and a source of inexhaustible pleasure, which is noticeable with the naked eye.

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Not a lover of variety, so the option with a bed is the most ideal for him. Moreover, the bed is large and soft, which allows you to do a lot without any discomfort. You often feel tired after sex (unless you're a sex addict), so in the case of a bed, you don't have to worry about passing out on the table or floor. Yes, with the bed, you are subject to almost all poses!

Fushiguro is also not cold to the sofa, which is not much different from the bed in terms of sex. On it he can relax while you ride it, clutching his shoulders or pants. The sofa is also a good control plane, which can be easily used if you understand that you need to get up. It's still convenient! Why do you even need a shower and a table?

M = Motivation

When you walk around the house in the open in only panties and a bra. He doesn't like it very much, but heck, he really doesn't want to admit that he is actually embarrassed and it still turns him on. And when he comes to pick you up from home to take you somewhere, and then finds you not ready, in only one underwear, he will be indignant at why you are still not dressed, then he will turn away, covering his face with his hand and making a slightly trembling exhale. At this time, you will notice how his cheeks and ears turn red and giggle softly, pulling on a T-shirt. Once you specifically asked him to fasten his bra, knowing that it will start. After all, in front of him, a close-up flaunts your completely naked back, which you can touch and stroke. It seems that another second and he will lose control of himself and go into a rage. Holding his breath, he will begin to gently stroke the delicate skin and excitedly run his fingers up and down the spine, feeling his legs trembling from the touch. You will have to bite your lips in order not to turn around, and all this time with concentration to look in the direction where your shadows are reflected in a black silhouette on the wall a few meters away.

Also no less exciting for him is your passion for something. If you diligently write an essay, essay, read interesting books, even just tap your nails on a hard surface - he will be immersed in your actions. After all, the main thing for him is not the process of action itself, but how you perform it. When Fushiguro sees you at work, he enjoys every second of what is happening.

N = No (Which won't do)

What he considers to be risk or abnormal.

Megumi is for healthy sex and will not settle for BDSM, role-playing or sadomasochistic procedures. Especially complete submission. It does not arouse and does not cause orgasm from the word at all. He believes that such an idiotic variety was invented by mentally ill people, after whom everything is repeated for the reason of "fashion", public manipulation and self-hypnosis. In addition, in order to decide on such an idea, you either need to be a crazy psychopath, or stop respecting yourself. At least Megumi thinks so and has no doubts about it.

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

In this regard, Fushiguro tries to maintain balance.

Yes, he likes to hear your drawn-out muffled moans. I like how you all wriggle under it and beg you not to stop. I like the way you cum. But it is no less exciting to see how you walk with your thin fingers along the entire length of his penis, and then clasp your lips and swallow it as deeply as possible, periodically circling the head with your dexterous tongue. Therefore, he is not inclined to prioritize. He continues to give you pleasure simply because he thinks it is right, and when he himself wants to feel pleasure, you will guess it yourself by his eyes, facial expression and swaying his hips in time with your movements.

P = Pace

As a rule, Megumi tries to do it in full force. Physical strength is still a man's trump card in love, and should not be underestimated. But it needs to be properly stimulated. Energy should not be pushed to the limit. Fushiguro was used to stretching his orgasm, speeding up and then stopping for ten seconds. Then the surge of feelings becomes even stronger. Too much speed will immediately lead to overwork, and the orgasm becomes smooth and short. It's too predictable. Of course, the guy is not a fan of variety, but that does not mean that you absolutely cannot pamper yourself, right?

Q = Quickie

Average. The most common.

And what else do you need? High speed does not allow you to feel the process properly, and low speed dampens all excitement and quickly gets bored. Medium is perfect for both of you.

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

Not ready.

You shouldn't force him to try new sensations. This will cause him discomfort or even anxiety, which will not lead to the best outcome. Once you talked to him about this, at the end he said that he didn’t like it and asked him not to bother with this topic anymore, since even the thought of it introduces him into slight stress. Not because of the experiments themselves, but the very fact of their fear. He is currently struggling with this because he wants to be completely perfect for you. However, it is unacceptable for him that it is easy for him to control the process, but it is so difficult to start experimenting in terms of sexual relations. He will definitely deal with it. Not right away, but it will cope.

S = Stamina (Stamina)

Pretty decent

Getting pleasure is enough for both of you, so you have the strength to wash in the shower, make tea, read a book and just lie around, warming your bodies with hugs. It even happens that there is enough strength to walk along the street, restoring not only physical balance, but also emotional one. Still, a walk in the fresh air with conversations on various topics does not let you forget that your love is real and is not a farce for sexual gratification.

T = Toys

It treats all their varieties badly.

Another trinket invented by the unbalanced and sexually addicted. You both have enough and an ordinary hookup without stupid "decorations".

* In fact, once the thought flew through his head about how you would react if he shoved a vibrator into your vagina as close to your clitoris as possible. And how he later, in all seriousness, assured himself that he would not offer you such a thing for anything. Recalls a magazine article about sexual fantasies among teenagers at thirteen. As a result, having mentally slapped myself in the face, I never thought about it again.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Yes!

He doesn't like to admit it, but oh my god, how your pleading and sobbing drives him crazy. At such moments, he seems to be in seventh heaven. He would like to listen to them, but then all the pleasure from the upcoming orgasm will disappear. He wants to satisfy his desire as soon as possible, but he really doesn’t want your sweet voice to stop at such seconds ... And when you finally finish, everything inside him contracts. Because now you shout his name instead of muffled moans. It feels like he is special to you. Yes, only he can make you make a mess in your body, which was just so obedient. Only with him can you finally plunge you into ecstasy.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

At first, he is silent, as if swallowed his tongue. But by the middle it already starts to grow. But if you only knew how uncontrollable he is in the end ... although, why am I crucifying here? Of course you know.

At this time, along with orgasm, he realizes how fucking he is. So inside him begins a feverish flow of internal current, and at the same time a fire flares up in his heart, turning into a high.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

When you first slept, the spontaneous thought came to you to look into his phone. Nothing criminal, you just wanted to make sure you were the first.

Waking up first and looking at the phone, which surprisingly had no password, you checked the list of contacts that were not embellished in some way, and in general there were not as many of them as you expected. But you, apparently, so much enjoyed digging into his personal life, feeling like a real Sherlock, that you decided to look at Google. There already began something from which you simply could not help but emit an unrestrained laugh: more than ten tabs related to sexual relations, the structure of the vagina, the consequences of the "first time", precautions for intercourse and a bunch of other things. You could hardly restrain your laughter so as not to wake up your loved one, who apparently became a real Alpha and a sex guru in just one evening.

It's been a long time since that moment, but you still haven't admitted to him that you then got into his phone.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

14.5 cm during erection ± 1

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

Megumi cannot be called “lonely-touchy-with-a-broken-heart”, but “addict” is certainly not about him. This is an unexpected manifestation of desire when he himself begins to kiss your neck, in the hope of showing your initiative. Usually you make love at your request or at a noticeable hint. Fucking you in bed, he is not looking for any benefit for it and is not chasing cheap bonuses. He thinks that he is simply satisfying his sexual need, and does not go further so that you, too, do not get hung up on sex as an important part of your life.

4/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

Quickly, if you are not trying to distract him with conversations (you are not always sure that you did everything right and completely satisfied him).

If you want to annoy him with requests, for example, if you are cold and you tell him about it, he will immediately cover you with a blanket. But you are more cunning and you do not need a blanket at all, but his strong arms.

— Mmm... and I wanted to warm myself in your arms...

Then Fushiguro will roll his eyes, sigh loudly and hug you from behind.

— I want you to kiss the top of my head! — you will rather smile when he reluctantly, but still will do it.

— Will you sing me a lullaby? - then the guy will understand that further you are just making fun of him.

— Maybe you still dance?

— What a good idea! Stand by that closet.

— Sleep, princess.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

#jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #alphabet

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dylanlila · 3 years

Text

Scrapbooks of flowers

the third photograph: scrapbook of lotuses

"Story to story Building to building Street to street We pass each other on the stairs" - The Stairs, INXS

Revelius Sparks looks pleasant enough. His smile that tries almost too hard not to be a smile, his hands in his pockets and his eyes occasionally offering her an unreadable look. His sweater, on the other hand, looks rather disturbing. Improper. Disheveled. Messy. There are tiny colourful stains all over it (paint?) and there's a little hole on his shoulder. A hole revealing a bright yellow shirt he has underneath. Audrey Claire finds it weirdly comforting unacceptable. Her coming here was also unacceptable. But then again, wasn't that the idea? Wasn't she supposed to be doing something drastically different? And Revelius Sparks is someone she normally wouldn't have crossed paths with. There were days when he would come to school with his longish hair sprinkled with glitter. There were days when he would attend classes in mismatched shoes. Sometimes, he would come wrapped in a giant, ridiculous, red scarf that looked like it came straight out of his grandma's closet. As opposed to that, there were days when he would look completely normal. Jeans, shirts, jackets, neatly crafted hair (suddenly cut short), no glitter in sight. She knows these things because everybody knew them. Everybody might not have particularly enjoyed Revelius Sparks (he seemed to be... too much of... everything, you know?), but everybody knew who he was. Although, apparently, life goes on after high school and people usually turn out to be much more than one dimensional paper dolls once given a chance (at least that's what she's heard and she's trying out new things). So, Audrey Claire stands up from her recently found seat at the coffee shop and softly taps the shoulder of the so called Revelius Sparks, who's the last one waiting in line to order something. Three times, three times barely grazing his improper, disheveled, messy, unacceptable sweater. One. Two. Three. - Hi, I'm Audrey Claire, we used to go to the same high school. It's utterly absurd, the statement, considering how they were the souvenirs of that very same high school weeks not decades ago. Revelius Sparks doesn't seem to acknowledge the absurdity. His eyes are glossy and his cheeks are lightly freckled, she notes. - Oh, hi, I'm so happy to see you. Another absurdity, she thinks. How could you be happy to see somebody that you never properly met? Were never properly introduced to? - Nice seeing you. She mutters and turns around, ready to leave (and avoid any further discomfort). She hears him say something in response, but she's already out of the foreign lands. Task: (technically) failed.

*** She tucks her hair behind her ear a lot. The right one. Or she's been told. She's never actually picked up on it herself. Her hand holding a pen, a paper in front of her. She's only doodling various dresses, dresses she would like to own, dresses she would like to create. She might have been a designer if things were different, but even then, she isn't sure if that would have been the right thing to do. She's supposed to go to law school in the fall and be a lawyer because that's what she was always supposed to do. You are most certainly coming up with assumptions now, something like: "her parents are forcing her into it" or another cliched idea like "she's doing it to honour her late late grandfather Walt who was a lawyer back in the day". Guess what? She isn't doing any of that. Her grandfather's name is not Walt either. It's only something she's always talked about, the only thing she could see herself doing. Fancy blazers, marvellous court rooms... It all seemed extremely Audrey-like. At least, that's who Audrey Claire was at school. She never picked up on it before, just like she never picked up on the hair thing, but Audrey doesn't know how to be Audrey without school. You must think she's mad. Well, she ought to be. Who in their right mind misses school assignments and studying for exams and writing three page essays? Yes, she's going to college to learn, but it's not the same, isn't it? It's more about her future and less about getting gold stars for the sake of her future. And now, when she earned her future, she doesn't have to earn any more gold stars. That's supposed to be a good thing. That is a good thing. The drawings are nice. Fairly simple, but quite nice. She picks them all up and throws them in the pink trash can beside her desk. It's not like anybody is coming to check them out. Audrey crosses her arms, let's herself fall even deeper into the chair and closes her eyes. Next thing she knows, she's dreaming of stars. *** "She's spinning and spinning and spinning. Her dress swirling around her, her feet barely touching the ground. The grass is so green and the sun is so bright and she is spinning. People have forgotten about the beauty of the natural world but she never did. She's coming from whenever, breathing in wherever, she's dreaming of a different age. She's spinning and spinning and spinning and whole, entire, wonderful worlds are spinning along with her." Audrey Claire doesn't know why and how she ended up here. The only thing she's aware of are the words that Revelius Sparks is sharing with her and the rest of the room. She's surprised that the town theatre is open this late in the night, but then again, she's never been to one. Not as a (theoretical) adult at least. Revelius Sparks is sitting on the very edge of the stage, his leg rhythmically swaying to a beat she presumes must be the one only he is able to hear. She can't quite figure out if he's singing, reciting or acting. It might be all three. Once he's finished with his little performance, he gets up, adjusts his funny colourful scarf and smiles. The few people that are in the room are clapping, but it's obvious that he's not smiling at them. It's not that he's smiling "at no one in particular" either. It's more like he's smiling at something that should be there but tragically isn't. Audrey doesn't get up from her seat. Not even when everyone else is gone. She can't move. All she can do is think about these people and how they all were in here together for one fleeting moment. All breathing the same air, all hearing the same words. And now they all went home. They all went home to hear different words and breath different air. They all went home a tad bit different. They all went home and she's still there. *** Audrey keeps visiting the theatre. Her appearances aren't scheduled. Her legs simply decide that the only correct option is to bring her there and she goes along with it and she comes and each time she discovers another way to listen. Another way to be.

Sometimes, she doesn't even pay attention to the meaning of the words spoken by whoever is on stage. It all sounds wonderfully interesting, and the chairs are so wonderfully comfortable and she's so wonderfully there. She isn't the one to explain it, but it feels quite important. Doing something without a clear purpose. Revelius isn't always present. But when he is, he talks? sings? recites? about endless fields full of flowers, souls too free to be kept away and voices too long forgotten not to be heard. Those are all his descriptions and she remembers them because she's good at remembering and she even writes some of them down. She doesn't try to understand them and never does she go through them once they are written. But something about notebooks filled with various little words makes her feel happy and content. Revelius refers to himself as a "wanderer of flowery youths and incadescent hearts". Audrey thinks his "stage name" has no right being that long and of course she finds it (almost) unbearably preposterous but it's also kind of funny and pronouncing it out loud, when she's all alone with nobody but herself to hear, brings her immense joy. It reminds her of all those poems she had to learn for school. She never properly meets Revelius. They never talk, she never looks for him and he never notices her (or anybody else for that matter) while he's fulfilling his duty as a wanderer. They never randomly run into each other. They never have a deep conversation that magically resolves all of their respective issues. They never watch the sunset, buy each other sweet unnecessary expensive things or kiss in the rain till they're both out of breath. They never fall in love. The truth is, Audrey doesn't feel the need to meet him. She's just really really glad that he's around. *** She's dressed in black, but her freshly discovered scarf is screaming in bright yellow. The sidewalk is wet and slippery. People are walking, shouting, running, talking and exchanging. Moving. Her sparkling red suitcase is following her and her brand new shoes are ruined. Her feet are completely soaked. Her hair is a bit messy. She can feel tangled strands of it all over her face. She wasn't expecting rain today. But then again, she didn't exactly plan on paying a visit to the train station, let alone catching an actual train. The city looks different once fall comes. The leaves are crunchy and dressed in various colours. The air is colder. Everyone's cheeks are flushed. Once fall comes, people turn into portable paintings. Audrey takes a few seconds to admire the unlikely art exhibit. Her hand moves to position the scarf around her neck. Too tightly wrapped and a bit crooked it was, she thinks. Exactly three minutes pass and she's in the train, glittery notebook in hand. She doesn't open it, but she recalls the coordinates of each and every word gracing its pages. "What a wonderful collection of incadescent hearts...", she mummers under her breath and the woman across from her shots her a confused look, but Audrey doesn't notice any of it. She's too busy experiencing creations much more pleasant. She lets her head rest against the window frame.

And when her gaze welcomes the glorious landscape on the other side of the glass, her eyes are full of gold coloured stars. "You are beautiful and sad" I said finally, not looking at him when I did. "Just like your eyes. You're like a song I heard when I was a little kid, but forgot I knew until I heard it again." - Maggie Stiefvater

#scrapbooks of flowers #art #music #coming of age #ocs #my writing #flowers #flower meanings #youth

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sugiwa · 3 years

Text

Hi. I am the Advice Anon. Please ignore those asks! I am so sorry for spamming your ask box. I still need help, so I’ll paste the entire thing over here. Again, sorry and thank you! Have a great day!

My reply and the full ask are below:

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day so far. This is probably unlike all of the other asks you get on a daily basis, author. However, I am in dire need of help, and I have turned to you. Before I begin, I want to apologize in advance, as this ask is going to be long. Now, like I said before, I need some help. You see, I am a freshman in high school, and school hasn’t even been going on for a full 10 weeks (a quarter), and I am already in a huge, messy, sticky situation. You probably already know that in high school, you need a certain number of credits in each field to be able to graduate. I am going to be extremely vague about this because it doesn’t really matter, and I’d really like to remain anonymous, if you know what I mean. One of the fields is World Languages and Visual Arts. Obviously, I am not talented enough to do Visual Arts, so I opted for World Languages instead. My teacher for the course I chose this year… she’s nice. Really kind, and I love that she makes learning a whole new language and culture, which is extremely hard, so much fun. And the fact that she’s one of the nicest teachers I know makes the rest of this so, so painful for me. 4 days ago, for me, was a Thursday. In this class, we had a vocab quiz that day (background info: two days before every quiz, my teacher posts a practice quiz to be done before class starts). I don’t really want to discuss what happened, as it still brings tears to my eyes, but I will give you a vague summary of what was going on. Basically, I couldn’t access my quiz (it was online), so my teacher told me to come in after school to re-do it. I was supposed to close down my computer and work on homework from another class, but instead of doing so, I worked on the practice quiz. And… this was considered cheating, because I was getting extra practice in before taking the quiz– something that the other students didn’t get, you know? My teacher saw my computer screen, and told me that she’d talk to me after school, and she’d be calling home. I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the class, because I was afraid of what might happen when she called home. After school, she told me to speak with her, and be honest about it. When cheating happens, at our school, the teacher will write us up for Academic Dishonesty and give it to the administration, who then decides the consequences. My teacher had told me that if I was honest with her, she wouldn’t write my up; she’d just give me a zero on the quiz and call home and tell them what I did. I was honest with her, because like I said before, I was afraid. Once I told her everything that happened, she told me that I could call home, let them know what happened myself, and I’d be off the hook (with a zero on the quiz, of course). So, I called home, like she had asked of me, but… they didn’t pick up. I told her that they didn’t pick up, and she told me that it was fine, and that she’d talk to my parents in-person before they picked me up from school. I’m not going to lie, that terrified me more than calling home. I don’t really remember what happened after that, because I was too busy crying, but I do remember that she mentioned something about me doing this before, and that it was not OK to do it the second time, but she’d let me off the hook. The thing is, I am 100% sure I haven’t done this before… or maybe she just didn’t approach me the first time. I told her that I didn’t do this before, and she told me that I was lying again, and began to write me up. I told her that I didn’t mean to do this, and that I was sorry, but she told me to stop lying. She said that she DID approach me the first time I did this, and that I was rude to her then. This brought tears to my eyes– my kind of favorite teacher telling me that I was rude to her. You see, I didn’t grow up here, and although I’ve lived here for 4 years, I am not used to the way people interact here. It was very different where I grew up. For example, you didn’t ask each other how their day was, or what they did during their day, unless you were REALLY curious or concerned, because that was considered nosy and rude. So, I tend to be unintentionally rude, and completely oblivious to it; I have no idea when I’m being rude or not, unless someone specifically says so. I also don’t really understand people well, so that’s a huge problem. So… hearing this from her, really hurt. I told her that I didn’t intend to be rude, and I was trying my best to change (I mean, I was & am reading a book to teach me etiquette and all), and she replied with “that’s good to hear”. Then, when my parents came to pick me up, she talked to them, and even asked one of my parents to walk with us to the Administration Office to turn in the write up. Stuff happened, I got called into the Assistant Principal’s office, and now I have a zero on my quiz (and my homework activity that I never finished), Saturday School, and a black mark on my record. But the thing is… that’s not what I’m concerned about at all. Sure, getting my grades up in time for Progress Reports is going to be an extremely hard task, and Saturday School is going to leave a huge black mark on my record, but that’s not what I’m worried about. My grades have been fractured, but so has my relationship with this teacher. I feel as though she hates me now, that she has lost all trust in me. (Background info: our school does Odd and Even days, so I have half of my classes on one day and half on the other, so that means that I didn’t face my teacher at all on Friday) 3 days ago, on Friday, when I went to school, it was an average day. It would have been an amazing day, had it not been for the situation I was in. All I could think about that day was my World Language teacher. And just thinking about her, and about that classroom, it… gives me a bit of anxiety. This is where I need your help. What would you do if you were in my situation? I really want to repair my relationship with my teacher, because I know that she’s really important; we’re going to be on the same campus for the next 4 years of my life, and even more importantly, she’s going to be my teacher for the next 8 months. I want to graduate with good grades, but more importantly, I want to graduate without holding a grudge against my teacher. I want her to like me, and I want to gain her trust again. Today is a Sunday for me, and I have to go back to school tomorrow, and I have her class then. A part of me is really scared to go to school, a part of me is really angry at my teacher for reporting me (even though it was the right thing to do), and a part of me wants to ditch school tomorrow, or even drop out or transfer from her course, all because I don’t want to face her after I did the wrong thing. It’s not only that, either. I’ve also been avoiding my friends. Would you like to know why I am confiding in awesome strangers on the internet anonymously instead of letting my friends know what’s going on? It’s because I’m afraid that they won’t like me anymore, and they’d ditch me or something. They’re amazing people, and I know that they won’t do that, but a part of me is still paranoid. I’ve been avoiding my friends since Friday, barely talking to them at school, and texting them a little bit in our group chat. They don’t really suspect anything, but that’s good. And that’s why I am asking you. Not just you, but actually anyone who sees this, if they helped me, I’d really appreciate it. I really need help moving forward in this situation, and I’m desperate for help. My parents don’t understand the situation I’m in, and I’m too scared to talk to my friends about it, so I’d really appreciate the help. It’s OK if you don’t reply to this, author. I know that this doesn’t affect you in any way, so you’re not obliged to help me. I’d like to thank you for taking the time from your day to read these extremely long asks. Have a great day. P.S: I absolutely love What Heroes Do! Izumi is such a well written character, and sometimes, I see myself in her. The way she handles situations is so inspirational! And your writing skills are top-tier! My best friend and I actually started writing a book 4 years ago (I mean, we wrote for one month in 6th grade, and then spent one day in 8th grade editing it, and we’ve only got a prologue and 1.5 chapters done, so… clearly, we aren’t doing a good job lol), and you’ve inspired me to go back to that book and re-do it! Thank you so much for being such an inspiration and an idol of mine! Ilysm ❤️

sugiwa:

I wanted to take the proper time to reply to this. I think any adult willing to hold a grudge against a child is in the wrong. You clearly made a mistake and are now taking steps to improve and learn from it. Additionally, I think teachers tend to forget how much stress students are under in their academic and private lives, so a mistake should be used as an opportunity to teach not punish. I don’t think that you should worry about what this teacher thinks of you. Your teacher didn’t believe you, despite you telling them the truth. No matter how kind or nice someone is, their behavior towards you will always reflect their inner thoughts. If you’ve clearly made a mistake, you should fight to prove that. It’s not as if you intended to ‘cheat,’ given the situation we’re all in with the pandemic, online classes and quizzes are the norm. These kinds of things probably happen regularly. Additionally. I don’t think you need to concern yourself with being rude. My culture is rather blunt and when I first moved here, people weren’t fans of brutal honesty, so it was a big cultural shock. If people aren’t willing to learn about your culture and understand, then I don’t think they’re people worth hanging out with. Lean on your friends, I don’t think they’d make a big deal over a couple of mistakes and if they do, then it might be worth reconsidering why you were friends with them.

Thank you for your kind words about the story and I really hope everything works out for you!!

#submission #anon

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cupcakemolotov · 4 years

Text

Fall With You

I ended up pinch hitting for the exchange! It was fun, if slightly wild 48 hours to put this together. Written for the lovely @queencarolinemikaelson. I’m really glad you enjoyed it since it ended up being a fluff fest of roommate co-hab. Also a big thank you to @bellemorte180 for putting this graphic together!

I put the first but under a cut, bit under a cut, but the full story is almost 9K, so the link to the story is at the bottom. :)

Summary: When life throws her a curve ball in the form of her good looking, yet moody roommate, Caroline takes it in stride as best she can. Her living situation was a favor, after all, and rent is anything but cheap in NYC. Its the part where she actually starts to like him that she can't quiet figure out how to manage. Lust was one thing, but feelings?

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate; Universe - Human; Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates; Minor Character Death; not otp; Family Drama; Family Dynamics; Fluff and Humor; Domestic Fluff; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Mild Smut; Human Caroline Forbes; Human Klaus Mikaelson; Living Room Picnics; Wine; Dates That Aren't Dates; They Could Really Get Their Shit Together Faster; but not really; Making Out; Some petting; NSFW just to be safe

It was almost three am, her feet were killing her, and her key was stuck in her front door.

Seriously, what was with her luck today? The door had always been finicky, but until earlier this week the lock had been behaving itself. It’d gone from not wanting to turn properly to straight up mutiny in four days. It was an easy fix, unlike the door, but it also required a trip to the store and she just hadn’t had time. Amazon could have delivered the powdered graphite, but she was on a budget and believed in shopping local.

Her two year savings plan to finish her degree would not manifest itself if she bought things simply because they were convenient.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline seriously considered just leaning up against the door jam and spending the night outside. It was early summer, and the air had cooled to a balmy sixty-five degrees, leaving the usually stifling hallway almost comfortable. If only she didn’t smell so heavily of beer. Shifting her weight, she winced as her shoes squelched, a reminder of the truly spectacular ending to her night. Her eight hour shift had almost doubled when the night shift manager had called in sick. Usually that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the only other person with keys was out of town leaving Caroline holding the bag to close.

She knew from experience that she had about an hour before she crashed, the rush from kicking out the lingering guests who had been clearly on an epic brawl crawl having mostly faded after the hour long subway ride home. Right then, the only thing keeping her upright was the fact that she was starving, her dinner had been rushed and only half eaten, and the knowledge that if she made it into her apartment she had the next two days off. Tomorrow she could sleep in, and if she was really lucky, her roommate’s night had gone well enough he could be coaxed into making pancakes.

Cheered by the thought, Caroline dug out her cell phone from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and checked it for a response. She hadn’t been sure if Klaus had beaten her home or if he was still out celebrating, but either way, he hadn’t bothered to respond yet. Her lips compressed into a thin line.

Usually, she could depend on Klaus to be awake when she finished a night shift, her roommates' hours were only reliable on how sporadic they were and depending on her schedule, hers weren’t much better. But with his big event tonight, she had no idea what he had decided to do. Honestly, would it kill the man to respond to her texts?

She’d expected him to ignore her rapidly typed apology and well wishes she’d sent in-between bites of food. Klaus wasn’t particularly good at handling sentiment of any kind and supremely anti-emoji, and she’d made a point to send several of them. She’d hoped it’d give him something to be annoyed about that wasn’t his evening plans. He needed to schmooze, and a scowl-y Klaus would not accomplish that at all.

He could be charming, when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. He just didn’t deploy full dimples unless he wanted something. Her reminders the night before that he needed to earn his half of the rent without getting carpal tunnel hadn't impressed him.

Too bad. She’d been right, and he’d known it.

He had mentioned a couple of his friends were trying to talk him into drinks afterwards, back when she had thought she might be able to join him. Usually, she would be thrilled that he was getting out and actually seeing people instead of trying to live off granola bars and tea. But right then she really wanted him to be home and grumpy so he could unlock the door. She wondered if texting Marcel with an S.O.S would be rude?

Things were a lot less complicated when she only liked Klaus for the rent he helped cover. Wanting him home, even just for a lock-related emergency wasn’t a thought she would have had even six months ago. Klaus was not what one would label as a comfortable roommate for most of the time. He was far too prickly for that, and he could be snarly in the mornings. Which fair, so could she, but the moodiness. Caroline hadn’t been one to spend much time around the art scene, either at Uni or in high school, but she’d spent the last year learning that there was a lot to be said about artistic temperaments, most of it unflattering.

She was fairly certain Klaus had been born a contrary grump, his winning personality had nothing to do with his chosen profession, she could certainly see how he’d been drawn to the lifestyle, talent aside. Most people immediately laughed off his acerbic tongue once they learned he was an artist, his behavior brushed aside as temperamental. His goods certainly helped his cause, and his accent added a layer of charm that otherwise might not have existed.

She was not so forgiving.

The first few months of their co-hab had not been easy. Klaus was messy, absent minded, and had ruined three of her towels with paint splatter before she’d blown her lid. The apartment was small enough that avoiding each other was nearly impossible, and her preferred kind of stress relief had to be timed for when she was alone, and so they’d been forced to deal with their annoyances. To Klaus’ credit, while he’d been snappish in return, he’d somehow managed to keep a lid on the worst of his temper.

They’d argued, multiple times, they were both stubborn and used to being right, but they’d eventually found some kind of middle ground. Snapping had softened into bickering, and Caroline had stopped nitpicking him about his notebooks being spread across the house and the incorrect way he rolled his toothpaste, and he stopped leaving towels on the floor and made a point to contain his absentminded mess to his room.

And then they started to talk, sometimes about work, sometimes about art, and she’d realized she kind of liked him as a person. She’d started dragging him to her group lunches on her days off, much to Rebekah’s despair, and they might have become something like friends. Except for the part where every so often, she’d look at him and something about the way he stood, the angle of his jaw or the line of his throat left her wanting to jump his bones.

It was really frustrating, when her existence didn’t even seem to phase him.

So she’d done her best to ignore whatever that little spark was between them when it flared up, and not upset the status quo. Because the past year had been better than she could have imagined. Before her mom had died, she would never have considered the life she found herself living now as a good one.

She’d just wrapped her third year at NYU, had exactly 24 hours of classes left before graduation, and had managed to wrangle her schedule so that her final semester would be a cake walk of classes. The cherry on top had been the kick ass internship she’d lined up for the summer. Her five year plan was perfectly on track, her excellent grades gave her a shot at graduating with honors, and she couldn’t wait to show her mom around New York City from the eyes of a local. She’d spent three years putting together a binder, collecting menus from her favorite places to eat and brochures from all the museums and the jam packed tourists locations to offer her mom some variety.

Then she’d gotten that phone call that had thrown everything into a tale spin.

Blowing out a breath, Caroline bounced on her toes and debated best her course of action. She could probably get her key out of the lock if she was very careful, though the past twenty minutes said her luck wasn’t great, Forbes women were nothing if not stubborn, but there was also a chance she would break the key off in the lock and she could already see the little smirk on Klaus’ face if she did. Her hand tightened on the strap of her backpack. He still hadn’t forgiven her for being far more comfortable with power tools than he was and her perfectly reasonable gloating probably hadn’t helped much, if she was honest.

She kind of didn’t regret it. Poking Klaus sizable ego was a favorite past time of hers, and he seemed to enjoy their back and forth as much as she did. Her mental tally had her up two points this month, and she wanted to keep her lead.

Unfortunately, things weren’t really going in her favor just then. Sighing, Caroline tucked her phone back into her bag and admitted defeat. She’d have to figure this one out herself. Either Klaus’ event had run long and he had actually taken her advice to schmooze people or he was home and had drunk enough that he was sleeping like the dead.

Either of those options would not help her now.

Her best bet now was to go and eat a giant piece of pie, drink her weight in caffeine, and trudge her way to the little mom and pop shop that sold a little of everything, including graphite, once it became a reasonable hour. She’d fix her lock and then crash for the following eight hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep, and leave a very pointed sticky note on the coffee pot so Klaus knew not to disturb her.

Satisfied with the makings of her plan, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, mentally reviewing the pie menu, and paused when the elevator dinged from behind her. Sliding her teeth between her lip, Caroline turned and blew out a breath when she recognized the tumble of ruffled curls stepping into the hall. The hallway was dimly lit, so it took a moment for her brain to really understand what else she was seeing.

Klaus was wearing a tux.

Logically, she’d known he was going to be wearing one. His event that night had been important, his work had finally made it into a gallery tonight and it was a Big Deal. His first real show outside of the fancy art school he had attended, and he had spent months fretting over his work and brooding silently in his room as nothing met his incredibly exacting standards. Klaus had even brought home a couple of canvas to work in the questionable light of his bedroom instead of the small studio space he and five other artists pooled their money to share.

Much to her annoyance.

No amount of febreeze really removed the scent of acrylics and turpentine, and she’d been worried if she tried to burn her stash of scented candles something would catch on fire. She’d held her tongue though, because Klaus was never nervous. He was in fact annoyingly difficult to rattle even in the most ridiculous of situations, the man had absolutely no shame, and the way he’d almost jittered had been weird and kind of enduring. Since he’d seen her in numerous states of frantic and alarmed, it was nice for things to end up on a little more even ground for once. She’d done her best to force him to eat something that looked like actual food every so often, and tried to stay quiet when she knew he was working in his bedroom.

She’d even helped him pick out the tuxedo from the catalogue he’d brought home from the store he had planned to rent from. There was a fancy evening gown that she’d rented hanging in her closet that Caroline had planned to wear to go with him before work had made that impossible. But knowing all that, and actually seeing him in that tux were not nearly the same thing.

Caroline blinked rapidly. Her paint speckled roommate, with his surly attitude and annoying dimples, was wearing a tux. And he looked really, really good. He’d undone his tie so it hung loosely around his neck, and his jacket was loose and unbuttoned around his waist, his curls still somewhat tamed along his forehead. Something very much like arousal jolted through her as he looked up, the low light highlighting the scruff along his jaw and the length of his neck. For a moment, he just stared at her, as surprised as she and then his head tipped and his brow arched, lips tugging up at the corners.

“Waiting on me?”

The rest can be found here: A03

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #exchange fic

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.11}

*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: 4.2k

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

______________________________

While Robin's wound really did only feel like a pulled muscle at this point, she still had had to agree that their last excursion which had been planned for this Saturday should better be canceled for the sake of her recovery. Thus they spent the remainder of the day mainly by reading, working on editing the handbook, and drinking too much coffee for their own good. However it was only when evening rolled around that they finally decided to take a look at the damage beneath the bandages that were still wrapped around Robin's middle, only to find that the only reminders of the previous evening were an admittedly horrendous bruise, and a pink scar that ran along the arch of her lowest rib at the length of about a finger. Oh well… it wasn't pretty, but considering the circumstances, Robin still found herself glad that it wasn't worse, and Snape simply didn't comment on it at all. Indeed, he seemed to be rather relieved when she dropped the hem of her t-shirt back down (and thereby covered the bruised skin of her stomach), which was a reaction Robin simply refused to think about in either direction.

After that the evening trickled by comfortably like most of their evenings did by now, calm and easy and filled with conversations about everything and nothing, and before long they made dinner like they usually brewed their potions; late at night, together, and each knowing their perfect place in the process wordlessly. Robin appreciated every single second of the evening, like she had loved every second of the day. But that made it all the more painful to think that this wouldn't last, not even beyond morning. Most likely was that it would never happen again, none of this, and that thought was what twisted her heart and put a lump into her throat as she was sitting on the sofa in front of the lit up fireplace once more, a good while after their meal.

It was a surprisingly cold and stormy night for late August, even for England, and while the rain was whipping against the windows now, and the wind howling through the small cracks and gaps in the walls, Robin couldn't bring herself to enjoy it. She had wrapped herself into the blankets again, trying to focus on the book in her hands while Snape in the armchair nearby was doing the same. But no matter how much she tried to keep the gloomy thoughts at bay, the feeling of painful loss just wouldn't leave her alone, and the fact that she couldn't possibly miss something she had never had in the first place irritated her enough to draw every focus away from the book and into her own head. Why was she feeling so sad all of a sudden? The day had been lovely, the evening too… and yet here she was, trying not to cry over absolutely nothing. It wasn't just the realization that the day had been too good to be true, that it would never last, that it had only been an exception… none of that would suffice to upset her like this. They'd had times like this before, in a different way, and they would have them again. She wasn't concerned about that, not really… but then what was it that troubled her mind?

"Stop it." Snape's voice disrupted her downward spiral of thoughts, and Robin tried to open her eyes only to find that they were open already, and staring into empty space. Probably had been for a while at this point.

"Stop what?" She asked in mild irritation and looked over to him instead, not without taking notice that he had placed his book down and was returning her gaze. Probably had been for a while at this point, too.

"Getting lost in your own head. Letting your thoughts drag you to dark places you have no need to dwell in."

"How do you know that that's what I was doing?"

"Was it not?"

"Yes, but how do you know?"

He sighed softly, then sat up straighter. "You haven't turned a page in half an hour, which is the time you usually would need for a quarter of an entire book of this kind. Then, while you obviously have been thinking, you did not make an attempt to share your thoughts with me, which is what you usually do with anything that isn't negative. In return, this means that whatever you have been thinking about is unpleasant for you. But if it was a problem of any kind, one that required solving or was at least possible to solve, you again would most likely tell me about it at this point, which you did not. This leaves as the only possibility that you were overthinking something of no immediate relevance, or at least were dwelling on something that made you sad. Which I would like you not to do, nor to be."

Robin's lips curled into a small smile before she could help it, and a little of the gloom melted away as it was replaced by warmth and adoration. "I didn't know you understood me better than I do."

"I merely pay attention to the details. Would be quite impossible to keep up with you otherwise."

"Am I really that complicated?" She couldn't help chuckling at least a little, deeming it more a compliment than anything, and seeing as finally enough tension had left her body, she let herself sink further into the cushions.

"No. Complex perhaps, and challenging. But complicated would be the wrong word for it."

"I'd really rather be complex than complicated; one speaks of intelligence and character, the other of drama and effort. Then again, I surely cause you enough trouble to be called complicated indeed."

"Life is complicated either way. The true art in it is finding what makes the trouble worth it."

Robin didn't even have to think to know that she had found exactly this for herself a long time ago. Primarily, the very person in front of her. Really, she had no doubt that she would go through absolutely anything for him, with him, no matter what. Then –on a secondary level, or a different kind of level rather– she had found her passion for her research. Either way, she wondered what made life worth it for Snape. His job perhaps, his work as well… she could very well imagine that it was potions indeed. But she could also imagine other things, and she would fare better if she didn't imagine anything at all. Time for a subtle change of topic.

"You really have learned to be more positive, you know that?" She smirked at him with a quirked eyebrow, hoping that it would suffice to act over her own emotions beneath the fragile surface of her facade.

"Say that again and there will be consequences." He drawled in a feigned scowl, and Robin had to grin even more.

"Like what? I'm already sleeping on the couch with a healing stab wound. There's little you can do." She teased on even though she knew very well that there actually was quite a lot he could do, giving him a sassy shrug nonetheless, which actually threatened to make him break his facade. Robin saw the humor in his eyes, so obviously that it almost screamed at her, until it suddenly was replaced entirely by neutrality. Half a second later he rose to his feet in one swift move, killed the fire at the same time, and was already halfway across the small room before Robin even knew that was going on.

But once her mind snapped into place, she jumped into action instinctively and lunged forward in such an uncontrolled quick impulse, to catch his arm before he was out of reach, that she couldn't catch herself anymore and tumbled over, off the sofa and onto the hard floor. An action that would've hurt even without a healing wound. But she had gotten a hold of his sleeve at least, even if it was of fairly little use now that she was in a heap on the floor once more, drawing in a sharp breath against the rush of pain.

"Bloody hell…" She groaned after the initial stinging had dimmed down, and found that when she opened her eyes, she was met with a deep and concerned frown.

"What, pray tell, were you trying to do?!" He asked a bit too harshly, but Robin figured that it was because he probably was as surprised as she was herself.

"Stopping you from leaving." She defended her own action rather weakly, feeling way too insecure as she let him help her back onto the sofa where he sat down next to her. "I… I don't know what it is that I did, but I swear I didn't mean to upset you."

"You did nothing wrong, and you certainly did not upset me. You worried me with that stunt right there, but that was entirely my own fault as it seems." He said, and if his facial expressions had ever been obvious, it was now. Regret, anger and concern, all put on display for Robin to see without a doubt. "I failed to come up with a decent reply to your tease, so I thought I might simply prove that there is one thing I could do to get a reaction from you after all, but I had no intention of actually leaving nor did I think it would end like this. I'm sorry for crossing the line."

Fear dropped from Robin's heart as suddenly as it had been placed on it, and perhaps that was why she gave in to this most desperate urge without resistance. In an instant, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, kneeling on the sofa next to him as she buried her face in his neck and she hugged him as close to herself as she possibly could. Insufferable idiot… going too far while teasing was her speciality, not his! He never did… until now, it seems. It didn't matter, Robin still clung onto him with no intention to let go, and after a second of initial surprise, of freezing like he did so often, he placed his arms around her in return.

"Don't do that to me… Don't leave me like everyone else did." She breathed after a while, and as she spoke her lips barely brushed against the delicate spot of skin above the collar of his shirt. "You're… I… I can't have you leaving me as well."

"I would never." He replied so quietly, so seriously that a shiver ran down Robin's spine. "I am not going anywhere unless you want me to."

"You will still have to leave tomorrow, no matter what I want."

"If you want me to stay, I will."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Again, it took Robin a few seconds to process the overwhelming amount of emotions ebbing through her in return, to convince herself that he was only saying this because of what had happened yesterday. He only wanted to make sure she would be alright. And she would be, but only without the guilt of getting in the way of how things were supposed to be on her conscience.

"You have no idea how much that means to me… but it would be incredibly selfish of me to ask that of you when there's no good reason to stay, but many reasons to go. I will be just fine on my own, I have been for years. It's just one bloody week, and it's an important one." She finally said, in more or less certainty of her words. "You have to go."

"I know you will be fine." He returned calmly, yet in the same seriousness as ever. "You always are."

"Unless I get stabbed, or cursed, or tortured, or eaten alive by a bear, or-..."

"You are making it really difficult for me to go."

"Sorry." She breathed, but a smile tugged on her lips no less. It didn't matter why he didn't want to leave her… the fact alone was enough for now. More than enough, actually.

When he eventually started drawing tiny patterns on her back again, Robin finally realized that she was leaning against him with her entire weight by now, her head resting on his shoulder just like yesterday, and she knew that if she didn't put an end to that now, it would also end exactly like yesterday.

"I should probably let go of you now." She sighed under her breath, more to herself than to Snape, but as much as she knew she should indeed, her body would not obey her rational mind.

"And why is that?" He asked in return, and his hands stilled on her back while his hold on her however didn't loosen up in the slightest.

"I'm falling asleep." Robin breathed sadly. "And if you don't want a repetition of yesterday, I have to let go now."

For another moment neither of them moved at all, leaving Robin to wonder if she had even spoken up in the first place or merely dreamed her words, but when she finally forced herself to lift her head and then started pulling away, his arms around her tightened in an instant to keep her in place right where she was. An immediate shiver ran through her body when he leaned back into the sofa without a word and simply pulled her with him, their embrace never once faltering, while the movement left them in a far more comfortable position than before. Robin didn't mind in the least that it had her resting against him more than sitting like he still was at this point, and indeed, if there was such a thing as a highest place of comfort, she was sure to have reached it now.

Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps she had fallen asleep long before, and none of this was real. But when she focused on his chest rising and falling beneath her, on the scent that was so uniquely him, on his hands splayed out across her back… she knew that no dream could be positively overwhelming like this. Beyond anything she had imagined would ever be a part of her reality. Perhaps it would become one of those things they didn't talk about, that simply were without ever being addressed. Like their coffee habit used to be in the beginning… or the perpetual fact that they had been each other's not-date to the ball for years now. It likely would become one of those things, one of those wordless events neither dared to speak of… but Robin didn't mind at all. For once, she wouldn't question why he was allowing this to happen, wouldn't overthink what it did or didn't mean. She had given him the fair chance to escape the situation, and he had pulled her closer in return. It was easy as that, and allowing herself to simply enjoy it in return was even easier for once. Without the war within herself but with his arms wrapped around her securely, she was asleep within seconds.

… … …

Sunday came far too quickly and before long, Snape had to leave, which meant that Robin had all afternoon to explore the house she would have all to herself for a week now. Admittedly, she did understand now what he'd meant when he had said it was a telltale of neglect, but then again she absolutely didn't mind in the least, and actually found the aesthetic of it quite charming. The only thing she had to agree on was that the neighborhood was a literal nowhere. That much she discovered when she took a walk to get some fresh air on Sunday night, and she found that while the area was very much rundown and tainted by poverty, it otherwise didn't differ all too much from her parents' fancy Oxford suburb. Both were practically void of people, overcrowded with buildings and narrow streets and pathways, and most of all they both were so desperately void of nature that Robin was almost happy about the weeds growing through the cracks in the pavement. And still, she was beyond happy to have a roof over her head for the time being, and even happier that the space was filled with more books than she could read.

The week went by surprisingly fast, Robin spent the first few days reading and allowing the remainder of her injury to heal, and only on Friday she went to London to do the mandatory school shopping with the precisely calculated galleons that she had put aside nine weeks ago specifically for this reason. Honestly, she had been surprised when she had found the yearly letter from school on the doorstep on Monday morning, but when she'd thought about it, she wasn't at all surprised that Dumbledore would know where she was currently staying. He had been aware of her friendship with Snape in the first place, so why wouldn't he know that she was staying at Spinner's End at the moment? That man had eyes and ears everywhere; or perhaps Snape had simply told him about it, who knew. Then on Friday evening her very last overall money had gone into dinner, the only meal of the day, and she was actually quite happy with the fact that she would only have to spend Saturday and half of Sunday without anything to eat. That still was better than what she had calculated a few weeks ago.

When Sunday morning finally lit up the sky with a beautiful sunrise, Robin made sure to leave the house as spotless as possible, going through every single room four times, and still she arrived half an hour too early at the platform. Gods, she didn't even know what she was more desperate for at this point… a meal, the castle and highlands, or seeing Snape. Probably a good combination of all three. This year, for the first time, she found Cas and Jorien in advance to getting on the train, and when they left London fifteen minutes later, Robin found herself sitting in a compartment not only with her two roommates, but also with Simon and his two friends. Honestly, Robin had all the understanding in the world for Cas and Simon; after not seeing each other all summer, they surely deserved to sit together now at least. It was only the two other boys who irritated her quite a bit, for they kept shooting her odd glances for wearing sunglasses inside and even for only bringing one backpack as her entire luggage, and Robin found herself wondering if they were just particularly judgy or if her antics really were that odd and everyone else she usually surrounded herself with had simply gotten used to it by now. Either way, she tried to politely ignore them and their stares.

"So, how did traveling and finding plants and stuff go?" Cas finally asked after half an hour of being too busy with Simon to even look at anyone else. Robin thought that half an hour was a new record; Cas was getting better at remembering she had friends too!

"Oh, the usual…" Robin replied with a sigh and a small smirk, as she leaned back in her seat. "Walked over water, went sightseeing in Greece, almost got eaten alive by a bear, got stabbed, went-..."

"Wait, what?!"

"Yeah, there was this bear-like creature in a cave in Sweden, but we could make an escape at last after-..."

"That's probably an interesting story, but I meant the part about getting stabbed!" Jorien gave her a look, and Robin sighed again while everyone else in the compartment grew suspiciously quiet. Why on earth could she never keep her mouth shut?!

"Well, it's no big deal." She finally started addressing the topic when even the two Ravenclaw boys were staring at her with deep frowns. "I kind of broke in somewhere and then someone stabbed me in the stomach. Or… the ribs, rather. Between both."

"YOU broke in somewhere?!" One of Simon's friends blurted out before anyone else could give a more subtle reaction.

"You seem surprised." Was all Robin returned with a perfect neutral expression that had both Cas and Jorien snorting within seconds. Yeah, Robin had missed the girls after all.

"Well, uh…" The boy fought for a decent reply, but it was his friend who finally answered. "The Robin Mitchell we heard about just didn't seem like someone who wouldn't break into places."

"Perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear, then." She replied calmly, with a condescending edge to her tone she just couldn't help. They were a year below her, sure, but also a head taller each.

"Rumor has it you're a total overachiever in your year, or… in any, really."

"And just because I get good grades I automatically have to be boring and more by-the-rules than the headmaster himself? Is that what you mean?" Robin quirked an eyebrow at them, and the giggles coming from her roommates almost made her want to break her facade and smile as well.

"No, of course not, it's just… your reputation, and…" The poor guys looked miserable under Robin's scrutiny, scared almost to speak up, and she found that she wanted to know why.

"What other rumors are there about me, then?" She asked with a pointed expression, staring at the two Ravenclaws so intently that they looked desperately uncomfortable.

"Well, people say that… that you can read minds, and that you can curse people without even a single word. They say that you're so good that even the professors are afraid of you! Some even say that you're insane, or straight out evil… and many say that you have no emotions." The first boy replied reluctantly, and when Robin's gaze didn't falter, he added, "But we never believed any of that! Seriously, we just… thought that you really must be an overachiever if you made it to honour roll in two subjects a year earlier than everyone else! Honestly, the entire school seems to believe that you're someone not to be messed with… But we only ever believed the things we had physical proof of!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" They both nodded. "We would never blindly believe any reputation someone has among the students…"

"Good. Honestly, I couldn't care less about my reputation, and it's everyone's right to think about me whatever they please. But it's not my responsibility to meet their expectations." She stated with a smile now indeed, and she was met with three smirks in return and two almost relieved faces. "I do get good grades, but I'm neither a bore nor an insane genius."

"It's so funny how people always seem to think you're either just a scary psycho or a walking library." Jorien chuckled and leaned back in her seat as well while she turned to the two Ravenclaws. "Guys, Robin is one of the nicest people I've ever met, and definitely the most caring one. She literally saved my life, which almost got her killed in return! And on the other side, if there's anyone who literally never follows any rules other than her own, it's Robin. Do you guys even know that she's been excepted from most of the school rules for literal years?!"

"Really?" Simon asked now, frowning first at Jorien, then at Cas by his side, and finally at Robin. "A-about the rules, I mean! Not the… the nice part. I know you're very nice, Robin. To the people you like, at least."

"Thank you for that very accurate assessment, Simon." Robin couldn't help smirking and shook her head to herself in amusement. "I feel honoured."

"I told you she's always gone until who knows when at night! Roaming the castle and working in rooms none of us even knows about! And I told you how she's given us detention before, or how almost all of the professors actually respect her! How she knows more about potions than Professor Snape! I told you, Simon!" Cas defended herself then, and Robin tried not to snort yet again. It all was true, in a way… Well, almost all. She didn't know more than Snape, she merely knew different things than he did. Perhaps she would have to explain that to them at some point.

"I know you did, Cas, but I thought you were exaggerating!" Simon replied, and while Cas pouted, Robin and Jorien just chuckled.

"I never exaggerate!" Cas finally tried, and now literally everyone in the compartment couldn't hold their laughter anymore. Even Cas had to see that it was pretty funny after a moment, and when she started laughing too, any of the weirdness between the two groups finally faded for good. Who knew, if Cas and Simon really stayed together for now, perhaps Robin would have to get used to spending time with his friends as well. But for Cas, she certainly could do that.

______________________________

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iamakiller · 4 years

Text

owl always love you

Wordcount: 2000

Notes & Warnings: It has been far too long since I shared any of my fiction with you, hasn’t it? Well, how about five unhappy memories of Valentines past, and one that went perfectly to plan (... or did it?)

As for warnings, there is no sex at all, but there is an unfortunate accident, and a hint of murder. Hmm, I must be going soft in my old age ...

Five unhappy memories ...

Charlie is four.

Today feels like a very special day. There were flowers and a card on the kitchen table this morning, and no arguments over breakfast. It was almost like last night’s fight didn’t happen.

At preschool, the classroom has been decorated with red and pink hearts because it’s Valentine’s Day. The teacher reads the class a picture book about an owl who was looking for love, and then they all do a craft based on the story. The teacher has drawn the owl’s face and body on card for everyone, but they have to color it in and try to write a message on the owl’s tummy. Charlie writes “Owl always love you Mommy” in purple crayon – his mother’s favorite color.

The next part of the craft is very hard. They have to trace the outline of their hands onto card, color it in, and then cut it out. They stick the hands onto the owl with glue, and fold them over, and it looks kind of like wings. Charlie is very proud of himself, because he did it without any help, and unlike the boy who sits next to him, he didn’t try to eat any of the glue.

At going home time, he presents the card to his mother. She glances at it, and puts it in her handbag.

“Do you like it, Mommy?” Charlie asks, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t hear him.

The next morning, he finds it in the trash.

Oh.

Well, it wasn’t very good, he realizes. His coloring wasn’t neat enough, and one of the thumbs was missing because of a mishap he had when he was cutting it out. Maybe if he’d tried harder, she would have liked it.

Maybe if he tries harder, she’ll like him ...

Charlie is eight.

Valentine’s Day has been the main topic of conversation on the playground ever since the beginning of February. It’s not like anybody ever talks to Charlie, but there are some advantages to being invisible. He hears everything. He knows exactly who is getting a Valentine, and – most crucially – who isn’t.

On the night of February thirteenth, he stays up very late. It isn’t like anyone is checking what time he goes to bed anyway, so he pulls together the materials he’s “borrowed” from his teacher over the past few days, and works until the early hours of the morning.

The next day, everyone in the class has at least one little handmade card on their desk by the end of the day.

… except Charlie.

And that’s one of the disadvantages of being invisible.

Nobody knows he exists ...

Charlie is thirteen.

According to his research, it is puberty that has turned the majority of his classmates into mindless, giggling idiots. Thankfully, he seems to be immune to this plague, and the hours he spends staring at the long, golden hair of the girl who sits in front of him in class is perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Melissa is the prettiest girl in the class by far. Charlie thinks she looks just like an elven queen ... if Galadriel had a Midwestern accent and a mother who was the head of the PTA. She is also constantly accompanied by a group of four uglier girls, who all stare at Charlie as he makes his approach, the poem he wrote for her clutched in a hand that seems to be permanently sweaty these days.

She accepts the token of his affection with the carelessness of one who is accustomed to such things, and doesn’t even say thank you. At lunchtime, Charlie overhears her reading excerpts of it to her gaggle of friends. She tosses her lovely, blonde hair back, and laughs scornfully, before tearing it up into tiny pieces and leaving it on her lunch tray for the cafeteria staff to clear away.

And suddenly, Charlie realizes how ugly she is.

At the end of February, poor Melissa has a terrible accident. One of the teachers finds her unconscious at the bottom of the stairwell hours after school has finished for the day. She must have tripped and fallen down the stairs somehow.

She makes a full recovery, but she never remembers what happened that day ...

Charlie is seventeen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the dance?” asks cousin Pat from where he’s leaning in the doorway of Charlie’s bedroom. He’s dressed to impress, and Charlie can smell the terrible cologne he’s wearing from all the way on the other side of the room. “I can wait for you to get changed, I don’t mind.”

“I’m too busy,” says Charlie, staring up at the ceiling. Soon, it will be time for him to turn over and stare at the wall. “And I don’t like parties.”

“I don’t like parties either,” Pat reminds him, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blue button-down. “But you’ll never meet someone special if you don’t leave your room.”

Charlie responds by making a noise like someone being sick, and turns over to show Pat his back. “Bye. Have fun at the shitty Valentine’s dance.” He can feel his cousin’s gaze on the back of his head – can picture the annoying look of concern on his face – but he doesn’t move or say anything, and finally he hears the door close, and then Pat’s footsteps lumbering down the stairs.

Fuck Valentine’s Day, Charlie thinks. Fuck parties, and fuck ever finding someone special.

Charlie is 27.

This might be his first ever Valentine’s Day in a relationship, but he’s done his research into What Women Want, and blown a small fortune on trying to make the day special. A hundred red roses, delivered to Nicole on set. Reservations at the hottest restaurant in town. A pair of Chanel earrings, so expensive he actually choked on his own saliva when they told him the price, and had to be brought a glass of water to help him recover.

At the restaurant, Nicole opens the earrings, and stares at them for a long time. Her expression is completely unreadable, which is usually the case with her. They have been dating for two and a half months, and with every day that passes, Charlie feels like he knows less about her, which should surely be impossible.

“Don’t you like them?” Charlie asks, after the silence has gone on for so long that even the people at the next table have glanced over to see what’s going on.

Nicole closes the lid of the box with a snap, and looks up at him. “So you aren’t going to propose to me, then?”

Charlie blinks. “I – Wait, what?”

And then it all goes south very quickly from there.

The next day, there’s a blind item online about it:

Which C-list celebrity currently filming a procedural drama in New York was seen arguing with an unknown male at a local celeb hotspot last night? With a string of broken engagements already behind her, it looks like this feisty young starlet is single once more after dousing her hapless companion in Veuve Clicquot!

Unknown? Hapless? How rude!

He complains at length about the injustice of it all to the cocktail waitress he brought home last night, after he had sloped off to a bar to drown his sorrows and soothe the burn of his humiliation. Naturally, she has nothing to add to the conversation – having passed away six hours or so ago – but he appreciates her presence nevertheless. So much so that before he prepares her for disposal, he takes out her fake diamond earrings, and replaces them with the Chanel ones.

“I know I’m a day late,” he tells her. “But … happy Valentine’s Day.”

It’s the thought that counts, anyway ...

And then ...

Charlie is 37.

He is awakened at 5:30 a.m. on Valentine’s Day morning by his son barging in to the master bedroom. Without saying anything, Henry climbs onto the bed next to him, and falls asleep almost instantly. Charlie throws an arm over him, in the hopes of stopping him from tossing and turning like he often does.

Behind him, there’s a rustle of sheets “What’s happening?” Kitten asks, her voice thick with sleep.

“We have our usual Sunday morning visitor,” Charlie mumbles. “It’s still early, go back to sleep.”

A leg hooks over his, an arm curls around his middle, and Kitten lets out a happy sigh before falling asleep again.

Charlie closes his eyes, but it barely seems like a moment has passed before he’s being shaken awake by a very excited Henry. “Dad. DAD! Can we give Britt the card now?”

The digital display on the clock says eight, still an ungodly hour to be awake on a Sunday, but when Charlie rolls over, Kitten is already sitting up against the headboard, with her phone out. “A card?” she says, feigning surprise, as though she wasn’t banned from the kitchen for four hours the previous day, and hadn’t noticed the layer of glitter Henry was covered in when he emerged, which necessitated a dreaded bath.

“If we must,” grumbles Charlie, astonished at the speed with which Henry scrambles out of bed and sprints out of the room. He thunders downstairs, in search of the spot where they left their work of art to dry out after its completion.

Charlie rolls over onto his back, and stares up at Kitten. “Remember last year, when we stayed in bed all day?” he asks, mournfully. “That was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

“Mm, same.” Kitten leans down to kiss him, probably intending it to be just a peck on the lips. But Charlie wraps his hand around the back of her head to keep her there, deepening the kiss until a gagging sound from the doorway interrupts them and they break apart to find Henry watching them from the doorway, looking slightly green.

“You guys are gross!” he scolds them, in a tone not dissimilar to Sandra when she is upset about something.

Charlie sits up, and scowls. “That’s not in keeping with the spirit of the day.”

“The spirit of the day is chocolate,” says Henry, approaching Kitten’s side of the bed, with one hand behind his back. “Ta-daaaaa!” he shouts, and pulls out the card, waving it in her face. A hefty sprinkle of glitter falls on the sheets, and Charlie winces.

“This looks very impressive,” says Kitten, glancing sideways at Charlie to check his reaction to the glitter, and stifling a smile. “Can I take a closer look?”

On closer inspection, the card is very large, and is a rather well-drawn and extremely glittery looking owl which looks to be a combination of about three different species. Its wings – which look suspiciously like the outline of Charlie’s hands – are wrapped around itself.

“Open it, open it,” says Henry, climbing onto the bed, and bouncing slightly, causing more glitter to be dislodged.

When Kitten carefully opens the wings, she finds another, smaller pair of hand-shaped wings underneath. “Yours?” she asks Henry, who nods vigorously. When she opens those, there is a ridiculously tiny pair of hands underneath. One has been colored blue, and the other pink.

“Little B,” says Henry. “We looked up online how small their hands would be. I drew them, and Dad cut them out. He said we should do one hand in each color since we don’t know whether Little b is a boy or a girl yet. And wait, there’s a message. Read the message!”

“Owl always love you,” Kitten reads, her voice trembling slightly. “From Charlie, Henry and Little B. Oh Henry, thank you! The owl, the hands, the sweet message. It’s perfect!”

She pulls Henry into a hug, which he tolerates for a moment or two before asking, “Can I go watch cartoons now?” with all the tact typical of an eight year-old boy.

“It was all Henry’s idea, of course,” says Charlie, once the young man in question has bounced out of the room. He tries to brush some of the glitter off the bed, and succeeds only in getting it stuck all over his hand. “I was but an unwitting accomplice to this madness.”

“Is that so?” asks Kitten, with a smile. She sets the card on the nightstand so she can see it, and curls against Charlie, who wraps an arm around her shoulder, and rests his other hand on her stomach. “You know, it reminds me of this book I read when I was little. About an owl who was searching for love. It was a really cute story.”

“Never heard of it,” says Charlie, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But it sounds like a real hoot.”

“Oh god, not the owl puns.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” says Charlie, but somehow he finds himself lapsing into silence instead of releasing the string of dreadful jokes that are on the tip of his tongue. “Do you -” he begins, and then sighs, and runs his hand through his hair, inadvertently spreading multi-colored glitter quite liberally through it. He chews on the inside of his cheek before continuing. “Do you really like it?”

Is it good enough?

Am I trying hard enough?

Do you like me?

A gentle hand against his cheek brings him back to the present. “I don’t just like it, I love it,” Kitten reassures him. “And I love you very much, too. I know it’s a little rough at the moment with me working from home, but I’m still feeling very lucky. Who would have thought six months ago that we would be here? We’ve come so far, Charlie. I’m so proud of us. I’m so proud of you. Especially now you’re back in therapy again.”

Charlie holds her a little more tightly, and she tucks her head under his chin and settles her hand on his chest, over his heart, which is beating too quickly for his liking. “I’m trying, my love,” he says softly, taking slow, deep breaths to try to control the speed of his heart. “I never want to let you down again ...”

He closes his eyes, breathes in Kitten’s familiar, comforting scent, and tells himself that he’s just holding her, not clinging to her. I’m okay, he tells himself, over and over again. We’re okay.

I just have to try harder, and it will all be okay ...

#valentine's day #tw: bad parenting #tw: assault #tw: implied murder #B+C #direnightshade #tw: pregnancy #tw: angst #glitter should have a trigger warning

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neapolitanadonna · 4 years

Text

Axis + Allies at W Academy (Human AU)

North Italy

Feliciano is the kid who shows up five minutes late everyday with an Frappuccino in his hand. He’s just very, very bad at time management, but he always looks well put together when he does show up. At this point, teachers have stopped assigning him detention because he’s just too good of a student to give detention to, even with his 55 tardies. He’s also the kid who will bring you food if he notices that you’re upset- he’s a firm believer that sugary drinks and carbs are good for the soul. His favorite classes are obviously the art classes- all of his electives are spent taking pottery, studio art, portfolio, painting, charcoal, and anything else the school offers. He may or may not be the art teachers favorite.

Germany

Ludwig is the straight-a student who sits in the back of your AP World History class and carries the entire class discussion when everyone else is too afraid to raise their hands to ask a question. He’s also the person who will take the heavy load of the work in the group project, and leave the easier tasks to everyone else. Despite being straight edge, if you ask him for the homework answers, he’ll send them without hesitation. He might tell you, “Ask me if you need help. Copying won’t help you learn anything,” but he always comes in on a clutch. Everyone wonders why he’s best friends with Feliciano, especially when the word “late” isn’t in Ludwig’s vocabulary. He does well in all his classes, but history and government classes are where he really shines.

Japan

Kiku is the quiet kid who’s also in your AP class who somehow has the highest grade in the class even though you’ve never heard him talk before. He gains a reputation for being cool and mysterious for a while, and a lot of people go to ask Feliciano about him, because they know Ludwig won’t talk about anybody else’s business. Turns out he isn’t really all that mysterious, he’s just shy, but also the biggest sweetheart you’ll ever meet. He does really well in literature classes, and hangs around the literature teachers more than students his actual age. Despite the fact that he keeps to himself, he’s nice to everyone he meets, and if you approach him in class first he won’t stop talking.

Prussia

Everyone knows Gilbert, for the better or worse. He’s the kid who just doesn’t shut up in your film study elective course. He’s always yelling, always posting to his snapchat story, always taking pictures, running around the lunchroom, and trying to make friends with the security guards. Everyone either loves Gilbert, or loves to hate him. At the end of the day, he’s really funny, some people can’t come to admit it, though. They wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He definitely won the class clown superlative, and lives up to it completely. If you’re lucky, you might get put on his snapchat private story, and its hard not to laugh at the things he does and says. Teachers will yell at him to be quiet in their classes, but deep down they’re holding back an unprofessional laugh. He doesn’t really have any particular class he excels in, he’s a jack of all trades, master of none.

South Italy

Lovino was the kid who was really, really emo in middle school but glew up sophomore year and now everyone thinks his post-edgy edginess is super attractive. He has a decent amount of friends, but he isn’t super popular. He doesn’t talk back to teachers, but he’ll tell of Gilbert sometimes, and because of his mouth he gets labelled as being funny, even if he wasn’t trying to be. He’s always really well put together- he’s a dress pants every day kind of guy. Like his brother, he’ll probably show up late with a drink in his hand, but instead of one of those “foofoo girly drinks”, he’s got straight up black coffee. He does well in history and government classes like Ludwig, which created a little bit of tension between the two. But unlike Ludwig, he does well because he’s just so damn opinionated. He was asked to be on the debate team, but he turned it down. Extra-curriculars aren’t his thing.

America

Alfred is that guy. Everyone knows who Alfred is, but not in the same way everyone knows Gilbert. Alfred is the captain of the varsity football team, has a new girlfriend every other two months, party at my place, red solo cup kind of guy. He’s mad he didn’t get the class clown superlative, but in reality he just isn’t as funny. He’s the kid whose really nice, as long as you play a varsity sport. He doesn’t really communicate much outside of his big clique, but he’s super well known. He’s the guy who will add you on snapchat just to make a new streak, but never actually talk to you. He wins prom king in his junior and senior year. He’s just the gym class hero, likes to show off how much he can dead lift and bench press. He gets along with male history teachers too, just because they’re usually football fans. (Alfred is really, really bad in history, though.)

England

Arthur is the class president who everyone loves to hate. He’s snotty, uptight, and won’t send you homework answers even if your life depended on it. He has an “I’m better and more successful than everyone in this place” type of energy, but deep down, he’s a huge geek. He’s friends with Lukas and Vladimir, so at first everyone just assumes that he’s super chill and laid back, then he opens his mouth and all of that goes away. Girls love to pick on him, Michelle (Seychelles) started a running joke where her and her friends will all call him Draco Malfoy when he’s around. In reality, he just doesn’t know how to socialize very well. He’s a nice guy deep down, just kinda broken and defensive, and very few can see that. He does well in every class, just beating out Ludwig as Valedictorian.

France

Francis is the leader of his little clique that’s full of guys who worship Lady Gaga, and girls who cuff their jeans and wear butterfly clips in their hair (if you know what I mean.) He’s very, very popular. He knows how to make people feel loved and important, and hypes everyone up in their Instagram comments. People will call him fake because he’s always just way too nice, but that’s just him. He’s the type of guy who will hit on anyone, even teachers, and he gets labelled as teachers pet for it (and he doesn’t deny it.) When him, Gilbert, and Antonio are in a class together, just get ready to know that it’ll be comedy central. He’s declared himself the sworn defender of underclassmen girls who get preyed on by upperclassmen boys. He does well in language classes, nobody knows it but he’s a little bit of a polyglot. He can speak English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, and Creole. Take that!

Russia

Ivan is the guy all the girls have a low key crush on, but everyone’s too afraid to talk to him because they know he comes off as intimidating, so Ivan is left thinking that nobody likes him. That is, until somebody sends him a screenshot of somebody’s snapchat story where they call him “daddy,” and his whole attitude takes a 180. It isn’t his fault he looks scary, he’s taller and bigger than everyone, and gets mistaken as a teacher sometimes. He gets the nickname “Rasputin” from Alfred because he comes off as terrifying, but a lot of girls just love him. In reality he’s just kind of shy, not very scary at all. Sometimes girls will ask to put hair ties and clips in his hair, just because, and he always flushes up when they do. He plays hockey for the school, and completely annihilates everyone on ice. He’s just cool like that.

China

Yao is the kid in your statistics class who zones out all the time, only coming back to reality to make a snarky comment about the teacher under his breath for you to hear. He keeps to himself and his small group of friends, which is mainly just other eastern Asian kids he’s grown up with since middle school. He’s really active in civil rights, he cares a lot about his identity as a minority in the school, and would defend it viciously if need be. He does a lot of posting, talking, and writing about human rights, which is shocking since most people just assume he’s old fashioned based off the fact that he has so many old man mannerisms (ie. complaining about back pain and how he needs an acupuncture appointment asap.) Everyone calls him the grandpa friend, which is like a mom friend except he’ll give you hard candies he got at the Chinese Market instead of being your therapist when you’re upset. He does really well in government and business classes.

Spain

Antonio is everyone’s best friend. Unlike Francis and Gilbert, Antonio’s presence is very, very calming, and he’s often put in the position of apologizing for his friends behaviors. He’s the one who has to talk to the police if they get caught goofing around in a place they shouldn’t be, or if Gilbert was “accidentally” driving 75 mph in a 45. Teachers always love Antonio, not because he gets super high grades, he’s just so friendly. He’s the kid who invited kids sitting by themselves at lunch to sit with him, and not for his personal benefit. Even if you aren’t close with him, Antonio would always be there for you if you’re upset in school. It’s hard not to be cheered up by him. He’ll go out of his way to make anyone laugh or smile, even if he acts a little inappropriate in the process. He does really well in science classes, especially biology and environmental.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hetalia imagines #hetalia scenarios #APH Italy #APH Germany #APH Japan #APH Prussia #aph romano #APH America #APH England #APH France #APH Russia #APH China #APH Spain

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fae-redux · 4 years

Text

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t.

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter.

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean.

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him.

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone.

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes.

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his.

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life.

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate.

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason.

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning.

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls.

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back.

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

#dukeceit #remus sanders #janus sanders #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #intruceit #awen writes #its the floof guys #im also getting into human au stuff and like punk sides #you can blame tulip for that one #punk janus is a classic tho #imo anyways #remus uses pet names because all the others cringe something awful whenever he uses them and janus is the only one who gets normal ones #did i project my wish to be called honeybee into this fic? yes #would i do it again?#also yes #hey alex #go listen to falling for u by mxmtoon thats what the titles from

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 74: The Goblet of Fire

Lily groaned as she sat up once more, rubbing at her temple. This falling and crashing around every time still never felt any better. Her breath caught in surprise though, and she almost considered this one worth it for the place they'd landed this time. Though she'd never been to these surroundings either, banners hung along the walls along the multiple display cases proclaiming this as the Museum of Magical History.

She'd heard about this place a bit, Mary Macdonald had been here on holiday with her family nearly every summer, as her mother was a curator here. Of course there wasn't a soul in sight now, but the place certainly lived up to its grandeur her roommate had promised. The tiled floors seemed lit beneath with a golden light, every time she placed her foot down again it glowed even brighter. There were wooden columns polished so highly each item on display seemed to be doubled, and when her eyes flickered up she saw the ceiling was so high it was nearly cast in shadows. There was an odd flickering light drawing her eyes almost immediately to the plaque right in front of her, where a roughly hewn wooden cup sat. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames, standing on top of an ancient wooden casket.

She didn't know the spell to activate the plaque into displaying the whole backstory as Mary had promised all the attractions here could, not to mention she was living through a vivid enough retelling of one story, so she merely leaned forward and read:

Created in the 13th century by Iolanthe Peverell, this Goblet of Fire has harnessed the magical energy of all names submitted to it to bring upon the next champion for the Triwizard Tournament in helping to create the next Champion of the Wizarding World.*

Lily arched a curious brow at being able to see this in person, though she was quickly more interested in wondering why she was the only one in here.

Standing up wearily as if she still half expected someone to demand what she was doing here, or for Black to jump out behind the item and purposefully scare her, she gazed around at the other exhibits as well as looking for a directory of where the others might be.

This seemed to be a whole section dedicated to the Peverell family, the next item she spotted as an original copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard which apparently had been written by the brothers according to one theorist who had it on display. She passed some odd diagrams about how to make an invulnerable invisibility cloak, and even a tapestry containing a family tree.

When she finally got to the end of the hall and found nothing, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair at the three corridors, feeling like she was in some sort of maze, though at least all the directions were of some little indication.

To the left promised yet more history of even farther back, a shiny new plaque beneath promising a new exhibit of possible Hogwarts Founders items being discovered. To the right progressed more linear it seemed, a wide banner halfway down in bright flashing colors promising the newest Quidditch World Cup paraphernalia on sale if you'd missed out before.

Straight ahead was yet another side corridor it seemed, even more dimly lit than the one she'd just left, and a bit of rope keeping it apart. It was clearly closed for now, but it seemed it was going to be an offshoot of more pureblood families, possibly they were building one for each of the twenty-eight.

Deciding her best bet of finding those trouble makers was in the bound off area, magic or their own innate ability would lead them there, so chose the left path instead.

James Potter's voice began echoing all around her, and she still automatically cringed at the idea of him being so near her even if it was only his voice. She had no idea if she'd picked the right direction, his voice stayed the same volume level as she traveled along. She wished it would grow faint after a few moments, if just for the relief of his nearly shouting about Harry going to school with an international Quidditch player. What was he hoping, that their son would drop out of school and join-

She stopped dead in her tracks as she realized what she was thinking, then continued walking on even faster, actually forcing herself to pay attention to her surroundings again as if she could outrun her own thoughts. At least no one was around to see the first time she'd acknowledged Harry as 'theirs.'

Turns out she'd only been leading herself right to the source of the problem, as she heard a wild hoot of delight that was now painfully familiar, and stopped just shy of entering a Quidditch exhibit archiving the whole of the sport, which was where the majority of the boys had somehow landed.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were the worst sources of the noise, they'd likely caused an alarm to go off for trying to pry loose the first caught Snitch according to its marker, and had trapped the lot without a care as they chased it madly about the room on a pair of ancient, likely the first made brooms. It was a curious quandary, how far they could go with the little ball before the clanking symbols chasing them caught up to them.

Potter stood underneath all of this, flushed in the face from excitement most likely as the book seemed to be stalling over the feast. Regulus Black stood nearest to her with an eager look on his face as if he wished to join, he was doing a terrible job of hiding this, trying to smother the expression with haughty indifference.

Frank was hovering at the far end, looking in fear of his life passing through the madhouse so she couldn't even get to him. She didn't spot Alice or Peter Pettigrew at all and sighed for the both of them also in here somewhere alone. She envied that now.

Slowly creeping back away before anyone noticed her, she wouldn't put it past Black to sick that device on her somehow, and went off in the opposite direction as fast as she could. She'd already made it back to her original landing spot when still the book seemed to be stalling more than anything, going in excruciating detail over several students from the other schools, foreign foods, and even more attendees at Hogwarts from the Ministry for the proceedings it seemed.

Trying not to flinch as she'd swear the blue fire had grown even brighter as she passed again, she quickly kept going past that room and tried to maneuver her way around while it felt like an idiot was chasing her around screaming this at her. It was a shame really, she would have liked to explore this place under other circumstances, she'd bet Sev had read all sorts of things as knowledgeable as he always was about the magical world. Five years in and she still found herself turning to him for those answers...though lately she was more likely to get a straight answer from a textbook.

He'd been so, evasive lately. With every passing week he drew farther and farther away from her. She wished there was some clear cut answer, and maybe there was if he'd just stop hanging around those disturbing elders in Slytherin-

As if her wandering feet had directed her, she'd apparently diverted at some point following a path without even realizing it and smiled as she found herself in The Hall of Potions. She immediately decided she'd like to try and convince Slughorn to take a trip here, perhaps they wouldn't have time when they got back before their OWL's, but maybe something extra credit for NEWT students?

She passed up Gregory the Smarmy (fl. 1189); a medieval British wizard and Potioneer, who invented Gregory's Unctuous Unction, a potion that makes the drinker believe whoever gave the potion is his or her best friend. She did stop in surprise upon finding almost a shrine built to Arsenius Jigger, she wouldn't be surprised if Sev had built that himself though, as many advances as he'd made in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, his two favorite subjects. Still she kept browsing as Dumbledore finally called attention and began going over in detail this Tournament, that the Cup would be picking the champions, and that there was going to be an age limit, which admittedly was a relief to her. She liked to think she'd learned a bit about Harry by this time and he wouldn't have tried his hand at this, unlike James Potter, but now he didn't even have the chance.

Finally she came across the one she'd been so eager to find, Vindictus Viridian, her idol in Potioneers. She hadn't even known about him until she stumbled across his portrait one day off the Grand Staircase muttering about the bustle of the students just last month, and after returning several times and taking quite a bit an effort to charm him he'd finally opened his door to reveal to her the Room of Rewards. She'd invested many hours in the library since then finding every one of his achievements, even discovering he'd once been a Headmaster at her school himself.

Lily could sense the chapter was at least halfway over as the students were dismissed, there was a slight sidestep of Harry's own when the Durmstrang Headmaster even spotted Harry and took notice before Moody stepped in, but she realized she'd been fawning over this stuff and still hadn't found Alice with little time to spare. Hoping she hadn't too miserable a time apart from everyone, she didn't bother dragging her gaze away from some of his documented notes over a potion to turn literally anything green.

"You're positive?" Alice asked uneasily, with a faint blush.

"Absolutely," Peter assured, swinging his feet upon his perch with an uninterested look. "Every single time we've landed, it's the first thing Frank's done given the chance. That I've seen anyways."

Alice believed him, but she wasn't sure she liked talking to Peter even if he was reassuring a silly teenage crush. She hadn't really given much of a thought to him before his star roll, but apparently he'd been watching all of them. Now she hoped it was just his, ah, bad first real impression and she was trying to work past that feeling. Regardless, he was good at one thing, changing the subject.

She cast her mind about for some way to pull the conversation back to what she intended when she came in here. He'd been sitting astride a gargantuan stuffed creature, that was hairless with immense fanged teeth, as if some terrifying mixture of a saber toothed tiger and a naked mole-rat. Magic had it pacing about the room in an easy stride that could easily break into a running gate at any moment, though the lifeless eyes promised nothing so violent would happen. Peter was riding sidesaddle with a faraway look on his face, and didn't even flinch as a great winged boar shot past his head, ruffling his hair.

There were all sorts of other extinct creatures about, Alice was particularly captivated by the hippocampus swimming about near the ceiling that was on a nearly head-on collision with a great long-necked beast swimming merely through nothing. Across the room, a yeti was plucking berries from a tree that instantly grew them back and placing them in a basket that never filled, and an erlking seemed to be fishing for some other form of sea serpent quite poorly.

"You can go if you'd like, find him or Evans," Peter offered, she clearly hadn't been hiding her unease as well as she'd hoped. "You don't have to stay and talk to me just because you found me."

"But I want to," she insisted truthfully. "I was hoping to ah, be a bridge for you and your friends, help you lot along to some sort of, understanding."

"Why?" The truly baffled expression made his pointed features in his round face even more childlike.

"Because, I want to help," Alice said. "Isn't that reason enough?"

"You don't know anything about us," he said shrewdly, "you wouldn't know or care for any of this if you hadn't been dragged along."

"But I was," she readied herself, and then jumped up beside him upon the next creatures passing. She wobbled uneasily, before Peter reached out on instinct and grabbed her shoulder to steady her. "Thanks," she smiled, "and I think we had to have been brought along for some reason other than not getting to hear of Neville as much as I'd like. I don't even know if he's really my son."

"I saw the picture you and Frank have of him," Peter shrugged, "he's obviously yours."

Alice blushed quite vividly this time, but refused to be deterred again. "Well, until we meet up with them again, why don't you tell me what it is you want to say to them, maybe I can-"

"If I wanted to talk to them I would be," he spoke calmly, but there was finally a hard edge in his voice that had Alice regretting their proximity for the first time. "James asked me to give them some space, so I am, it's as simple as that."

"Doesn't seem fair," Alice still pointed out, "you haven't done anything, er to them, at this time," she couldn't help but finish awkwardly but with complete conviction.

Peter didn't answer, he clasped his hands in front of him and began kicking the poor creature in its ribs, she imagined if the beast were real it wouldn't be taking too kindly to that. Finally when he did answer, it was to the ceiling, "who knows what we'll really do in the moment, no matter what we're told of it."

"You still think you'll do it again?" Alice asked in surprise.

He squirmed uncomfortably on the ride now, then looked at her with a sharp glare. "Again, what's it to you?"

She didn't have anything to say to that, she really did just want to help. She always wanted to help all the new students be they in her house or not, but when she'd seen the Marauders fighting back in school she hadn't given a passing thought to their internal squabble and had not approached Sirius Black to talk to him about it. She hoped to help now simply because she had heard the story...but maybe she was just trying to be a part of something she didn't belong in.

Her silence seemed to have dragged more out of him than her questions though, he turned on the offense. "I don't know, okay? I've never had to think of it before! James and Sirius are the smartest, strongest blokes in that school, I couldn't even imagine what life would be like after we graduated before all this, but it bloody hell wasn't this future! If, You-Know-Who threatened me, my mother- would he, could James -?"

His voice cracked, he didn't look at her or anything anymore. The book had been droning on in the background this whole time, James Potter's voice echoing around them emphasizing the topic of this like nothing else could. Harry's life had continued on after this betrayal, he hadn't seemed to be dwelling on it at every opportunity as Halloween arrived, they spent time with Hagrid, and then the Goblet was spitting up names for each school. She wished she could think of something else to say, but began to admit to herself perhaps she was nosing in where she didn't belong. She hadn't a chance to say anything else regardless, as Harry's name came out of where it really shouldn't, straight from that cup as well, and they all vanished once more.

*The idea for the setting of this chapter was when I originally noticed The Tale of the Hopping Pot has an oddly similar story to this random person on the Potter Family tree in Pottermore. Go see Seamus Gorman's video for more details who elaborated on this much more.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Remus Lupin #Wolfstar #Jilly #Sirius Black #GoF #Marauders #reading the books #James Potter #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #Peter Pettigrew #Regulus Black

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teruthecreator · 4 years

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THS IS A ROBBERY 🔫YOUR ROLESWAP LORE!!! HAND IT OVER 🤲if u want 2 :)

just took my melatonin bc i have to wake up at 4:30 AM to drive 16 hours to my mother’s so i’m sorry if this becomes derailed but uh. here’s the roleswap lore! or, at least, everything i’ve decided (along with matthew and corinne bc the three of us tagteamed on it)

gonna chuck it all under a readmore bc this is going to get long

so first off, just gonna run out in front and say i have no idea how this fits into graduation plot. i haven’t gotten that in plot consideration, given their character differences in comparison to their canonical selves. so, for the most part, it’s a lot of background establishment and character traits. but i do have a few plot bits that i’ve figured out bc i thought it was cool. why such a long preamble? i don’t know. help me

fitzroy maplecourt:

first off, he’s not called sir!!! because he doesn’t go to knight school!

my idea for his backstory is that the way he decides to grapple with his identity crisis/imposter syndrome (which he definitely Still has) is that instead of becoming a grander, larger than life version of himself. he just. goes the opposite.

not necessarily becoming a degenerate (bc he just smokes pot and that’s not bad he’s just vibing)??? but more just like. leaning into the laid-back nature of life that one might pick up from a lifetime in rural country.

he goes to a liberal arts school a ways away and just decides to bum around and take life not seriously. he develops a pretty large group of acquaintances being a hippie stoner; he doesn’t really pursue a degree either. i think if he picked up any major it was probably like. an art major or an english but he basically fails most of his classes bc he doesn’t care!

unlike his canonical counterpart, fitzroy doesn’t mind being called nicknames!! ones i think he has the most are fitz or roy, but basically you could call him anything and he’ll respond. that is because, instead of clinging to the concept of his identity bc it’s the only thing he feels he has, his identity is nebulous!! he doesn’t understand it and it scares him too much to be concrete, so he just lets people decide shit about him for him.

his personal philosophy is more about floating through life and letting people assume shit about him than having a solid personality and backstory that people understand and recognize. it is a more dissociative way of having an identity crisis! how fun! he also barely talks about his past, and what he does talk about are cherrypicked points of his past that fit his narrative of being a casual down-to-earth hippie

the moment that this all changes is when order decides to pop in and grant him powers!!!! wahoo!!!! here’s how that happens:

he’s baked out of his fucking gourd in his dorm room, in the spring semester of his junior year. he’s alone (which is rare) and he’s maybe a little sad, but he decides to just ignore it. he looks at his table and laughs. “hehe, what if this table just. blew up?” he says to himself. it isn’t that funny, but he laughs. then he lays his hand on the table.

the table blows up.

after that, he has magic!!!

i’m going to go into detail a little bit later about how fitzroy’s magic manifests in the roleswap universe, but i wanna get through the backstory first. basically, he gets really freaked out after his magic comes to him because it is So New and Wow What and What The Fuck.

he realizes that this new addition to his character Completely changes how people who know him would perceive him (as a bum stoner chill guy), and he can no longer have control of his narrative with this magic business. so he drops out!

well, he actually just transfers. to a school far, far away where people will never know who he was and he can rebuild his narrative with this magic incorporated into it. he chooses wiggenstaff’s because he figures the school would have more of a knowledge of magic than his libarts school, which would mean he could understand why the fuck weed gave him magic (sidenote: it wasn’t weed, obvs, but he thinks this so for a while he doesn’t smoke!)

he is now the chill hippie of wiggenstaff’s!!! most people like him because his personality is fairly easy to digest; some people think he shouldn’t be there, but he is! he starts out as a sidekick and he would’ve honestly been fine with that forever, but then he’s suddenly thrust into the hero track!!! wow!!!! i will also explain this with the magic.

but yeah!! that’s fitzroy, for the most part. now we’ll move onto the other boy

argonaut keene:

he actually prefers if people call him argonaut, but he’s less likely to correct people than canon fitzroy Or canon argo. he’s a tad bit shyer in this universe!

argo’s backstory pretty much follows the same idea of his canonical background, but with some key differences that shape him into the character he is in the present!

basically he still grows up on shebrie’s ship, surrounded by crewmates and the salty sea air. but his fascination with the sea doesn’t manifest into this swashbuckling lifestyle that he has in canon.

what fascinates him more is the ship itself. how it functions, how water wears down wood, how directional currents can affect navigation. basically, he becomes invested in the sciences part of sealife more than the pirateering. he has special interests in marine biology, but his heart remains in nautical engineering. figuring out ways to make the ship run better, faster, and more efficiently consumes his childhood thoughts!

shebrie encourages her son’s craving for knowledge with tomes and books from all over the world about anything related to engineering and nautical things. he’s homeschooled, basically, but he becomes rather intelligent within a few short years!

and then, well....shebrie dies. yeah we aren’t escaping that finality, sorry folks. that part of canon Still Applies.

after shebrie’s death (coughMURDERcough), argo is. traumatized! and he makes the decision to almost entirely sever himself from his life on the sea. it’s all too painful to look back upon--the times he spent studying with his mother in the captain’s quarters, rattling off dolphin facts as they sailed onward, dreaming of turning gears as the ship gently rocked him to sleep--and so he just decides to throw the whole thing out!

he can’t ignore his lifetime of education, though, so he continues to pursue it. with the remainder of money his mother left behind, he enrolls himself in a boarding school of science and technology, with plans to continue study in Only engineering. no more nautical Anything on his roster.

eventually, when he is old enough and graduates high school, he roams around...trying to figure out what to do. he doesn’t have enough money for college, so he can’t continue his scholarly efforts yet. he works around, job-to-job, city-to-city, and just notices how...delayed everything feels. like society is suffering under this slow pace towards innovation.

and that’s when he decides his next course of action. if he were to discover the root of some problem and engineer a solution, he would be famous! he would gain notoriety and praise and--and all the things his mother had as a captain. but he would have it on his own, separate from his mother, and separate from his past.

he figures out his next course of action: attend a school that will give his prestigious enough marks to be accepted onto a research team, find a problem, solve it, help the world, maybe earn a little bit of that credit and respect that would make him feel like he was doing his mother proud.

the thing i want to emphasize here is that argo’s take on helping the world comes from that morality that canon fitzroy has. canon fitzroy wanted to be a knight because he wanted to fairly and justly instill ideas of “good” and “bad” onto the world. roleswap argo has a similar moral sense, but instead of establishing rules he wants to fix the “bad” and make it “good” in a technological/scientific sense.

the only school argo can think of that can get him that kind of notoriety is wiggenstaff’s. getting onto the HOG board would mean he’d have access to countless resources and be respected by a large audience, which would give him the opportunity to make change happen. even if he’s only a sidekick On Paper, what matters is that the diploma would give him the ability to Apply to the HOG. so he drafts a carefully worded letter for a scholarship and achieves a full-ride!!! epic

like fitzroy’s magic, i’m going to break down argo’s relation to the unbroken chain after i get through backstory stuff. but trust me, I’ve Thought Of It

argo sort of blends into the background at wiggenstaff’s. or, he would, if his roommates/friends weren’t so Fucking Out There. fitzroy is enough to make him always be visible, but even the firbolg’s massive frame means eyes are always on him. which makes him nervous!! he doesn’t like the attention (as opposed to his canonical self, who revels in it for the self-esteem fuel) his insecurities manifest more in what he’s Doing rather than what he Is, mostly because his identity is barricaded by a wall of trauma repression

he’s still plenty funny and witty, just quieter. also he’s a lot Meaner than canon argo, at least to me. because if you irritate him he Will just completely shut you down with words. motherfucker doesn’t bark but he will most DEFINITELY bite

that’s their backstories, for the most part! in terms of how they interact together:

as established, they meet prior to wiggenstaff’s on a tinder date (during the grace period of argo working odd jobs and fitzroy about to be granted immense fucking power) and end up casually dating during the course of their wiggenstaff education. argo is a nervous goober and fitzroy just likes making him blush. it’s very cute.

fitzroy is still less inclined for the romantic than argo, who remains a steadfast absolute romantic internally. fitzroy still holds a lot of the self-doubt and distrust that canon fitzroy has, only it manifests in him not taking anything seriously! which means when he catches Feelings feelings he basically freaks out

argo still falls in love really quickly, only now he’s more conflicted about it because being in love means trusting and trust means communication and communication means Oops Years Of Trauma Are Being Unloaded Uh Oh!

now i’m going to touch on the big points that i find really interesting: fitzroy’s magic and argo’s relation to the unbroken chain

fitzroy’s magic:

chaos is not the being that grants him magic. it’s order!

my take on what this means for what deity is on what plane of reality is that chaos is more Needed so they are the one that is physically On Nua, while Order remains in dreamscapes because they are already a constant amongst the tangible world. yes i know this directly contradicts the reasoning for why theyre Supposed to be where in canon, leave me alone i’m having fun.

my reasoning for this switch is because chaos stands to be a contradiction to everything canon fitzroy has going on. he has a very strict, nailed-down understanding of himself and the world. everything he thinks is in black and white, bold statements, no questions, he follows rules and obeys the law. untiiiiil chaos gives him magic and shocks him out of that complacency. they lean into his inner impulses and that rage he’s kept locked deep inside. they allow for magic to Explode out of him, rather in calculated bursts or with intent.

which is why order is more fitting for roleswap fitzroy!! because fitzroy, in this world, has less of a concrete grasp of himself and the world. he purposely lets himself be nebulous and goes with the flow. thinking of the future in real terms is not something fitzroy Does, he has no plans and that’s Fine. order seeks to give fitzroy a backbone, to put it simply.

his magic doesn’t go impulsively out of him. it is calculated--it comes with thoughts and intentions. the reason it surprises fitzroy when the table blows up is because he didn’t think his thoughts or wants would amount into that, but that’s what order is trying to show him. that his intentions matter. that he matters and he has to Think and Focus and Be Here.

i’m still not sure if his power would manifest as lightning??? because the imagery for the lightning works perfectly for canon fitzroy because of the random power of lightning strikes. but for roleswap fitzroy it’s more like...thunder. like Purpose. thunder happens because of a reaction--it comes with intent. if differing air temperatures collide, it creates thunder. that combination is purpose + intent equating in magic.

i think that part needs word bc like. how would one quantify thunder?? i think fire might also work really well because the idea of a controlled fire. like things have to Happen in order for fire to start, it can’t just appear like lightning can.

order’s manipulation relies more heavily on the concept of boosting him up as a savior/hero, rather than boosting his ego and desire for power. fitzroy Has no desires in roleswap world--he’s just there. but when he gets put on the hero track, now he’s suddenly been given purpose. and order uses that to be like “wow, look at all these people who rely on you! look how important you are! don’t you want to use this magic for good?? to do good?? start a war with a demon come on pussy :-)”

OH YEAH also he becomes a hero in this universe (like in terms of tracks) because of the fact that it directly contradicts how he views himself. for canon fitzroy, it was showing him how much more he is capable of without the restrictions of morals (i.e, king fitzroy). but roleswap fitzroy doesn’t Have an image he wants to bolster! he doesn’t think he needs it and, frankly, he doesn’t care for it. the hero tracks carries with it all these stereotypes and expectations that now directly contradict his personality--thus showing him he is capable of more.

okay now for argo’s business jesus christ this post is so long and im NOT EVEN DONE WITH ALL THE POINTS I WANTED TO MENTION

argo’s relation to the unbroken chain:

so since roleswap argo has less of an association with his past (and, by extension, the memory of his mother), he is less inclined to join the mysterious cult that his mother was a part of.

moreover, he doesn’t necessarily believe the shit he’s told??? he’s way more skeptical of jackal than canon argo is--immediately questioning why and how jackal knew his mother, and constantly trying to poke holes through his narrative.

generally speaking, if you try to talk to roleswap argo about his mother or his past, he Shuts Down. like completely. and that usually results in him snapping at you or just clamming up completely. mostly he just gets really snippy and angry because Hey Shut Up Dickhead I Don’t Want To Talk About It

a part of me still isn’t sure whether or not argo would take the unbroken chain up on their offer. but i also know that, plot wise and character arc wise, it is a necessary part of argo’s story. so i think, at most, he agrees but is extremely hesitant and might even let fitzroy on immediately once he’s given the task of digging into fitzroy’s life

also, they’re boyfriends in this universe, so how could he Really keep it a secret for that long. come on jackal, you idiot, you know they’re kissing.

i think he’d Eventually warm up to jackal as a sort of father figure, but only after many nights of conversation and dancing around the subject of shebrie.

OH YEAH. this argo doesn’t know the commodore murdered his mother! important to note! he just assumes what he was told was true, that she sailed into dangerous territory and was ambushed.

during the tribunal bit If That Even Happens In This World, i think fitzroy actually is the one who figures it out Before argo. and once argo does, well............fuck!

OKAY last little bit, just gonna talk about some random extra parts of the world that i’ve thought of already:

in this universe, grey takes on higglemas’s identity instead of hieronymous’s!!! this is for good reason actually

okay so basically my thought was that, instead of whatever happened in canon yadda yadda dog time, hieronymous and grey are fighting and it’s a pretty evenly matched battle. there’s a cooldown moment where hiero thinks he’s safe but grey uses sneaky backhanded tactics to try and get the drop on him.

only higgs sees it in time and saves his brother, taking the hit himself. he collapses, extremely wounded, and hiero rushes to his aid. he’s cradling his brother’s body, trying to keep him alive, when grey approaches to deliver the final blow.

hiero is completely crushed and defeated and basically will let grey do anything to him by this point. the only thing he begs of is to let him live long enough to save his brother.

now, grey isn’t nice. let me make that clear. grey fucking SUCKS and the reason he agrees is because he wants a Real War with hiero and he can’t get that if hiero is basically like “if you let higgs die then you might as well kill me”.

so, grey agrees, and hiero ends up saving higgs by turning him into a cat. was supposed to be a temporary solution until he could find a better spell, but he wasn’t the magic guy in the duo. eventually, grey gets tired of waiting and decides to do some other shit. like turning the school the brothers have been running into a backalley place for demons!!

he takes the form of higglemas and leaves hieronymous locked in his office as basically a mascot. he’s like the queen and grey is the parliament--grey makes all the rules, but everyone assumes it’s hiero. faux-higgs is more on the ground, changing things and making the school a place more fitting for an eventual war. he builds up the concept of heroes and villains being Real, in the hopes he can sway some mortals to his side when he’s able to open a portal to hell.

hiero still tries to stop this from happening, but his pride and his self-image is wounded by what happened. he feels guilty and puts the blame entirely on him, instead of doing the whole cowardice route like higgs did in canon. he gets people to help him eventually, via mind control and all tht jazz.

also in this universe, buckminster is the one who gets birdified instead of leon!! has to do with my leon/buckminster and higgs/hiero narrative parallels that i’ve thought of for far too long.

firbolg is exactly the same in this universe. it is hard to swap three people and i didn’t want to think about him.

fitzroy doesn’t pick a grab. i think he’d rather a lizard, like a bearded dragon. he names him something stupid. like scaly. or kyle.

uhhh yeah!!! i think that’s....everything i’ve thought of so far!! lemme know if you wanna hear my takes on any other elements in the roleswap world!!!!

#taz graduation #taz sir fitzroy maplecourt #taz argo keene #roleswap maplekeene #ignorance cloud on #thanks em!!!!#sorry this is a mile long i had a lot to say #and now...i sleep!#jesus christ i have to drive 16 hrs tomorrow #help me :-)#ember360

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