#also these two idiots are an excuse for me to drop all my funny enemies scenarios on them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wondernimbus · 4 years ago

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two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,” the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years ago

Text

One-Shot: Sev + Motto

Sev x gn!reader fic, features the rest of Delta Squad as supporting characters.

Word Count: 1400 or so

Warnings: reader receives minor injuries (burns) on a mission

---

"Play di’kutla games, win di’kutla prizes."

If you had heard Sev say it once, you had heard him say it a thousand times.

Working with Delta Squad was normally fine. Honestly, it was outright entertaining on a regular basis. As an expert in untraceable comms, you were often partnered with commando squads. Infiltrating enemy planets was a norm in your job, and you made sure the squads could communicate with each other and nearby GAR ships regardless of which side controlled the planetside communications systems.

Delta was one of your favorite groups. Fixer was direct and to-the-point, efficient beyond all else. Scorch was side-splittingly funny, even in the middle of an intense battle. Sev was funny as well, though his humor was darker and full of wickedly clever observations. Boss was a natural leader, and he never felt the need to throw his authority around to make a point. More importantly, Delta Squad accepted you as one of their own, and your work with them was seamless in a way it wasn’t among other commando squads.

Of course, that also meant that you were subject to the same treatment as any other member of Delta Squad.

“Watch your fingers!” Fixer warned. “Heat gloves are standard issue for a reason.”

“Does it look like I have time to put on gloves?” you demanded. “Focus on covering me, and I’ll get this done.”

Two minutes, forty-seven seconds later, you had finished setting up the tower and taken a major step toward establishing communications on the Separatist-controlled planet. You would never admit it to Fixer, but you had thoroughly burnt several of your fingers on the superheated durasteel of the communication diverter’s inner core.

Crawling back through the brush to avoid enemy detection was awful. It may not have been so bad, but the burns were scattered across both of your hands and they were already beginning to blister.

You made it back in good time, despite the injuries you were trying to hide. Boss and Scorch had been the other team, going to plant detonators in the appropriate spots. Despite the comparative complexity of your task, you and Fixer were the first ones back. Sev was there to greet you, scowling at the pair of you.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Excuse me, are we not the first team to finish?” you asked, satisfaction clear in your voice.

“Yeah, but if you had been faster, we would have an update on Boss and Scorch by now,” Sev countered. “You know how Scorch gets around too many thermal dets. He may have blown himself up by now and we missed it.”

“Considering how many detonators he had, I’m sure we would have seen the explosion from here,” Fixer told him.

You laughed at the solid point - half because Fixer was funny when he wanted to be and half to release the anxiety and adrenaline of a successfully completed stealth mission.

Fixer leveled an unimpressed look at you. “Besides, some of us could spend this time treating the injuries we’re trying to hide.”

“You got hurt?” Sev asked, frowning at you. From any other squad, it might have sounded like concern, but you immediately spotted it for what it was: a vague irritated belief that you would slow them down.

"Barely," you snorted. "Minor burns, nothing to worry about."

"Until the blisters pop and leave you open to infection," Fixed countered, already taking over the observation post Sev had been manning. "Oh-Seven, take care of it, please? I'm not up to playing medic right now."

"Oh, so I have to?" Sev griped.

You stood up, throwing a look of disgust at the pair. "I think I'll patch myself up, thanks."

You had barely cracked open Delta Squad's first aid kit when heavy footsteps warned that someone had followed you. You ignored Sev's red-streaked armor as he stepped up behind you, focusing instead on spreading bacta gel across the tender burns on your hands.

"Here, just- Would you let me do that?" Sev asked impatiently, taking the gel from your hands.

"I could do it myself," you told him, a little pointlessly, since he had already taken over.

"I know you could, but it'll be faster if you let me."

Sev had removed his helmet, and he had the stubborn set to his jaw that warned that he wasn't going to let this go. Rather than waste both of your time, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your hands. He knelt in front of you, the kit open beside him, and started to apply the bacta gel.

He worked in silence for a few minutes, callused fingers oddly gentle against your skin, until you couldn't take it anymore. "Go ahead, say it."

"Say what?" Sev asked, looking up at you with a frown on his scarred face.

"What you always say," you explained with a frown of your own. "Come on, it's basically your motto."

"I don't have a motto," Sev told you slowly. "I'm not some idiot with a motto. I'm not Scorch."

"Okay, but you can't think of a single phrase you repeat often?" You pressed. "Especially when someone gets hurt doing something you think is stupid?"

"Not really," Sev denied, clearly puzzling it over.

You watched him, aghast at the idea that you had been making up his insulting phrase. As he turned his attention back to your burns, you caught a glimmer in his eye and you nudged him with your foot.

"That's not funny, Sev!" you tried your best to sound furious, but the way you were laughing detracted from the effect. Sev chuckled along with you. "I thought I was going insane!"

"I wouldn't say it to you," Sev said, finishing the last bandage.

You stared at him. "Yeah, of course not. It isn't like you've said it to me multiple times in past missions."

"Well, those, you actually had done something stupid and you got what you deserved," he told you mercilessly. "But this time, you got hurt trying to complete a mission."

"Yeah, but I wasn't wearing the proper gear," you countered.

Sev didn't look impressed, picking up one of your carefully bandaged hands as he spoke. "I know burns, and heat gloves wouldn't have saved you here. Maybe the burns would have been less intense, but we would also be picking melted synthweave out of your hands."

You squeezed Sev's hand since it was still wrapped around your own. "Thanks for making me feel better, Sev, and for taking care of my hands."

"Well, I have to make sure my favorite comm specialist is willing to work with us again," Sev told you, helping you to your feet.

You had never taken a step away, and from your position standing close to Sev, you stared up with a dumb grin spreading across your face. "I'm your favorite comm specialist?"

"You're my favorite anything specialist," he told you and you beamed at him. To your complete shock, he returned your smile, his handsome face glowing with the quiet happiness of the moment.

You began to speak, though you had no idea what you planned to say. Unfortunately - or fortunately - you were interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Boss and Scorch. Delta Squad's leader was supporting Scorch, who limped along making exaggerated noises of pain.

"Scorch, what happened? Are you okay?" you asked, horrified that he had been hurt.

"I didn't bring enough fuse," Scorch answered, immediately dropping his pained attitude - though his limp didn't change a bit. "Had to run from the site and I twisted my ankle."

"Well, play di'kutla games, win di'kutla prizes," Sev told him sourly as you shot him a disbelieving grin.

"Yeah, yeah," Scorch muttered. "This team doesn't appreciate my talents."

"Talents," Fixed scoffed.

"Of course!" Scorch replied, sounding offended. "It takes talent to get hurt this often and not die."

"The Kaminoans may have bred us for tenacity, but I don't think that's what they had in mind," Boss told him. "There's something to be said for learning from your mistakes."

"Isn't anyone on my side?" Scorch complained, eyeing you pointedly.

You sighed, but threw him some sympathy anyway. "I'm on your side, Scorch. I'm glad you're okay."

Fixer cut short Scorch's gloating. "That's only because you weren't the only one who was injured doing something stupid today."

Scorch gave you a commiserating nod. "Did Sev give you the speech, too?"

You glanced up at Sev. The scarred commando was watching you as he tried to bite back a smile. You shot him a subtle wink and said, "Yeah, something like that."

---

A/N - dedicated to myself, because I say "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes" way too often for someone who is usually the one playing the stupid game. Feel free to visit my masterlist for other one-shots and series, or make a request!

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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years ago

Note

ok dorcas and marlene as chaotic professors at the same university? could be an AU, could just be Hogwarts

As told in Text Conversations:

Groupchat: Picasso is a Bitch

Dorcas: New Teacher alert.

Lily: Department?

Dorcas: Engineering

Remus: Sounds hot

Dorcas: shut up immediately.

Remus: you’re not my mom

Lily: M or F

Dorcas: F

Remus: Dammit

Lily: seem nice?

Dorcas: idk. I didn’t get the chance to actually talk to her. It was more like a moment in passing. She was surrounded by guys, though

Remus: what a lesbian move

Lily: how… how is that even a thing?

Remus: Lils, are you dumb? If girls ONLY hang out with guys, chances are they’re butch. Or they know they aren’t attracted to guys and are wild as fuck and have nothing to lose. They have no one to impress, really. Those are the only two options.

Dorcas: Jesus

Remus: No, I’m sure he wasn’t there

Dorcas: I have to leave this conversation before I physically kill Remus Lupin. Talk to you both later.

Lily: Lunch in our usual spot?

Remus: Tell me if you see the Lesbian again.

Remus: Also, where the fuck is Alice?

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead

Sirius: Well lads, I dropped off the love of our lives at school. Felt like a proud parent. Almost cried.

Marlene: You are aware that I know how to make explosives from scratch right? I’ve been aching to do it for a while, so you wanna keep doing this? Is this happening?

James: I need him, though. We’re gonna get married eventually. So no. You are not allowed to blow him up

Marlene: Fuck

Peter: How's the new campus?

Marlene: Small. I mean, it’s a lot smaller of a university, harder to get into and all that. But still. For a place that boasts a great deal of wealth, they certainly don’t show it in building size.

Sirius: That’s how you know they have money. They have nothing to prove. Classic rich people move.

Peter: You should know.

James: Did you get settled though, Mars?

Marlene: Enough. I still have to set up the lecture hall to my liking, but it’s nice to have an office that will probably be permanent. And I saw your door just a few down from mine, Jamie boy! Sirius: I should have become a professor. I feel left out. I hate being left out.

Peter: You have the right degree, Paddy. You could be a professor if you wanted.

Sirius: Desk jobs are gross. No thank you. Also, children.

Marlene: It’s not a desk job. And, like, these children are basically full grown adults.

Sirius: Physically, maybe. But I remember what we were like at their age. Mentally, they belong in daycare.

James: You’re just bitter because those college boys outdrank you the other night.

Sirius: THEY FUCKING CHEATED!

Peter: They didn’t though

James: Whatever you say, Pads.

Marlene: Also, I just saw a very beautiful woman. Will keep you updated if I see her again.

Sirius: WHY ARE YOU ONLY SAYING THIS NOW?!?!

---

Groupchat: Picasso Is a Bitch name changed to Hamlet, that’s fucking gay

Remus: Any sign of the lesbian?

Dorcas: No.

Alice: What? What Lesbian?

Lily: Oh, while you were sick, Dorcas saw a very pretty girl. Remus thinks she’s a lesbian.

Alice: Ooh, that’s fun!

Remus: I don’t THINK Lily, I know.

Dorcas: You haven’t even seen her

Remus: Irrelevant.

Lily: Do you guys know if Potter is back?

Alice: I saw him this morning. He was getting coffee.

Remus: I love that man so much. He’s so beautiful I could literally cry. With that hot caramel skin and that wild hair and how he always smells like some weird spice. I want him to be the father of my children.

Lily: Don’t encourage him.

Remus: He’s not even here.

Lily: He can sense your enthusiasm. So shhhhh

Alice: Do we still not like him?

Lily: No.

Dorcas: You know it was an accident, Lils.

Lily: You don’t know that. And I don’t know that. And who in their RIGHT MIND asks someone out after they’ve pushed them into a fountain? Like, the audacity?!

Remus: At least he’s authentic

Lily: Yeah, an authentic bitch.

Alice: Lol.

Alice: I’m honestly really interested in this Lesbian situation, though. Can we get back to that?

Remus: She’s in the engineering department. So if your cute little math loving butt just wanted to wander over there…

Alice: I’m on my way.

Dorcas: Why are we friends? You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.

Dorcas: ALICE

Lily: They’re doing it out of love.

Dorcas: Well their idea of love is something I am not interested in.

Alice: Blonde?

Dorcas: Fuck.

Remus: Is she blonde, Dorcs?

Remus: IS SHE?!

Dorcas: Yeah.

Alice: Marlene McKinnon. Blonde, blue eyed, I’d say 5”8, 5”9. Masters in Engineering. Very nice.

Remus: Alice, I fucking love you

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead changed to Update, I’m still gay

Sirius: Why the name change?

Marlene: Needed to get your attention

James: But like… with that?

Marlene: It fucking worked, didn’t it?

Peter: What happened?

Marlene: I saw that beautiful woman again. And I was right. She was beautiful.

Sirius: Sounds riveting.

Marlene: I told you I’d keep you updated, and I am. Stop being ungrateful.

Sirius: Yes commander

James: Who was it?

Marlene: Don’t know. Short, black, curly hair?

James: Where did you see her?

Marlene: She was getting a plate of spaghetti in the Canteen.

James: Hm………..

Sirius: James doesn’t know anyone because he’s too busy mooning over Evans.

James: I am so much stronger than you. Do not come for me right now

Peter: Sirius, you have an appointment here, come down.

Sirius: Fuck.

James: Peter, you know you can just text him personally, right?

Peter: I can’t shame him publicly if I only text him.

Marlene: Facts.

James: Did you talk to her?

Marlene: Nah, she was with people. I wanted to though. She seems lovely.

James: Lovely? Who are you and what have you done with Marlene McKinnon.

Marlene: She’s dead now. I’ve inhabited her body.

Sirius: Thank god, she was a bitch.

Peter: SIRIUS

James: I’ll keep an eye out for her. Let me know if you want me to scout it out.

Marlene: Okay, James Bond

---

Groupchat: Hamlet, that’s fucking gay changed to Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it

Dorcas: Remus, stop changing the group chat name. I know where you live.

Remus: We live with each other.

Dorcas: Exactly.

Lily: Are there lesbian updates????

Remus: I met her. She was wandering around, looking for a pop machine.

Alice: Yay! I love Lesbian updates

Remus: Good news: she’s funny. Like, super funny.

Lily: Saying good news like that often means there is bad news to follow

Remus: She’s uh… friends with Potter.

Dorcas: Uh-oh.

Alice: Oh no.

Lily: I’m really sorry that you have to eternally break up with this woman, Dorky. Because NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. ANYONE who is friends with James Potter is not worth knowing.

Alice: That’s pretty judgemental, lils.

Lily: .... And?

Remus: Luckily, you don’t have to date her.

Dorcas: No one is dating ANYONE. Jesus, you guys. Chill out about this whole thing

Remus: I don’t think that’s physically possible.

Dorcas: Can we talk about anything else?

Alice: Frank is taking me out for sushi tonight.

Remus: I would marry Frank in five seconds, if he’d let me

Alice: I’ll let him know.

Remus: Thank you, I appreciate it.

---

Groupchat: Update, I’m still gay changed to Emotionally Unavailable Idiots

Sirius: I have met the love of my life.

Marlene: Stop being dramatic

Sirius: Excuse me? EXCUSE ME? He quoted the Princess Bride with me. Word for Word? Marlene, I must marry this man. WHO IS HE?

Peter: Why do I keep missing all of the fun stuff?

James: The fun stuff is watching Sirius gay panic over a stranger?

Peter: Yeah. Obvs.

Marlene: He’s the lit professor.

James: Lupin?

Marlene: I think so, yeah.

Sirius: An english nerd. Perfect. He can read me poetry while I give people tattoos. We’ll make millions.

Marlene: I think… he wants to be my friend. He’s come around a few times. He even brought me coffee once, with a croissant. I didn’t know people were so nice to strangers. Am I in a hallmark film?

Peter: It’s cause you're such a catch, Mars.

Marlene: I will shove that “catch” up your ass, Pettigrew, if you don’t stop being stupid.

James: Impossible. Stupidity is Peter’s middle name.

Sirius: Yeah Peter Marcus Stupidity Pettigrew.

Peter: My middle name isn’t Marcus.

Sirius: Wait really?

Peter: No?

Sirius: Why the fuck did I think it was Marcus?

James: I think Lupin is bi, Sirius. So…

Sirius: James, you are the other love of my life. I will kiss you when you get home. You provide me with the most valuable information and attention. I can never truly repay you.

James: Finally. Getting the recognition I deserve. Can’t wait.

Sirius: Marlene, please. Be his friend, I am begging you. I will give you our first born child.

Marlene: Pass.

---

Groupchat: Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it changed to I won’t hesitate bitch

Alice: Marlene is so nice

Lily: You’re all traitors. She’s friends with the enEMY

Dorcas: I thought Remus was supposed to be the dramatic one

Remus: I’ll take that as a compliment

Dorcas: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Alice: Seriously though. She’s so nice. A lot of my students have her and they’ve been gushing. Apparently she’s one of the best professors some of them have ever had.

Remus: Damn. High praise.

Lily: Still skeptical

Alice: She asked about you, Dori.

Dorcas: wait, what?

Remus: ALICE SAY MORE RIGHT NOW?!?!

Alice: She said she had noticed that you and I are close and she wanted to know about you. What your name is, what you teach, how long you’ve been working here, if you were single.

Dorcas: She did not ask that.

Remus: Dorcas, shut up forever. Alice is talking. Alice, my love, please continue.

Alice: I may have invited her to eat lunch with us.

Dorcas: Uh…

Lily: You did what?

Alice: She’s new, Lily. I’m trying to help her make friends.

Lily: You did it, didn’t you.

Alice: ummm

Lily: YOU TOLD HER SHE COULD BRING JAMES POTTER, DIDN’T YOU

Alice: He’s her friend. I couldn’t exclude him.

Lily: I never thought this would happen to me. To be betrayed so thoroughly by my own friends. I don’t even have the words.

Alice: Who knows, it might be fun?

Remus: I’m so excited I could burst

Dorcas: Is it legal to drink on campus in the middle of the day?

Remus: Unfortunately not. Trust me, I’ve tried.

---

Marlene McKinnon to Dorcas Meadowes

Marlene: It was nice of all of you to invite me to lunch. I know it was probably awkward for all of you to have to spend time with a stranger. But I really appreciated it.

Dorcas: No problem. You’re always welcome.

Marlene: Maybe… we could go get something to eat off campus sometime?

Dorcas: Yeah, of course. We go to the bar on Wright all the time.

Marlene: Oh, I meant like… just you and me. Actually.

Dorcas: Oh.

Marlene: Yeah. Did I guess wrong?

Dorcas: Guess wrong?

Marlene: About you being into women?

Dorcas: Ohhhh…

Marlene: ??

Dorcas: What did you have in mind? For our date?

Marlene: Wait, is that a yes?

Dorcas: I expect like, first class treatment, because I’ve seen you in action now. Anyone who can wrangle James Potter like that is someone who deserves knowing. So yeah. It’s a yes.

Marlene: Yay! Okay, you won’t regret it!

Marlene: Also, my friend is in love with Lupin.

Dorcas: wait, James?

Marlene: Lol. Nah, James is still hung up on Lily. She’s wonderful, by the way. Tell her I’m grateful she was so kind. I know about what James did last year, so I can understand her bitterness. Fucking funny, though, to see it in person.

Marlene: It’s my other friend, Sirius. He owns the tattoo parlor, Cannis Major, on Levi.

Dorcas: Hmm. Well, let me know what I can do. I’m sure we can get them in the same room at some point.

Marlene: Are you offering to meddle in people’s lives?

Dorcas: Is that okay?

Marlene: Dorcas Meadowes, I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway in love with you.

Dorcas: Thank god.

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

This has been in my ask box for literal months. I’m sorry @tonftyhw !! I had finals and stress and I don’t know how to write. I hope this makes you smile though.

Clarifier for who teaches what if anyone is interested:

Lily-History

Remus-Literature

Dorcas-Art (painting)

Alice-Math

James-Chemistry

Marlene-Engineering/Physics

Sirius owns a tattoo shop because I will die for that AU every time. And Peter works with him, kind of like the brains of the business.

Should I write more of this? It was so fun lol

#my writing #sirius black #wolfstar #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #dorcas x marlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #alice longbottom #text conversations

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meabd · 4 years ago

Text

Tricks of the Trade

Chapter 2: A Complicated Dance

It was nearly five o’clock when you approached the Heyu Teahouse. As you neared the entrance you caught sight of the slender form of the Eleventh Harbinger as he leaned against the side of the building, arms crossed, a look of concentration on his face. He startled as you stepped into view, his expression morphing into one of surprised pleasure.

“[Y/n], you look ravishing ,” he winked, offering you his elbow. You bowed instead, ignoring the gesture.

“Thank you, Tartaglia ,” he rolled his eyes at the use of his code name.

“None of that now. Call me Childe,” it was your turn to roll your eyes as he ushered you through the front door, one hand at the small of your back to direct you. The hostess was deferential to the young man, guiding you quickly to a private chamber on the second floor. The view over the harbor was breathtaking, and you found yourself distracted by it as Childe ordered for you both.

“You know, if we’re being honest I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” his comment broke you away from your thoughts, though you did not turn to acknowledge it.

“It’s funny,” you mused, eyes trained on the setting sun, “for as long as I have lived here I still haven’t gotten used to the beauty of it all,” he hummed in reply. Finally you turn to look at him, your gaze flickering over his formal Snezhnyan suit. He had no business looking as good as he did. “Why did you really ask me out this evening?” He cocked his head, his lips quirking into a bemused grin.

“Because you’re a beautiful woman with impressive connections with the highest powers operating out of Liyue Harbor,” his voice was matter of fact. The waitress returned with the bottle of wine he’d requested, pouring two glasses and bustling away.

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” you murmured, swirling the wine in your glass as you waited for him to taste it first.

“And I never said you were,” he countered, taking a healthy gulp of his own wine. “So who do you work for?” You took a small sip from your glass before answering.

“Lady Keqing oversees my work for—”

“I would appreciate it if you did not insult my intelligence,” he cut you off.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sniffed primly. The charming smile had not slipped from his face, but there was a newfound tension around his eyes.

“Come on Miss [y/n], whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in it’s nothing the Fatui can’t handle. I’m sure we can, what is it you said? ‘Come to an equitable agreement’?” His smile was soft and comforting—and entirely false.

“Just what is it you’re implying, Master Childe?” You weren’t sure exactly what it was he thought you were, but you were glad to hear he wasn’t either.

“[Y/n], hails from Wuwang Hill, father deceased, mother deceased, brother jailed for petty crimes in Fontaine—is that who it is? Your brother is being held hostage and Fontaine's struck a deal with you?” Your mouth hung open, an expression of sincere shock. Childe leaned back, hands behind his head to enjoy the fruits of his detective work.

Little did he know, your shock was not because he was right, but rather that he actually bought your Cover. Sure, [y/n] was your real name, but it was also the name of a little girl who’d gone missing during the Wuwang Hill landslide. A little bureaucratic magic was all it took to assume her identity.

“It’s okay,” his expression softened as he leaned forward again, laying one hand atop your own, “I know what it is to care for family. You would do terrible things to keep them safe…” his voice trailed off as if he were remembering his own misdeeds. “I want to help you,” his voice was earnest. He was a damn good actor.

“I… appreciate the offer,” you gulped, attempting to tug your hand away to no avail.

“...But?” he pressed you.

“But they’d kill me,” and that part wasn’t a lie.

“Snezhnya is a formidable country. We have ways of helping… people like you,” he squeezed your hand in what you assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It felt claustrophobic.

“I don’t know,” you bit your lip, dropping your chin a scant inch so you could look up at him through your mascara thickened lashes. “I couldn’t possibly give you an answer right now,” he nodded, withdrawing his hand.

“I understand, of course. Take some time to think about it. The Tsaritsa is a strong Archon, you would be safe within our ranks,” you pursed your lips, hoping the tension in your face read as nervousness and not amusement. A silence fell between the two of you, though not one as uncomfortable as before. When the server arrived with your food, all seriousness bled away from Childe’s face as he thanked the young woman before refilled your wine glass.

The conversation shifted as the two enjoyed your meal. You weren’t completely at ease, but that was nothing special; you never were. Childe, having gotten his ‘proposal’ out of the way was a regular chatterbox. It was really quite impressive how much he said without revealing anything of substance.

He was a charming man, that was doubtless; his conversation skills were remarkable, he was an active listener, and his flirtations (though inappropriate, in your opinion) managed to steer clear of any touchy territory. He was beautiful, to say the least, with striking eyes and a well formed figure that would send any woman’s heart aflutter. He was the perfect Honey Trap.

But then again… so were you.

“This has been lovely, thank you,” you smiled at him with a bit more honesty than was advisable.

“Why does that sound like a goodbye?” He stepped closer into your space, his fingers grazing the delicate bone of your wrist.

“Because it is? I have to go to Master Shizhuong’s,” you backed away from him.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he cajoled, “come take a walk with me, we could revisit that tree,” his eyebrows twitched up at the suggestive remark.

“No, thank you. Perhaps next time. I’m going to be late as it is,” you turned to leave but were halted by a hand on your elbow.

“When I asked you out tonight I didn’t just mean to dinner, [y/n].”

“That’s all well and good Master Childe, but I do have work to do. Now if you’ll excuse me—” he yanked you forward, pressing his body against yours. His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you shuddered to feel his warm breath against it.

“You don’t honestly think I’d let you out of my sight now , do you? That banquet doesn’t start for another hour at least,” there was a threat in those words, no matter how soft the tone was. You pulled back from him, shifting your features into what you hoped was a neutral expression.

“...I’m the dance coordinator. There’s a Yayue performance before the feast, I have to be there for the arrangement.” Childe’s smile was contrite and his grip on you loosened.

“Sorry, sorry, just being cautious you know,” he laughed. You huffed an incredulous sigh.

“Come on, ‘you don’t honestly think’ I’d run off to wreak havoc at a banquet immediately after your oh so considerate offer,” you tossed his turn of phrase back at him and he frowned.

“I would certainly hope not,” he brushed a stray curl out of your eyes. “See you there, then? That is if you have time for me,” he winked. Despite your better judgement you nodded your assent before making your way to the estate.

As you approached the back entrance to the mansion you let your fingers trace over the wood of the exterior until you found the right panel. As quickly and discreetly as you could manage you lifted it off its hinges and swapped the bottle that was inside with the note you’d had strapped to your upper thigh. You took a moment to lean against the building, one hand pressed against your chest. You took several deep breaths before straightening your qipao and heading inside. To any wayward onlooker it would seem as if you were merely collecting yourself. If who you thought was tailing you actually was, then you’d just solidified your cover as an indecisive and reluctant operative.

Inside the mansion you passed the dancer’s dressing room to enter Master Shizhuong’s private chambers. You removed the bottle from your bodice, dripping its contents onto the bottom edge of an ornately framed painting. Behind it lay the Master’s safe, containing valuable and important documents. Documents that you had on good authority were to be stolen by a Fontainèse spy that very evening.

You re-corked the bottle and returned to the dressing area, satisfied with your work. Launching into your Cover role you helped apply traditional makeup, tied ribbons, tightened bodices and arranged hair as the dancers gossiped amongst themselves. Ming, one of the youngest dancers of your ranks, sat quietly in the corner. You approached her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright there?” You inquired. Her large doe eyes met yours and you could see the fear in them. She nodded.

“Are you… will you still help me tonight?”

Ming had come to you the week before with a sob story about needing money to help her sick mother. She shared with you her (rather convoluted) plan to bed Master Shizhuong, then blackmail him into providing her with the necessary funds. She’d asked for your help, imploring you to distract the middle-aged politician long enough for her to ‘prepare herself’ in his chambers.

You had, of course, readily agreed. You would never turn down a chance to take out an enemy operative. You almost felt bad—almost because, frankly she just wasn’t very good at her job. Her Cover was flimsy at best and her true intention—stealing classified documents from your host—was laughably easy to suss out. You smiled gently at the girl, a warm and comforting expression.

“Of course Ming. Anything for you. Please be safe,” you hugged the younger woman and felt her tears on your neck.

“No crying now,” you murmured, wiping a tear off of her cheek. “You’ll smear your makeup. Be strong; think of your mother and be strong ,” Ming’s smile was watery, but she nodded.

This is entirely too easy .

The entertainment had gone off without a hitch (because of course it had, you were damned good at your job) and you were engaging the Master of the house in a spirited discussion on the merits of the use of Cor Lapis in the production of chopsticks. You noticed your host’s eyes drifting over to the clock and you ran your finger down the seam of his sleeve, a coy gesture. Just as you were about to switch topics you felt a hand on your back.

“If I may be so bold, I believe Noctilucous Jade to be the superior material,” Zhongli’s smooth voice cut in and you inwardly groaned.

“Yes, yes, right as always Master Zhongli,” Shizhuong nodded with enthusiasm. “But—ah, excuse me please, I’m afraid I have an urgent matter to attend to,” he bowed before beating a hasty retreat. You hoped you stalled him for long enough for the poison to take effect. You’d be very disappointed if Ming lived long enough to get any of it on your host. You actually quite liked him.

“Hello Uncle,” you smiled pleasantly, using the honorific you reserved for when he was getting on your nerves. Zhongli’s head cocked to the side.

“My my, you’re in a mood, aren’t you? I take it your sortie with our resident Harbinger was not to your liking?” You blanched.

“I—you—he told you?” Zhongli chuckled.

“Bragged about it is more like it,” Childe’s voice came from behind you as an arm snaked its way around your waist. You fought hard against your instinct to flinch away. Zhongli inclined his head in greeting and Childe returned the gesture. “And I thought we had a lot of fun, didn’t we [y/n]?” You knew you were blushing but didn’t bother to fight it.

“Yes, ah, it was quite enjoyable,” your voice wavered just the slightest. Enough so that Childe’s grip on your waist tightened a bit.

“I must admit, I did not see this particular turn of events,” Zhongli remarked, his golden eyes lingering on the fingers tapping against your hip bone. “[Y/n] has never been out with a man, not once in the five years I’ve known her.”

“Maybe I was waiting for the right one,” you grit out from your teeth clenching smile.

“ Ming !” Master Shizhuong’s startled cry was muffled, but audible. The three of you turned in unison to stare at the hallway leading to the dressing rooms.

“Ming… no ,” you gasped, attempting to break away from Childe.

“Hold on—” he started but you pushed him away.

“Ming is one of my girls, I have to— I—” you shook your head before running towards the sound of the shout. You flung open the dressing room door, stopping only for a moment. You knew Zhongli and Childe were following you and you had to make a show of searching.

“Ming!” You screamed, continuing down the hall, throwing doors open as you went. Finally you made it to the master bedroom, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as a strangled sob escaped. You sagged against the door frame, making sure to hold your position until your companions had caught up. In the bedroom Ming laid slumped against the wall, dressed in nothing but her undergarments. The picture frame had been moved and the wall safe was clearly visible. Master Shizhuong sat on the bed, head in his hands.

“Oh no, no what did they do to you?” You stumbled into the room, dropping to your knees in front of her body. You reached out, hands shaking, as if to touch her, but felt yourself being yanked away.

“Don’t,” Childe’s voice was tight. “She may have been poisoned. Don’t touch anything ,” he barked. You felt your breath hitch as tears came to your eyes. These, at least, were more genuine than the one’s Childe had previously called you on. You liked Ming, you really did—she reminded you of yourself when you first started out.

You let that kernel of truth slip through your mask as you sobbed in Childe’s arms. He ran a soothing hand through your hair, pressing your face into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t look at her corpse.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he whispered. “Zhongli, can you handle this?” He must have nodded since you found yourself being tugged to your feet.

“No. I have to—I have to help her,” you protested softly. Childe shushed you again and led you from the room. “That could have been me,” you whispered, your voice hollow.

“It could have,” your companion agreed, though not unkindly. You allowed yourself to be dragged into the adjoining study. Gentle hands prodded you into an overstuffed chair and Childe knelt on the ground in front of you.

“I’m sorry [y/n], but I have to ask—did you have anything to do with this?” You tried to breathe in but the air stuck in your throat. Wordlessly you shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. You were certain your makeup was a disaster and you regretted your choice in mascara.

“Alright. Okay. Stay here. Zhongli and I will handle the rest,” he soothed, moving to stand.

“No,” you choked out, standing as well. “No, I have twenty nine other girls out there that need me,” you sniffled, wiping away the moisture on your cheeks. Childe stared at you, his face unreadable.

“Fine. But wait for me. You’ll need an escort home tonight,” you didn‘t argue. He turned to leave and you reached out without thinking. He stilled, looking down at your joined hands.

“I’m sorry. I… thank you,” you startled at the soft brush of lips against your forehead. He said nothing in reply, sweeping out of the room in a hurry.

Report;

Things have progressed well with Agent Pisces. Target believes me to be operating under duress and has made overtures to turn me. Agent Swan has been eliminated, Millelith on high alert. Will proceed with caution.

Dead Drop at Blue House compromised, Sanitized documents have been left there, please convey a new rendez-vous point ASAP.

Operation Blowback Intercept on hold until further notice.

I await further instructions.

Swallow

#my fic #my wriing #series #tricks of the trade #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact head cannons #childe #tartaglia #flirty childe #reader insert #fan fiction #espionage #spy games #chapter two #childe x reader

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awhiskeyriver · 4 years ago

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Yay! So happy that you're writing AND that we get to have some more insight on TheBet! Peeta! :) I'd like to know what was going on his mind on thanksgiving, with K being there with his family. Also, it's not Peeta's POV, but I was always wondered what Madge's thoughts on Katniss were when they accidently met at the boys apartment door for the first time, and also when she sees K in the dunk tank and Peeta stops to "save" her. Did she recognize K from the bet? Was she curious?

Thank you so much!

Okay, so this isn’t *exactly* what you requested...but this is the scene at the dunk tank from Peeta’s POV with some insight into Madge as well! I had a few requests for the Thanksgiving scene, so keep an eye out for that one later on as well! :) Hope you enjoy!

+++

“Hey, I know her.”

I turned to Madge, following her line of sight down the pier to where Katniss Everdeen was sitting above a dunk tank clad in nothing but a soaked-through bikini. As if on cue, a gust of cool wind struck and I watched her shoulders instinctively hunch while some guy with a megaphone encouraged people to visit the booth.

“Yeah, everyone knows her,” Gale snorted, looking away with a shake of his head. “She’ll go down in history as the dumbest sorority girl at Panem. And that’s saying something.”

Why would they choose a dunk tank for a party in the middle of October? It wouldn’t surprise me if there was snow on the ground in a few short weeks, and yet they had people sitting out at night in barely anything? Made no sense. Megaphone guy looked warm enough in his fleece jacket...

Madge shot Gale a disapproving look before pressing on. “I meant that’s the girl who came to the apartment the other day.”

“Stop pointing,” I hissed, rubbing a hand along the back of my neck subconsciously. The last thing I needed was for her to catch us talking about her.

When coach heavily implied we all needed to spend more time together off field ‘bonding’--aka, I needed to leave the apartment for more than practice and class--the only option worth consideration was to head to Greek row. It was the place most students could be found on a Saturday night, and this weekend more than most, since it was their fall fundraiser. Chances of encountering Katniss were high, and I knew that, but I could hardly convince my team mates and coach that I was over the entire bet if I kept avoiding social settings like the plague.

So, to the frat house we went. And sure enough, there she was.

I swallowed heavily, hating the way the sweat on the back of my neck felt ice cold when the wind hit. And the way it made me pity Katniss for how cold she must be.

Shit, she caught me staring.

Our eyes met for a short moment before I looked away, uncomfortable heat encompassing my body at being caught.

Madge, who had no shame, continued to look on before nudging me in the side playfully.

“She’s got a smokin’ body.”

“Jesus, Madge,” I grumbled, afraid someone would over hear her. My embarrassment only made her laugh and she patted my back lovingly as I stared down at my shoes.

I could feel Katniss looking over in my direction still. The heat of her deep gray eyes boring into the side of my head. Her full lips pursed and eyebrows slightly downcast.

“Am I wrong?” she asked, the question open for any takers. I wasn’t stupid, I saw the lingering glances a few of the guys gave before trying to feign indifference. If it was for my sake, there was no point. I knew she was good looking.

Hot.

I chanced another glance, and for a heated moment we stared at one another. Swallowing hard and stuffed my hands down into my pockets for something to do.

Who was I kidding, she was fucking stunning.

Which made me all the more an idiot for ever believing she was interested in me.

“It’d be kind of funny to dunk her,” Gale pointed out, wrapping a protective arm around Madge to starve off the wind. I watched in the distance as Katniss gave into the struggle and finally wrapped her arms around her bare stomach.

How much longer would they seriously make her stay up there?

“Try your chances to dunk a Theta. You can’t convince me you haven’t thought about it at least once,” Megaphone guy continued to taunt. “If for no other reason, it’s an excuse to see one soaking wet…”

My feet moved without permission, before I was even fully aware of what I was doing, but I heard Finnick ask where I was going and saw the wide-eyed stare of Katniss as I walked up to the dunk tank.

The guy attending it lowered his megaphone to the table and leaned forward with an easy grin. Either he recognized me, or thought I was a scumbag who gave into his pitch. Or both.

“Five bucks for three hits, bro,” he said, holding a hand out.

“How many rounds until she’s done for the night?” Something about her sitting there on display, shivering so hard her teeth were chattering, made me ask.

The guy looked confused, and I was staring to lose my patience.

“You want her to get down?” he confirmed, and when I gave a short nod his eyes narrowed.

“That’s not really how this works.”

“Will it work for two-hundred?”

“Dollars?”

I pulled out my wallet, handing him the cash with ease that should’ve given me pause. I was in too deep to care, now. Focused on my goal.

“You can do whatever you want with her for two hundred dollars,” the kid joked, and he seemed to sense my disapproval as he turned to the megaphone to announce to anyone within a five mile radius that I’d paid a pretty penny to play the game. Surrounding us a few people cheered or clapped, but mostly we went ignored as he slapped a bucket of bean bags onto the table for me to take the hits I’d paid for. I ignored it, walking past the table and over to the booth where Katniss eyed me with a level of distrust.

“Hey,” she said slowly, crossing her legs which were eye-level with my face.

I cleared my throat before returning the sentiment.

Her eyes darted between the untouched bean bags and me for a moment before a sly smirk tickled her lips.

“Come to warn me that you’re about to pelt me with a bucket worth of bean bags?” she laughed, eyebrows raised in question.

“No,” I said, and my answer seemed to surprise her. Did she really think I was going to throw bean bags at her? “I came to tell you that you can get down.”

She wasn’t convinced. Katniss folded her arms across herself, doing wonderful things to her chest that I fought to ignore as I kept my eyes trained on her face, which was still painted with unease.

I realized then that my request came off more instructional and demanding than I intended, like I was ordering her to get down or something. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that maybe she was having fun. Despite the cold, she might’ve been enjoying herself and there I was, coming to ruin it.

“If you want,” I added, lamely, wondering if again I was about to be rejected, left to walk away awkwardly after yet another failed encounter with Katniss Everdeen.

I’d barely gotten the words out before she nodded eagerly though, reaching out for help to get down from the high seat above the tank. I lifted an arm up to help, not letting go of hers until she was firmly back on the ground.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, pushing a piece of curly hair back behind her ear before crossing her arms again.

“No problem.” I was glad my voice came out normal, masking the way my heart was pounding inside my chest with her standing inches away from me practically naked.

Practically naked.

Shit.

“Do you, uh, have a towel or a blanket?” A blanket? Really? I looked around the ground stupidly for anything resembling such, but came up short.

“I left it inside,” she admitted, biting down on her lip.

“Here.” I pulled my sweatshirt off, smoothing the material out before holding it out for her to take. It wasn’t much, but comparatively it was something at least.

She took the offering without complaint, pulling it down over her head before turning up to me with an appreciative smile.

She was drowning in the fabric, the thing almost reached her knees it was so big and she had to roll the sleeves several times before the material stopped falling over her hands.

“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly. “It’s huge.”

“It’s comfortable,” she argued, and the bright smile she gifted me was enough for me to return it. We stood there a moment longer, but with nothing more to say and the temperature only dropping, I figured it was best to let her go inside to warm up.

When I chanced a glance over at the group of people waiting for me, their reactions to the exchange between Katniss and I varied, but Madge gave me a wink that had me turning away quickly.

“I’ll come find you after I change to return this,” she said, motioning to the sweatshirt.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said quickly, not wanting her to feel like it was all part of some elaborate ploy to make her come find me later tonight. She could keep it forever, for all I cared. It looked far better on her than it ever had on me.

Her expression looked doubtful though, and sensing she needed some reassurance, I added, “You can give it back to me another time. Just go get warm. It’s freezing out here.”

“Okay,” she said almost shyly, a far cry from the girl I’d originally met. But, I guess that was where we were now that things had fallen apart. Awkwardly tip-toeing around one another, unsure of how to proceed. Not really friends but...what? Not enemies, at least. It didn’t seem like it.

“Peet, let’s go!” I heard Finnick call out and the realization that they were all still standing there watching, that anyone could be, made my skin heat.

“I’ve uh, gotta get going.”

She waved goodbye as I turned to walk away, unsure how I felt about the exchange. But when I made my way back to the waiting group, Madge gave me one of her clever looks that couldn’t go ignored.

“What?” I asked, hesitantly. I really didn’t feel like being the center of conversation--especially one to do with Katniss Everdeen--for the rest of the night.

“That was a good move, giving her your jacket.”

“It’s cold,” I insisted.

“Yeah, but now she’ll have to return it.”

“I mean, she doesn’t have to,” I said quietly, trying to remember if I’d asked her to or not but the whole conversation was honestly a blur.

“She will.” Madge was leaving no room for debate. “And in order to do that, she’ll need to set up a time to see you again. Sly dog.”

“It’s not like that,” I insisted, but Madge only shrugged before walking quicker to catch up with Gale.

She was a helpless romantic, it wasn’t her fault, but that didn’t change the fact that there was nothing between Katniss Everdeen and I besides guilt and awkwardness. Maybe in an alternate universe, before the bet things could’ve been different.

But in this one, she is somebody with endless options. Beautiful, popular…

And I’m just me.

#anon #ask #the bet #peeta pov #fanfic #thg #the panem nightlocks series

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phantoms-lair · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll Face Myself Part 3

Woot, actually got it out in time for the new video!

As Lewis entered the cave it began to fade around him, leaving him in a much smaller and narrower space, the rip being the only thing that stated the same.

“Lewis you need to stop antagonizing him.” Lewis opened his mouth to argue but Mystery cut him off. “He didn’t take Arthur to the actual place he died, he turned this truck container into a recreation of it. He’s powerful enough to warp reality, so badly it tore a hole in space and time. He’s powerful and unhinged and you need to be more careful.”

Lewis swallowed and nodded. As much as he wanted to dig some more at the wraith’s stupidity, it showed it didn’t think of collateral damage and there was an injured Vivi out there. Bracing himself, he exited the back of the truck. But whatever he was expecting, it paled in the face of what he was seeing.

Kingsmen’s was a place he’d been countless times before. But it was currently a warzone. The van was crashed into the side of the building. Vivi was injured on the ground, clutching a sword. Lance was standing over her, the smoke from his shotgun showing he’d just fired it.

What he’d shot was a strange plant lady, half her face missing but rapidly regrowing. She was fighting off what looked like a giant Mystery and the Wraith with an oversized pair of shears.

It was almost too much to take in, so Lewis focused on the important part. If Vivi was still on the ground while this was going on she was definitely hurt. He ducked over to where she was, ready to carry her away in the confusion.

“Wha-Lewis?!” Lance asked in disbelief. “Where the devil have you been, boy?”

“I don’t know, apparently undead and out of my freaking mind?” Lewis couldn’t keep his panic out of his voice. Vivi was nowhere near as bad as Arthur was, but she still looked like she’d been knocked around a bit.

“Have you seen Arthur? I can’t find him.” Lewis was sure Lance had wanted to ask a whole bunch of other questions, but of course that one took priority.

“Apparently Anger Issues over there accidentally ripped a hole into the past and future Arthur fell out of it. My Vivi and Arthur are taking him to the hospital. Mystery and I stayed behind to distract the wraith.”

“Hospital?” Vivi tried her best to sit up. “Lemme up. I need to get to Arthur.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’re getting you to the hospital as soon as we can.” He glanced up. “Do you think we can sneak her out?”

“Not sure. The plant lady was pretty focused on her.” Lance huffed.

Lewis glanced around. There wasn’t much cover, besides the truck he had emerged from (and damn, apparently the chaos had overwhelmed Mystery. He was just sitting in front of the trailer and staring). “The rip is in the truck. If we can get Vivi there, we can go back to the present and hopefully lose her.”

“That’s where Arthur is?” Vivi asked hopefully. “It is,” Lewis confirmed.

He and Lance helped her up and led her towards the portal when the plant lady gave a sudden shriek and rocketed towards them, blades first. Lewis pulled in front of him and curled around her. He only hoped those shears weren’t powerful enough to go through him and into her.

A blur of white and red whooshed past him as Mystery, the one who’d come with him, collided with the plant lady. Only now he was the size of a small horse with far too many tails.

Apparently the canine who has been fighting the tree lady didn’t just look like Mystery.

Speaking of, the tree lady seemed shocked by a second Mystery and was thrown off enough that the wraith and his Mystery was able to drive her back. The older, more injured Mystery limped toward them. He stared at Lewis a moment. “Time Travel?” he asked. “Thanks to my idiotic future self.” Lewis grumbled.

“Future self?” Lance turned an incomprehensible look on him. Apparently they hadn’t put it together that the rampaging wraith was his ghost. “You’ve been trying to hurt Arthur?” Vivi’s voice was a growl, fierce despite the fact that she couldn’t stand on her own. “You know I would never- Father Wennel.”

Vivi’s face cleared immediately. “Oh...oh that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Lance’s tone was dark. “Father Wennel was a priest whose church was a station on the Underground Railroad. He was caught and tortured for other locations, but died rather than give them up. Because of his violent death he came back as a wraith - and immediately attacked his former comrades.” Vivi explained.

“All he could remember about his death was their names and locations, the information he was trying to hide.” Lewis continued. “And in his altered state mistakenly believed the information was of the people who killed him. So if I died violently while worried about Arthur-” “And Arthur lost his arm the same time you disappeared.” Lance finished sadly. He glanced at the burning wraith.

“Don’t pity him.” Lewis said heatedly. “That thing used to be me, but it isn’t anymore. It’s dangerous and will stop at nothing to hurt Arthur. It needs to be put down. If we’re lucky it and the tree lady will take each other down.”

“No chance of that.” Mystery said grimly. “He is exceptionally powerful for a ghost, especially for a new ghost, but Shiromori is on a whole different level. I know no way to permanently defeat her, and the only one who can stop her, even temporarily, is Vivi.” “Me?” she asked, surprised.

Mystery nodded. “She was sealed away by your ancestor centuries ago. You could redo the sealing-” “How?” Vivi demanded. “-by driving your ancestor’s blade through her.” Mystery finished. Vivi shot him a look. “Two problems with that. One, I have no clue where it is, two I can barely stand much less wield it.” “The first is not a problem, it can be summoned. The second is more pressing.” “Which is why we should continue with the getting out of here,” Lewis pointed out. He tried to pull her towards the truck, but a wall of plant matter burst through the pavement blocking their path. “Makes sense, if I’m the only one who can stop her, she won’t let me go.” Vivi gritted her teeth. “Okay, Mystery how do I summon the blade?” “You must speak its name.” Mystery leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Vivi nodded. “Okay, big guy, can you support me? I need you to be my framework.”

“No problem.” Funny, though, it was usually Arthur who called him Big Guy. He leaned down, supporting her weight on his arms. He closed his hands around hers, steadying the bat she was holding like a sword. “Thanks,” she said, then shouted something in Japanese.

Lewis couldn’t understand it, but it apparently infuriated the tree lady, who abandoned her fight with his Mystery and his ghost, and made her charge towards them.

“Lunge forward when I say.” Vivi instructed. She gripped the bat tighter, causing Lewis to improve his grip around her.

Tree lady’s shears was uncomfortably close when Vivi shouted “Now!* along with something else in Japanese. The previously blunt bat glowed and extended into a blade, right through the enemies chest.

The monster looked shocked and horrified. She dropped her shears as the excess vegetation shriveled and died. The shears fell from her grasp as her body shrunk in on itself until there was nothing left but a twisted vaguely human shaped tree.

“Holy fuck.” Vivi whispered, staring at the tree.

Lewis’s Mystery collapsed in relief, shrinking back to a dog, while the future Mystery nuzzled Vivi. “You did amazing.”

“You have so much explaining to do buster.” Vivi breathed heavily. “But not now. We got to go through that tunnel and find Arthur.” “*ArThUr…”

Oh yeah. That. “Get over it!” Lewis snapped, forgetting what Mystery had told him about not antagonizing the wraith. You know the story of Father Wennel, Vivi told us ages ago even in my time. You know Arthur would never want to hurt me, especially not for as stupid a reason as that.” “Of COURSE I know about Father Wennel!” The wraith snapped back. “But he couldn't remember his death. I very clearly remember Arthur laughing as I fell to my death. And then having the nerve to ‘look’ for me as if he didn’t know what he’d done.” “He didn’t!” the older Mystery protested, drawing the attention of everyone there. “I changed my mind.” Vivi said shortly. “Start talking.”

The kitsune looked visibly uncomfortable. “It was my fault. I wasn’t fast enough. The demon in the cave took Arthur’s body for his own and killed Lewis before I could move. The only way I could get it out was taking his whole arm off.” Mystery was whining through the story, the memory clearly causing him pain.

That was a lot to unpack. Lewis glanced around. He couldn’t see Vivi clearly from the angle he was holding her at, but his own Mystery was looking clearly horrified and Lance looked shocked, but also angry at the kitsune (if Lewis had to guess, for being the one who dismembered his kid).

“That sounds too convenient.” The Wrath growled.

“That sounds the opposite of convenient,” Lewis shot back.

“Arthur pushed me!” The Wraith shouted. “He killed me with a smile! Why is everyone making excuses for him?”

“Why are you making excuses for it to be him?” Vivi met the wraith’s gaze with calm certainty. “I know who you are now and I know Arthur. And at one point you knew him too.” Vivi tilted her head up and looked at the Lewis holding her. “I’ve seen how far Arthur would go for you, he cares more for you than for himself. So why are you so determined for Arthur to be the villain in your story?”

“Because he is, why can’t you see that?” The golden locket thumped on his chest in a way that looked painful. From the cracks in it purple flames seemed to lick out from the inside.

She was gone. The demon let itself relax at last. It had been annoying for her to show up right as he had finally freed himself from that cave. He didn’t know if she had left or been slain, but he was leaning towards the former. Now he could come out of hiding and continue.

It wasn’t hard to find the kitsune. He was leaking power and nearer by than could be hoped. It skittered as fast as it could manage toward the beast. There. And what luck, he was damaged too. There were others, some mortals and the ghost of that one boy it had killed the last time it had almost claimed a host, but they were inconsequential. Mortals were powerless and such a newly formed ghost would hardly be better.

True, it’s own strength was diminished enough that it would need to kill the kitsune before it took him as a host, but for trapping it in this arm, it was more than willing.

There, it was distracted, Now was the time.

The Wraith’s attempts to cast doubt on Arthur’s character was interrupted by the older Mystery screaming as something green latched onto his throat. Five thin splotches of blood began to stain his fur.

“Mystery!” Vivi called out, trying to run to him, but having her knees buckle under her.

Lewis continued the charge, yanking the thing off Mystery’s next. Then he saw what he was holding and flung it away with a scream.

It was an arm, green but not with the color of rot. The nails had become black talons now liberally coated in Mystery’s blood and a single eye stared out hatefully from the palm. But the worst thing from Lewis’s perspective was the dirty worn wristband around it’s wrist. He knew that wristband, had bought it himself as a gift for his friend.

This was Arthur’s arm.

“There,” Older Mystery gasped. “..is your killer.”

“You…” The Wraith stared at the arm, and Lewis knew he must have recognized it the same way he did. “What are you going to do about it?” taunted the demon within, in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

And then there was fire. So much purple fire that Lewis pulled Lance and Vivi in close to try and protect them and both Mysterys stood protectively in front him. The flames devoured everything, rendering the arm into ashes as well as the demon inside. The tree that used to be a monster was unaffected, but the shriveled remains of vines and such went too. All the while the wraith screamed.

Soon there as nothing left to burn, but he continued screaming. His form flickered, first into Lewis’s face on the wraiths form, then as he was currently, and finally covered in blood with gaping gory holes in his torso and head. The screams changed too, from anger to fear and pain. The Locket was thumping like a heartbeat, with flames blasting out of it and shard flying off.

“He’s destroying himself,” The older Mystery realized. “He was formed from a hatred of Arthur and a desire to avenge himself. He’s done the latter and now knows Arthur is innocent of any wrongdoing. His power is turning itself inward.”

“That’s why he couldn’t believe Arthur was innocent.” the younger Mystery added. “His very existence depended on Arthur being guilty.” The two looked at each other then nodded and charged into the flames.

Lewis felt his heart jump into his throat and Vivi actually cried out, but the flames didn’t seem to touch either of them. Spells flowed simultaneously from both their mouths as they wove a sealing spell around the wraith. The flames vanished, leaving only silence and a badly damaged locket sitting still on the pavement.

#MSA #Ghost Writing #I'll Face Myself #Just as a note when Vivi says she knows him now she's referring to him being the person Arthur's looking for #Not that she actually rememebrs Lewis

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years ago

Note

Got any jeremwood ideas rattling around your brain? I've been craving battle buddies (lately, but also always), smooches ideally

You know, friend? I’ve had Battle Buddies in the back of my brain a lot recently and like nothing for them to do? But then in the shower this morning I had an Idea.

These two idiots working for their respective agencies or units and have the Worst Bosses whether through sheer incompetence or design. (Laziness or greed and not their problem if some asshole agents/operatives bit it on their watch. Hell, might be for the best if they do, if the WB is corrupt or working for the Enemy whoever that is.)

Ryan, well he’s in a Bad Place because some missions that Went Wrong and his name’s not worth much in their world anymore, right? Everyone thinks he’s either the worst kind of jinx with how many missions/operations go to shit when he’s around or he’s on the Enemy’s payroll. (Whoever that may be.)

Jeremy?

Young and stupid and got into some shit he shouldn’t have and it was this or jail and for whatever reason this seemed like the better deal. (Tell that to his scars or nightmares or shortened life-span whenever that shitball mission that gets him killed way before his time rolls around, though.)

They’re both stuck where they are and (more or less) resigned to it.

Ryan’s got Plans, though, on how to get out of his situation. Intel and Secrets he’s been gathering for years hoping to expose the people behind whatever gave him a bad reputation. (He spins it like that in his head sometimes, tries to make it about himself and not the others, the good people he’s known, who got killed by these assholes because otherwise he might abandon the long game he’s been playing for years and go in guns blazing. (OR the equivalent.)

Jeremy’s got an idea or two, but they keep reassigning him or the people he trusts to help him and he’s not sure what the safest way to do this is anymore. (Oh, he’s not worried for himself, but Matt and Trevor? Yeah. Big, big worries about those two assholes and how easy it would be for them to have “accidents” if he fucks up, so. Yeah.)

ANYWAY.

Their bosses have been working them hard for a few months (months, years, it all blurs together you know?) and they get some downtime before a Big Mission.

Conveniently (Plot Reasons) they’re in the same city at the time, because of course they are. Last stop coming back from a shitty mission to go to HQ to brief for the next shitty mission and their flight isn’t until the next day or something along those lines. (PLOT REASONS.)

Ryan gets a message telling him to meet a contact who might be able to help him with his own secret mission at a shady club somewhere. Jeremy – fuck.

He just wants a drink, and if he runs into someone to spend the night with that’s a bonus. (All this stress from the last however long and knowing he’s probably going to be dead by the end of the week, and why the fuck not, right?)

SO.

They both end up at the same club (PLOT REASONS) and Ryan’s contact never shows, so he just. Fuck, he’s already there and the diet soda’s flowing and just.

He doesn’t even know, is the thing.

Doesn’t want to go back to the shithole he’s been staying at because it’s bugged to high hell and it’s always entertaining to people watch. (Entertaining and keeps his skills sharp, two birds and all that.)

After a while he notices this one guy, right? Short as hell but there’s just something about him that makes you forget that – might be the fact he’s about to get into a fucking fight with some asshole hassling a couple of women. (Young, college age or thereabouts and looking around for the bouncer who’s been MIA for a while now.)

No one else seems willing to get involved, deescalate things or back the short fucker up, so Ryan tosses back the last of his drink (and fuck, fuck, don’t do that again because oh, God, the carbonation,) and goes over to help.

He doesn’t catch what the drunk asshole says – music’s too loud and there are people all over the fucking place – but he hears the short guy laugh. This bark, really, sounds like he’s heard the best damn joke ever – and hauls back and decks the drunk asshole without dropping that bright, friendly smile of his.

Fucking goes for it, you know? Perfect form and in the back of Ryan’s head he knows it’s weird to be hung up on that, but he’s too busy watching the short bastard turn to handle the drunk asshole’s friend to be bothered by that. (Also, making his way through the crowd to help, all “Pardon me,” and, “Passing through, don’t mind me, ladies,” and so on.

By the time he reaches the short bastard (of course it’s Jeremy) Jeremy’s taken care of two more assholes and all that’s left for Ryan to do is trip the last idiot running into the fight so he falls on his face and just kind of stays there, too drunk to realize what just happened and overall just dumb.

Jeremy’s got all this adrenaline running through him and turns to face Ryan, thinking he’s just another asshole (he’s not wrong on that one, but Ryan’s a different kind of asshole, so…) and Ryan gives him this dumb smile and holds his hands up.

“Whoa, hey,” he says, and he’s laughing a little because Jeremy looks like he’s about to go for his damn throat. “I was going to lend you a hand with these idiots, but it looks like you have everything under control.”

Jeremy stares at him because what? After a moment what Ryan says actually registers and he looks around at the drunk assholes picking themselves up off the ground (or helping their buddies who Jeremy knocked the fuck out) scurry off with their tails between their legs.

And then it’s mutual staring because Idiots, and the women Jeremy helped clear their throats and thank him before wandering off.

More staring?

Jeremy looking Ryan over like hey, okay, not bad on the eyes, and he doesn’t seem like an asshole? Meanwhile Ryan’s like oh, no because Jeremy’s also not hard on the eyes and it’s been a while for him and how do social interaction with someone who’s not a contact or target or WB?

Thankfully Jeremy is less of a human disaster (not by much, but it’s enough) and they wander off to a quiet table somewhere. Ryan gets another diet soda and Jeremy gets his drink and they chitchat for a while, Jeremy getting a wee bit tipsy and Ryan getting a wee bit more oh, no because Jeremy’s nice and funny and laughs at Ryan’s dumb jokes even though they’re both well aware how terrible they are?

And then!

Just when they’re about to maybe get around to the your place or mine bit of the conversation, they both notice some Shady Dealings going on.

Too well-trained not to notice, and Ryan’s like well, shit and makes up some lame excuse to go check on things, not knowing he beat Jeremy to it by mere seconds.

Ryan goes all Sekrit Agent/operative with the stealthily following/eavesdropping whatever while Jeremy does the same. (Due to Plot Reasons they don’t spot one another right away because Plot Reasons.)

The stalking continues long enough for them to realize some serious shit is going down – maybe ties into their respective missions, maybe not.

Shenanigans in which they lose the guy’s they’re tailing and round a corner to run into one another and don’t recognize one another at first, just think they’re baddies?

Some hand-to-hand Sekrit Agent fighty stuff until Ryan manages to pin Jeremy (height/weight advantage or something, and Jeremy’s still got that alcohol slowing his reflexes and just, yes) and then Ryan’s like - !!! because it’s the guy from the club?

Jeremy totally gave him a fake name – old habits and Ryan still doesn’t believe anyone would be so cruel to name their kid Rimmy Tim, but whatever.

ANYWAY.

Jeremy is likewise !!! because what are the odds, right? (Ryan also gave him a fake name, and no one names their kid Reggie or whatever, but the hell does he know?)

Some Suspicion because what are the odds, indeed. Also, their respective situations and career choice make trust a hard thing to earn and all that, but before they can get too deeply into the do they or don’t they of trusting one another the actual baddies find them.

Thought they were being followed and better check it out, and anyway, there’s the usual shootout/hide behind cover and snark back and forth before one of them gets a flesh wound and they manage to escape.

Go to some cheap motel – God knows wherever they’ve been staying isn’t safe or secure – bugged to hell and who the fuck knows what else – to patch one another up. Offer some truth – sekrit agent/operatives and (technically) on the same side and the baddies are definitely NOT on their side and too much Good Guys NOT to look into things even if they’re on their own?

And wouldn’t you know it, they both know where to get their hands on the weapons gear they’re going to need to deal with things in the city and it’s just.

The two of them working together – and totally flirting because there are no rules tonight, you know? They’re probably (definitely) going to get themselves killed doing this and no WB breathing down their necks and their next mission probably would have killed them anyway.

Super competent sekrit agent/operative stuff with the track jig down the baddies and finding out what they’re doing (weapons trades or national secrets, something blah, blah, blah,) and being all oh no, that’s hot when one of them shows their competence or does some cool sekrit agent/operative thing?

Also bantering and realizing that while this is the worst idea either of them has ever had, it’s also the most fun?

(Which is sad because wow, they’ve wasted a lot of their lives working for assholes, but whatever.)

Before they go in for the climactic fight or whatever, they’re like, fuck it and kiss because might as well at this point, right?

Probably going to die, and if they don’t it’s not going to hurt. (They were thinking about the whole one-night stand thing before the sekrit agent/operative shit happened, so yeah.)

Action scene like whoa in which there is shooting and yelling and (flesh wounds on Ryan and Jeremy’s part because I’m a sucker for those, sorry friend) and one of them being held at gunpoint, because of course they are.

The thing where their eyes meet and the one being held at gunpoint by the Head Baddy (Jeremy, it’s totally Jeremy) is all “Do it,” or “This isn’t your fault,” or something else the Good Guy always says in this situation? And Ryan starts to lower his gun because he can’t let the HB kill him?

And just when the HB is all gloaty mcgloaterson, Ryan whips out a throwing knife and gets him in the throat, saving Jeremy’s life and making the HB super dead.

The !!! moment of realizing wow, he’s not dead? And Ryan being like wow, it actually worked? Neat! And then the two of them staring at one another like what now?

Which, of course, is when the sekrit agents/operatives who have been watching HB and their cronies this whole time show up.

Geoff and his idiots and just. The fuck did you two do? (~Ruined months of work on Gavin and Michael’s part, since they’ve been working on getting HB and their people with the weapons trade/national secret thing and goddamn, what the fuck you two?)

Ryan and Jeremy being all ??? while Geoff’s people swarm the area and get shunted off to a little gray room somewhere for debriefing/interrogation thinking they’re really fucked this time? Sit there for hours and hours and hours. (Chitchat and banter and try not to think about what’s going to happen to them now.)

But of course not. (Because Plot Reasons.)

Geoff sweeps in with Jack and they have a nice chat about things.

The shit Ryan and Jeremy did with HB and their people, and their respective situations with their agencies/units and what do they say about working for Geoff instead?

“Uh,” and “What?”, and “Are you high?”

Because look.

No way their respective agencies/units are going to let them go knowing what they do, right? Shady as hell and corrupt and they’d rather see Ryan and Jeremy dead than let them tell anyone what’s been going on. (Have been trying for a while, actually, but they’re stubborn bastards.)

Geoff rolling his eyes and asking them if they’d like to work for him if he helped them take care of their respective agencies/units because he’s had his people looking into things since Ryan and Jeremy stumbled into their operation and the things they found, you know?

Still.

Best deal they’ve been offered – and who knows, they might live through it – so they say yes.

Geoff is delighted because he’s been meaning to deal with their agencies/units but hasn’t had the time with other shit going on. But with them on board it’ll go faster, or something?

Whatever.

Jeremy won’t do it unless Geoff gets Matt and Trevor out of his agency/unit – which he does because they’re useful bastards. (Also, like hell would he have left them there once he found out what was going on.)

Ryan’s own people (the ones still alive) were out of the line of fire before now, so he’s good to go.

Geoff (who doesn’t realize what he’s done, but when he does? ALL the regret) introduces them to Gavin and Michael and everyone else and it’s pretty much a disaster in the best way.

They get teamed up because everyone's impressed with what they managed to do and all that. Work together for a few months with the flirting and banter before they finally go on a date-thing?

Like.

Flirting’s easy, comes with the territory, but actual FEELINGs and whatnot are complicated and stupid hard. (...that’s what she said.)

Takes a close call to make them realize they’re wasting time better spent NOT being dumbasses (and maybe one of the others says as much) and then it’s some blurted invitation to coffee or burgers or whatever and this date...thing.

It gets ruined, of course, because enemies from their past pop up and shoot at them and then shenanigans? But they smooch somewhere in there and get other the awkward stage of being them and not knowing how to do FEELINGS and like. Save the day, but also smooch, idk, you know how these things go.

And then everyone makes fun of them for forever for not figuring their shit out before then, and also a lot of death-defying shenanigans and explosions and sekrit agent/operative fun-times???

#ragehappy #jeremwood #battle buddies #anon #prompt fills #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #sekrit agents aus #Anonymous

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marvxlousqueen · 5 years ago

Text

Warren Worthington- Bad Flirt

requested by anon: hi !! I love your warren imagine so much, i was wondering if you could write something where warren has to fight the reader but refuses to do it because she's his best friend/girlfriend, and he gets in trouble because of it ? (possibly with a happy ending 🥺) thank you !!

word count: 1.4 k

warnings: warren is a DICK, cussing, someone gets stabbed lmao but like it’s funny, also not proofread and lowkey shit lmaooo

A/N: so i had to change the request a little bit bc i didnt have any ideas for it but its similar ! also reader has an ice power ? i just saw a commercial for frozen 2 so yea that happened, also thanks for requesting !! ily

Warren was never the best with emotions. He believed it came from growing up in a love-less household, but maybe that’s just an excuse. After arriving at the school for mutants, Warren took a liking to a girl in his grade rather quickly.

Unsure of how to deal with this, he turned to his roommate Peter for advice.

“Make fun of her a little,” Peter had told him.

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Shows that you’re confident and have personality. It’s a way of flirting, trust me. Tease her a little.”

Warren wasn’t too sure about Peter’s advice, but figured he would know more than him.

Warren and (Y/n) shared three classes: history, biology, and their training sessions with Raven.

Warren took his time in history to test the waters of flirting, using Peter’s advice from the night before.

He was seated behind (Y/n) in history class, where he made a comment about her brightly colored agenda book.

“Nice agenda.”

She turned around, giving him a smile, “Thanks! Keeps me organized.”

Warren put his head down on his desk, realizing he hadn’t teased her enough.

Do I need to be meaner? What would Peter do?

Warren tried again in their 4th period class- biology. The first week was just spent discussing how mutations originated.

Warren was stuck sitting all the way in the front of the class, with (Y/n) seated diagonally from him.

As the teacher went around asking questions about students mutations, he waited for (Y/n) to answer so he could make a joke.

“Now, what about you, Ms. (Y/n),” the teacher said, standing in front of the board.

“I can make ice and snow. Pretty fun actually.”

Warren sat up straight in his seat. “Snow? What are you going to do? Scare the enemy with a snowman?”

It wasn’t the best joke, but it still managed to make most of the class laugh. He turned back, waiting to see her laughing, but (Y/n) had decided to bury her face in her textbook, waiting for her blush to go away.

She’s blushing! Girls blush when they like a guy! Atta boy!

Over the next few weeks of school, Warren continued to flirt make fun of (Y/n). He always made sure to tease her for not having weekend plans like some of her friends, or about grades and mutations.

It seemed to be working! Warren recalled the time he pushed her back inside the school before she had a chance to step outside into the August heat.

“Watch it, Frosty! You’ll melt.”

She had turned around to face him, her cheeks burning (with what Warren assumed was a crush).

“Thank you, Warren.”

Of course Warren hadn’t caught her sarcasm, leaving him to believe he was making good progress with her.

It had been about a week since that incident of the frosty the snowman joke, and Warren was only becoming bolder.

He wanted to make his final move after some last minute flirting in training.

When Warren entered the gym, he saw a few students stretching, (Y/n) standing with them.

A few minutes passed and Raven entered the gym, explaining how they were going to do mock cage fights, made up of two students having to randomly fight each other while others watch for technique.

“Any volunteers?”

The class was quiet, Warren’s brain busy trying to think of how he would tell (Y/n) about his feelings for her.

“Fine. I brought the hat.”

Raven waved around the baseball cap filled with names of slips of paper.

“Okay, up first is... (Y/n) and Warren. Hustle up!”

(Y/n) jumped up, hands already cold to the touch, ready to wipe the floor with that asshole.

Warren stayed seated, “What? No, I’m not fighting her.”

“No choice. Get up.”

Warren slowly stood up, “What if I hurt her?”

He truly was concerned about harming her accidentally (but he also figured he could throw in some flirting up until the fight).

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And also- I’d like to see you try.”

Warren laughed, thinking she was flirting back. “Fine. Let’s see how much you can hurt me with your snowflakes.”

Warren stepped unto the mat, across from (Y/n), the class watching from the sidelines. Raven gave them a countdown and they began.

Warren moved around the mat, flapping his wings out to full size in hopes of impressing her.

Since he was taking so long, (Y/n) threw the first blow, throwing a large shard of ice right at Warren, stabbing him in the shoulder.

“Fuck! Ow- SHIT!”

He crumbled to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder.

“(Y/n)!” Raven ran onto the mat, checking the damage. “Too far! Minor scrapes and bruises only!”

“But I-”

“No! Take him to the nurse, now!”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, staring at Warren, waiting for him to get up and follow her.

“Get up, it’s not that bad. Don’t be a pussy.”

Raven looked at her again, like she was about to smack her. “What is with this attitude? Do I need to run you until it’s gone?”

(Y/n) shook her head, sighing. She grabbed Warren’s other arm, pulling him up and dragging him towards the nurse. She didn’t drop his arm until they left the gym, afraid Raven might actually kill her.

“You- you CUT me!”

“Like you didn’t deserve it-”

Warren slowed his pace, eyes wide. “Deserve to be STABBED? What did I do to you?”

(Y/n) stopped her movements, looking him dead in the eye. “What did you do? You’ve been a dick to me since I met you! You make fun of me all the time and you’re just the worst! You deserved to get stabbed- you’ve been making my life hell for weeks.”

Warren felt as though his heart had stopped beating, “W-what?”

“You heard me.”

She turned around, walking faster towards the nurses room.

Warren wanted to stop her, to apologize for everything, but he felt so small in the moment. He never meant to cause her harm- is that not how you flirt? Peter, you dickwad!

They reached the nurse and (Y/n) stepped aside, letting him go inside alone.

“Are you not going to stay?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “No. Why would I do that?”

“You are the one who did this to me, so-”

“Fuck you, you wouldn’t stay if you did something like this to me. You’d probably just laugh about it.”

Warren felt his throat tighten, making it difficult to speak without his voice cracking.

“I w-would stay with you. A-always.”

(Y/n)’s face scrunched up, trying to read the emotion on his face. Somehow a mix of remorse and endearment.

“Whatever. I’ll sign you in, but then I’m going.”

He nodded, watching as she started to right his name on the sheet.

The nurse entered from the back room, “Nasty cut that is! We’ll get you taken care of.”

She looked towards (Y/n), handing her a towel. “Keep pressure on that. I’ll be back.”

“But wait-”

The nurse disappeared into the back room again, leaving (Y/n) to press a towel into Warren’s shoulder.

They sat in silence for a minute until Warren found his voice again.

“You didn’t even say sorry.”

“Did you say sorry for being an absolute twat to me this entire year?”

He wasn’t expecting her to snap back to harshly, not like he didn’t deserve it. Looking back on it, maybe he was mean.

Fuck me, he thought.

Another minute of silence passed.

“I am sorry, by the way. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

She looked towards him, “Then what did you think you were doing?”

“Um-uh, f-flirting?”

“What?”

“Peter said-”

“That is NOT flirting, Warren. That’s just being a dick!”

He hung his head, “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I swear, I’m not an asshole.”

“Sure, you’re not.”

He looked up at her, eyes burning. “I’ll leave you alone now, don’t worry. Once my shoulder heals I’m going to have to kill Peter for telling me that would work.”

She laughed a little, “Peter’s a fucking idiot.”

Warren nodded, “So am I.”

“Yep. You are.”

“C-can we start over? Please. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if it was actual flirting, not bullying- but fine. We can start over as friends, but I reserve the right to stab you anytime you hurt my feelings.”

“Deal.”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki @queen-turtle-boiii @hardlylo @ziggymay @jacqueline1916 @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @queen-baelin

hmu to be added :))

#Warren Worthington III #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #x men apocalypse #x men #warren worthington iii x reader

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soul-heart-and-beyond · 5 years ago

Note

♡ ( Rip to our bones)

Send me a ‘ ♡ ’ and i’ll talk about what type of relationship i could see our muses having

(I’ll just make a copy of this for Ludwig and John to put on their own respective blogs. Though I’m not certain all of them would meet or get to know each other.)

Launchpad + Dewey

A brotherly bond that would practically rival that of his with Huey and Louie. Though he knows that Launchpad likes to try and spend his time with everyone, he’s usually ready to throw down when it comes to any sort of gig the two might have planned. Whether it be binge watching stuff, reading comics, discussing about fictional stuff, some outside sports here and there, and the like! Launchpad’s like the older brother Dewey wanted, instead of the one that he got, but he still loves Huey too. He just vibes more with Launchpad. Together, you’ve got an unstoppable, unforgettable duo!

Falcon + Dewey

(Taking in some parts of their first meeting and today’s episode) Just like how Falcon wants nothing to do with Dewey, the same goes for him. It’s not really the stiff and tight beaked personality that Falcon has, but just for how the both of them were eventually risking the other’s life by dropping them off of a large building (probably a small skyscraper to be honest). The boy isn’t traumatized by that, he’s been through worse, but associating himself with someone who’s always looking for that money, and somehow keeps pairing himself up with Mark Beaks unknowingly is probably someone that’s good to avoid.

Flintheart + Dewey

“Oof, it’s that one weird old guy that keeps trying to kill my great uncle and is.... super obsessed with him.”, Dewey would say before veering his head away from looking at the other. He can respect Flintheart’s tenacity and perseverance, after all, he’s gone through some of the same problems about not being taken seriously or given what he wants even though he’s probably either earned it or it’s common courtesy. but what he can’t is the other’s want for vengeance. So what if Scrooge made Flintheart what he is? He should be thanking the guy and moving on with his life, do some stuff that can be good to others instead of nasty plots and schemes on how to take out the recently richest duck in the world. And Glomgold can try whatever scheme he’s got in store for him, but Dewey will just have to be extra careful on what’s really important.

Launchpad + Duckworth

Something that was definitely transparent but revealed to show more consistency than some other unlikely pairings. It probably wouldn’t be the case hadn’t Duckworth died, since that opened his mind more to possibilities, and probably his time in the Afterlife did make him lose some empathy for a bit. However, by interacting and learning more about Launchpad, he’s recovered some of what he lost, and learning to enjoy the things that he had and didn’t have before. That and something else blossomed between them. Whenever they might have been conversing with each other, he’s started to find himself somewhat liking the duck’s qualities, and some of his faults even. Normally that wouldn’t have happened before, but then again, he’s grateful for how Launchpad does put up with him when he isn’t feeling too optimistic. Now he prefers to spend time with the pilot and is able to have fun once again.

Falcon + Duckworth

They are pretty similar in some aspects, which would normally be something that would help draw some people together, but not these two. Duckworth definitely has the edge on giving out more quippy remarks that the falcon may not appreciate, and is more than willing to go into a back and forth session if the other wants to participate. Yet another part where they may diverge is how they deal with loyalty and trust. Duckworth’s more devoted to those that are willing to trust others, be honest with people, and he’ll gladly do what he can to defend those that need a hand. Falcon is more os someone who doesn’t share those interests and beliefs, which does put them at odds with each other as Duckworth might ask, “Where is your loyalty? Do not say that it is as transparent as me for I can solidify mine. You can follow suit.”

Flintheart + Duckworth

One of the most unlikely people to really interact with each other, especially after how Duckworth died by Flintheart’s plan, indirectly. He still doesn’t like the idea of trusting and letting the other go free with what he’s done, but he also won’t take out the duck’s life as revenge for that would just be giving in to his anger and hatred over the years. Something that should not be listened to as taking one’s life as payment for another’s should never be the first option. If he wants to be better and not stoop down to Flintheart’s level, he’ll just have to let the duck be until he messes with him and his family again. However, now that he’s getting a bit of fun out of this, maybe taunting Flintheart with his own voice and physique wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Launchpad + Fenton

“Is that really supposed to be some sort of joke? Because it’s not funny, Launchpad.” He really dislikes how Launchpad keeps trying to think of him as a robot, and he’ll keep trying to prove it to the other to get him to stop it. Fenton probably doesn’t know that it could be just mild teasing from how they first met, but it should make sense since Launchpad met him when he was Fenton first and Gizmoduck second. But, he does like it whenever they do veer away from that topic and talk more about mechanical things, and maybe a little more, considering that Fenton himself is a little bit of a superhero fan and has some stuff o his own to share with Launchpad. Though he may not like Darkwing Duck....

Falcon + Fenton

It’s certainly going to have some gray lines of tension here since their introduction is not going off on a good start. While he can commend the other’s dedication to their work, he can’t really defend or appreciate how Falcon likes to see everything so bluntly, black and white, but he’s somehow the only gray out of all of this. It’s selfish, bias, and more importantly, rude to other’s and how they could be able to change, but for Fenton, he just sees this as Falcon’s excuse to continue doing what he does. It might be something the professional tells himself to get away from facing the truth for the things that he’s done for his previous employers. It’s one thing to put the blame on others, but it’s another to try and separate yourself like you’re better than them but just do what you’re paid to do, and that’s what keeps them from having any really positive conversation. Sure, they can make fun of Mark all they want, but that isn’t going to make the problem between them go away.

Flintheart + Fenton

Flintheart would probably be the last person Fenton should really interact with, if not him then Mark, but given how he’s always willing to lend others a hand with his ideas or just be an overall nice person, something’s bound to go wrong. He hasn’t really gotten any instances where he could see Flintheart’s evilness and hatred on full display, and the faux funeral for Scrooge doesn’t really count since he only got to see Flintheart just do some disrespectful dancing. Besides that, he tries to believe that everyone, even Flintheart can change for the better too if they want to, like those anger management classes, and he’d be happy to help the rick mallard with that, but working for him might be something that he won’t allow. Given that Glomgold Industries probably doesn’t have that many appealing aspects to them and he rather not feel like he’s betraying Scrooge and Gyro after what happened with the Waddleduck incident.

Jim, Negaduck, Black Arts, Garbonzo, Brandon, and Rubber Chicken are down below:

Launchpad + Jim

Now who coulda saw this one coming?! A washed up star and his favorite number 1 fan that still remembers him upon the countless others that have forgotten him? You bet that Jim would love to get a taste of what it feels like to be a star again, even if it’s from one person. However, he can’t let that go to his head as this is practically the only one he’s got left that really cares, despite all the fainting. But, it might not hurt to have someone to bump heads with when it comes to returning to his role, for real this time...

Flintheart + Jim

While trying to give the real life Darkwing Duck gig a try, he finds that it’s definitely not as easy as it was on set, but that’s to be expected. Real life isn’t a game and neither is the battle between good and evil! Sure, he’d loved to be sponsored and given money by anyone that would fund a revival campaign of Darkwing Duck again, but he also cannot let the actions of Flitnheart Glomgold go unpunished. He doesn’t care how many times he’d have to put the duck in jail as long as it gets Flintheart to stop trying to be such a terrible member of society, and maybe not find out who he is in the process so he could get some of that good green moolah.

Launchpad + Negaduck

A reverse palette swapped Darkwing Duck that’s also sporting some different liberties taken on the iconic Darkwing Duck design? It might be a little odd, but it could be interesting that the guy chose a more striking set of colors compared to the cool and night patterned colors of the original. However, the black does help and oh wait, this guy’s going on about stuff that hasn’t happened here? What’s a Negaverse? Why does this guy sound like he knows him already? Ah, it’s just a weird Darkwing fanboy.

All of this is most likely going to get Launchpad put on Negaduck’s permanent to kill list, and he doesn’t care how long it takes, he’ll abuse and bruise the until he can get that satisfying moment, but it may take a while, and patience is not something Drake really has a lot of. Not for idiots in his book anyway.

Falcon + Negaduck

A well know Public Enemy in one universe and practically the ruler of his city in his own, up against some orderly goon that knows how to handle himself in a fight against many odds and situations? Negaduck may like the fact that Falcon can handle himself, but he’s not gonna like it when Falcon uses that to prevent him from doing whatever he wants. Hopefully Falcon can count those with unchecked rage again, as this condiment colored duck is another one of those with anger issues.

Flintheart + Negaduck

It would be Elegance in Violence, but for these two? Nah, just go wreck stuff up and don’t care about it. Drake can really admire the rich duck’s taste in senseless violence, but doesn’t like that he sets his sights on someone so low like Scrooge McDuck. What’s there to that has been that’s dangerous? He could probably take on the whole family with enough planning and resources, so why hasn’t Flintheart done that already? Another thing that might separate them is how that Flintheart isn’t as willing to go through with his plans unlike Negaduck. When Drake wants you gone, he’ll try to find a way and he doesn’t care how as long as it’s got class and you know he’s the one that killed you. He won’t cower, and even if he did, there’s usually a plan behind that.

Launchpad + Black Arts

It would seem pretty unlikely for Launchpad to try and befriend a Beagle Boy, most people wouldn’t given their family background and reputation, but Black Arts is happy to have someone outside of his family or his teacher to talk to. It gives him a chance to have a life, a mind outside of what his Ma wants for him, and while his teacher is cool, it’s always good to have more people to talk to to feel less isolated from the world. Sure, he’s got the internet to help him on that, but for face to face communication or interaction... not so much. Still, he like Launchpad and is willing to show him some magic someday!

Duckworth + Black Arts

It’d be really against his liking to let Duckworth get away with the embarrassment that happened the night he was summoned back by him, but he can’t help that for some reason, the ghost is apparently getting him to laugh, talk about stuff that normally he wouldn’t spill, and overall trying his hardest to ridicule him, but still treat him differently than the rest of his family. What, did the demon like him or something? And why did feel like he was having a good time with the butler? Maybe it’s probably because he didn’t have someone to fill that father figure role in his life...

Flintheart + Black Arts

Now this is probably his first real employer, but that might not last long once he knows more about Flintheart like from what his mother would tell him. Then again, he got a glimpse of that first hand at Scrooge’s birthday party. Black Arts is really iffy about this loose nut as while he’s loaded, the things he tries to do are far out of any sane person’s range of commitment, and he feels like he should do the same.

Launchpad + Garbonzo

While they haven’t met yet, Garbonzo would find Launchpad to be really an oddity of sorts for how sunny he can be, but still like that about him. Maybe not some of the more oafish parts, but then again, he can be clumsy too at times with himself or others. However, he’s wondering how Launchpad has been helping Black Arts in terms of creating friendships with other people, and even more interested in whatever magic is surrounding Launchpad. It’s not normal, and it doesn’t seem like there would be any good to come from it either.

Launchpad + Brandon

Now this is an annoyance for the buzzard as he would really want to try and stay away from the clumsy pilot. A sunny personality like his is nice, but that isn’t what someone like Brandon deserves, and he knows it. So, the best way for them to still be them is to stay away from each other, as the more and more that Launchpad might be around Brandon, the more and more Brandon will try to push him away. Hopefully bringing to light that not everyone will be your friend, or want to anyway.

Launchpad + Rubber Chicken

Whenever Clovis will meet Launchpad, either OG or a new DT17 reboot, it’s most likely going to be that one tough but simple minded goof with his thin and nimble worrisome ward. Well, Clovis isn’t really the ward type, but you get what I mean. He’s most likely going to open up Rubber Chicken to taking on new dangers if he can get past tackling the fear of them, and have someone to talk to for advice whenever he needs it as Clovis is a nervous wreck.

#airborne-disaster #(This... is gonna be a long one. I left a few others out because I'm not sure if they would really get a chance to meet.)#(That or their dynamics might be a little too hard to mesh together.)#(But I also added in new ones that might be interesting if given the chance.)#(Finally done with this long list. And now I shall rest into Flame Core listening to that sick ass guitar rift.)#(Or Iblis's theme; whichever one.)#Out Of Soul (ooc)#An Adventure's no Fun if There's no Challenge! (Dewey Duck)#Undying Loyalty with an Interest for the Drama. (Duckworth)#A Mallard That's More Than His Armor... (Fenton Crackshell/-Cabrera/Gizmoduck)#I am the Terror That Flaps in the Night! (Jim Starling/Classic Darkwing Duck)#There's a Reason why Positives and Negatives Don't Mix... (Negaduck)#There's More to Magic Than Just a Hat! (Garbonzo)#Illusionist of the Arcane Arts (Black Arts Beagle)#When the Ends Justify the Means... Even if Terrible Things Happen Along the Way (Brandon Buzzard)#Stretchy Superhero; Anxious Chicken (Rubber Chicken/Clovis Clackenhoff)#Launchpad McQuack (airborne-disaster)#Falcon Graves (unforeseen-disasters)#Flintheart Glomgold (unforeseen-disasters)#Duckworth (unforeseen-disasters)

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alaynes-writings · 6 years ago

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Fake relationship? - Part 1

Summary: To escape an uncomfortable situation with Thomas, the reader lies about being in a relationship with Alexander. When Alex finds out he suggests to play along and fake a relationship so Thomas would give up. But maybe things won't turn out as they were planned.

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x reader

Time period: modern

Word count: 2,194

Warnings: none

A/N: Most of you can probably guess, this is lowkey inspired by To all the boys I've loved before. Love to book (and the movie). This is going to have a few parts, I don't know how many yet, but let's just see how it goes. Anyways I hope you like it. Enjoy!

---

This was probably one of the most uncomfortable situations you ever had to experience. And you didn’t know how to get out of it.

“But why won’t you go out with me?”

Torn between staying polite and tell him to fuck off, you looked at Thomas Jefferson, who was obviously really confused that you rejected him.

You had known him for a while, you had some classes together and occasionally talked, but if you were honest you didn’t really like him. Maybe he was nice to you, but you knew that he treated a lot of other people very badly. So you had no interest in becoming friends or go on a date with him. When he asked to talk with you, you thought it might be about the history project or something, but he had lead you to an empty classroom and just asked if you wanted to go on a date with him. And now he just didn’t accept a no and since he was standing in the door you felt trapped.

“I just don’t want to, Thomas. Isn’t that enough?”, you asked and he huffed.

“I don’t believe you. Why wouldn’t you want to?”

You rolled your eyes. How could someone be so full of himself?

“Is it because you have a boyfriend I know nothing about?”

You sighed. You didn’t have a boyfriend, but if it would get you out of here, than you had one now. “Yes, you’re right. But it’s kinda a secret relationship. So don’t tell everyone.”, you admitted and Thomas grinned.

“So I was right. Who is it?”, he asked, but you shook your head. “I’m not telling you that.” You tried to get past him but he quickly blocked your way.

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know who I’m competing against.”

“It’s not a competition!”, you said, getting angry now. You tried to get past him again but now he completely blocked the door.

“Of course it is. Tell me. Is it that guy from english class? Or is it Layafette? Y’all seem to love him because he’s french. Or is it -”

“It’s Hamilton.”, you interrupted him and his eyes widened in shock. To be honest, you didn’t know why you just did that, but you knew Thomas hated Alex and it would anger him the most, if he thought you were going out with his enemy.

You used his shock to finally slip past him and mumbled a goodbye. Thankfully he didn’t follow you. On your way home, you started feeling guilty. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to mention Alex. You were friends, or at least you had been. Since kindergarten you were neighbours so you basically grew up together, but when high school started you didn’t hang out as much as you used to. You only hoped Thomas wouldn’t say anything and just forget about the whole thing.

---

A few hours later, you were laying in bed, trying to get your homework done when it knocked on your door.

“Come in.”, you said without looking up.

“You have a guest.”, you heard your fathers voice and as you looked up you saw him and Alex standing in the doorway. Your heart skipped a beat and you quickly sat up. This had to be a horrible coincidence. Surely Alex was just here to hang out.

Your father left and Alex closed the door behind him.

“Hey.”, you said, a bit unsure how to behave.

“Hey.” He seemed a bit uneasy too and sat down on the bed next to you.

“Um… I don’t really know how to start so I’m just gonna show you something.” he said and pulled out his cellphone. He handed it to you and your eyes widened in shock when you realized it was a chat with Thomas.

16:51 I honestly can’t believe it Hamilton. You and Y/N. But it’s gonna be over soon, when she realizes that I’m the better choice.

16:53 ???

16:55 Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. She told me about you today.

16:56 WTF Jefferson

16:59 Nervous because your secret is out? Don’t worry, soon you won’t have to hide anything anymore because your relationship will be over.

“Oh shit.”, you mumbled and handed the phone back to him.

“So you know what this nonsense is about?”, Alex asked and you nodded.

“That must sound very weird but today I told him that I am in a relationship with you.”

He raised an eyebrow and you quickly tried to explain.

“He was asking me out and I said no, but he didn’t let it go and I just kinda panicked and wanted to get rid of him. I didn’t think he would actually talk to you about this.”

“So you made up a fake relationship with me to get rid of Jefferson?”, he asked and you nodded. He was quiet for a moment before a grin spread on his face and he started laughing.

“That’s not funny you idiot!”, you exclaimed and hit his shoulder but he kept laughing.

“Not funny? It’s hilarious! I wish I could have seen his face!”

You groaned and let yourself fall back on the mattress. “What am I gonna do now? He will never leave me alone.”

Alex finally stopped laughing, but still seemed amused. “Well I never told him that it’s a lie. So just let him believe whatever he wants.”

“That’s not gonna work. He won’t give up, so he will find out soon that I lied. And then I’m back where I started.”

You sighed. Why did you said Alex was your boyfriend? You should have just pretended that it was some boy from another school he doesn’t know. But now it was too late and you had to find a way out of this.

“And what if we play along?”, Alex suddenly asked. You sat up again and raised your eyebrows, confused.

“What do you mean? You want us to pretend we’re a couple?”

“Why not.”, he shrugged. “Thomas will give up eventually. It’s only gonna be for a few weeks.”

“And what’s in for you?”, you asked, still not fully convinced. It was a stupid idea.

“Maybe I’m just a nice person who wants to help you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Because you’re so selfless.”

He laughed and stood up, moving to leave. “Let’s just say, I could find out if someone I like likes me too. Just think about it. You know where to find me.”

“So you have a crush on someone? Who?”, you asked, curious now. But he just grinned and left your room. So Alex liked someone. That was interesting. But still, it would be a stupid idea to pretend to be a couple. How long would it last? You would be busted after a few days. No, you would have to find another way to handle the situation with Thomas.

---

Unfortunately, Alex idea was stuck in your head. It was so ridiculous, but at the same time you wondered how it would be. Not that you liked Alex that way, but since yesterday you couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head. You also wondered why he had offered it in the first place. Just because it would help him find out if his crush liked him too? Was he trying to make her jealous?

“Hey there.”

You flinched and almost dropped your books at the sound of a familiar voice. You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed Thomas approaching. You had tried to avoid him the whole day, but it had been only a matter of time until you would run into him.

“Hey.”, you said, hurrying to close your locker.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”, Thomas asked with a smug grin and leaned against the lockers.

You sighed. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I told you I wouldn’t give up. Especially not when it’s Hamilton you’re going out with.”

Slowly you felt how anger was rising in you. Why couldn’t he just accept a no? What did you have to do to make it clear that you would never go out with him?

“Thomas listen -”, you started, trying to find the right words without shouting at him, when suddenly an arm went around your waist and you heard another familiar voice.

“There you are, I was looking for you. We wanted to go out for lunch, remember?”

You turned your head to look at Alex, who was now standing next to you, one arm around you.

He smiled as you tried to hide your shock, but Thomas was too busy getting angry at Alex arrival than to notice your confusion. What the hell was he thinking?

“Hamilton.” Jefferson glared at Alex, but he just ignored the undertone in his voice.

“Excuse us Jefferson. My girlfriend and I have plans.” he grabbed your hand and dragged you with him, leaving a very angry Thomas behind.

“What the fuck was that?”, you muttered when you were far enough away.

“You looked like you needed help, so I interfered.” Alex was still holding your hand and you felt like people were staring at you.

“Couldn’t you have interfered in another way? And where are you taking me?”

“It’s lunch break, I’m hungry.”, he simply answered and continued to drag you along.

He led you outside and you two sat down on a bench. You weren’t really angry at him, you knew he was only trying to help. But now it was even more complicated than before. How should you tell Thomas now? Maybe it would be really for the best if you just agreed to Alex plan and keep this charade going.

“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”, he suddenly said. He must have mistaken your silence for anger, so you quickly shook your head.

“I’m not mad Alex. Actually…. Actually I think we should try it.”

He grinned. “What changed your mind?”

“Well what do I have to loose now? Thomas is already fully convinced.”

“Alright.” Alex agreed and started eating his lunch. The topic seemed to be over for him.

“Don’t you think we should set up some rules?”, you asked. If you were really going to do this there needed to be some boundaries.

“What do you have in mind?”, he asked.

“Well… maybe something like that we shouldn’t tell anyone. And how we behave in school. Just general stuff.”

He nodded. “Okay how about you eat lunch with me and the boys at least twice a week and we’ll drive to school together every day. Oh and you have to go with me to Hercs parties.”

You frowned at the last point. “Why the parties? I don’t like stuff like that.”

“Not every single one. But it would be more convincing. Thomas is also there a lot.”

You sighed. “Fine, I’ll go with you to those parties. But you have to drive and promise not to leave me alone there.”

He held up a hand and grinned. “I swear I won’t leave you alone at a party.”

“You’re such an idiot.”, you muttered.

“We could also start studying together after school. And you could come to the debate classes, it’s only once a week.”

You nodded. It sounded like a real plan now. If everything worked out Thomas would finally leave you alone.

“You have a lot of ideas.”, you suddenly stated. You were to one who had suggested making rules, but Alex had now made most of them.

“Well, I guess I’m creative.” There his grin was again. He stood up and grabbed your hand.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

You walked back to the school and now you were definitely sure people were staring at you. It felt weird, but it didn’t seem to bother Alex. You both had English class now and Alex stopped at his locker to get his books.

“Are you okay?”, he asked. You hadn’t said a word since you had entered the school. “And why are you so red?”

“Everyone is staring.”, you muttered.

“Just ignore them. Soon there will be new gossip.” He closed his locker and entered the classroom with you. Normally you sat with Angelica or one of the other sisters but Alex led you to another table and sat down next to you. Angelica seemed confused and questioningly raised an eyebrow. You signed her that you would tell her later.

Alex plopped down on the chair next to you and put an arm around you.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”, you whispered.

“Are you uncomfortable?”, he asked seeming actually concerned so you quickly shook your head.

“No, just… not used to it I guess.”

“Good.” He was quiet for a moment before his grin appeared again and he leaned a bit closer to whisper. “Don’t worry I’m gonna kiss you suddenly or anything.”

You glared at him. “Don’t even think about it. You would regret it.” How could he switch so fast from being playful to being serious?

He laughed. “Seems like I have a really bossy girlfriend now.”

You huffed. What had you gotten yourself into?

#alexander hamilton x reader #alexander hamilton imagine #alexander hamilton fic #hamilton fic #hamilton imagine

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reignsrkive · 6 years ago

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𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡.

[𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩/𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲]

Jung Hoseok x female reader

Genre: Angst, Smut.

Word Count: 7k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, graphic gore, sexual descriptions.

Description: Bloodstained wings, bloodstained hands, and bloodstained memories. The triad of misery, infamy, and death. Little did they know that even if the two sides were considered polar opposites, they weren’t that much different after all. It was until the two met, the sharp edge of wood almost penetrating her heart, that the truth got out and keeping secrets wasn’t just a tactic anymore. It was vital.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ The wind flirted with her jet black hair, swaying between her short wavy locks that fell only a little past her heavy shoulders. Her hips moved along with her feet, her height not that great, but her dominance and confidence could be felt within even a bigger distance. Everyone’s eyes were always on her, wherever she passed from. People would look at her in admiration, infatuation but fear and hatred as well, as she came back from her missions to report to Azazer.

She gave people confident glares, reaching the area in which her uncle sat at this time of day- at night. She threw the man in all black that she held from his wrists in front of Azazer, the stranger already marked by her, blood dripping from his lips and under his eye from a cut she had made herself with her boot. “Angel. All yours” She replied harshly.

“Well, what do we have here?” Azazer stood up from his seat to inspect the wounded angel. He kneeled down in front of him and made him look at his eyes by tilting his head up with his index fingers, as his eyes turned a bright yellow, making the angel reveal its white wings. “Where did you find him?”

“He was inside. One of your incapable guards apparently didn’t notice a man in all black come in, sometime in the day. Maybe you should be careful who you assign jobs to. You’re already bad at your own job, at least hire people that will create a good image for you” You said, your tone cold and monotone as you felt no shame at the way you talked to your own relative. At the end of the day, he deserved it and it was nothing new to anyone, nothing the other demons didn’t know already. Nevertheless, in comparison to you, they felt too much fear to go against him.

You didn’t. There was nothing he could do to stop you. Sure, he could kill you just like he did to your parents for being “insurgents”. But he knew better than to ruin his legacy. You were that. After him, you would be the one to take his place. He knew nobody could do a better job than him, besides you. If he killed you, hell would literally become hell in all of its glory and anarchy would be the only word known between the demons, devils and every other demonic creature there was. “I found him ready to inject some kind of drug to one of your trusted- angels thinking that all of us dress in all black is ridiculous. Thought they were smarter than this”

“He was a spy” You added. “I got him to confess. So go ahead and kill him, just like you do to every one of the angels we find, instead of getting them to confess shit” You said ironically with a cold smile and watched him slaughter the spy with his sharp nails, cutting his throat with one swift move. The lifeless body fell to the ground with a thud and the white wings got stained with the crimson red blood, their whiteness getting less and less bright as the power they held faded away entirely. You turned around expressionless, ready to move on before he stopped you.

“Y/n,” He said. “Good job. You’re making me proud. Come to my office tomorrow morning. There’s something we need to talk about”

You rolled your eyes and walked away, your steps barely audible. You walked towards your den- as they liked to call them just for show-, which was a simple apartment. They did everything for show. You shook your head and noticed the presence of a taller figure walking beside you all of a sudden, but you felt at ease at him beside you. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble”

“So? What will he do? Torture me is all he can do or take away my rights- but he knows he can’t do that because it will be no use. He can torture me and mark me as much as he wants, I don’t give a shit” I shrugged. “He’s already marked my insides, the rest is nothing”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at your stubbornness and nudged your shoulder, trying to lighten up the mood and get the tension out of you. “You should get a boyfriend, a girlfriend, something. Hell, let it be a human. Again”

“You’re really going to bring that up? It’s not my fault they fall in love with me! And in my defense, he was hot. So was the girl I had to taunt a couple of months ago” You said with a small laugh as you opened the door to your apartment and let Yoongi inside before locking twice. “It’s just humans- they forget. You know they were just flings if I want a human I get deported and my power is taken away. The human life is not for me”

Yoongi laughed and nodded. “My girlfriend is great. I suggest you get someone to calm you down because I can’t be that person anymore”

“I don’t need anyone. I need to get Azazer to realize he’s ruining each and every one of our statutes, along with our moral values. This is why demons have been misunderstood and looked at as entirely evil. Our job is to keep the evil in the world at a level that it doesn’t get out of hand. We are assigned to taunt people and test them, to be their devils for a period of time in order to give them experiences that actually help them go on with their lives. But no- Azazer thinks just because the myths humans have written about us make us look evil and as lovers of death, we should be that. Just because he is a psychopath, doesn’t mean we all have to be” You ranted, completely in rage.

“Can’t we just kill him?” Yoongi groaned.

“We both know that if it was that simple, my parents would have done it already,” You said. “But sure, god forbid being actually fair. Sure- my dad shouldn’t have fallen in love with an angel, but she wasn’t an enemy. She actually wanted to help!”

“Hey, I need to go- Azazer has me on some new person tomorrow. We’ll talk? In the meantime, don’t burn anyone alive just because you’re mad” He said with an amused smile.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure, idiot. I can’t believe this is my best friend. Go get laid, we both know these are excuses”

“We gotta do what we gotta do to survive” He shrugged with a smirk and with a snap of his fingers, he disappeared from your apartment.

The air felt chillier than usual, tingles running down your spine as you got out of the scorching shower and let fresh clothes slip on your tan skin. You brushed your hair in the mirror, your blue eyes reflecting with a shine from your anger, a slight red hue to them from your raging emotions. For a single second, you spotted a small dot of light behind you, as if your eyes twitched and played games with you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but shook your head anyway.

The atmosphere seemed different than usual; even if your door and windows were locked just like always, there was some sort of energy emitting into the room that was both friendly and lethal at the same time. You scanned your bedroom, your eyes turning grey as you did so, but there was no sign of anything or anyone hidden around you. You gulped down some water, trying to forget it- It’s probably the built up rage that is tripping you out.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You barged into Azazer’s office as if it was no big deal, your audacity as big as your ego, but also your right to act as you wanted towards him. “What do you want now?”

He laughed lightly and gestured to his trusted assistant to leave the office, letting you have your peace- if there was any left. “Good morning to you too, dear niece”

“It’s future Mistress to you, but whatever floats your boat before you say your last words I guess” You faked a smile and it dropped immediately as soon as he laughed. “It’s funny to you?”

“Yes, it is actually. How a little girl like you thinks she can take me down. Ah, just like your father. I must admit my brother was capable and strong- though too emotionally driven. You on the other hand; you’re heartless. We all know by now, but you lack evil in you” He said.

You raised an eyebrow at him and clapped your hands together, making him start choking. He tried to breathe but failed as you applied pressure onto his throat. He reached out for his glass of water, but you clapped twice and made it stop. “Be careful who you underestimate Azazer. Now tell me who you need me to kill so that I don’t have to breathe the same filthy air as you”

“I want you to be sent into Heaven and-”

“Not a chance” You laughed before he could even finish his sentence.

“You’ll be sent to Heaven as a messenger from one of their departments from Earth. You will be sent as one of their trusted humans. All I want you to do is bring me Ion, alive and well” He said. “Since you believe you’re all mighty and brave, it should be easy for you. I’m giving you three days”

“You want me to act human? Seriously? If I’m going to go in, I’ll probably be monitored by someone” I said.

“Exactly. You know you’re the best for this job. So, be useful for once” He shrugged and sat down on his seat. “Three days. Chris will be with you”

You shook your head and groaned. “Fine. Three days you say? Three days it is” You got out of the office and walked to your apartment, well aware that Chris was walking behind you, monitoring every movement of yours, knowing he had to be cautious and report you the moment you do anything suspicious. You opened the door and got inside, turning around to him as soon as you closed it. “Have anything for me?”

“Clothes are on your bed,” He said firmly.

You knew for a fact that the moment you stepped inside to change, he would come with you since Azazer was that much of a dick- thinking you might pull an act in there alone. So you did, and the motherfucking creep kept eyeing you up and down. As soon as you were disguised, wearing all brighter colors of clothing, your makeup way different, just like your perfume, you started your way towards the gates, a long journey ahead.

You weren’t going to just sit in a car with this asshole, but you knew exactly how to take him down. As you were a few minutes away from reaching the gates, you cleared your throat and let out a flirty sigh. “Chris...”

“What?” He asked harshly.

“We should take a break before we go. I’m kind of nervous- in need of a distraction. You and I used to work together. Remember all those parties we had fun at too? You always wanted something from me, but I never gave it to you... Maybe I should give you a chance. You know, for courage” You said.

He raised an eyebrow and pulled over, turning around to look at you. “If this is your way of going against Azazer again I-”

You stopped him by having your hand sneak its way on his thigh and on his crotch, starting to stroke on it, your lips next to his ear, your hot breath fanning his face. “Oh come on... You’ve even told me once when you were drunk, that you wanted to fuck me so much I forget the dominance I put on as a show, right? Let’s see if it’s all an act, Chris. You know you want this”

He cursed under his breath and turned around to kiss you. You felt your body tense up at the awful feel of his dirty lips onto yours but had to do it anyway. You knew all of the high-class demons by heart and manipulating them was just a piece of cake. You pulled away from the kiss and kissed him behind his ear, making him moan from how you touched him, only to take all of that pleasure away in one move. Your teeth got sharper at your command and you opened your mouth, taking his ear in and biting it off entirely. The blood trickled down his head, some of it on your own clothes as he screamed in pain.

You opened the window and spat his ear to the ground, spitting the blood out as well, as you let your claws come out of your usual nail length. You forced them into his chest, piercing into his heart, the darkness in his eyes fading away fast. You took your hand out and cringed at the almost black color of his blood, in comparison to the crimson red hue of an angel’s. You took the water bottle from the middle of the car and cleaned your mouth, spitting the water out. You quickly got out of the car and snapped your fingers, knowing it now must be on fire in some dessert. You rolled your eyes at how easy it was for you to get what you wanted- maybe this was your chance to win.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You had changed into a better set of clothes as you had already passed your security check from the guards. You were quickly sent to the office of Ion, your target. Ion was just like Azazer. He was what Azazer was for Hell. A leader, a representative and he who decided how things happened. It was a fact that he was a way better one than Azazer, but from your countless missions, you knew that he wasn’t as good as everyone thought. Angels were always shown as good, as those who brought light, happiness, peace. The truth is, their white wings were in fact red. Stained from the blood they had shed of others, trying to get their way. They were just as manipulative as demons and devils, if not even more.

You smiled as a blonde secretary in a white dress took you to Ion, his stance dominant just like yours was. Nevertheless, you were careful at how much confidence you showed. You needed to show the good part of it, the part of it that would, in fact, show him he can trust you with whatever he thinks you are helping with down on earth. “Y/n,”

“Mr. Ion” You smiled back at him. “So great to finally be here with you. Was about time we met”

“Indeed. I’ve heard a lot of things about you” He said. “Since today is just bad timing and my day is busy, I’m going to skip everything that you already know and introduce you to your guide, that will be here with you. Hoseok, come on in” He said and his eyes focused behind you.

You never thought angels truly appeared like this. As if they emitted light into a room, as if their smile could charm you the moment you saw it and their eyes made you feel warm and secure. At the same time, something was bugging you at the back of your stomach, your gut screaming at you that there was something about him that felt off. “Ah, finally. This is the Y/N”

“And you must be my guide?” You asked, holding your hand out for him to shake. He smirked lightly and shook your hand, the feeling sending small sparks onto your skin.

“Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. Your personal angel in command” He said. “Ion, they are asking for you already. You should go, I’ve got it from here on”

Ion nodded before greeting you once more and the door behind him closed. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you turned around, pressure being put onto your chest. You looked down at your chest to see a piece of wood, its point sharp and lethal, being pressed against your heart, your white dress stained with a small dot of blood, that got bigger as more pressure was put onto it. You looked up at Hoseok, hissing in pain, feeling unable to use your powers. With his face inches away from you, his eyes sparkled in a way that you have never seen before in anyone.

“Now it’s just you and me”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You gritted your teeth and locked your jaw in place as Hoseok’s firm arm rested against your neck, blocking your airway partially, the stain of blood on your chest getting bigger as he kept applying pressure, just enough for it to hurt you. His eyes were a dark brown, so dark his irises were barely distinguished. You struggled to keep yours their normal ocean blue colour, trying to keep playing your human character. “Y/n... You think you’re really getting away with something like this?” “I don’t understand. Do I know you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure you’re trying to pierce through my heart” “Yet you’re showing no sign of pain,” He said. “You’re good at this, aren’t you? You fooled too many people already, but little do you know” “What exactly are you trying to say here, Hoseok?” “You think I wouldn’t know you? The y/n? I’m not just some angel, babe. I’m more than that. You know how you are one of the greatest in Hell? Consider me your equal in Heaven” He said. “I don’t-” “If you keep putting on the act of being human, save it for someone who will actually believe you. I’m sorry to tell you that that’s not me” He said, his voice harsh but smooth as honey at the same time. His voice brought the image of a soft hue of blue in your head- just like the colour of the morning sky, mixed with a deep fiery red- reminding you of the blood that trickled down the angel’s slaughtered neck that had intruded Heaven only yesterday, painting a purple forest of intricate flowers and broken pieces of wood, mixed with the smell of pain and blood in your own, already colourful mind. The silence lasted for mere seconds, but the way you focused on each other’s eyes, how your gazes were set trying to unravel all you were thinking of, made your skin tingle and a blaze of fire go through your body. “Who are you?” You asked. He smirked widely and all of the pressure was lifted off of your body, as he pulled away, taking the sharpened piece of wood out of your chest and making it disappear with one snap of the fingers. You gasped at the loss of the feeling and breathed out for air, your eyes never leaving him as he walked towards the chair of Ion’s desk, sitting down as if it was his. He crossed his legs and rested his arms on each side of the spinning chair, the smirk still present on his pink lips. “I am glad you finally asked. I know you’re smart, strikes me to see you get so stuck in front of me. Jung Hoseok. Angel. But also devil hunter. Specially assigned to monitor you. A high-class devil, going around and killing people, taking away their powers. Biting off ears?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“So you monitored all of my moves?” You raised an eyebrow back. “What did you expect me to do, bite his dick off? He’s like Azazer’s pet, he’d do anything he asked him to. I couldn’t come here on a mission and have him bothering me and possibly even making me fail it”

He chuckled a little and nodded. “Right. Maybe we should go somewhere more private to talk about our intentions”

“Our intentions?” You asked crossing your arms across your chest.

“You will understand as soon as I tell you. Don’t be impatient. You might be independent and dominant, but so am I” He said. “Let’s go. We’ll have to teleport, we can’t have you walking around with a blood-stained dress, or with that evil look in your eyes. Not everyone is as smart as I am, but you can’t even hide your lack of emotion”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ You looked around, knowing he has taken you to what seemed to be his apartment. It looked clean, but also very fun. Interesting. Besides how intriguing he seemed to you, his apartment felt warm, almost welcoming even to you. If these were going to be your last days here, you might as well make them count. You didn’t know what exactly his intentions were yet. “So are you going to tell me if you want to kill me or not?”

He let out a chuckle and walked to his kitchen, but you stayed there. “I’m not going to follow you”

“If you want to know, I advise you to come with me. Your choice” He said.

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms in front of your chest. You waited for him to come back with an annoyed expression on your face. You weren’t going to do as he told you, you would stand your ground and show him that you can fight back, whatever he wanted from you. He came back with a laugh and shook his head at you as he stood in front of you. his height hovering over you. “If that’s what you want”

“How long have you been stalking me for?” You asked him.

“The proper name is monitoring, but call it what you want. Not that long, but long enough to know your ways. You really are something else, aren’t you? People are not that wrong about how you are one of the most heartless devils there are. But somehow even if heartless, you spare lives and you’re fair. Strikes me. You’re just like your father. Your mother was more feeling dominated” He said, crossing his own arms in front of his chest.

“Do you really think you have the right to talk about my parents?” You asked him. “You want something from me. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, you wouldn’t have brought me here. Aren’t you breaking rules if you were assigned to kill me? You’re a devil hunter, you kill us”

“You weren’t assigned to me by a superior,” He said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I assigned you to myself. And you’re right, I do want something from you. I don’t like you but, you could be a lot of help”

“Good to know that feelings are mutual,” You said, coldly. “How could I help? You’re planning to kill Ion or something?”

“Not just Ion. Azazer too” He said.

You raised your eyebrows at him, thinking he was dumb to make thoughts like those and let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, good one Hoseok. Your expectations are really high, but I guess we can all dream. And who are you even to be able to do that and seek for my help?”

“I’m the leader of a very strong group of people,” He said. “Including some of yours. It might come off as a surprise, but most demons and devils hate Azazer’s guts. It’s the group your own parents had made”

“The what?” You asked, your lips parted. “My parents didn’t-”

“Your parents had a group. You were just too young for them to tell you. They assigned it to my family and my mother eventually gave the leadership to me, thinking I was fitting for the position more than she is. The group had died down and was forgotten until a few months ago when I brought it back. It’s going great, but we need more than just half of our populations combined to kill both of them. We need you” He looked into your eyes, waiting for a response at his words.

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “And what makes you think I believe all you said? You could be pulling all of that crap right out of your ass for all I know, and using my parents against me” You pointed out.

“Because you wouldn’t care if it was your parents’ plan or not. You hate both of them, you want them dead and you want to take Azazer’s place. I seek peace between us and for both of our jobs to be done properly. You seek justice. That goes well together, don’t you think?” He asked you.

“Sure they do. But do you have any plans? Because you act so mighty in front of me, do you actually know what it takes to kill a Hell Master? It’s not that simple. You literally need to take their heart out and burn it in the Golden Goblet” You said.

“I know” He nodded. “That’s why I need you to help me”

“You need me?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I do need you too. Not just the others. I might be strong, but having someone equally as strong beside me is vital. We both want to win. So why not just help me, y/n?” He asked, the distance between the two of you less than what you remembered it to be.

You looked up at him, keeping your stance as dominant as possible over his, which was overpowering. You felt it in your whole body, how powerful he was, how he could actually even manipulate you if you let him. “Fine. I’ll help you”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ “You can stay with me for these three days,” He said, walking to his kitchen again. This time, you followed behind. Without having to ask, he poured you a cold glass of water and offered it to you, leaving it on the table. “Ion wanted to get you a guest room in his mansion, but I didn’t trust that knowing you might agree to work with me. So I offered”

“I don’t need to stay here. You obviously hate my guts, so why have to deal with me more than just when we work together?” You asked him.

“I think I can take three days of you” He smirked. “I followed you around for many more than that. I know you by now, maybe better than your own best friend” He said, taking out things from his fridge. “Hungry?”

“Sure” You shrugged. “So what exactly do you know then? If you think so highly of yourself that you are knowledgeable of me”

“This Yoongi guy. What’s he to you?” He asked, his eyes not meeting yours for even a single second.

“What is that kind of information to you?” You asked him, intrigued.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “I might know a thing or two. I’m curious. I need to start liking you if we’re going to spend time together. It’s not going to be just these three days”

“It is going to be just these days. After we’re done, you and I go off to Hell and Heaven and never meet again. Simple” You said. “He’s just a special friend of mine”

“Special” He laughed lightly. “Fucking around with someone qualifies them as a special person in your life then?”

“It’s not just that. He was there and he stayed there, in comparison to other people in my life that were ungrateful. He never left and he’s still beside me. That makes him special. The rest doesn’t matter. It was all emotionless, just a getaway. So you have no right to judge that and question it to me. You’ve never just fucked around? I bet you’re the kind to have relationships, but I also bet you have been like that” You told him.

“I’m not judging you” He shook his head, as he cut tomatoes to make a simple pasta with homemade tomato sauce. “And I haven’t had many relationships anyway. Just two and only one mattered”

“Ongoing I suppose? Does your girlfriend support you?” You asked him.

“My girlfriend is dead,” He said, his words harsh and cold as if he just closed a door in your face and shut you off from his heart.

You sat on the counter next to him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “From what?”

“Killed. By one of yours” He said.

Your lips parted to speak, but there were no words that would be enough for him to make him like you. Although this had nothing to do with you, you felt as if he hated you for this exact reason. And somehow, a part of you wanted for him to at least find you tolerable if not pleasant. “Did she do anything?”

“Yeah,” He said. “She cheated on me on a mission in Hell. Isn’t that enough of a crime?” He laughed, his laugh dark and full of hurt. “But she failed her mission and got caught the moment she was going to steal some documents. She wasn’t exactly made for those kinds of missions. Or any missions. She was calm. Angelic in all of its meanings”

You bit your lip and got off the counter, feeling a wave of pressure and tension between your bodies and the atmosphere lingering in the air. “Would it be okay with you if I took a shower? I suppose my luggage is probably here already”

“Yeah, go ahead,” He said. “End of the hall. You’re going to be sleeping in my room. Probably one of greatest mistakes, but I might die in this plan anyway. So who’s it going to hurt if I let you in huh?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ The hot water run down your skin like the clear water that runs in rivers, between harsh and sharp rocks, giving it a gentle touch between the cruel reality. Your lips parted as you let your head fall back and the drops of refreshing and calming liquid caress your face. You took in steady breaths, the thoughts in your head trying to drive you insane. What was going to happen was big and maybe the person you chose to do it with wasn’t the best. You didn’t even know the guy, so why did you even agree? Why didn’t you give it time?

You couldn’t. The truth was that you had to do something now if you wanted to win and not be a slave of your own uncle for the rest of your life- and not only you but many more innocent devils and demons. If three days passed and you didn’t bring him Ion, he would have you executed for all you knew. Everyone always thought he would never kill you because you are useful to him. You are indeed a precious belonging for him, but he has changed to the worst. He has no mercy any longer, killing people in front of huge crowds with no concern over the younger ones.

The handle screeched a little as you turned it around to stop the water from running any longer and you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a clean white towel around your naked body, the cloth hugging your curves. You put on a new set of underwear and pants, pulling a tank top over your head, to hear rustling behind you. You turned around as you pulled it down and saw Hoseok leaning on the door frame, his legs crossed just like his arms, his eyes fixated on your figure and then your captivating blue eyes. “Did you need anything?” You asked him, taking a few steps towards him.

He shook his head and looked down at his feet for a second. “No” He replied, licking his lips. “Just... The food is ready if you want to eat”

“Okay...” You said, your bodies only a few inches away, something that happened so naturally that your brain didn’t even process it happened until now, that you felt the energy emit off of him “Are you sure it’s just that, Hoseok?” You asked, your voice low and steady.

“No,” He said again, the same tone in his voice. Low. Deep. Raspy. “Somehow... there’s more that I want, but it’s not words that I want to express”

You looked at his lips for a mere moment, as they looked perfect. Their shape was sculptured a way that made you lick your own. Big enough to make them look like small pink pillows. Glossy and smooth enough to make you want to get as much of a taste of them as you can. And the thing was, it wasn’t just his lips. It was everything he was from head to toe, inside and out even if you didn’t know it all. His nose, his glass like skin, his small but piercing eyes, his silky black hair. The way his body was perfectly aligned and all it got out to you. His energy wasn’t just calm and welcoming. It was so different and intriguing that you wanted all of it, all to yourself, even for a single time.

“Do you want something?” He asked.

“We all always have a desire” You simply replied. “And it’s never enough as soon as we make it happen. And it’s more than just one”

The next few movements happened so fast that you didn’t have the time to decide if you wanted them to happen in the first place. Hoseok took a few steps towards you, making you take a step back and the door was slammed closed by his foot as he took your arms and turned you around, pushing you up against it. His palm rested on your cheek as your foreheads rested onto one another’s and he looked at your lips, brushing his own against yours. “You must be desirable to a lot of people. Can’t say I blame them”

“Same goes to you, Angel boy” You smirked at him. “Bet you’ve committed as many crimes as I have with those looks”

“You have a lot of assumptions of me too, I see,” He said, his lips pulling up at one side. “You’re not going to force me off of you? Tell me to know my place, huh? I thought you were supposed to be a dominant person, future Hell Mistress”

“Hmm... I am. But I’m not going to do it” You said. “I don’t want to” You whispered in his ear, coming back down to look at his eyes.

He crashed his lips onto yours and they molded just like sea water kisses the golden sand smoothly, perfectly. Naturally. Like puzzle pieces fit together just right. You pulled away just to look at him and raised an eyebrow. “We just met. Maybe this is your technique to get me killed”

“Did just meeting someone ever stop you?” He asked.

“Valid” You shrugged and kissed him again.

As you tasted his lips again, a small gasp escaped your lips when he pulled away this time. “Aren’t you going to say that shit about how I’m an angel and you’re a devil and that’s forbidden? You’re a fucking royal devil, y/n”

“You think I care?” You asked. “Just give me what we both need”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

§ Two of the three days passed too quickly for your liking and the angst of the situation built up around you and Hoseok, minute by minute. What happened the first night, had kept you two at an edge the whole time you were a little too close to one another. You knew it. Just like you said at the mercy of his presence, desires- even if claimed- are never enough. You were greedy; greedy for more of him and how good he tasted. Not just how his lips tasted, or your lips on his skin, but how his soul tasted, being revealed right in front of your eyes and being given to you in a single night.

One day you didn’t even know him and the next it felt as if you could have known him from the moment he was born. Just like he felt with you. You stole glances the first chance you got and even if he caught you or you caught him, your eyes lingered on each other for more than enough seconds for many more thoughts to pop into your head and chills to take over your whole entire being.

The plan was set and so was everyone. Ion was first to be taken down, and you were more than sure it was the easier case. Hoseok could kill Ion with his eyes closed, he trusted him like the back of his hand. You were so surprised to see that almost the whole population of Heaven was on with the plan. Everyone else who wasn’t was captured, killed and made to disappear and forgotten. It was a secure plan and it happened quickly with no further demands or fuss.

This was the difference between Devils and Angels. Angels agreed and understood one another. They knew what was vital, what was enough and when they needed to stop. Devils, on the other hand, were greedy, egotistic creatures that wanted the best they could have no matter the cost. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a victim of that gene. Selfishly enough, in a time where everything was a life or death issue, your mind was set on what happened with Hoseok after this was hopefully over. You were greedy to get him to be beside you again, see him raw and uncensored and that was selfish- to distract yourself when you needed to protect the rights and the lives of your people, the people that trusted you.

Swift movements, barely audible steps, and loud whispers brought you to the moment you waited for, for as long as you remembered. You stood with Azazer in your hands, dark blood running down his hoarse skin as the slits in his neck were cut deep from your claws. The blood dripped down from your own hands and a laugh escaped Azazer’s mouth, his eyes tired but still as dead as he always looked inside. “What is it now, niece. You’re finally getting what you always wanted. Why are you holding back? I’m all your to see burn alive. Or have you finally changed your mind?”

Your lips parted and the sight of your parents being killed in front of your teenager eyes run through your mind, again and again, your own screams echoing in your ears. Everything stopped around you and your hands felt weak. Azazer taking advantage of your throbbing flashback balled his hands into fists and made a golden rope appear around Hoseok’s neck who was standing beside you, holding Azazer’s head down. Hoseok fell to the floor behind him, choking, trying to get a word out. “Y/n, d-do i-it,” He said, hissing in pain and coughing out small droplets of blood as his neck was crushed.

A yell escaped your mouth the same moment a tear fell down your tear duct, giving your hand the order to go through your own blood relative’s chest and take his heart out. You gasped as you saw the heartbeat in your palm, Azazer’s hand falling to the ground, the red in his eyes becoming a dull white and the colour of his skin being drained out by death. You took the heart and threw it in the Golden Goblet as soon as Hoseok was let to breathe and you cried out, seeing the organ burn to ashes.

You cried. For the first time in thirteen years, actual tears made your skin wet and sobs escaped your mouth as you covered it with your bloody hands.

The triad was completed, at that moment.

Bloodstained wings. The wings of both sides dripped in blood, the white and black feathers mixed together in the pool around Azazer’s blood. But of countless other innocents or criminals’ vital substance that used to flow in their veins, giving them extraordinary powers, rights, responsibilities and simply; life.

Bloodstained hands. The hands that were stained with red, deep or light, filling hearts and minds with guilt, pleasure, justice or sadness. Lives that were even taken with bare hands, just like this one.

Bloodstained memories. The memories of parents being slaughtered in front of a child’s eyes, its own uncle indifferent of the pain he caused. The memories of a loved one turning to a different person than the one they knew, and being caught in a lie and killed in front of him.

This might be the triad of misery, infamy, and death, but only as long as morals are set to the side. But if used with emotion and mercy, it can be the triad of peace.

Hoseok held you in his arms as you gasped for breath and his head rested on yours, his eyes closed. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over”

As you watched him walk off out of the gate of Hell to go serve his duty in his own world, he looked behind him and turned around, only to have you walk up to him again and kiss his lips, the taste familiar and at this point, a reminder of what home feels like. “Don’t you dare not come back to me”

“Or else?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Or I’ll kill you” You playfully hit his shoulder, letting him walk off. Walk off away when you actually needed him, but knew you had to do your own job. When were you going to see him again? He was an angel sent to you, just like what your mother was to your father. Their story ended in death and yours started with it. All you could do was hope it would continue soon and end completed.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

AU: I hope you guys enjoyed this concept. I got inspired from the season greetings 2019 photoshoot because the boys looked like angels. I needed a break from requests and felt the need to do something creative to spark my productivity. I really did enjoy writing this, it’s all yours now babes!

P.S. If this does good enough, I’ll write three additional parts. The plotting of how they took down the leaders, their pasts and the aftermath.

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 7 years ago

Text

Opposites Attract - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne Pairing(s): jondami (and also the bizarro boys?) Summary: If Boyzarro and Robzarro were the opposites of himself and Robin, and were already in love, did that mean he and Damian couldn’t be? A/N: I wrote this in an hour and should be sleeping. I regret nothing. Based, obviously, on the recent Bizarroverse arc in Superman. Also if you don’t believe Boy- and Robzarro are in love/dating then you’re absolutely wrong.

“So…”

Damian didn’t look up from Jon’s desk, or the homework he was doing for the both of them, simultaneously. “So what?”

“Did Maya brief you on the last mission?” Jon asked, dropping his arm off the side of his bed. Damian still didn’t look at him. “You know, with Bizarro and Htrae and all that?”

Damian hummed, and flipped the paper over. “She did.”

“So?”

Damian glanced up now, looking thoughtful and the tiniest bit impatient. “So what?”

“What do you think?”

“About what?!”

“All of it! Any of it!” Jon whined, flopping backwards. “Have you ever dealt with a Bizarro before? And not the one that hangs out with the Red Hood. What’s your take on it? What do you think of that Bizarro, or his planet, or Boyzarro and how he learns? I don’t know!”

He didn’t have to be looking at Damian to know he’d turned back to the desk. He could hear the pencil moving back across the papers. “You never want to know what I think of things. In fact, you often tell me to keep my opinions to myself.”

“Well, you weren’t at this mission, so now I do.” Jon countered. He felt like he sounded like mother, his tone full of sass. “But if you’re going to be difficult, then whatever.”

There was a moment of silence, then Damian snorted a laugh.

“From Maya’s story, the whole situation sounded very interesting. I’m sorry I missed it.” Damian explained. His pencil paused when Krypto came trotting into the room, and laid his head on Damian’s knee. “It sounds like, while the Bizarros are backwards, they are not without intelligence or ability to adapt. It also sounds like Boyzarro, as you called him, was very lucky to have found you. I’m glad he wasn’t left behind.”

“…What about Robzarro?” Jon asked, looking back down at his friend. Damian was sitting with his head turned slightly, petting Krypto between his ears. “What do you think of him?”

“A freak. I’d have punched him if I were present. Maya hates him, but fondly. She once said I was the brother she never had. I believe Robzarro is the brother she never wanted.” Damian grinned at his own barb. “Tiny is fine, though. Goliath appreciates the company. But for as annoying as Robzarro is, I suppose he is the opposite of me, much like the gloomy Boyzarro is opposite of your too pleasant self, and that’s par for the course.”

“I’m not too pleasant. I’m the normal amount of pleasant.” Jon pouted.

“Maybe by Kryptonian standards.” Damian smirked. “In case you forgot – you live on Earth.”

“Funny.” Jon drawled. “…You think Robzarro was Bat…zarro’s kid there too?”

“Well, if Boyzarro was still Bizarro’s son, then I don’t see why not.” Damian surmised.

“…He didn’t seem that concerned that his dad probably died, or that now he’s trapped on Earth for the time being.” Jon muttered.

“Well, opposites.” Damian said. “I care about my father, so maybe he didn’t care about his.” Then after a moment, “And from what Maya said, Robzarro’s main concerns were Tiny and Boyzarro. And flirting with her and everyone else around him, but I’m pretty sure she’s being overly dramatic about that.”

“…Opposites.” Jon repeated thoughtfully, and suddenly his stomach was tight. “Do you think…”

He trailed off. Damian waited for a few seconds. “Do I think what?”

Jon held his lips between his teeth, turned to look out the window.

“Do I think what, Jon?”

“Do you think Bizarros have to be opposite?” Jon whispered. “Like…I love my parents. But Boyzarro hated his. You’re logical, and Robzarro is emotional. Do you think if I started hating my parents, Boyzarro would suddenly love his? If you became emotional, Robzarro would be more logical?”

“Boyzarro didn’t hate his parents.” Damian corrected. “He hated how they acted. He didn’t hate them.”

“Still. You know what I mean.” Jon sighed. A bird landed on his windowsill. “Do we have to be opposites? Is that just how the universe has to work?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Damian decided. “Why are you asking that?”

“Just curious.” Jon closed his eyes. “…Boy and Robzarro are in a relationship.”

Damian didn’t answer.

“Like, a romantic one.” Jon clarified. “Robzarro wouldn’t stop kissing him when they found each other. I know he keeps flirting with Maya but…it’s pretty obvious he and Boyzarro are in love. Or…hate, or whatever they call it.”

There was no more movement of a pencil. And even without looking, Jon knew Krypto had laid down across the room. There was just silence. Not judgmental, not tense. Just quiet.

“So?” Damian asked gently.

“So…I mean, if they break up, or go back to just being friends, does that mean you and I would automatically have to date?” And then so soft, he barely heard himself. “If they stay in love does that mean you and I couldn’t be?”

Damian didn’t answer, and the minutes stretched. One, two, three. Jon didn’t realize he wasn’t breathing until he took in a too deep inhale. He tried to hold in his coughs, though. Nothing like coughing up a lung after inadvertently confessing the crush on your best friend, to your best friend.

And he was already embarrassed enough just by that simple fact. He was crushing on Damian. Had been for a while now.

Still, they went on four minutes, and Damian didn’t say anything. If Jon couldn’t hear his heartbeat, he might have guessed Damian left the room. So he just closed his eyes, and began wishing he didn’t open his big fat mouth in the first place.

Finally: “…You know the opposite of a friendship isn’t a romantic relationship, right?”

Jon’s eyes shot open. That…wasn’t the answer he expected.

“The opposite of a friendship is, well, an enemyship. That’s not even a word. Look what you’ve done to me, I’m making up words.” Damian sighed, like it truly bothered him. “But I mean – the opposite of love, regardless of the form, is hate. We don’t hate each other, and Robzarro and Boyzarro clearly don’t hate each other either. So it’s like you told the Boy yourself – we’re all the same.”

Jon thought about it for a moment.

“So the logic of your concern is invalid, therefore your fear is not real.” Damian explained. “So, if I were you, I wouldn’t stress about something that’s not real.”

Slowly, Jon rolled over, staring down at his friend. Damian was still sitting at his desk, their homework still spread across the surface. He was looking up at him though. Not emotionless, not really, but also not angry, or confused. Or…even surprised.

“Damian.” He said sternly. “Do you…do you understand what I just said?”

“Of course I do.” Damian snapped. “You’re the idiot here, not me.”

“Oh.” Jon breathed, and already, he could feel his face heating up in a blush. Knew Damian could see it, by his amused smirk. “And…you…?”

“You keep telling me to keep my opinions to myself.” Damian reminded cheekily. But there was a sparkle in his eye, and a warm smile melting onto his face that might have been humming reciprocation. “So that’s exactly what I’m going to do, for the time being.”

“Wha…but…” Jon sat up as Damian stood and turned towards the door. “Damian!”

“This is a conversation for a later date, for when you are more sure of what you feel, what you want, and what you want to do about it. As much as I’d like to help you, you are your own enemy in this situation, and there’s nothing I can do. Therefore, there is nothing to talk about.” Damian cut off. “Besides, I have both of our homework to finish. If you feel stuck, perhaps talk to my eldest brother about these types of things. Or your own father. Or maybe you should call Robzarro – I’m sure he’d love to assist you in the art of courtship.”

Jon covered his face with both hands, and groan in absolute mortification.

“But regardless. Don’t let the universe and its stupid so-called rules dictate what you do or do not do.” Damian offered, almost sweetly. Then a snort. “Heaves know I don’t.”

Jon chanced a peek through his fingers, to look down at his friend. At his…whatever Damian was, or might be, now.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go raid your fridge. I’m starving.” Damian declared, snapping his fingers to Krypto, who jumped to his side. But as he reached the doorway, he paused and turned back. “…And if you need somewhere to start, I’ve found that I enjoy venturing through parks encased in large urban areas.”

Jon could only gape and watch Damian sheepishly duck out of the room. Then felt a smile uncontrollably starting to spread across his cheeks. Quickly, he rolled over and shoved his face into his pillow to hide his giddy grin, while butterflies fluttered excitedly in his stomach. It was all he could do.

#jon kent #Damian Wayne #jondami

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hollamd · 7 years ago

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Love Me Back - Peter Parker

Summary: Y/N is Peter’s best friend and she’s in love with him (CLICHE I KNOW), however he’s in love with someone else.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2000 exactly!

A/N: This is kinda sucky not gonna lie, but we’ll see. I’m trying to improve on setting scenes and stuff. I think I’m decent at writing emotions, but not on describing them in detail… (also posting from mobile!!) ANYWAY I had fun writing the end and I hope you enjoy!!

The bell had just rung for first period was Peter walked up to you. “Hey Pete.”

“Hey Y/N. Did you hear about Liz?” His face lit up whenever he spoke about Liz, but you always ignored it. You were too focused on him in general; You were in love with the boy.

“No, did something happen?” You frowned

“Nah, she’s just having a party and she invited me, you, Ned and Michelle.”

“You know she doesn’t like to be called Michelle, it’s MJ now.”

“She’ll always be Michelle whether she likes it or not.” He said with a smirk on his face. You could feel your heart pounding and the butterflies in your stomach whenever you were with him. Everything Peter did could make you melt…

“I don’t think I’m gonna go to the party… It’s just-”

“Not your thing?” MJ interrupted. “Even I’m going, Y/N. You have to!” She leaned in to you. “Peter told me he’s gonna confess to Liz tonight, you have to!” You shook your head.

“Sorry Pete, I’ll have to think about it. MJ, we should get to French class.”

“Bye Y/N, Bye Michelle.” He emphasized Michelle, and she narrowed her eyes.

“It’s MJ!”

As you two got farther away from Peter, you began interrogating her. “How did you find this out… And why is he?”

“He told me after Liz invited us, and I’m not sure why exactly… But like I said before, you should go because it might be your last chance.”

“I hate parties.” You let out a sigh. Peter had been head over heels in love with Liz since seventh grade. It was annoying at first, but now it just hurt you, because you were head over heels in love with him. “However, if tonight’s the night then…”

“Yes! You’re finally gonna do it!” MJ almost yelled.

“Shhh, keep your voice down MJ.” You laughed.

You walked into Liz’s party wearing more make-up than normal, a tight black dress, and heels that really made your legs look nice. You obviously looked good on purpose; tonight was going to be your night. The loud atmosphere was suffocating and hot, which was reason number one why you hated parties. Flash Thompson was yelling “Penis Parker”, and you could see Peter with Ned in the corner. He looked annoyed with Flash, but then he locked eyes with you. Your heart fluttered, and you gave Peter a small wave. He was just starting to walk towards you when MJ appeared almost out of no-where.

“You came. I kinda wish I didn’t come now, though.” She looked around.

You leaned in and whispered, “Nice cock-block, Peter was just walking over to me!” You leaned over her shoulder to look for Peter. You had to tell him how you felt tonight, otherwise you might lose him to Liz.

“Why don’t we do something for awhile… Like, hide from all of these people?”

“Michelle, we’ll be fine!” You laughed. “But if-” You began, only to be interrupted…

“Damn Y/N, you look really good tonight!” Flash said towards you. He scanned your body and gave you a grin. He always hit on you at school, but right now was a new experience. “Do you think you wanna maybe dance with me tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at him. "I reject you at school, and I’ll reject you here too, Flash. No, please leave us alone…" Flash left you alone for the rest of the night, but you got some more attention from some asshole seniors. You thought it was funny how once you showed off your curves, they were suddenly interested in you.

You had lost MJ awhile back, so you were alone in a crowd of people. You were squeezing your way in between bodies when your arm was grabbed. It was Liz. She pulled you towards a group, which consisted of MJ, Ned, a guy from your English class, and Peter. When you joined the group, all eyes turned to you.

“Y/N, I was looking for you!” MJ said impatiently.

"Sorry, I got caught up with Flash again. He won’t leave me alone…”

Peter laughed. “Well if you hadn’t dressed like that-”

“Excuse me? God forbid I wanted to look nice, Peter.” He didn’t say anything to you after that. The conversation was carried on in the group, and you wish you’d paid attention to Liz and Peter… The way they looked at eachother you should’ve known something was up, but you were oblivious and the night continued on.

The group eventually dispersed, and you had gone to the bathroom to take a break. It’d been a long night, so you decided to leave. You were on your way out when someone outside caught your eye. It was Peter.

Cold licked at your face and crept under your clothes as you pushed open the glass door. You saw Peter looking up at the stars, and you contemplated for a moment if this moment could be anymore perfect. When the door behind you shut, Peter’s head snapped to you, and you could see the corners of his mouth slide upwards. The moonlight spilled onto his chest and shoulders.

You stepped towards Peter, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. This was going to be your moment, you just felt it. You stood next to him, watching as he stared at the stars. “The stars really are something, aren’t they?” He said, with his eyes still on the stars.

“Yes, they are. My mom always said stars were like angels, that they watch over you in the darkest of times.”

“That’s weird but cute…” His eyebrows furrowed.

You let out a small laugh. “My mom always was kind of a hippie… Oh, by the way, I didn’t appreciate what you said about my outfit earlier!” He frowned.

“What? It’s true. You can’t come here looking-”

“I can do whatever the hell I want! And I actually wanted to look good for once…” Your voice faltered.

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry. You do look really good if it makes you feel any better.” You could feel your cheeks turn pink, but you were thankful your blush was concealed by the darkness of the night.

“So, what are you doing out here? Isn’t it a little cold?” He spoke as he wrapped the jacket he was wearing a few seconds ago around you.

“As Elsa once said, ‘The cold never bothered me anyway.’” You said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “But I really don’t like parties. It was just too many people… And I was kind of looking for you.”

“Me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, it’s just…” You took in a sharp breath of the icy air. “This is really hard for me to admit, Pete, but I guess… I like you?"

“Y/N…” He began.

“You know, like-like? Okay that sounds really immature I guess the term would be love-” You were rambling before he interrupted you.

“I-I thought MJ or Liz would’ve told you by now…” Peter broke his gaze from you, looking at the ground now. His tone sounded sympathetic, and you felt your heart drop. You bit your lip trying to stop any tears, because now you knew he wasn’t going to tell you he loved you back. “Liz and I, we’ve kinda been a thing… But I guess now we’re official.”

Tears slowly poured out of your eyes as you shut them. “Yeah, of course… Well I’m sorry this is awkward. Now I feel like an idiot.” You could feel his eyes once again on you.

“Y/N, you shouldn’t… You’re an amazing girl and one of my best friends! Any guy would be lucky to have you!”

“Peter, just don’t. Don’t give me that speech. Fuck that.” You exhaled, and wiped your cheeks. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.“Do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about this. It’s extremely embarrassing. Goodbye, Peter.” You turned on your heel and began to walk away when he grabbed your wrist.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave. Liz and I were just gonna start a game of truth or dare!”

“Are you kidding me right now?” You looked up at him now, aware that your nose was probably red and your cheeks stained. “I just told you I love you and you want me to play games with you and your girlfriend? Don’t you realize how much this hurts me!” Peter stared back at you, not knowing what to say. “Peter… I don’t think we can really be friends anymore…”

“Come on, don’t say that… It’s been you and me since 6th grade.”

“That’s thing! It’s been you and me since 6th grade, and you’ve still never caught on that I like you, asshole!” You knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t love you back it was just a fact of life. “I’m sorry… Goodbye, Peter.” You turned on your heel, and started walking away when he grabbed your wrist. “

Y/N, I’m not gonna let you leave” You didn’t turn around, but instead squeezed your eyes shut and jerked your hand away. You peeled his jacket off of your shoulders, allowing it to fall on the ground. You weren’t going to stay here, you weren’t even going to go back into the house. You snuck out the side gate unnoticed, which you were thankful for.

On the dark and lonely walk home, you let the sobs escape and the tears to fall on the ground. You felt like your heart had just been stepped on, and you never would wish this type of heartbreak on your worst enemy.

The worst part of it all was you found away to blame yourself. Maybe if you’d been smarter or prettier like Liz, he would’ve looked at you more than a friend. Maybe if you’d admitted your feelings for him earlier, he would’ve felt the same way. Now it was too late, and felt as if you’d never fall in love again.

Your phone was buzzing and ringing non-stop in your purse, but you just ignored everything. You knew it was gonna be MJ and Peter, maybe even Ned. You got home an hour later with tear-stained cheeks, numb toes, and an aching heart. You took out your phone, and the screen was filled up with phone calls and text messages from Ned, MJ, Peter, and even Flash. Flash was just asking you out again, though.

You scrolled through some messages.

MJ💖: Hey, Peter told me what happened. Are you okay?

MJ💖: Let me know when you get home. I need to know you’re okay.

Pete😎: Y/N please pick up I need to talk to you

Pete😎: I’m sorry please You just scrolled past Peter’s messages.

You didn’t need him to break your heart anymore.

Ned👽: Y/N I’m really sorry about Peter. I hope we can still be friends!

Ned👽: MJ and I are really worried please text back as soon as you see this.

MJ💖: Y/N please tell me if you’re okay!!

You unlocked your phone and replied to MJ: I’m not really okay, but I’m home safe.

You went and sat down on your bed, and let the sobs rack your body. You’re parents were out of town for the week, and you were thankful for the solitude. An hour later, you were laying in bed in nothing but a big Star Wars shirt. Your cheeks were as wet as the pavement outside from the rain. You knew you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the window. You jumped out of bed in fear, because who’d tap on an apartment window three stories up at this ungodly hour? You quickly turned your light on to see a man in red and blue.

You slowly crept over to the window, and slid it up, allowing the frigid air into your room. You couldn’t believe the person before your eyes…

“Spider-Man?” You said almost in a whisper.

Masterlist

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #spiderman imagine

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lilyleely · 7 years ago

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In-Law (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: She loved him and she watched him go. In a fit of sorrow, she threw herself in the arms of a stranger, not expecting to land herself in the current situation.

Word Count: 2268

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you for your love thus far and thank you for taking your time to read this series!

PART 1

The breakfast was awkward for the female as she watched her sister and Sam intimately conversing with each other. What distracted her even more was the fact that Dean, her new brother, was brushing his foot against hers constantly. It caused her cheeks to bleed red, to which she tried to hide with her palm.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” Her eyes trailed over to Sam who seemed concerned by her growing red cheeks.

“Your face is flushed. Are you feeling sick?”

The red on her cheeks grew darker, “No, no! I’m fine. Perfect. Don’t you think it’s hot in here?”

“Must be your imagination. It’s pretty cold in here,” Dean chuckled darkly.

“I hope you aren’t sick,” her sister worried, a frown apparent on her face. “Her colds last forever.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that.” Sam smiled at Y/N, “Since we’re all finished eating, I’ll go pay so you can go sleep off that cold.”

She nodded, glancing away from the man as her blush stained her whole face. Inwardly, she was celebrating the fact he remembered a minisicule detail about her that she told him during their rendezvous at the cafe. It meant that he hadn’t forgotten about their time spent together years ago.

The giddy smile that broke on her face didn’t go unnoticed by the older Winchester as he fiercely glared at her with a disgusted look. She didn’t pay attention to him, keeping her gaze on her empty plate, waiting for her blush to die down.

“You guys go on ahead. We’ll meet up by the entrance,” her sister stated as she shooed them off. The two nodded and traveled outside.

Standing ten feet apart from each other, there was an awkward tension between them, but for different reasons unbeknownst to the both of them. Y/N, hoewever, wanted to get to the bottom of things.

“What the hell are you plotting?”

Dean’s eyebrow quirked up, “Excuse me?”

“What are you trying to do? You think it’s funny to embarrass me in front of your brother?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re ruining yourself on your own accord.”

“I know my feelings are none of your concern. Frankly, I could care less about you too, but for the sake of our siblings, we should try to make this work.”

“You don’t care for your sister. This is about you pleasing my brother.”

“...What?” She was beyond stunned by his words, rendering her speechless.

“It’s written all over your face. The only thing you care about is being a Winchester and getting down my brother’s pants, which is why you feel bitter by the fact your sister married my brother.”

“Well shit, you have me all figured out,” she snapped, sarcasm heavy in her words.

“I want to be a Winchester so bad, I’m pissing off the younger one!”

“You’re probably finding some excuse to whine to my brother to steal him away from your sister.”

The hand that connected with his cheek was as loud as a clap and everything around them fell silent. “You’re disgusting.”

His cold gaze locked with her hurt ones, causing his lips to press together in a tight line. He didn’t expect that reaction from her.

“Y/N, Sam wanted to ask you for a favor before you -Oh! What happened here?”

Her eyes averted away from her sister, “I’m leaving. Just drop me a text of what you need and I’ll do it.” Her voice wavered, and she quickly stalked away to the parking lot, leaving her sister in a confused state.

“Dean, your cheek is red. Did Y/N do something?”

Dean directed his attention to his sister-in-law and shrugged, “Don’t worry about it.”

Right on cue, Sam returned from paying the bill, his eyes instantly went straight to the hand-print mark on his brother’s cheek, “I suppose you finally got to know Y/N then.”

Dean exhaled loudly. He didn’t think he would meet such a troublesome girl, let alone, a messed up one like her. But the power behind her slap really peaked his interest.

“I don’t think I read the text right, but you want me to what?” Y/N asked her sister on the phone. She paced around the living room of her medium-sized apartment, dressed in an oversized shirt and elephant printed socks as part of her sleepwear.

“Please show Dean around the city, and where his office will be.”

Y/N grabbed and threw her purse several times onto the counter in anger, then stalking to her refrigerator to look at her calendar. She clicked her tongue at her availability, granted it was her day off from work. “Can’t Sam--”

“We’re family now, so we need the both of you to get along.”

We get along quite well in bed just so you know, she mentally said. Outside the bedroom? Not so much.

“Shouldn’t you take him? He is more of your brother-in-law than he is mine.”

“Y/N, it’s important to me that you get along with Dean. I’m happy you are friends with my husband, it really is great, but I need you to at least be on better terms with Dean.”

A sigh tore through her throat as she rubbed her temple with her free hand. There was still an ongoing debate in her head, but the gnawing feeling of hurt triumphed over her mind.

‘Her husband,’

Thos two words sliced her deeper than what the idiot older brother said.

“I understand Dean can be difficult. He’s just awfully protective of his younger brother, so having another person in their circle makes him more hostile,” her sister explained. “I’m not going to ask what happened between the both of you earlier today--”

“Okay, okay. Fine,” she groaned. “I’ll show him around.”

There was a sigh of relief from the other end. “Thank you, Y/N. I knew I can count on you!”

Glancing at her watch, she huffed in annoyance as the seconds ticked away. It was already past 10 in the morning and far too early for her to be up on her day off.

Unfortunately for her, Dean was still a no-show which further irritated the female. Being an event planner, it was all about promptness, molding this pet-peeve of tardiness in her.

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath as the hand landed on the 6. “10.30, and he--”

“Is here,” a familiar voice interrupted. Startled, she whipped her head to the side to see Dean smirking at her.

Wearing a black tshirt that clung onto his body nicely, a red plaid flannel over it, and dark blue jeans. This man was too handsome. He had the kind of face that stops you in your tracks. I guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way.

“I’m doing you a favor, and you’re late.”

The plastic bag he held onto was ushered into her hands, “I was told you like this.”

She sent him a suspicious glance, but the way he crossed his arms meant that he was unhappy about something. She pulled the bag open and peeked inside.

“I do like this type of snacks, but why are you giving me this”

He didn’t want to say anything, but her persistent silence refused to let it go.

“I was harsh on you last Monday.”

He wasn’t going to apologize, that much she was sure of. If she demanded an apology, she felt he would create another war between them both, which would undo the thoughtfulness of the present him. Plus, all she wanted to do was please her sister and Sam.

“Thanks for this,” she mumbled.

He shrugged, “Let’s get this over with.”

Shaking her head softly, Y/N guided Dean away from the plaza and into the subway. When they arrived at their destination, she pointed at one of the tallest buildings in the city, citing that this was his building. She refused to enter with him while he inspect his office and speak to the man he was taking over for.

It took less than an hour for him to return, all the while she waited patiently at a nearby fast food restaurant.

“Typical,” Dean muttered as he joined her in an isolated booth. He faced her with a scowl, arms crossed as he eased into the comfort of his seat.

“You didn’t enjoy your time with your boss?” the female hummed as she took a sip of her beverage. The remnants of her lunch were scattered around the table, evidence that she had eaten without him.

“You enjoyed your lonesome lunch?” he roterted.

Her eyebrows twitched, though she noticed his discomfort. “You must he angry that I ate a delicious burger while you had to endure with those business people.”

“For starters, that man is not my boss,” he corrected her, his hands reaching over to grab a fry, throwing it in his mouth.

“Secondly, I think you make a bad tour guide. You failed to feed me. No wonder your event company is so low-leveled. It has incompetent employees bringing it down.”

“Oh sure, go ahead, make fun of my job too. There’s a lot about me that can’t match up to the Winchester’s name, that I agree, but at least I have the decency to shut my mouth when I’ve crossed the line,” she replied acidly as she referred to what happened last week.

He remained silent, analyzing her angered expression.

“So you’re a person who owns three cats and loves her job.”

“...Is that an insult?” She cracked a smile, “That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say.”

“You’re laughing now?” He scoffed.

She attempted to stifle her laughter, but his words replayed in her mind.

“Cats? Freaking Cats? Here you were, insulting my family and me, and then pull that lame insult out of your ass? It’s hilarious!”

Her laughing was contagious, even to Dean. His narrowed eyes softened up as a small smile formed on his lips. “You’re weird. I bet you don’t have any friends.”

“And you’re very childish, also an asshole. You probably only have enemies,” she stated between giggles. “But at least I’m the best at my job.”

“Yeah right,” he chuckled as he glanced away. There was amoment of silence as Dean pondered over her statement.

“Hey, wanna test it out?”

“Test what?”

“How good you are at your job.”

Her eyebrows rose with interest. “Go on, I’m listenng.”

“The Winchester firm is celebrating the retirement of the man I’m taking over. I’ll recommend you to be the event planner. If you don’t fail, they’ll probably hire you as a permanent planner.”

“That sounds like the perfect challenge.”

“If you fail, which I’m 99% sure about, you’ll be left in the streets for sure and the Winchester family will ruin you.”

“...My brother is an asshole.”

“I’m not your brother.”

Their eyes met, and she could feel his heated state burning through her. The sexual tension proved they couldn’t consider each other as siblings even if their own siblings married each other. Not even that marriage could hold back the connection these two owned.

“It’s a deal then.”

His smirk grew, plagued with his permanent cockiness. However, she was ready to prove him wrong.

The next few days, Y/N anxiously waited any phone call from the Winchester company regarding her employment. She was completely wrapped up with the challenge that Dean proposed, she hadn’t noticed how large scale the party proved to be; she hadn’t realized that Dean’s position was so far up in the company ladder that they could in fact ruin her.

She only found out an hour upon her return from the excursion, googling the name of the retiring man. Apparently, he was third in command, and for Dean’s young age of 25, it was a huge accomplishment for him to be presiding over that job.

He wasn’t lying when he warned her how the Winchester company would ruin her if she happened to fail.

“Y/N, can you come to my office?” her bass called, gaining the attention of all the employees on the floor. The middle-aged woman signaled her over with two fingers with a stern gaze.

“We need to talk.”

That’s never a good sign.

Her heart sped up as she fumbled out of her work space, her feet hastily traveling towards the grand office her boss occupied.

“Y-yes?” She quietly closed the door behind her and sat in the chair across her boss’ table.

“I don’t know what, why or how, but we are going to be the event planners for an event hosted by the Winchesters.” Her eyebrows rose, intuitively guessing it was she that arranged this.

The marriage between her sister and Sam was no secret in the business world as it caught quite the attention; a no-name engineer marrying the soon to be CEO of Winchester Enterprise? Yeah, that was an eye-catcher.

“That’s great!”

“You definitely had something to do with this since they asked for you to be the head planner.”

“W-what?” Now that came as a shock to her.

She had expected Dean to request a more experienced person to be in charge, but it was apparent that he was taking this challenge far too seriously.

“I know you are more than capable, but you have never done an event this large scaled. This is an important company we want to impress, so I expect no mistakes. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?”

“I won’t let you down!” Y/N replied determinedly.

Challenge accepted, Dean Winchester.

Tag beans: @bradygabrielle-blog @lilypalmer1987 @formulafun @ihavesympathyforthedevil @thebikiniinspector @spnwoman

Dean/Jensen Beans: @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @tas898

Forever my mochis: @foreverrollpatrol @mogaruke

#Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #SPN Fanfic #SPN #Supernatural #fiction #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #lilytried #in-law

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