#and then ran to his giggling frien

[kamisden]

session 3!! honestly this week's session was an absolute fever dream for both video and irl reasons

also snailsona :3

[joedirtymadre]

You might as well make bothersome a series frien I needddd that part 3🥹🥹🥹

Bothersome - Part 3

LAW X READER! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS 👁️👅👁️)

“Law! Luffy!” You cried out. You watched as the two were thrown from Doflamingo. You were finally in the last battle, finally about to end this nightmare on Dressrosa. You watched as your ex-captain’s sword was tossed to the side. You were injured and struggled to move your aching body, but forced yourself to the sword. “I can make it, we’ll win this,” you whispered to yourself as you reached out to the weapon.

“Woman,” you heard a booming voice over you, causing you to freeze. You slowly turned back, seeing the large warlord loom over you. “You’re in the way,” he said as he picked you up by your hair. “Let go!” You yelled as you struggled.

“Don’t touch her!” Law yelled as he quickly stood up. “Or what? You guys are on your last breath, before you fall over dead,” he laughed as he tightened his grip on you. You screamed as he had you hanging in the air by your locks. “(Y/N)! Don’t hurt her, you bastard!” He cried out. “Huh? Don’t tell me you care about this girl,” Doflamingo cackled. “J-Just drop her, your fight is with me!” He replied.

“No, my fight is with everyone who opposes me. But now I’m interested… seems like you two are close,” he smirked as he placed a finger to your neck. You flinched, “DON’T!” Law screamed. “One move and it’s her life,” Doflamingo smirked. You watched as Law stayed frozen, as he watched you struggle helplessly. You slowly reached down your leg, and grabbed a small knife from your side pouch. “Now Law I’ll give you 10 seconds to stop all of this, if not then say goodbye to your girl,” he laughed.

“(Y/N)!” You heard Luffy’s voice yell. You noticed Doflamingo turned his attention to your captain. This is your chance. You quickly sliced at your locks, allowing you to fall to the floor. As soon as you hit the floor you ran towards the sword. “You bitch!” Doflamingo shouted. “Law!” You yelled as you kicked the sword with all your might towards him. You watched as he quickly caught it, “Thanks (Y/N)-ya,” he smirked. You smiled and began to escape from the battle-

You suddenly felt a piercing pain run through you. You grunted as you looked down to see a puncture wound through your stomach. “L-Law? Luffy?” You called out, before falling to the ground. Before falling you noticed the shocked looks on the captains’ faces. As your vision grew darker you heard distant shouting, before your vision finally went black.

…

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Can you hear me?” You heard a voice call out. You slowly opened your eyes, your eyes adjusting to Law looming over you. “Thank god, I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” he said as he pulled you into a tight hug. “Ow, ow… Law too tight,” you said softly. “Sorry, but I’m glad you’re ok, (Y/N)-ya,” he said softly. “Did we win?” You asked. He slowly nodded, “Yes! We did it!” You smiled and now it was your turn to pull him into a tight hug.

You quickly realized how awkward it is to hug your ex-boyfriend/captain. Making you pull away, you then turned your attention to your wound. You were covered in bandages and patches, “Did you patch me up?” Law nodded, “I wanted to make sure you would pull through,” he said. “Thank you,” you smiled. You slowly stood up, and noticed Luffy on the ground passed out. “I should take him to Chopper,” you said. “I’ll help you,” he replied.

The battle was finally over and everyone was patched up. Well… almost patched up. It’s still awkward between you and your ex-captain, just being around him makes you feel all sorts of ways… “God, what the heck is wrong with me?” You sighed to yourself as you sat by yourself on top of a building, viewing all the wreckage. “I don’t think anything is wrong with you,” you heard someone giggle as they approached you. You turned around to see Robin.

“Hey Robin, how’d you find me?” You asked. “Chopped mentioned you were going to go find a place to think. So I just scouted around until I saw you,” she explained as she sat next to you. “Ahh, so what’s up?” You asked. “Nothing much, just wanted to see how you’re doing. You lost a lot of blood,” she said. “I did? I’m not sure what happened after I blacked out,” you confessed. “Well… we don’t know the full story either, but I can take a guess that someone was extremely careful trying to patch you up,” she smiled.

“I see… hey Robin can I ask you something?” You asked as you faced her. “What is it?” She replied. “He really hurt me Robin, but he’s doing all these things and I don’t know… It reminds me of why I fell in love with him back then… but is it right to go back with someone who hurt me?” You asked. “That’s a tough question (Y/N)… on one hand, in your eyes he’s redeeming his past. On the other hand, you’re afraid that he’ll hurt you again. I guess… in the end it depends on you. Are you ready to try again? Can you 100% say that you’re prepared to be in a relationship with him again, and understand the possibilities that could occur?” She asked. “Ughhh… why is this all so complicated?! I wish I was a snail, a snail doesn’t have to worry or think about any of this,” you sighed.

Robin laughed, and slowly stood up. “It’s a tough decision, but it’s yours to make (Y/N),” she said. “Though it seems you might not have more time to contemplate,” she said as she walked away. “Huh?” You questioned, quickly turning around to see Law. Your eyes widened, “Oh… hi,” you said softly. “Hey (Y/N)-ya,” he replied as he walked over to you. You watched as he leaned on the half wall that you were sitting on.

“How are your injuries?” He asked. “Fine, just some pain here and there, but I can’t complain,” you smiled. “That’s good,” he said softly. You both stayed silent, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. More comforting, relaxing. “Law… do you still have feelings for me?” You asked abruptly. “I do,” he replied. “Why? I’m not special or anything,” you said. “I remember really liking your smile, it made me think of another person with a dumb smile…” he said softly. “Dumb smile? How romantic,” you laughed. “But then you would talk and it was even more nonsense, but it was cute… you would laugh and it would be over the dumbest joke ever,” he said softly, as you noticed a small smile on his face.

“Then what made you fall out of love, why did you say those words?” You asked. “To this day I still have no idea… and there’s nothing I can say to excuse it,” he sighed as he stared at the ground. “I ended up hurting the girl that used to make me feel something… And to this day I don’t know why…” he said. “I see,” you said softly. “I know my words can’t be forgotten, but you have to believe me. I still love you (Y/N),” he said as he turned towards you. You both stared into each other's eyes.

You quickly turned your head away, “Y-You’re right… I can’t forget. I’m scared that… that you’ll hurt me again, and that’s not fair to me,” you said. Law stayed silent. “It hurt having to abandon what I used to think was my home, and my friends and family. All because you had a bad day and decided to say something you didn’t mean,” you sighed frustratingly. “How do I know you won’t do it again?” You asked.

“I have no way to prove to you I’ll do better, but I do love you (Y/N). Just one more chance,” he pleaded, as you felt arms wrap around you from behind. “I… alright, I’ll give you one more chance,” you said softly, almost afraid he didn’t hear you.

You felt himself freeze up, “Do you mean it? Do you-“ you cut him off. “But I have some rules…” you said quickly. “Alright, I’m listening,” he said softly, as he held onto you. “I plan to stay with the Straw Hats… for now. I can’t just throw myself into this relationship, I-I don’t fully trust you yet,” you confessed. “I understand,” he replied. “I know what your true goal is from creating this alliance, until then… Until we finally accomplish the goal, you have that amount of time to build my trust back,” you explained. You sat there, biting your lip waiting for a response. “Alright, I can do that. If it means you’ll give me another chance,” he said.

You slowly turned to face him, and wrapped your arms around him. Feeling his arms wrap around you too. You both stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other. “Last chance Law, I’m serious. If you hurt me again you won’t ever see me again,” you said softly. “I won’t let that happen, I’ll prove it to you,” he said as he tightened his hug.

“When’s the last time you acted so lovey dovey?” You joked. “A long time… too long,” he said as he leaned down and softly pressed his lips onto yours. You tensed up, but slowly relaxed into the warmth.

“Ahem,” you both froze as you heard the cough. You quickly looked over to see Robin standing there. “Hi Robin,” you said shyly as you tried to pull yourself out of Law’s grasp, but with no luck. “Hello, you two. Getting comfortable I see,” she giggled. “Haha… yeah,” you laughed awkwardly as you continued trying to squeeze out. “I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Law smirked. You felt your cheeks heat up, and quickly stopped resisting. “Alright…” you blushed.

“Well I’ll leave you happy couple alone for now,” Robin smiled. “Bye Robin,” you waved. You then turned your attention back to the doctor with a frown. “What? I wasn’t done with you,” he said slyly. “H-Huh?” You asked, feeling your face explode. “I’ve missed that look,” he chuckled before pulling you into another kiss. This time you immediately melted into the kiss, excited but nervous about the future.

You wondered how this would end.

[ultralightpoe]

Music To My Ears - Steve Rogers

Authors Note: A draft from July 2023 -Enjoy!

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 4880

Requests: OPEN

Description: In which you and Steve are connected through music.

Main Master List -

(Thank you for the gif @prettyboy-parker )

x Enjoy! x

Songbirds: When soulmates can hear each others music.

It had always been a bit of a sore wound for Steve growing up, the lack of music in his head. It concerned him and tore him up inside whenever the conversation was brought up, which it so often was. 

His mother asked him about it everyday, excitement sparking in her eyes whenever Steve lied and said he heard a song. She would make sure to put it in the record player if they owned the vinyl, if not she would turn up the radio whenever it played. She always smiled and giggled at him, it gutted Steve to know he was lying to her. 

The doctor always said that soulmates often try to communicate through music, and tried to work with him to recognize a message, but Steve did not need it since he knew the person didn’t exist. 

He didn’t have a soulmate. The thought crushed him. 

Bucky often joked about it when Steve finally came clean, saying that his soulmate was probably deaf and that Steve had to have one. This made him feel a little better and a new image emerged, maybe if they were deaf the only way they can listen to music was through him. 

How could he deny his soulmate the taste of music?  

So he listened to anything and everything he could. 

He wore down vinyl after vinyl and when he wasn’t blaring the music he was humming it until he fell asleep. 

He hummed to himself before he lost Bucky, he hummed to himself the day the ship he was flying crashed. 

“If you’re real or you’re out there then I am so sorry for this.” He whispers, right as a loud crash sounds out and he is submerged within the depths of the water.

He would not be found for another 70 years, it would take 60 hours to dethaw him properly and stabilize his vitals. He would be asleep for another 6 days after that as doctors and nurses poured over his file over and over and over. 

But that wasn’t the weirdest thing, no. The weirdest thing happened the day a nurse ran through the halls, her face red and splotchy as she summoned the doctor who followed closely. She tried explaining as much as she could as the doctor read through his file once more. 

“This doesn’t make sense… it says he had a soulmate. He had confirmed it years ago.” The doctor mutters, reading the paragraph again. 

“Tests were different then, right. They weren’t as advanced as ours.” The nurse tries, moving closer to the man unfrozen. 

“I don’t get how this is possible….” The doctor mutters one more time as he blinks at the soldier. 

Because Steve Rogers, still asleep from his time in the ice, was humming the tune to a song that had come out that very year. 

(It’s 2012. I was imagining want u back by cher Lloyd but your music your choice birdies). 

- 

Growing up without any sound in your head while other kids were constantly bragging about theirs made you a bit angry growing up. The song time that your schools enforced, that you knew would never be sent to anyone else out there and made you grind your teeth in anger. 

The tests you submitted to monthly, as everyone did, always just made it worse. When they put the metal sticks on your forehead, typing away at their computer as the sound waves to your brain showed up on the screen. They would play music on your end to make sure that it was working, your side always lighting up a light blue color flowers blooming and spreading across the screen. Well they looked like flowers but you knew they weren’t. 

But when they turned off the music and did the ringing sound to try and signal your soulmate to answer back nothing came. Not a single thing came. 

The screen always remained blank. Each. Time. 

You learned to get used to it growing up, at some point the pain and anger ebbed into a phantom limb and you learned to move past. When your friends all found their mates you smiled and attended their weddings, always clapping when they danced to their first song that they found eachother with and sometimes if you were a little too into the drinks you let yourself imagine a life of your own. If you would have a deep song that you could slow dance to on your special night. 

But when reality came crashing down it was right back to misery and you always hated the sickening feeling of realization so you tried to fight off those little daydreams. The ups were not worth the downs. 

You listened to your own music, branched into hundreds of different genres and played the music so loud you could ignore the rest of the world. 

But you were still subjected to the tests, every single month. 

Like right now, with the metal readers strapped to your forehead as you sat back in the chair trying not to get agitated by the doctors pitying glance. 

“It is good to see you again dear.” He smiles, sliding his stool over to his computer and typing something in. “I look forward to your fun jokes every month.” 

“You mean my sarcastic wit that my mother says protects my feelings?” You bite out with a roll of your eyes, looking around the room. 

“Ah. Yes. That.” He chuckles. “Alright, you know the process. We’re going to play some music on your end, to make sure the system is working. Then we’ll play the ringing at a frequency to try and rouse your soulmate into playing something back.” 

“Just do it.” You snap, letting him press play on the music and turning to see the blue engulf the screen just as it always does. Then it stops and he plays a ringing, it makes your ears hurt as you close your eyes. 

Even when he turns it off you can still hear them, like a fire alarm. 

But once again. Nothing. 

“Alright. Thank you for coming in today. It was wonderful to see you.” Your doctor smiles, and you leave once again feeling that dreaded disappointment. 

But you don’t let it get to you, instead you head home and blast the loudest song you can when you make dinner in attempt to ignore the emptiness in your mind. 

Maybe if you had kept the music down you might have heard the smallest humming in the back of your mind, an old tune answering the ringing. 

- 

A week after they first hear humming they decide they would do the updated soulmate test on the captain with dozens of people that were alive back then strapped to their own testing machines to see if any answered back. 

“Alright. It’s all set up. Let’s take a step back and read the vitals.” Doctor Chen orders, making everyone step back as she heads to her computer. After typing a couple codes his brain waves fill the screen, and a moment later she starts playing music to make sure it works. 

Blue clouds fill the screen, blossoming quickly at the sound before she shuts the music down, and then a second later ringing sounds and his brain waves crash in displeasure, sliding down and a black filling the screen as they watch slowly. 

“Good reaction time for someone who had been frozen last week.” She murmurs which makes he nurse next to her laugh, but then after a moment it happens. 

The screen that had gone blank at the silence blossoms with blues and greens as whoever is on the other end plays him something back, everyone staring slack jawed at the screen. 

“Holy shit.” Someone murmurs. 

“His soulmate is still alive.” Chen smiles, watching the screen. 

- 

It happened during work, while you were sorting through files needed for the next meeting, Stark tower empty in this section. It would fill up soon, officials and your bosses would file in within the next 30 minutes and you would be thrown into the chaos of the day. 

So for now you were excited for the quiet of the building, breathing in as you set of the conference room with the correct lighting, water, pens and - 

The music was so faint you almost didn’t hear it, like a staticky connection that was close to breaking at the slightest notch. You drop everything you had been holding and nearly fall to the ground on shaky knees. Your breath falling into ragged pants. 

It takes a moment then it’s gone and you try to relax. It was just you. You’re tricking yourself. 

And so you pick yourself up, shaky hands and shaky knees as you wipe the tears that had somehow began falling, moving to pick up your mess before the ringing began and you fall once more. 

It’s the first time you had ever heard the ringing from their end and it hurt even more than you would have thought. 

It travels down your spine as it traps itself in your head, ringing and ringing and ringing. 

“Oh my god are you okay?” Someone calls, hands on your shoulders dragging your attention to the other assistant that worked alongside you. 

“Ringing.” You gasp, hands clenched into fists as it finally stops, black spots filling your vision. “It’s so loud.” 

“Yeah. It’s uncomfortable on the other end…. Have you never heard it before?” She laughs, moving to grab your phone, her face blanching when you shake your head. “Oh my god. You’ve never heard the ringing! That’s insane!” 

You’re confused when she hands you the phone, giving her an incredulous look before she explains. “You have to play music back. The ringing is a call.” 

“Right,” you nod, shaking as you grab your phone and pulling it close to pick a song, pressing anything random just to get it over with. You were too confused to process anything. You had never heard this, why now? How old was your soulmate? Oh my god was your soulmate super young? Were you a nasty cougar?

You were gonna vomit.

“I’m sorry, did you play Bee Gees back?” She laughs and you can’t stop a laugh from tearing from your own throat. 

Good luck to whoever was on the other end of that. 

- 

It was a one off, something you couldn’t explain. 

The doctors didn’t know how to explain it either, no one knew what to say about it. 

They all gave you pitying glances and odd looks that just made you hate it so much more. You hated the fact that it happened in the first place. 

A branch of hope on a dead tree, it didn’t belong there and you were desperate to tear it down. 

So, as punishment for yourself, you stopped listening to music entirely. Your headphones stayed on your desk collecting dust and your office at work played no music at all. You refused it. 

“Have you heard the new album?” Your friend calls out from her kitchen, you sat glumly on her couch clutching a glass of wine tightly in annoyance. 

“No. You already know I’m not-“ 

“Listening to music blah blah blah.” She laughs, carrying in a tray of food. “That’s so silly. Come on. You love this band and what happened was weird. But it hasn’t happened since. You’ve heard no other music. Just give in and listen to something.” 

“No. Stop pressuring me.”  You snap back, shaking your head. 

That night when you went to bed you grew more and more frustrated by the old music playing through your head, staticky and driving you nuts. After all this time you were finally going crazy. 

You stressed about a soulmate so much that you couldn’t help it. 

- 

Steve couldn’t hear the music and it was killing him. He could barely register his own limbs, his body cold and numb, itching to move his fingers. He just wanted to hear the voice that started waking him up in the first place. 

The wonderful, alluring voice, he was desperate for them to sing again. Hum. Anything. 

Give me something. Anything. Please. 

His fingers prick, the needle feeling passing through him as he tries his hardest to move them. Please please please please. 

“His vitals are peaking. He might be waking up.” A voice whispers. “Let’s get the room ready.” 

Please sing. Or hum. Or play something. Give me a reason to wake up. Please. 

Before he knows it there is a radio playing on his side, a game by the sounds of it, and he can’t seem to open his eyes. 

Then, louder than it normally was without the static sound, he hears the music in his mind. A soft violin sound, followed by a piano. It takes him a second to recognize the nutcracker, a smile breaking out as he did his best to open his eyes. For the person on the other end he would do this. 

His soulmate. He would wake up for his soulmate. 

-

“You can try to send messages.” Doctor Payne smiles, an actual excited smile for you. “Through the music. How long have you been hearing music now?” 

“3 weeks.” You answer, nodding numbly. “And it’s like full now, if that makes sense. It’s not staticky. I can actually hear it now.” 

“What have they been playing?” 

“Old music. Really old music.” You smile. “I’m hoping to god it’s not a kid. The older music is a good sign right?” 

You were back for your monthly visit, but this time you were excited. 

“Okay. Do you recognize any of the songs?” 

“Some. Not enough to get a message from it.” 

“Okay. Let’s see.” He moves to type in the codes and your brain waves fill the screen. This time you chose the music, something old, and you get a little nervous. 

“D-do we have to do the ringing? It’s louder on their end.” You mumble, body heating. “It hurts.” 

“It was your first time experiencing it. That probably made it worse.” 

“Yeah; but what about them? Won’t it hurt them as well?” 

“Let’s see.” He smiles softly, the music stops. One breath, followed by another, and then the ringing starts and you close your eyes feeling a little guilty. 

When it stops it’s silent, and you wait with shaky hands. And just when you think you’ve gone nuts and imagined it all, getting ready to bolt before Dr. Payne sends you to the loony bin. 

But the sounds of the nutcracker start playing, and a wide smile spreads across your face. 

The very song that you had played a while ago, the first song you listened to after your self inflicted punishment. 

“I hear it.” You smile, and your doctor laughs. 

“I can tell.” It’s then you look at the screen, seeing a mix of colors blooming along with the blue. Joy sparking in your chest at the new world. 

-

He had rooms in the tower, and a tutor to try and teach him all the updated tech. But the furthest he could get was a flip phone, and that already confused him enough, but he has a radio that plays all the classics for him. 

And he had whoever is on the other end of his mind, giving him enough music to listen to while he works out in the gym. 

Right now, his wonderful soulmate, was playing something he didn’t recognize but didn’t mind. His blood thrumming as he fixed his leather jacket while trying to figure out his way through the halls. 

“Dr. Chen!” He calls when he sees her, making the woman stare at him with wide eyes. “I was told you had done my soulmate testing? You were searching or something?” 

He tried to maintain eye contact and be as respectful as he could, but all he could do was nod his head to the music and tap his hand as Dr. Chen smiles smugly at him. 

“They playing music right now?” She asks, nodding her head for him to follow her as she makes her way through the halls. “What are they playing?” 

“S-something about… living on a prayer?” He smiles, following her into her office as she turns back with a wave of recognition. “You know it?” 

“Bon Jovi.” She nods, searching on her computer before turning to him. “The results from the nursing homes came back inconclusive. We tried reaching out to other clinics to see if anyone answered the call. They usually report it to their own doctors for a chance to narrow down the search so whoever you called definitely did not know what to do.” 

A wave of guilt fills him at that, making him fidget a bit in his seat as the song changes to another upbeat song. 

“Due to the progression of the music we do believe that you are connected to someone in their 20s to 30s.” A breath of relief falls from his lips that makes him feel even worse. He was just happy that his soulmate wasn’t waiting for him for 70 years. “The Taylor swift and Motley Crue mix clued us in on that one.” 

“Who?” 

“And the nickel back. There is no grandma out there listening to nickel back.” She laughs are her own joke, stopping short when she realizes he’s not laughing. 

“Should I be listening to them? Who are they? Is it one person? Nickel?” He rushes out, feeling a little nervous. “Do you think they hate my old style music?” 

“I have no idea on that one.” She laughs. “Take a breath. It will all be fine.” 

He goes to ask another question before a ringing breaks his concentration, his eyes drifting to the phone on her desk. She rushes to pick it up, mumbling out a response before hanging up. 

“They are sending someone down with some papers, but you can ask questions before she gets here.” 

“That would be great. What is Nickelback?” 

- 

You had been playing music in your office all day, with no response from your soulmate unfortunately. That didn’t matter though, because you were still high and giddy at the fact that you had a soulmate. 

But your little concert in your office was cut short when you were sent to hand off ‘top secret’ files to Dr. Chen. You found that everything in this place was top secret. 

Right now everyone was freaking out over some science project that you had heard a couple whispers about. Something with ice and a man. Not much to figure out but it’s not like you cared. 

You got this job by minding your own business.

And what did it matter anyways? You have a soulmate. 

The halls to Stark tower were easy to navigate, and you still were so out of it that you got a little lost towards the end before you found her office, knocking lightly. 

“Come in.” She answers and you swing the door, surprised to see a blonde haired man turning to you with big eyes. 

The blue of them makes you stop short, a blush crossing your body as you blink before a wave of guilt crashes over you. You had a soulmate and you’re here ogling at this guy? 

Come on. 

“Sorry to interrupt. You requested these?” You look away, turning to her instead and passing over the files. “Have a good one.” 

“Wait! Mr. Rogers here needs to go to the main levels but he might need help getting there. Think you can show him?” 

“No problem.” You shrug, nodding at him without making eye contact and waiting for him to get up before leading the way. 

- 

Steve follows you through the halls after you introduce yourself, feeling a little guilty at the blush that crosses him when you look at him. 

He had been so upset about not having a soulmate for the longest time, and now that he does he is getting flustered over the first beautiful gal he sees? Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. 

“So you’re new here?” You ask after a moment of silence, pulling your badge out to get clearance for the elevator. 

“Relatively.” He responds, trying not to make eye contact and keeping his voice short. He could not waste time flirting with everyone else when he had a soulmate out there. 

“Right.” You mumble, obviously a little put off by the shortness in his tone as the elevator opens and you are both enveloped in with the weird music. 

He wonders if his soulmate could hear it, feeling a little silly that they might think he was actually listening to this as you fiddle with your badge awkwardly. 

After a moment he breaks the silence, pointing to the speaker. “You think your soulmate hears this music?” 

Your eyes light up instantly, and you stand a little straighter. “Maybe. I hope they respond if they can. I love hearing their music back.” 

“Me too.” He agrees, feeling something loosen in his chest at the mention of soulmates. “I can only hope they like my music too.” 

“I’m sure they do. I’m always so desperate to hear them that I never really care about the music itself more of the fact that it’s playing.” You respond, nodding a bit when the elevator rings. “This is your stop,” 

He thanks you, moving to leave quickly. But the further his steps make from you he still hears the elevator music playing, confusion lacing him as his soulmates humming begins to the same elevator tune. 

He turns, down the hall, watching as the doors close with you humming inside. Recognition and sparks fly through him as he tries calling out, dashing to the door but it was too late and they were already closed. He tried to press the buttons but without an access badge it was useless. 

And in his lame attempt of morality he completely missed your name. 

Just his luck. 

- 

“You cannot be serious,” you laugh, rubbing your head in frustration as you try to sleep in a little longer. But it was no use, your soulmate was on a mission. 

For the past 3 days over the weekend all that had been playing in your head was elevator music, over and over and over. 

You assumed that whoever was on the other end took meal breaks because you got at least an hour each day of silence before they were back to it, the sound of it beginning to grate at your nerves. What had you done to deserve this abuse? This was truly incomprehensible. 

Anger fills you as you launch from bed, stressed from the lack of sleep and snatch your headphones, digging through your playlist until you find the heaviest rock music you can. Two can play that game soulmate. 

-

“Oh, good morning Mr. Rogers.” Dr. Chen smiles, her eyes bright with shock as she takes in his appearance. This reaction didn’t surprise him, it was the way everyone had been reacting as more and more people found out that Captain America was living in the building. 

But this reaction from Dr. Chen was a bit odd considering she knew him by now. “I’m a bit shocked that you are up this early.” 

“I usually spend time in the gym.” He rushes out, shrugging. “Can’t shake the military time- hey that person that dropped off the file the other day? Do you remember her- oh my.” 

Before he can finish his sentence loud music blasts in his ears, making him cringe a bit. “Oh.” 

“Are you okay?” She asks, reaching out to touch his shoulder. 

“Yeah. Just my soulmate playing music I’ve never heard. But enough about that, that girl that came in with the files? You know her?” 

“Yes! She’s worked here for awhile. Very nice. You liked her?” 

“Well I think she’s my soulmate.” He blushes before launching into the tale. 

She looks shocked and like she’s fighting off laughter when he stops. “You’ve been standing in the elevator all weekend? Listening to this music?” 

“Yes?” 

She laughs loudly before pulling him out of the elevator and walking him to her office. “I can guarantee you are about to have a very cranky soulmate.” 

- 

You were aggravated, thoroughly aggravated. At least the elevator music stopped but you had gotten no sleep. 

So as you marched to your office just to see multiple messages requesting you to Chens office immediately and you groan loudly, snatching the headphones out of your ears. 

Something had to have gone wrong with those files, and you were in no mood to get into trouble over it. Whatever stupid science project they had was beginning to grate on everyone and they were getting angry about it. You can pick up the tension easily. 

Your pass allows access to the halls, spine tense as you make your way to her office, knocking lightly before it opens and you see her and the man from the other day standing awkwardly. 

“Thank you for coming. It seems we’ve had a change of… situation.” She smiles before his hand shoots out to you and both of you jump back at the force of it. 

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m Steve.” He blushes, easing himself a bit and relaxing his hand for you to shake once more. 

“Rogers…. Your name is Steve Rogers.” You laugh. “How many times do you get asked about Captain America?” 

He blinks at you and Chen snorts. 

“I actually kind of know a Steven Grant. I haven’t met him in person but he works at a museum that we contact a lot and he’s actually so sweet.” You hush before stopping when you realize they are both staring at you. “Off topic. What’d you call me down here for?” 

“I think I’m your soulmate.” He blurts. 

“And this is actually Captain America.” 

Holy. Shit. 

- 

For lack of better words you scram. 

After years of begging the universe for a soulmate when you finally come face to face with the possibility of meeting your soulmate, what more was there to do but run? 

Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers thought he was your soulmate. 

You had so many questions. You had no clue where to run, so you stop short and turn back quickly, dashing back down the hall to run back to the office and you somehow run into him chest to chest sending you sprawling back on the ground. 

“Jesus! You brick wall!” You shriek, standing up quickly as he blinks at you with his own panicked look. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to run back!” He rushes out, hands shooting out grab your shoulders in an effort to stabilize you. “I… I have so many questions.” 

“Me too.” You blink, a moment of silence passing before you both blurt out a question at the same time. 

“What was with the elevator music?” 

“What music were you blasting this morning?” 

-

“Nope. No.” Steve calls from somewhere else in the house, pulling your attention to the stairs and waiting to hear him rush for you. 

Three years of marriage and you were still finding music he hated, right now that ended up being Cardi B. 

You hear his feet on the steps and wait patiently until he comes into the door with a scowl. “Why do you do this?” 

His eyebrows are pulled together in frustration as he shuffles closer to turn off the radio, looking around the room in his normal attempt to make sure everything is all safe. Just as he always had, checking every window and exit as a precaution before coming up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up to kiss your lips. 

“I liked that song.” You muffle against his lips, smiling cheekily which makes him sigh and pull back from the kiss. 

“I could have gone my whole life without knowing what WAP was.” He groans, setting you down with a quick kiss on your forehead before moving to your computer to change the song. You watch closely, moving closer to his desk as he glares down at yours, typing slowly before he hums at his choice. 

Even the smallest hum still sounds out in your mind, sending shivers down your spine before the sounds of cheesy elevator music sound out making you laugh. 

“No! Please no!” You call, rolling your eyes as he dances closer until he gets to you and lifts you onto his desk so he can slot himself between your thighs. 

“It was a great plan!” 

“No it wasn’t!” 

“I hoped you could recognize the music! I didn’t know your name and I had no access to the building!” He blushes. “I had to beg someone to let me onto the elevator every morning just to do it.” 

“You know how long I heard people whispering about you before I actually met you.” You laugh, rubbing at his shoulders. “Now I love you, but if I have to hear one more track of elevator music I will burn this building down.” 

He laughs, leaning to kiss you deeply before turning off the music and hauling you to your shared room. 

After so many years of waiting for your soulmate it all ended up being with it in the end.

[shortbcofkoffee]

Somewhere That's Green

Word Count: 912 | CW: Implied Child Abuse, Burns

Harley Quinn & Joker Jr | Joker/Harley Quinn

Ao3 Link

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Summary:

“Mama?” Junior tapped her knee, bringing her back to reality. Harley startled a little, earning a giggle from her little guy. “You just keep being a good boy, JJ.” She ran a thumb over his cheek. “I will, mama.” Harley kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go play with Bud and Lou, okay?”

-or-

Harley just wants to have a sense of normalcy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Harley, get him down,” Joker waved as he walked out of the room.

Harely perked up from her chair. “Alright, puddin’! Have a good rest!”

She hopped up and bounced over to the table JJ was restrained to. He was slumped, panting, and giggling through his breaths. Harley pouted at him and pressed the button to lower the table until it was even with the ground. She unsealed the metal restrains revealing the fresh burns under there.

She tsked. “Aw, JJ, sweetie.” She pulled her son up into a hug. “You are so good at making your daddy mad.”

JJ weakly hugged back. “M’ sorry, mama,” he giggled.

“You betta be. You’re such a good kid most of the time, these slip-ups are so sad.” She pulled away and held his tear-stained cheeks in her palms. His smile and eyes were wide, his face was pale. He was adorable. “Oh, I can’t stay mad at you, Sonny! You look just like your daddy, it’s too cute!”

She tugged at his cheeks. “I can see it now, my two boys runnin’ around, fightin’ the bat together, aw! It’s too damn sweet!” She hugged his head to her chest, swinging him around a little.

“Me and Daddy?” He asked excitedly. 

Harley nodded. “You just gotta stop actin’ up so much.” She looked at JJ’s wrist. A burn wrapped around it where the restraint had dug into his skin. It was nasty, his skin was peeling and red. There was a small twist in her stomach. “JJ, baby? Can mommy tell you a secret?”

Junior nodded.

“And you can’t tell Daddy, not yet.”

Junior’s eyes widened more than they already were. “Keep a secret from Daddy?”

Harley pursed her lips. “Yeah.. Just think of it as a surprise, we can’t tell him quite yet.”

Junior perked up. “Yeah! I love surprises!”

Harley tussled JJ’s hair and led him to the dining table. There was aloe vera in the fridge, good for cooling burns. She grabbed bandages too. “Good boy.” She sat with him, spreading the gel over his injuries. “You know I love our little family and our little house.”

“Mm-hm!”

Harley frowned a bit. “But I kinda want a real house. Ya’ know, a yard big enough for Bud and Lou, a finished kitchen full ‘a Tupperware. I want Mr. Jay to come home and hang up his coat, and I’d kiss ‘im on the cheek and ask about work. I could help you with homework and make you dinner. I’d wear poodle skirts, I’d curl my hair… Doesn’t that sound nice?”

JJ’s head tilted, he stared at her for a moment. “That doesn’t sound very funny.”

Harley chuckled. “You’re right, it’s not. But a girl can dream.” She finished wrapping her son's wounds in bandages and smiled at him. He couldn’t stop smiling, Harley knew how much that started to hurt. “But I guess it’s not necessary. I got all I could want here!” 

She gestured around the room at the fake house. Joker did this for her, the model house, keeping JJ. She knew part of this was just for Batman, but the parts that were for her gave her a little hope. Maybe after this, they could really settle down. Just Mr. and Mrs. Joker and their son Junior. Just a normal family from the suburbs. Not fighting, no pain, just love and laughter. Somewhere that’s green. She could have all of that, she was so close if any of this was proof. All she needed now was to stay on his good side, he was easier to convince when he was in a good mood.

Junior had told them about Bruce Wayne, and oh, was Harley jealous. Bruce Wayne got a break from being Batman; he got to have fun with his kids, at least until the Joker got to them. Being Harley Quinn was a full-time job; there were no breaks. She never got to keep friends, she couldn’t have family. She was happy The Bat decided to donate Junior, he really was the best thing to ever happen to her. It was her first taste of family in a long time, and she wouldn’t change anything. Her family felt almost complete. 

She could picture it now, mid-day on a Saturday, she’s cleaning the kitchen. She looked out the window and Joker was mowing the lawn. Junior sat in the TV room, Lou’s head on his lap while he leaned on Bud’s side. He fell asleep there after playing outside and she didn’t have it in her to move him. She’d wake him up for lunch though. But right now, she had to keep the kitchen clean. After church tomorrow some of the girls were coming over for book club.

“Mama?” Junior tapped her knee, bringing her back to reality.

Harley startled a little, earning a giggle from her little guy. “You just keep being a good boy, JJ.” She ran a thumb over his cheek.

“I will, mama.”

Harley kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go play with Bud and Lou, okay?”

Junior excitedly jumped out of his chair and pulled her up by the arm. She followed his lead to where their puppies slept. When she looked at him like this, he really looked happy. Bouncing and excited, just to be with his mama, just to play with the hyenas. It’d be okay for now, Harley decided. Once this Bat business was over, it’d all be okay. 

[rhettabbotts]

dancing in a snow globe - r. abbott x fem!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to find love in wyoming, but that all changes one night when you meet rhett at a mutual friend’s party.

a/n: this is for my sweet emmie’s @jostystyles 2.6k celebration!!! i love you bestie and i hope you enjoy this, congrats again on your followers. you deserve all of them and so much more <;3

warnings: just pure fluff, language and drinking, some smooching

w/c: 2.2k

this is based on the song you are in love by taylor swift.

“I want you to meet someone.”

You were sitting at brunch with your best friend, a weekend tradition you started in college and continued after you graduated. You were sipping on your mimosa when she dropped the ball. Your eyebrows shot up at the statement, humming around the rim of your glass.

“Please, I don’t think I can take another blind date. The last one was too painful, all he talked about was his ex.” You poked at the eggs left over on your plate. It was hard trying to date someone when you were still fairly new to town. You moved to Wyoming after graduation, needing a change of scenery. While your family was hesitant about you moving so far away, you couldn’t pass up the job offer you received.

“I think you’ll really like him,” she leaned in from across the table, lowering her voice as she spoke again, “he’s a cowboy.” She pulled away, smiling when she saw your eyes light up. “He’s friends with John, they’ve been buddies since high school. He just got back to town not too long ago.. I heard he went through a pretty rough breakup last year.” She went on and on about this mystery guy, telling you things she heard from her boyfriend, John. “He’s going to be at the party tonight.”

“Does this guy have a name?” You couldn’t lie, you were intrigued. He used to ride bulls before he got injured pretty badly a couple of years ago, left town with his then girlfriend, came back after his dad passed away and his ex left him.

“His name’s Rhett. Rhett Abbott. You’ve heard of the Abbott ranch, right?” You nodded as you chewed on your muffin, washing it down with another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I know which one you’re talking about. So he’ll be there?” You asked her, trying to not get your hopes up. You’ve had one too many failed dates recently, you think one more might put you off dating for good.

“Wear that black dress you bought a few months ago, it’s sexy,” she giggled as she placed her card down on the table. You rolled your eyes as you downed the champagne and orange juice.

You stood in front of your mirror a few hours later, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress. It was a satin material, hugging your figure in all the right places. The dress looked good on you, you just never had the opportunity to wear it. You touched up your lipstick and sent a text to your friend to let her know you were on your way. The party wasn’t very formal, and you were afraid you were a tad overdressed. Your stomach was in knots as you walked through the door, anxious to meet the infamous Rhett.

You had barely made it through the door when you tripped over the lifted lip of the rug that was on the floor, causing you to fall right into the arms of a stranger. Leave it to you to make a grand entrance.

“You alright there, ma’am?” You looked up to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Tendrils of hair fell down onto his forehead, his deep blue eyes staring back into yours. And that voice. Its timbre ran a shiver down your spine. It sounded so warm, a gruffness to it that made your palms sweat. You swore he could probably hear your heart racing.

“Oh good! I see you two have already met,” your friend declared, hand in hand with John. “Rhett, this is the friend I was telling you about!” Your face heated up immediately when you realized you were in the arms of Rhett Abbott. Your hands were still gripping onto his firm biceps. You prayed at that moment to every god and deity that the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You friend didn’t stick around long, moving to greet more guests that came through.

“I am so sorry,” you finally spoke up, your voice nearly leaving you. You found your footing and stepped away from him, his hands dropping from the hold they had on your waist. You took in the sight of him. He wore a pair of dark wash jeans and a simple black button up, the sleeves rolled to the elbows. My god, you thought to yourself, he looked like sin personified.

“It’s alright. It’s not every day I have a pretty woman throwing herself at me,” he smirked.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t.. I just tripped- the carpet,” you rambled on before you realized he was laughing slightly. A warm smile was spreading across his face.

“I’m just kidding, sweetheart. I’m glad I was there to catch you,” he shifted on his feet, sliding a hand through his hair. “I’m Rhett, well, I guess you already know that.” It was your turn to smile up at him. You introduced yourself and extended your hand for him to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rhett,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling that washed over your body as you felt his callused hand take yours.

“Likewise. You wanna grab-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence before your friend was grabbing you by the arm and pulling you away. You threw him an apologetic look over your shoulder, mouthing “later” to him.

You didn’t see much of Rhett throughout the night, you were both too busy mingling with different people. He was catching up with old friends and you were making new ones. You were listening intently to Lisa talk about her new plants that she just repotted when you looked to your left and saw him. Rhett was taking a swig of his beer when his eyes met yours, a look that says everything and nothing all at once. It lasted all of two seconds before you’re being pulled back into the conversation when someone uttered your name. You saw Rhett make a move towards the door, he looked back towards you, a silent invitation. You waited a few minutes before excusing yourself, following after Rhett.

He was propped against the wall, taking a drag off a cigarette. His face lit up when he saw you, standing up straighter and pushing away from the wall.

“Hi. You gonna fall into my arms, again?” There that smirk was once more. You couldn’t deny that it made your insides twist and turn in the most delicious way. God, he was so handsome.

“Only if you’ll catch me again,” you joked. You made small talk as he finished his cigarette, telling him about why you moved to Wyoming and how you ended up in Wabang of all places. He talked about how he met John and how your friend never stopped talking about you when she was around.

“You wanna go grab some coffee?” Rhett asked, kicking at a rock that was at his feet. His hands were shoved into his pockets. “The diner down the road has the best coffee and ap-“

“Apple pie,” you finished his sentence, grinning at him. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You hesitated in your answer, not wanting to sound too eager. “I’d love to get a cup of coffee.” He walked you to his truck, opening the door for you. You talked the entire drive to the diner. You both got coffee and shared a piece of the apple pie. You stayed until Mrs. Mabel, the diner owner, was closing up shop for the night.

You stood outside the diner, not wanting the night to end. When there was a lull in the conversation, you fell into comfortable silence, walking down the street back to his truck.

“Hey, look up,” he said quietly, stopping on the sidewalk. You did as he said and the sight took your breath away. The sky was clear, the stars on full display. They sparkled like little diamonds, flickering like fireflies. You stood close to Rhett, shoulders brushing and hips knocking into each other. You looked to him, his face still turned upwards and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. The soft glow from the street light enveloped him, and you took your time examining his side profile. You noticed a small scar at the edge of his jaw, barely noticeable under his stubble. Your fingers itched to trace it.

You never believed in love at first sight. Hell, you were close to giving up on love in general, but there was something simmering inside you as you looked at Rhett staring up at the stars. A feeling that wrapped its way around your heart and squeezed tightly. He looked down at you eventually, smiling that smile you were growing extremely fond of.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. You prolonged your goodbyes, neither of you wanting the night to end. You exchanged numbers and soft smiles before you got out of the truck. He watched until you got the door unlocked and waved at him to let him know you were okay. As he drove off, you shut the door, pressing your back against it and sliding down slightly. You felt giddy, a smile taking up permanent residence on your face. Rhett texted you when he made it home. Not too long after, another message came through.

“Would you like to go on a date next weekend?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cursed as you pulled the burnt toast from the toaster, nearly burning your fingertips in the process. “Damn it.”

“Well, that’s a sight a man could get used to,” Rhett said from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He was propped against the entryway to the kitchen, pajama pants slung low on his waist. His eyes raked over your body, letting out a low whistle that caused you to turn away shyly. You were wearing just his flannel and your panties, foregoing pants since you knew you’d end up back in bed if Rhett had anything to say about it.

You had been dating for a few months now, spending nearly all of your free time together. You couldn’t get enough of each other, never running out of things to talk about. He listened to you complain about your office drama, getting so invested in who’s having an affair with who. You knew you were in the honeymoon phase but you loved every second of it. You had never felt this way about someone before. You were able to be yourself totally and completely. You didn’t have to hide your darkest parts from Rhett, nor did he have to hide his from you. You understood each other in a way no one else could.

He pushed off from the doorframe and made his way to you, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close. He placed a kiss on your forehead and swayed you slowly.

“Trying to burn my kitchen down?” He asked, but there was not a hint of malice behind his words. He smiled softly at you before kissing you lightly, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the domesticity of it all.

“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” you said, pouting up at him. Your fingers wove through his soft curls at the nape of his neck, kissing him again.

“That’s sweet, baby. How about I whip us up something while you go get ready for today?” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the scar on his shoulder before walking away. Rhett couldn’t resist himself and he placed a small slap to your ass as you moved past him, relishing in the yelp you let out.

You spent all day in the city, nearly dead on your feet when you made it back to his place that evening. After a quick dinner and a (not so quick) shower, you laid in bed cuddled into Rhett’s side. Your head rested on his chest, fingers tracing shapeless figures where you lay. Rhett was dozing off, replies to your stories becoming few and far between. You were nearly asleep yourself when he whispered your name. You looked up at him and there was a look in his eyes you couldn’t recognize.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?”

Tears welled up in your eyes and you leaned in to kiss him firmly on his lips. You had not uttered those three words yet, but you felt them. You felt so deeply for Rhett, it frightened you some days. You loved him, loved everything about him. You poured all of your emotions into the kiss, hoping that somehow he would know you felt the same.

“I love you, Rhett, so much,” you said before even thinking about it, kissing him harder and moving to straddle his waist.

You were in love with Rhett Abbott. A man who was not always perfect, who was stubborn and hot headed at times. A man who picked you wildflowers ‘just because’ and who made you french toast on Sunday mornings. A man who made you feel so safe and accepted, reminding you of your worth every day. A man who has been catching you when you fall from day one. You loved him in this moment and all of the other moments in between and you hoped you got to love him for the rest of your life.

[spicyicymeloncat]

One thing I need the fandom to drop when it comes to Wu is them thinking he never talks about the ninja’s parents to them. It was never his information to disclose to Jay that he was adopted if he was even aware of that, it was up to Ed and Edna. If Jay’s mom had to make the tough decision of leaving her child behind and was never seen or heard from again despite being married to a movie star I don’t think she would’ve ran up the mountain to tell the Bros what just happened. I’m 75% sure he hardly even knew Dr. Julien or that Zane was a robot (poor guy probably couldn’t comprehend that robots could exist and be so human). Somewhere in the comics he holds a baby Cole and he was good friends with Lilly. Cole would’ve been surprised or confused when in S13 Wu says she never had a necklace like, “What do you mean? You knew my mother?” I feel at some point Cole either realizes he knows Wu from his childhood or Wu’s cryptically like “I remember you used to fight your parents on bedtimes constantly” and giggles

(Disclaimer: this is all my opinion, if anyone reading this doesn’t like Wu or disagrees with me ur valid to do so. Love u all really)

Yeah I’ve had a bit of time to think over the “Wu didn’t tell the ninja about their parents” and my blanket statement response would just be Wu couldn’t have told the ninja about their parents before their parents have even been conceptualised as characters.

The reason the ninja are continuously interesting for this many seasons is partially because their backstories weren’t told right at the beginning and they have room to develop and grow. Their parents characters are only introduced when it’s relevant to the plot, and are only canonically conceptualised right up to the season they get released. Which does make sense considering how many times the show was going to end. There’s no point planning seasons ahead of time if you aren’t sure those seasons will exist, otherwise you end up with unfinished and unsatisfying story arcs. The price of this is that the retcons contradict either Wu’s integrity or knowledge. Or do they?

Yeah I agree 100% with you on Jay’s mother. Wu probably doesn’t even know what happened to her, and considering what Nya said in s5, that elemental powers can skip generations, Wu may not have been sure Jay was her child. But even if he was, if Ed and Edna hadn’t told Jay, then it’s not really up to Wu, or at least he shouldn’t be held accountable more than Ed and Edna.

With Cole, I don’t think Wu really withheld any information about Lilly. I haven’t seen anyone debate this yet so maybe Cole doesn’t apply lol, but yeah I think Wu has been transparent about her probably. I mean considering how Wu and Cole were close, and Cole told Wu about her death as seen in s8/9 in his flashback. I haven’t seen the comics so idk how true this is (I don’t really consider the comics truly canon anyways) but I sometimes hc that Lilly kept her identity as master of earth from her family as sort of a way of dividing her work and home life, which is why Cole’s dad was originally against him being a ninja.

I also think that Wu knew Dr Julien (not very well) but didn’t know he died or got kidnapped afterwards and when he discovered Zane as a loner, and realised he didn’t remember, Wu told him that Zane had a family and that they’d look for him (which was a fruitless search bc dr Julien was at a lighthouse at sea) BECAUSE LOOK

EPISODE 2 of Ninjago and this is my favourite scene ever look look lok at this

…anyways. I think this argument is strongest with Kai and Nya’s parents. In my personal opinion I still think maybe they didn’t want Wu to tell them due to them feeling as if their parents abandoned them on purpose? Idk that’s just a theory based on how quick Kai was to turn on his dad and how much beef Nya had with her mum. Although I still think that Wu offscreen told the siblings what he knew if they asked, or that he’d make off hand comments about how cool their parents were (they were friends). Or maybe he didn’t out of fear of pressuring them. I’d feel like he’d relate considering his own father. Maybe that’s the whole reason why he didn’t tell Nya about her water powers. Because she was doing so well as a samurai and didn’t want her to live through that pressure.

Idk I think there are so many cool options when trying to make sense of Wu that I feel like it’s a shame no one sees that potential. On that note, thanks anon now I have generated more ideas about Wu and I really want to make something out of them now :P

[oneoftheprettynerds]

So We Meet Again: Dark! Stucky x Reader

Requested: Yes, based on a prompt by @heavenlyseb

A/N: I was halfway done with LACs next chapter but the inspiration died Idk why so I thought I’d invest the creative energy somewhere else and then try my hand at that again. Thank you to you for dropping this request in my ask box, @heavenlyseb​. 

WARNINGS: Non-con, Mental breakdown, spiking a drink.

Summary: Reader tries to escape her past but it’s harder when your past includes dangerous men.

Word Count: 1.3 K {so drabble I think}

The entire day something had felt wrong. Maybe it was the universe’s way of sending you a message, foreshadowing misfortune in ways it knew. 

For the first time ever you had messed up breakfast, spilling the coffee and burning the toasts. Then you had forgotten some very important papers at home that Steve thankfully had a soft copy of on his laptop. After you left office earlier than him like you always did to go home and cook, you had your car die on you and leave you stranded. This series of unfortunate events didn’t end there; unfortunately, it followed you home. 

The streak continued with the laundry getting messed up, all whites turning pink and colored fabrics getting bleached. You fingers got stuck in a drawer, yours toes also getting stubbed. Nevertheless the day wasn’t even close to beating the worst day of your life; more like the worst few months of your otherwise simple life.

A shudder ran through you as the thoughts and memories you had buried so deep surfaced again. With one uncurbed thought that gave rise to the unpleasant memory train, you were back in that posh glass office again.

 It was New Years Eve. The decorations were still hung up around the large rooftop arena, from Christmas a few days ago. The bars had the strongest alcoholic drinks wearing pretty shades of blue and orange. There were plants draped in ornaments, a lot of them. You remembered chuckling about how the potted plants were a show of wealthy people, all affluent people pretending to have a green thumb or care for the Earth.

You greeted the people you knew and joked about resolutions. You remember hanging out with the only actual friend you had there, the receptionist Lucy. Anyone else you talked to at the company was merely a coworker, some of them plotting your downfall even. But Lucy was genuine, and so your only friend.

Said friend however, did abandon you few minutes prior to midnight with poor, half a hearted apologies, running in preparation for her midnight kiss. You giggled and honestly, weren’t even offended, just amused by her antics.

You planned on sulking in the corner with the other singles who weren’t ready to mingle and saying goodbye as soon as the clock hit twelve. That plan failed when your handsome hunk of a boss, whom you had seen only a handful of times and encountered for even fewer, brought you a drink and asked for a few minutes of your time.

You don’t know what made you go then, nor do you have any better take on the situation even now but the gist of it all was that you did oblige. It could have been the alcohol coursing through your veins, the encouragement by others’ jealous stares and Lucy’s wink or even the slight crush you had on the man with the cerulean eyes.      

However, going to his office and him fucking you on that sandalwood desk wasn’t your choice.

You remember him kissing you at the midnight stroke, a kiss sizzling with passion and yearning. When you both pulled away, you felt flushed and giddy but the carnal desire in his eyes after just one kiss alarmed you. Still, you offered to exchange numbers for a follow up, he was your boss after all but your dazed mind could not even remember your own number.

Your mind began to lose consciousness as you sweated and your skin heated, head and folds burning alike. You slipped in and out of articulacy, fragments of memory in your mind.

You shook your head as you realized you were shaking, keeping the knife down on the board and halting the slicing of tomatoes. You wiped your tears as you chided yourself for almost getting into another accident, a fatal one even, zoning out like that with a sharp knife.

The sound of the door opening and closing made you calm, Steve was home now. You hadn’t told him everything about your past yet, just bits and pieces, but you had never felt unsafe with him. He was nothing short of a gentleman, courted you properly and even waited months when you weren’t initially ready.

He let you progress the relationship on your terms, his support always there whether it was the question of spending a night together or moving in. His arms were where you felt the safest, his strength a promise of protection. 

A second set of footsteps made you furry your eyebrows, Steve didn’t inform you of company tonight. You pushed your anguish aside, putting on a facade for his guest as you got back to chopping. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Steve’s holler made you easy, his presence itself was comforting.  

“I’m in the kitchen.” You sung back, the nickname making you smile. 

“I brought a guest for dinner, hope you don’t mind.” He called out from the living room, the slight thud of furniture telling you they sat there.

You checked the broth, dinner for three would take time, even more so as your bad luck kept you on your toes today. Switching off the stove you sighed and made you way to the living room.

You planned to ask Steve to order and simultaneously greet his guest but ice froze in your veins when you entered the square doorway. Your planned again and at this point, one would think they had a knack for unsuccessful plans.

You could never forget the broad shoulders, the silky brunette locks and the sapphire blue eyes of James Buchanan Barnes, the handsome devil that haunted your existence.

You remembered waking up to your senses getting slaughtered. The drag of a cock in your hole as you clenched as tightly as a boxer’s fist. The squelching noises, the breathy moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. It took all you had in you to open your eyes every time you slipped out of consciousness.

You remembered being taken on every surface in his large office, against the glass panels looking onto the city below, on his velvet sofa, even his private elevator.  

Barnes had whispered sweet nothings in your ears that night and every night after like he was your lover, not your assaulter. How he cornered you with the obscene footage the night after when you threatened to press charges. You both knew then that you had no hope, no chance of winning against him and would have no dignity either if released some footage with some faces blurred.

He used and abused you and his power, until the day you finally gathered your guts and went far way, a new place, new start. 

You believed you didn’t leave a trail behind but then how was the devil himself greeting you in your own home? 

Your whole body shook like it did minutes earlier and you found Steve gently cradling your face. You flinched at his touch, skidding away, “Get this man out of here, Steve!” If looks could kill, the brunette would have dropped dead.

James Barnes had the audacity to smirk as you brushed a hand through his hair, ever so confident and smug, your shaken form amusing him.

Steve hung his hand around your shoulder and wiped a tear that had escaped. His arms were your haven and such you had believed until a moment later, “That’s no way to greet Bucky, sweetheart.” 

Your head whipped at light’s speed as you looked in horror at Steve, the hold on your shoulders tightening and keeping you alongside him.

“He was kind enough to give you months to adjust but now he misses you more than he can endure.”

  “Steve, you don’t know what your bastard of a frien-” You started hoping it was a misunderstanding on your part.

At the curse, Steve’s grip became bruising as he cut you off, “Trust me sweetheart, I know. Bucky and I don’t have secrets.” 

[myhauntedsalem]

CAN CHILDREN SEE GHOSTS? 17 SPINE-CHILLING TRUE STORIES THAT PROVE THEY DO

Have you ever found your child talking to “someone” when they were alone in their room? Is it simply an active imagination or could it be a visitor from beyond the grave?

For most parents, when their child tells them about their new imaginary friend, they simply put it down to their child’s active imagination. Completely normal… right? Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s a widely held belief that some children can see and connect with those who have passed on. A popular theory is that we’re all born with the ability to connect to the other side but, as we grow up and become more cynical and disbelieving of all things unknown, that ability disappears. The following chilling true tales of imaginary friends and unseen visitors in the dead of night might go some way in proving that our children can and do communicate with the dead.

Parents beware, you’ll be checking under the bed and in your closets after reading these horrifying supernatural encounters.

1. THE BELIEVER

I believe that there are happenings on this earth that cannot be logically explained. I’ve always been a little skeptical, but I didn’t completely denounce that ghosts exists.

However, I’m starting to think they are definitely real, and that little kids can see them.

Yesterday, Sunday, I volunteered to watch the little kids of my church while their parents were out volunteering. Our church meets in the community center, so that’s where I was watching the kids — one baby, and two 2-year-olds – a boy and a girl. And you are right, our church is not very big.

After the center cleared out, it was just me and one other volunteer. She had the baby in a side room, trying to put him down for a nap. I had the two-year-olds in the main room.

I had a “weird feeling” all day, and kept feeling like there was someone standing behind me, but chalked it up to being alone in the building. The kids and I were sitting on the floor and rolling a ball back and forth to one another when the boy asked if we could throw it instead. I said yes and we stood up. He ran towards me and threw the ball just out of my reach. It went behind me. I did not hear it bounce.

The kids looked at each other and started giggling. I whirled around and saw the ball suspended in midair for a split second before falling to the ground. The kids just kept laughing. They started pointing and saying what sounded like “the man! the man!”

That was all the “paranormal” that occurred yesterday. The kids didn’t say anything about “the man” for the rest of the day. It freaked me out, but I wasn’t scared. I just wanted to share.

2. IT WAS JUST A DREAM

My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.

3. DADDY, WHO’S THAT MAN?

When my daughter was younger (maybe 2 1/2 years old) she slept in her crib in the room next to me and my wife. One night she was stirring and maybe a little frightened, so I went in to get her and brought her to our room. She was wide awake now in our bed and not scared at all now. She was looking wondrously at the foot of our bed saying “look at the lights, the sparkles….” Kind of playfully she kept mentioning “the lights”. Then she said “Daddy, who’s that man?” Pointing directly at the foot of our bed.

It was definitely unsettling.

We had bought the apartment from a very elderly couple who passed in the apartment a few months earlier. Probably never forget that.

4. THE CAPTAIN

A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.

I was always creeped out working with that student after that.

5. MY COUSIN TRACY

When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, why don’t I find out more about this friend. So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, “She’s a she and she’s dead.” And I said okay, “Does she have a job?” and she said, “She does what my Daddy does!” Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. Okay. So then I said, “Where is your imaginary friend a policewoman at?” and she said, “Right next to where my daddy is a policeman.” And I said okay. But then she said, “I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched me when I was inside.”

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my nieces “Daddy.” My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.

6. EMILY

when my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and i could hear my sister just screaming and screaming as loud as she “Get out”.

I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently, Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

I’m not making any of this up. My sister’s little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.

7. JESSICA

A little after I was born, my sister Julia had an imaginary friend named Jessica. She was Julia’s friend for a long time, when things started to get a little weird. At first my parents shrugged it off as a normal occurrence, but after a while they began to believe that our house was haunted .One night as my parents put me (about one years old) to sleep, I begin to cry and point at the corner, my mom was still in there and began to try to comfort me, but I continued to cry and point at the same corner. All of the sudden, my sister walks into my room and points at the corner and yells “Jessica stop it!”

Immediately I stop crying and Julia says like it is completely normal that “Sometimes Jessica likes to put on scary masks and scare people”. My mom who was understandably freaked out stammers to my sister “Tell Jessica that if she can’t play nice, she can’t play here at all”.

A couple weeks go by and Julia tells my Mom that “Her eyes turn green when she is mad and her voice gets deeper”. My Mom didn’t know how to respond to this and just said “ok….”

Eventually Julia outgrows her “imaginary” friend and stops playing with her.

A year and a half later my little sister Abbey begins to talk, she then goes on to tell us about her friend that no one else can see. She then tells my mom about how her eyes turn green when she is upset. I remember this distinctly because she dropped a pan and it scared me. She asked Abbey what her name was and she said…

“Jessica.”

8. THE BOY IN THE TREE

My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says “What’s that boy doing up in that tree?” There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.

9. YOU’RE DOING A GOOD JOB

My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say “what? OK, I’ll tell her” then get up and come into our bedroom and told my wife “Mary says you’re doing a good job.”

Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close too that passed away.

10. THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY

When my nephew was born, ten years ago now. Around age 2/3 He’d wake up in the middle of the night and when my sister and her fiance went to settle him down he’d be staring at the corner of the room, or at the open doorway saying there was a man standing there, that he came and talked to him at night. Sometimes he was scared, sometimes he was calm, but my sister was terrified!

11. MY FRIEND JOE

Not my kid, but something my mum said I did when I was little.

I had this imaginary friend named “Joe” – was pretty normal imaginary friend stuff to begin with, my parents would ask about him and I’d respond with something like “I like Joe” “He has curly black hair” “He likes to play outside” nothing interesting.

Until one day I come out with “Joe has to work a lot, but Joe’s boss doesn’t like him.” when asked why, I responded with “Oh, it’s because Joe’s black.” As if it was obvious. Now this wouldn’t have been weird at all if I hadn’t grown up in a very small all-white town. And I was about 3 years old, I didn’t know (or rather, hadn’t been taught) that racism was even a thing.

This continued on for a while, I’d mention Joe now and then, sometimes talking about what he did for fun, or his favorite things, other times mentioning that his boss hits him and shouts all the time.

After a few months, I go up to my mum one day and have a conversation that went something like this: “Joe’s really happy today. His boss isn’t coming back” ‘Why?’ “He’s dead” ‘Oh yeah? How did he die?’ “He hung himself from up there” (as I point up towards the attic door).

I don’t remember much of this, I definitely remember having an imaginary friend named Joe.

12. THE LITTLE GIRL

My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in NH when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.

And, yes, I found out later that a little girl drowned in the lake near that same spot (of course).

13. THE IMAGINARY FRIEND

When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed, she said “That looks like Kelly.” “Kelly who?” we say “You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.”

14. HER EYES WOULD FOLLOW IT

I had tons of experiences like this when my little girl was born a few years ago. From being just a few months old we noticed she’d randomly start looking over at something and giggling, like something was making her laugh. Her eyes would follow it around the room. And sometimes we’d feel like it was stood right next to us or behind us and then we’d noticed she was looking at it, or smiling in that direction. It never caused any problems though, in fact, when she was upset she’d look over at it and start laughing or smiling. And if we couldn’t find something we really needed, suddenly it’d appear right in front of us, when we knew we’d checked there a hundred times.

Stopped around the time she turned two.

15. PUNISHMENT

I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old. he’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. he wasn’t in the bed and when i opened the door wider, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say “shhh”. I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, “leave us. It is the punishment.”

16. HE DOESN’T HAVE A FACE

My son from the age of three always tells me about the “creeper man” who lives in my mom and dads bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said “Oh, he doesn’t have a face.”

17. I WAS THE SAME

I tend to be skeptical also, even when I love reading about paranormal stuff, the only thing that has kind of freaked me out has been my nephew a couple of years ago when he was about 2 1/2 years old would talk to a man only he could see at my house and an old lady at his grandparents house.

My mother tells me I was the same, talking and playing with my grandfather for a few months after he died, I would call to him and hold conversations with him and even wish him good night before going to bed.

[ragingbookdragon]

Should Judgement Come To Pass

Asra x M!Apprentice

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: My spin on Book 20: Judgment, 1. The Red Room. Enjoy! -Thorne

           It was the oppressive emotion that kept his throat tight, heart hammering in his chest as he gazed from his plate to the other members of the Devil’s dinner party. Even if he wasn’t under the compulsion like Asra and them, his movements made him feel like he was. Too focused on trying to fit in, to keep the secret of his freedom hidden, it was eating away at his usually reserved demeanor. His eyes shifted to Asra, just a second is all it took for the other to nod and he inhaled deeply, glancing towards the Devil, an inviting smile growing underneath his mask. And the Devil smiled back, but it was anything but friendly.

           “See, (Y/N). All of this isn’t so bad.” He raised the silver goblet in his hand, and (Y/N) took a moment to glance at his own wine, imagining one of those vampire eels swimming around in it.

           “There’s food and wine, all of your favorite people in the same place. What more could you even ask for?” (Y/N) knew he had to play this by ear, and his answers had to seem like the most selfish he could possess.

           “I’d like…power.” He allowed a mock look of greed to come across him, voice dark and lusting. “If this is how it’s going to be, I want power.” The Devil burst into a roaring laughter, Valdemar and the others following.

           “Power!” The Devil repeated with a low chuckle. “Perhaps you and I are not so different after all, (Y/N).” He gave him a knowing look. “I bet you want to return to the great monster hunter you were before, hmm?”

           (Y/N) took a moment to think it over. “I can’t deny it’s crossed my mind.” His eyes flitted to Nadia and he sent a silent plea that she would play along. “When I was as powerful as I was three years ago, I had princesses tripping over themselves to make me their consorts.”

           Nadia was one smart cookie because she scoffed and spat, “You are just the same as Lucio.”

           He winked and flashed a pearly grin. “I can’t deny that power has its benefits.”

           “All mortals want power, Nadia,” the Devil tutted before turning his attention back onto (Y/N). “You desire to crush your enemies and to befuddle your betters…” his eyes darted to Asra. “To protect the ones you love dearly.”

           A bolt of white-hot anger thundered in (Y/N)’s chest, but he merely smiled through his clenched teeth. “What can I say? I’m a greedy bastard.”

           Some of the attendents laughed, and that was when (Y/N) felt the cool whisper of Asra’s magic was over him and Faust. Averting his gaze, he absentmindedly ran his pointer around the rim of his wine glass.

           “So, Devil?”

           The dark, maroon eye fell on him. “Yes, (Y/N)?”

           “Can I ask you something before the world is shot to hell?”

           The Devil snorted. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. The world isn’t going to end, it’s just going to be…altered.”

           (Y/N) met his stare head on. “Why go through all this trouble? You’re an Arcana. You have control of an entire realm, and anybody stupi—understanding enough of magic to deal with?”

           Tutting once more, the Devil sighed. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Do you have any idea what any of what you just said means?” He scoffed. “Of course you don’t, do you? You’ve never even stopped to consider it. We Arcana are masters of our own realms, but in the rest of existence, we are confined. Restricted to our unchanging roles.” The Devil offered a sympathetic look. “Surely someone as talented and smart as you can see how awfully tiresome it would become to stay unchanging all the time?”

           (Y/N) opened his mouth to respond when he heard a voice that sent his heart pounding against his chest.

           Help!

           Before he could even do a thing, Asra jolted in his seat, knee banging the underside of the table, fork clattering against the porcelain dish. The Devil was silent, but (Y/N) could tell that in the way his crimson eyes focused on Asra that he was suspicious.

           (Y/N) sucked in a breath, eyes darting wildly around to find some form of distraction, all the while Asra and Faust were conversing. It was too confusing, trying to focus on them while trying to distract the Devil. If he didn’t find something to say, something to do, they were doomed. They were—

           “…no one wants you here, Devil.”

           The voice was quiet but firm, and (Y/N) turned his attention to Muriel who gave him a small nod. It was just the distraction enough because the Devil turned on Muriel, but he met the glare with defiant green eyes.

           Across the table, Julian cleared is throat too, voice carrying over the table. “He’s right you know. I can party with just about anyone, even Lucio, but you have to be the exception.”

           Soon, everyone was following along, and Nadia was the next to get her shot in. “And I do not recall inviting you to my Masquerade. You have been such an ungracious guest.” (Y/N) fought viciously to keep the smile hidden as he looked over his frien—no, his best friends.

           The Devil paused a moment to regard them all, as if he genuinely cared what they were saying to him, though the way his clawed hands started clenching and unclenching told him otherwise.

           “Courage in the face of inevitable fate.” His voice turned downright mocking. “How…admirable.” Smiling, he added, “I hope something of you remains when the new world dawns. Perhaps I’ll have new toys to play with.”

           A flickering next to (Y/N)’s silver chalice caught his eye, something that could’ve been a trick of the light, but he knew what it really was. The red wine rippled, then stilled, and next to him, Asra slumped back in his seat, exhaustion seeping down his body. (Y/N) inconspicuously lowered his hand to Asra’s thigh, trying to pour magic into his lover. Whether it worked or not, he didn’t know, but the way Asra sighed in slight relief made his heart calm. Cool snakeskin ran behind his ankle as Faust wound her way up.

           Done…

           Even she sounded exhausted. His heart picked up again, but he was too afraid to even look in Asra’s direction for fear that a single glance would give them both away.

           The Devil raised his chalice and smiled. “To all of you. Thank you so much for playing the wonderful parts you’ve been given.”

He passed the chalice to Julian, and try as he did to resist, the compulsion was too strong, and he took the goblet. His normally pale complexion seemed to whiten even further after he swallowed the wine. The chalice made its way around the table, and one by one the dinner guests drank from it before it finally reached Asra and (Y/N).

           Raising it, Asra said, “To you, (Y/N).” he took a long sip before passing it over into (Y/N) hands.

           He took a long look at it, the dark crimson stains across the sides of the polished silver made his stomach curl. Before he lost his nerve, he grunted and knocked the remaining wine back, forcing himself to keep the sickly saccharine liquid down.

           Asra’s hand fell to his, worry in his voice. “Are you alright, my love?”

           He didn’t have a chance to respond as the Devil chuckled and shook his head, eyes falling on the two of them. “Love. Tell me Asra, what do you think your love managed to accomplish?” With a clawed hand, he vaguely gestured to the rest of the guests at the table. “Everyone is here. Everyone drank the wine. Even your darling (Y/N).”

           Grinning evilly, he finished with, “All your efforts were for naught. You and your love achieved nothing.”

           And that was the bridge too far. (Y/N) could take the Devil mocking his failures, but not those of Asra’s. His lover had worked for too long, worked far too hard, and suffered enough to be subjected to such abuse.

           The screeching of his chair sounded through the room as he stood to his feet and to his full height, ripping the mask off his face so the Devil could look his straight in the eyes.

           “You’re wrong,” (Y/N) condemned with the most withering glower he could muster.

           “Oh?” the Devil merely looked amused as he steepled his fingers. “Indulge me then, (Y/N). Tell me how wrong I am about this mortal delusion you call love.”

           Everyone fell silent, and with the weight of their gazes on him, (Y/N) inhaled and exhaled before he picked up the empty goblet and turned to Asra.

           “Asra, the first thing I remember in this new existence is the feeling of your arms wrapped protectively around me, the relieved and joyous tears seeping into my shirt.” He reached out, taking his lover’s hand. “You have always and will always be the greatest part of me, the truest friend and partner. The man I love the most.”

           (Y/N) raised the chalice to Julian. “We discovered the truth and redeemed an innocent man…not that he made it easy on us.” Julian’s face flushed a light pink as he laughed and gave a dramatic bow.

           “We have traveled across the realms of magic with nothing but our wits and ability to save us. We saved your parents and unraveled numerous mysteries great and small.” Asra’s eyes shone with crystal clear tears and he squeezed (Y/N)’s hand with all he could.

           “I couldn’t’ve done this, any of this, had you not been by my side the entire time.” Flashing him a smile, “Well, I probably could’ve, but not as stylishly of course.” Asra merely giggled and nodded.

           Sighing indulgently, the Devil glanced at them. “Yes, yes, this all so very touching. Dare I ask what even your point to all this is, (Y/N)?”

           (Y/N) tossed the goblet away, not caring that it bounced along the marble floor with a clang. The Devil’s eyes briefly darted to it, then back to him, an anger drawing into them.

           “Love’s the one thing you don’t understand Devil. It will always matter, even if you can’t comprehend it.” He tugged Asra to his feet and turned his attention to the beautiful mauve eyes he as well as his own. “It’s important to me. Important to us. And that’s all I need to be happy.”

           Raising his free hand, he caressed Asra’s cheek. “I don’t need anything else as long as you’re by my side, beloved.”

           “Is that so? Love has driven many passionate mortals, the same as you, into my open and waiting arms.” He grinned deviously. “Always craving more pleasure, more novelty, more control. Your kind are never sated. You’re greedy—like me.”

           (Y/N) shook his head, but never took his eyes off Asra’s. “The feelings you’re describing aren’t love. That’s pride and arrogance. Greed and loathing.”

           Finally, he looked over at the Devil. “However, I’m not surprised that the likes of you can’t tell the difference. It’s almost pitiful. But it makes me see just how delusional you’ve become in this whirlwind of a masterplan.” Expecting a barb back at him, (Y/N) was unnerved to see how conspicuously silent the Devil became.

           Asra looked as though he was seeing the sunrise for the first time after a life in the darkness as he confessed, “(Y/N), you didn’t have to say all the on my behalf.”

           He grinned at his lover. “Probably not…but it made me feel all manly to defend your honor.” Pressing a quick kiss to his cheekbone, he murmured, “Like a knight in shining armor defending his damsel in distress.” Asra snorted, pressing his face into (Y/N)’s shoulder to muffle his laughter, and it made his heart feel bubbly and light despite the gloom and darkness around them.

           “Well, I do feel safe and defended, so thank you, (Y/N).” Peeking his head up, he gazed into (Y/N)’s eyes. “And remember, whatever comes next and becomes of us, I love you too.”

           His heart swelled in his chest and it was only then that (Y/N) realized that everyone was watching them with grand smiles on their faces. It was enough to stun him and Asra, mainly because they’d forgotten they weren’t alone—Asra more so.

The Devil on the other hand was barely containing his annoyance. “Are you quite finished filibustering, (Y/N)? I’ve an agenda to keep up with.”

           (Y/N) shrugged and deadpanned, “Technically you asked me, asshole.”

           Ignoring the insult, the Devil huffed, “A moment of idle curiosity, nothing more than so.” Not wanting to push the envelope farther, (Y/N) fell silent and let the conversation stand. “Nevertheless, now that your sickenin—heartwarming display is over…”

           With an earsplitting ring, the Devil’s hands clapped together. (Y/N)’s teeth rattled, ears ringing as every nerve ending was set aflame. By the shock on Asra and the other’s faces, they felt it too. As quick as it came over, it was gone, and Julian was the first to break the silence.

           “Uh…was something supposed to happen? Because I don’t think it’s happening.”

           “Patience,” the Devil commanded. “One can’t rush these things.” Clapping his hands again, the same outcome applied. “What…is this? It should work.”

           (Y/N) sighed wistfully, and with humor. “Ah well, performance issues are not uncommon.” Asra choked on his spit as he tried not to laugh. “Running an apothecary, I’ve seen it’s about one out of five. I could recommend—” A deafening screech echoed through the room and they all spun to see Volta screaming at the top of her lungs.

           “Oh! Oh, what is happening to Volta? Volta feels…light? Volta feels so strange!”

           They stared in shock as the other courtiers started squirming uncontrollably in their seats, even Valdemar who was the strongest of them appeared particularly rattled. Something didn’t seem right with them to (Y/N) and before he could speak his concern to Asra, his vision fell into a hazy red, nausea threatening to turn his stomach inside out. What reeled him more was the true visage of the courtiers—constructed shells, thin as frost, and barely containing their real, nightmarish forms. He drew his eyes away only to catch sight of the ghostly chains binding everyone to their chairs. The vision began to fade, and the chains started unraveling, link by link by link.

           When it all cleared, the first thing (Y/N) saw was Asra’s face. “Come on, (Y/N). Deep breaths. You’re here. You’re with me.”

           He breathed a sigh of relief. “Asra, we did it. The plan worked.”

           “What? How do you know? What did you see?” Asra’s questions were rapid-fire.

           Nadia cut off any response, rising from her seat gloriously like a phoenix from the ashes. “Whatever you hoped to accomplish has failed, Devil.” Her voice held a barely contained, seething rage. “If you are quite done with this perverse little charade, get the hell out of my Palace.”

           Everyone began to rise as though they were awakening from a long, hellish dream, standing as they were no longer bound by the ritual. Asra and (Y/N)’s smiles grew by the moment.

           Asra looped his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, hugging him tightly. “We did it! It worked!”

           (Y/N) yanked off his mask and took hold of Asra’s chin, sealing their lips in a searing kiss. As they pulled away, Aisha and Salim leapt from the chair and ran over to hug them.

           “Oh, thank the Gods you’re both alright!” Aisha exclaimed, pressing kisses to both their cheeks.

           “What of you two? Are you hurt?” Asra’s hurt was palpable. “I’m so sorry we didn’t come sooner. We—”

           Salim rested a hand on Asra’s shoulder. “Asra, don’t be sorry. We’re alright. And you two did marvelously.”

           “And we’re so very proud of you two,” Aisha added with a smile.

           “Ahem.” The Devil exaggerated and everything fell silent once more. Asra took his place before his parents, and (Y/N) before him.

           “We drank your wine and ate your food, and nothing has happened. The ritual has failed. It’s over. Let us go.”

           All at once the shadows darkened as he rose from his seat, form distorting until he towered over the guests.

           “Over?” he laughed coldly. “Never.” He reached out a shadowy clawed hand to seize them, blackened fire erupting around the room.

           (Y/N) raised a hand, instantly cooling the fires around Asra and he. “It’s over, Devil. Fate says it is. We say it is.” His eyes narrowed with determination and he fiercely declared, “I say it is.”

           “You’re not going anywhere you foolish mortals,” the Devil countered and (Y/N) willed the magic to his fingers, an ethereal blade forming in his hand.

           He pointed at the Devil, took Asra’s hand in his free one, and dared fearlessly, “Watch us.”

[rightsockjin]

Hi, can i request 21 and Yoongi please?

Here you go! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Collage AU! Yoongi and you are in the same psychology class and he really can not stand you...

Rating: K+

Genre: FLuffY flufF Fluff... It’s fluff. but like a lil..

This was really fun to write and I can’t wait until I get to write the rest! Please send in an ask if you want to request a prompt! 

Prompt list

She’s just so obnoxious,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Then stop talking to her,” Joon said with a shrug as he turned the page of his book.

Waves of frustration ran through him. He didn’t really think that Joon wasn’t looking at him. He knew he was overreacting but he needed to blow off steam.

“I can’t,” he groaned for what felt like the millionth time.

“Why?”

Questions.

That was what Joon was made up of.

Whats and whens and whys.

Yoongi, being the introvert he was, usually wasn’t fond of people like this but Kim Namjoon had been an exception.

He’d never tell him that though.

It was too fun to roll his eyes at his -

Fr-

Frien-

Fr-fr-

*cough* friend *cough*

He did just that before running a hand through his dark hair.

“If I had a 500 won for every time you ask a question-“

“You’d be rolling in money- yeah I know,” Joon said, still not looking up. Carefully, he highlighted a sentence.

Yoongi watched as the perfect yellow line appeared against the slightly beige page filled with poetry.

Namjoon was anal about things like his notes and books and writing.

Yoongi on the other hand, wrote like a kindergartener and didn’t give a single shit.

Still... It was kind of satisfying to watch him highlight words.

“Still, I don’t see why you keep in contact with her if she gets on your nerves.”

Yoongi scoffed.

How many times must he explain?

“Because!”

When he didn’t continue, Namjoon finally glanced up through his lashes as if this would be enough to egg him on to continue.

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, daring him to ask another question as he crossed his arms.

With an exasperated sigh, Namjoon grabbed a bookmark from his pence bag that was carefully coordinated by color and stuck it between the pages before he closed it and set it aside on the table they were sharing to study.

Study, being a loose explanation for their presence on campus since Yoongi had only set his multiple psychology books on the surface of the table and hasn’t touched them since he sat down half an hour ago.

“I‘ll bite,” Joon said, a smirk on his face as he straightened and pushed his glasses on the bridge of his tiny nose.

Yoongi smiled and waited for his Fr-Joon to ask him to continue.

Hey, he may be an introvert, but he had feelings and emotions that he wanted to get off his chest and Namjoon was a fantastic listener.

He never took his sarcasm to heart.

This is one of the many reasons that Yoongi liked...

Anyway-

“Because of what, Yoongi?”

A dopey smile graced Namjoon’s face as he rested his round cheeks on his knuckles.

This is what he was talking about.

Full attention bitch!

“Because,” Yoongi said once again as if it was an inconvenience to speak at all, “she’s the smartest person in my psyc classes! I refuse to acquaint myself with anyone who isn’t level with my intellect.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes tapping his long fingers against his dimples cheek.

“Big words for such a small man,” he said before breaking out into high pitched giggles.

“You know what isn’t small?” Yoongi challenged.

“Your ego-“

“My dick- awe come on man! Just once let me have my fun,” Yoongi groaned slamming a hand on one of the biggest and heaviest books he had.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the library aid glare in his direction.

He smiled and waved cheekily but shrunk into himself slightly before he turned back to Joon and his infuriating smile.

“You look like a big baby in those overalls,” Yoongi said when he couldn’t think of a good comeback.

Namjoon smiled and leaned back, his hands threaded in his hair.

“That’s the aesthetic I was going for.”

Stupid tree hugger.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something else.

Probably something about his obnoxious habit of tapping his pens on the table when a chair was pulled up on his left quickly followed by one on his right.

Hoseok and Seokjin

Or as he liked to refer to them in his head-

Icarus and Narcissist

-weren’t exactly his friends rather, they were Namjoon’s friends but he tolerated them on most days as long as they didn’t come on too strong.

Today was one of those days that they got on his nerves instantly.

“Yo,” Hoseok half yelled, getting an annoyed “shh” from the library aid, his chair turned so the back was facing the table and his legs were spread on either side.

“How’s it going,” Seokjin added.

“Did your class end early?” Namjoon asked, looking down at his watch in confusion.

“Nah,” Hoseok answered looking at Seokjin mischievously.

“We snuck out of the lecture half way through.”

Namjoon scrunched his nose in distaste while shooting the library aid an awkward smile at Hoseok’s loudness.

“That is so irresponsible Hobi! Don’t expect me to stay up with you two all night for the next test like I did last time-“

“Oh don’t start with the lectures Namjoonie,” Hoseok groaned.

“We just snuck out of one, we clearly don’t want to listen to boring people drone on and on and on....”

“I hope you have fun failing your next exam.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hoseok said clearly unbothered, “you said that last time as well.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. He’d never told Namjoon but that Hoseok really struck a nerve with him.

He was always relying on Namjoon to make sure he passed his classes since all of them were in the same minor- music.

He never did anything on his own and in general, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel he was using him.

Maybe he was jealous.

But nope that wasn’t it Yoongi didn’t do feelings aside from annoyance.

“Whatever,” Joon said, turning his attention back to Yoongi, “anyway, can’t you just- I don’t know, talk to her minimally?”

“Talk to who?” Seokjin asked curiously.

“Her?” Hoseok added, his eyes wide.

“Does Yoongles have a girlfriend?”

“Thanks a lot,” Yoongi said, staring directly at Namjoon with a ‘look at what you did’ expression.

Namjoon shrugged and blushed.

That was another thing.

Namjoon didn’t have a single filter.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Yoongi clarifies.

“I have a nemeses,” he said, his fist clenching on the table and his eyebrows connecting.

A slight silence followed after that.

Then like dominos, Hoseok burst out laughing, closely followed by Jin and then finally by Namjoon.

Yoongi felt his cheeks warm as the boys raucously laughed. Hoseok slapping his leg, Namjoon covering his mouth and Seokjin rocking in his chair.

“Wha-well she is! She’s like... top of my class! It’s always between me and her and it’s gone to her head!”

“Ah- Uh- a nemesis?” Hoseok asked between explosive laughter.

“Or like arch-enemy,” Yoongi said with a thoughtful sigh, accepting his fate as the boys laughed louder.

Even Namjoon, who was just as anal about following the rules- which Yoongi guesses had something to do with the pretty Library aid was laughing his full belly laugh.

“An arch-enemy?” Seokjin asked for clarity.

Yoongi nodded.

“She’s like my mortal enemy,” he finished.

Yeah

That felt right.

It was a couple more seconds in which the aid glared in their direction and their laughter died down.

Yoongi waited patiently for them to quiet so he could continue. Might as well. They all knew now.

When they finally did, Namjoon noticed the way the aid was looking at them and blushed, hiding in his oversized hoodie.

“Don’t you think that’s a little over the top?” Seokjin asked, whipping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“No.” He answered simply.

And he wasn’t.

You were everything he couldn’t stand.

You were inquisitive like Namjoon.

You were overtly loud like Hoseok.

And you were as full of yourself as Seokjin.

And on top of that, you were a genius?

You had all of their worst qualities, and

He.

Couldn’t.

Stand.

You.

Namjoon cleared his throat then, drawing his attention back to the group.

He looked flummoxed.

“Maybe we should go eat or something... I’m starting to feel bad for the people studying.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok giggles looking in the direction that Namjoon kept glancing in.

“It has nothing to do with the death glares that glasses is giving us, right?”

He pointed over at the aid who was indeed shooting daggers in their directions

“No!” Namjoon said instantly.

“It’s just that the library is supposed to be a quiet place for studying-“

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist English boy,” Hoseok said.

Yoongi scoffed.

“The best you could come up with was English boy?”

“Well I’m not an English boy,” Hoseok answered dramatically swooning.

“Clearly,” Namjoon murmured, putting his stuff in his satchel.

Yoongi began to pack up as well. He really had planned on getting some reading done while he was hanging out with Joon but he quite obviously got side tracked.

He’d have to do it later.

“So where do we wanna eat, gang?” Hoseok asked, standing up.

“I think I’m gonna pass,” Yoongi said, realizing that he hadn’t started on the paper he was supposed to do yesterday either for his music theory class.

“Awe no,” Hoseok moaned grabbing Yoongi’s shoulders, “it’s all of us or none of us!”

Yoongi huffed and pushed his arms off of him, “then I guess it’s none of us. I have a shit ton of homework to do and you people distract me.”

Namjoon crossed his bag over his chest and squinted at him.

“But hyung,” Namjoon began, “you’re the one who asked to meet in the first place.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s really not that hard,” you said as you spread your perfect color coded notes all over the table that you and Yoongi were working on.

Then your computer

And your pens that were sorted by thickness and color.

And your textbooks.

When you were done, Yoongi only had about a quarter of the space you had. 

Given, he just had his laptop and a single notebook-

No pen though.

It was still rude how you had taken the entirety of the space available for BOTH of you.

“It’s rooted in the way that humans tend to identify with colors and pictures. We can’t help but to interpret art in a way that speaks to us which is why it’s so useful for therapy.”

“I know that,” Yoongi snapped with a roll of his eyes, “I just don’t know if it’s the most useful strategy when it comes to someone who’s never been in therapy before.”

He bit at his thumb in thought.

“Why wouldn’t it be? It would take a lot of pressure off of the psychologist and the patient so they don’t feel cornered into talking about their feelings.”

“Well what if the patient is uncomfortable with their art work? Or they have no interest in drawing or music? How would you go about that?”

Yeah.

Art therapy was great.

Honestly, that’s the branch that Yoongi wanted to study and had chosen the topic for that exact reason.

He just hadn’t expected you to choose it as well.

Now, he was trying-

And failing

-At trying to discredit the practice.

“You have them look or listen instead. Then they can just write what they feel. It’s simple Yoongi.”

He grunted, leaning back against his chair.

“Okay fine. Put that into the powerpoint,” he conceded.

“I will.”

You booted up your computer and he lost himself in the sound of the keys you pressed.

On his screen, he could see the shared PowerPoint and her cursor moving. He’d done maybe two of the slides on it because you were so over the top controlling that he’d given up trying to contribute.

“Hey Yoongi,” you said as you continued to type.

He peeked up at the sound of your voice from behind his screen.

“Can I ask you an uncomfortable question?”

Yoongi’s blood ran cold.

She seemed to take his lack of negation as confirmation.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

How long had he-

Had he-

D:

Wha-what?

Were you kidding?

Yoongi laughed. Obviously it was a joke.

But you stopped typing and looked over at Yoongi.

Your hands were folded on the table next to your notebook.

Your glasses rested on the tip of your nose.

Your bun was messy. Strands of hair framed your face.

The top button of your white shirt was undone.

You weren’t amused.

“Wait,” he leaned forward, slapping his hands on the table and leaning forward, “you’re not serious are you?”

With a single finger, you pushed the black frames up slowly.

Tiredly.

“I am.”

How could someone misread him so badly?

Yoongi took a deep breath.

“Y/N,” deep breath, “I am not in love with you.”

With a soft smile that sent his stomach in a frenzy and a scowl on his face you leaned forward.

“Has anyone ever told you that there is a fine line between love and hate?”

“That’s just a theory,” Yoongi said instantly leaning back. If that’s all you were going off of then you had no basis to your hypothesis.

“A theory grounded on the intensity of emotions and the predictability or lack thereof of human psyche.”

He scoffed.

Not Yoongi’s.

He only held disdain for you.

While he really hadn’t thought that you would notice his clear dislike of you, he was a little confused as to why you would think it would lead to him falling in love with you.

This wasn’t a romcom.

Right?

“Look, Y/N,” he chuckled, “the only feelings I have for you are-“

Stop.

Don’t say it.

“Contempt.”

You raised an eyebrow at that.

A pretty smile-

What? Where did that come from?

A smirk tugged at your lips.

“We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Yoongi couldn’t take it any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d had enough.

ENOUGH.

You hadn’t spoken to him ever since your presentation.

And it was a great presentation!

He even spoke and everything!

People were shocked.

He was pretty sure almost everyone in that class thought he was mute.

He had even been extra nice right before so that you won’t give him a bad peer review.

So. *Inhale*

*exhale*

Why in the name of all that is holy did you suddenly decide to not speak to him or even so much as glance at him?

He walked into class that day and had been kind enough to save you a seat.

Out of the pure kindness of his heart mind you.

Kindness that he displayed for no one.

And yet you had bypassed him entirely and sat way in the back without so much as a friendly hand wave.

What a bit-

*tire screech*

In the end, he supposed it didn’t matter.

You’d been a pain in his side since you both started your degrees and it would be much easier to destroy you if you weren’t friendly.

Fine.

Fine.

Okay.

Good.

If it was a war you wanted it was a war you would get.

…

…

...

....but why hadn’t you talked to him?

Had he hurt your feelings?

Maybe he shouldn’t have told you that he hated you.

Well not that he hated you more like he just thought you were beneath him or something like...

He surmised that girls tended not to like when men told them they hated them.

He’d been rude.

But it wasn’t his fault...

After all, isn’t it rude to assume someone is in love with you?

Conceded at the very least.

He knew you were full of yourself, what with your hanging mirror key chain and selfie studded phone case, but that was just too far.

To assume that because someone didn’t like you...

They were in love with you?

You were clearly in the wrong field.

Yoongi must have scoffed out loud because Hoseok, whom had been the first of the Fr-

*gag*

Of the boys to show up, looked up from his pizza menu quizzically.

“What’s on your mind Yoongles?”

“For the millionth time, Hoseok-”

“I doubt it’s been a million times-”

“Please,” he sighed, “don’t call me Yoongles. My name is Yoongi... call me hyung if you want-”

Hoseok made a high pitched noise somewhere in the back of his throat and put a hand over his chest.

“I thought you would never ask!”

He launched himself across the table and wrapped his arms around his neck, his cheek pressed against him.

“Tha’usen’t a’question...”

it was then that two sets of footsteps neared their table near the back and Yoongi felt his cheeks burn.

“Get off me,” he said in a monotone voice, using his palm to push Hoseok’s face off of his.

Joon and Seokjin stood side by side watching the two sitting men with confusion written all over their faces.

“Okay who died,” Jin asked looking at Hoseok’s now down cast expression.

“My Love for Yoongi hyung,” he said melodramatically.

Yoongi rolled his eyes and scooted towards the end of the booth so Joon or Jin could slide in.

It was Jin that sat next to him.

Joon slid into the opposite side only for Hoseok to wrap himself around his strong arms.

“You love me don’t you Namjoonie?”

“Sure,” Namjoon said, patting his friend’s head.

Hoseok shot Yoongi a smug glare as if he was meant to be hurt by his actions but he couldn’t care less.

He shrugged.

Clearly not taking kindly to being ignored, Hoseok cleared his throat

“Keep your balls blue Hyung...”

Namjoon scrunched up his whole face and pulled his arm from Hoseok’s grasp.

“Dude,” he said, “we’re about to eat!”

“Where did that even come from,” Seokjin questioned, looking Yoongi up and down as if the answer was written on him.

“I have no idea,” Yoongi answered with a slightly embarrassed shrug.

“Yoongi hyung’s been muttering about that girl in his class for the last 10 minutes. My guess is he’s frustrated.”

Joon and Jin turned to look at Yoongi who looked at Hoseok disgustedly.

“How many times do I have to say that I DON’T like her?”

The three men blinked at him in confusion.

“When have you ever had to clarify that?” Namjoon asked with his eyes wide.

?

Ha-hadn’t he?

Yoongi realized his mistake.

He’d told you that.

Not the guys.

Well Fuck.

“I just meant that I shouldn’t have to clarify that.” Yoongi said, trying to ignore Seokjin and Hoseok’s excited looks.

“Don’t push my buttons,” he warned just as a waitress approached with a fake smile and tired eyes.

“We won’t,” Jin assured making Yoongi relax slightly.

Then under his breath

“Looks like someone else already is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Y/N,” Yoongi yelled after you as you hurried out of class.

You had a stack of books in your arms and your bag seemed extra heavy.

Your hair was pulled up and out of your face again.

You seemed to be in a hurry.

You didn’t stop. Maybe you hadn’t heard him.

He called out to you again but you seemed to be walking faster.

He sped up.

So did you.

“Y/N!”

But you didn’t slow and then you got lost in the crowd.

Yoongi stood in the middle of the sidewalk totally confused.

With a sigh, he walked back to his car and drove home for the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi grabbed your wrist loosely so that you could pull out of his hold if you wanted.

He didn’t wanna like...

Freak you out or something.

To his surprise, you didn’t pull away.

You stopped walking.

He had a whole speech planned out.

He’d written questions

He had his journal in his hand color coded and everything!

At Namjoon’s suggestion.

So why is it that now that he was looking into your eyes that he froze?

“Yes?” You asked with the most monotone expression he’d ever seen.

He opened and closed his mouth in confusion.

He looked like a fish out of water.

Why was he so thirsty?

He felt like he’d eaten a whole box of saltines.

As he looked at you he realized...

Had you always been this pretty?

He blushed profusely.

He let go of your hand.

He said nothing.

And now HE took off in the opposite direction.

See...

Yoongi wasn’t used to feelings.

As it was he didn’t even like the idea of calling the boys his...

Fr-

Frie-

*clearing throat* FrIEndS.

He’d never really had friends before anyway and he’d been just fine.

Feelings weren’t part of the equation ever.

It was business.

They were in similar classes and that was that.

So why did his hate for you, suddenly not feel so bad?

So heavy?

Why did Yoongi feel like he could fly?

Without thinking, he must have made it to the dorms because the next thing he remembered, he was standing before Seokjin’s door panting and sweating.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see both Joon and Hobi-

Hoseok

-in the room.

They looked at him expectantly.

Like they already knew what he was going to say.

But they couldn’t know.

Though... Namjoon was highly receptive. He had a way of reading Yoongi that he’d never considered and was always ready to listen. He’d always made time for him even when his perfectly made schedule didn’t match Yoongi’s request to meet up.

Hoseok smiles at him from one of the beds. His body was stretched out across Joon’s lap.

There was a little sun sticker on his nose and two stars on his forehead.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back.

Hoseok may be annoying but he sure as hell knew how to make Yoongi smile and forget his current situation.

“Yoongi?” Seokjin asked.

“Did you...” with wide surprised eyes, “run here???”

His perfect nose twitched in concern.

“Hey hyung,” Yoongi said with a tiny bow.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” he answered, clearly surprised at Yoongi’s honorific.

He opened the door wider and let the flushed man in.

The room was small.

It felt cramped with all four of them in there.

Especially with Namjoon’s long legs but no one mentioned it.

“Is something wrong hyung,” Namjoon asked with concern on his features.

Ugh. Feelings.

“I Uh- no...”

“You know,” Jin began closing the door and sitting on the bed opposite Joon and Hobi-

Hoseok.

“For a psychology major you really don’t do a great job of analyzing your own feelings.”

...

He had a point.

How was Yoongi supposed to help other people when he couldn’t even help himself emotionally?

He cleared his throat, realizing that they were all looking at him expectantly.

“This is a safe place hyung,” Hoseok said with a smile, sitting up as if this made it more official.

Yoongi has to admit...

his... friends...made him feel safe.

With a deep, pained breath, Yoongi began.

“You guys know that girl I’m always complaining about?”

“Your mortal enemy ™️ ?” Hoseok asked excitedly.

Like a puppy.

A cute puppy.

Yoongi smiled.

“Y/N... yeah... uh she’s been ignoring me lately.”

Seokjin places a hand on his shoulder so he would look at him.

“What did you do?”

Yoongi scoffed

“No-nothing! I didn’t... okay well I did tell her I didn’t really like her but I mean- it’s not like it was news? Isn’t it obvious I don’t like her?”

The room was dead silent.

Yoongi expected his friends-

Hey that was getting easier to think about-

-to instantly say that it was clear as day that he hated your guts.

Instead, all the boys, his friends, avoided his gaze.

“Isn’t it?” He pressed in concern.

“Hyung,” Namjoon began with a pained expression, “if I'm being honest... I always thought you had a crush on her.”

Wait what?

“Yeah,” Hobi joined in as soon as he realized he didn’t have to be the one to break the ice, “you’re always saying how intelligent she is. How you only associate yourself with her. Damn you barely associate yourself with us! The fact you want to speak with her is kind of huge!”

“But... but I- No! That’s only because I need someone to be partners with in class!”

“Then why,” Seokjin cut in, his voice firm, as if he had the winning argument and he knew it, “do you insist on talking to her outside of class all of a sudden?”

Yoongi was ready.

He opened his mouth ready to explain exactly why he wanted to speak with her after class when-

He had nothing.

Not one thing.

There should be no reason for him to want to speak with you outside of class.

He should only be putting up with your smart... cute...-

*bleh*

mouth in class.

He closed his mouth and looked down at his thighs.

“Dude... have you ever considered that maybe... just maybe... you hate her so much because you’re attracted to her?”

Yoongi looked over at Namjoon. His eyes were soft. It was just a question.

Namjoon would have made a good psychologist.

Yoongi thought back to all those times he’d been irrationally angry

Like that time he’d gotten a lower grade than you by one mark.

Or that time you had corrected him in front of the entire class when he had answered a question in class.

Or even recently, worse still, when you began to ignore him.

Under the anger were other feelings.

Pride.

Surprise in like a good way.

Hurt...

“Wait let me get this straight,” Yoongi said as his heart raced.

The boys waited with baited breath.

“You’re telling me that you think I’ve fallen in love with my self professed mortal enemy?”

Hoseok blinked at him then from out of nowhere, he pulled out a sticker sheet and peeled one off.

He aggressively placed what looked like a smiley face on his forehead.

“Gold star for hyung!”

“That’s not a star Hobi,” Namjoon said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well I don’t have any more stars! I only have smiley faces!”

Yoongi groaned, reaching up to pull the sticker off but one pleading look from Hoseok and he retreated.

Hobi smiled.

“ I don’t know if you’re in love per se... I think maybe you have a crush on her? It’s just always felt like behind all your complaining there was-“

“Love,” Hoseok interrupted.

Namjoon glared at him turning to look at him.

He was met with a little tree sticker on his nose.

Namjoon stared at it surprised and effectively shut up.

“Yoongi hyung’s in love,” Hoseok singsonged.

Yoongi felt his cheeks reddened deeply. He held his face in his hands to cover it up but his ears were a five away.

“Look how red he is!” Jin said beside him.

“Oh my God it’s true!” Hoseok said with a gasp.

“Do you really like her Yoongi?” Namjoon asked.

This was what hell was made of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was later that same day that you guys had class together again.

This time, Yoongi knew what he had to do.

When time was called for the class to be dismissed, Yoongi was prepared. He packed everything quickly and ran after you without calling out your name.

This way you couldn’t run.

Was that creepy?

That sounded creepy.

Anyway.

He tapped your shoulder and as if in slow motion you turned.

A pink aura surrounded you.

Your eyes sparkled.

Wow... you’re really pretty.

AND YOU WERE SPEAKING TO HIM.

Focus Min Yoongi!

“Wh-what?”

Smooth Casanova.

“I asked what you wanted.” You answered with a concerned expression.

“Oh... right,” Yoongi said, rolling his shoulders back and taking a deep breath.

“I just wanted to apologize.”

You raised your eyebrows,

Yoongi?

Apologize?

“For what?”

“For... for telling you I dislike you.”

“If I remember correctly, you mentioned contempt.” You said, your arms crossed but you didn’t seem mad. Just curious.

“Right. Well it was wrong of me to say. You are very smart and capable if it wasn’t obvious from our perfect score on the presentation.” He complimented

“Right, yeah, I know,” you said.

Silence.

“Well if that’s it then I have to go.”

Yoongi reached out for you, grabbing your hand with his much bigger one.

A fierce blush blossomed across his cheeks when u didn’t pull away.

It felt nice to hold your hand.

“I... I also wanted to say that...” this was it.

This was the movement everything changed.

Do or die.

Fight or flight!

“Yes?”

You knew.

He could tell in the way you smiled at him.

The way you raised a perfect eyebrow.

You knew.

It had come down to this.

Yoongi thought back to that day when you had first proposed the idea that he might well be in love with you.

And then he wondered…

Had you been ignoring him…

To prove a point?

It was a fact, psychologically, that distance made the heart grow fonder.

It wasn’t just a saying.

It was a genuine way for couples to appreciate what they had.

A common practice suggested by therapist.

Had you...had you just forced him to come to terms with his-

He cleared his throat.

“You... you were right... about um... your-your theory.”

He couldn’t look at you.

Yoongi was never one to show his true feelings.

Did he even have any?

...

But damn it they were bursting for his every pore at that moment.

He felt you take a step closer to him.

His heart stopped.

He looked up at you slightly.

You had a pleasant smile on your face.

You tightened your grip on his hand.

Your face was getting closer.

His blood pumped through his veins at inhuman speeds.

He could smell your summery perfume.

Your lips were inches away.

Yoongi has kissed girls before.

But something about the prospect of kissing you had him feeling like it was his first kiss all over again.

His eyes fluttered closed.

He puckered his lips.

But the kiss never came.

He opened his eyes only to see your face, still very close.

A smile on your mouth.

The mouth he thought should have been on his.

You reached up with your free hand and plucked something from his forehead.

You showed it to him.

The sticker.

Hoseok’s smiley face.

“You had this on your forehead,” you clarified.

He was mortified.

He’d forgotten...

“My friend....”

Friend.

:)

“My friend put it on me earlier and I guess I forgot about it....”

You shrugged, placing the sticker on his cheek instead.

“Cute,” you said before you got on your toes and placed a soft peck on the places you’d set the sticker.

How-

Did you just-

Was that-

You kissed-

“Do you maybe wanna get an ice cream? We can talk more if you’d like?”

Yoongi nodded dumbly, letting you lead the way.

You smiled up at him.

He smiled down at you.

He reached up and touched the sticker with tender fingers.

He’d have to thank Hoseok later.

Yoongi fucking loved stickers.

Masterllist

[broccoliboix5peepeeman]

hiii!!!! since you mentioned you were comfortable writing non-romantic stuff and the dekusquad- how about ochako and shouto bonding over mochi (and izuku huehue, but the izu thing is just a joke hehe) [ochako loves mochi a lot so she introduces shouto to all the different mochi types!] ALSO YOUR LAST PROMPT WAS SO AMAZING, I WAS IN TEARS THANK YOU FOR SERVING AS ALWAYS!!!!

Of course! Hope you enjoy :D (Also thank you so much, ohmigosh I’m crying) <3

Shoto stood in front of Uraraka's door, hugging his rolled up futon tightly to his chest.

Earlier that day, his friend had suggested that the self-proclaimed Dekusquad should have a movie night in her room as a reward for doing well in their latest English assignment. Initially, Shoto had been hesitant about the idea, but he quickly found that Midoriya could be very persuasive.

'Are you coming tonight, Todoroki-kun?'

'...' Shoto stared into his friend's wide emerald eyes. 'Yes.'

They had agreed to meet in Uraraka's room at 7pm, so naturally Shoto had been sure to arrive at exactly that time. However, when Uraraka opened her door, flashed him a bright smile and said that he was the first one to arrive, Shoto had been surprised, to say the least.

'Not even Iida?' He asked as he stepped into the room, looking around curiously. Admittedly, the decor was rather plain, but Shoto didn't mind. He never cared much for unnecessary luxuries anyway.

'Not yet!' Uraraka chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. 'Well, he was here, 16 minutes early to be precise, but then Deku-kun messaged to say that he was going to be late because of something to do with Bakugou destroying the washing machine, and when I told Iida-kun, he quickly left to see if he could be of any "assistance".'

Uraraka imitated Iida's hand gestures as she spoke animatedly; Shoto was impressed by the accuracy. 'And Tsu-chan is currently on the phone to her family, so it's just you and me for now.'

Her smile was warm and reassuring, although, if anything, Shoto felt incredibly uncomfortable at the prospect. It's not that he didn't like Uraraka - quite the opposite actually. He admired her greatly and treasured her friendship - it's just that they rarely spent time alone together. Usually, there was a third party present as well - mainly Midoriya - meaning that Shoto didn't have to do much active socialising on his end. Now though, as he shuffled on his feet in the middle of Uraraka's room, unsure of what to do with himself, he found himself starting to count down the seconds until the rest of their group arrived.

'Want me to help unroll your futon, Todoroki-kun?' Uraraka was suddenly at his side. 'We can figure out where you want to put it!'

Shoto nodded, mouth a thin line, and together they placed and unrolled the mattress. They mostly worked in silence - Uraraka occasionally humming some unknown tune to fill it.

Once completed, Shoto sat down on top of the covers, while Uraraka took her place on her own bed, rocking slightly as she continued to hum absentmindedly.

Shoto looked around awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact. He wanted to get out his phone and ask how long Midoriya would be, but he figured that would be rude. Uraraka was his friend; it wasn't her fault that Shoto was about as fun to talk to as his father at an All Might convention.

After several moments though, his friend jumped to her feet and stretched. 'You want a snack while we wait, Todoroki-kun?'

Shoto's eyes widened with delight at the prospect of food.

'Sure, what were you thinking?'

He watched, intrigued, as Uraraka bounced over to her desk and, after several seconds of searching, procured a glass bowl filled with different coloured balls. Shoto regarded the delicacy. He then blinked dumbly and looked up at Uraraka's excited face.

'How about some of the delightful Mochi I bought yesterday?' She grinned. 'They were on offer, so I got several flavours, which one do you want?'

'Er…' Shoto faltered and looked back at the bowl, lost. 'I don't know… I've never had Mochi before.'

'EXCUSE ME?!' Uraraka all but screeched, the volume making Shoto's eye twitch. 'Todoroki-kun, we have been friends for how long and you are ONLY JUST telling me this?!'

'You never asked before?' Shoto tilted his head to the side and furrowed his eyebrows together. 'Is that a bad thing?'

'Yes!!!' Uraraka exclaimed, waving her arms like an angry bird. 'It's a very bad thing!'

'Oh… Then I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.' Shoto hung his head, ashamed. He had no idea Uraraka felt this passionately about mochi. Were friends supposed to tell each other their dietary habits?

'Oh my poor, sweet, dense Todoroki-kun.' Uraraka crossed her arms and shook her head, all her previous outrage dissipating. 'Allow Uraraka Sensei to educate you.'

She skipped past Shoto, leaped onto her bed and patted the spot next to her. With significantly less energy, Shoto stood up from his futon and climbed onto the bed next to her.

Uraraka set the bowl down between them. 'Okay, tell me what you know about mochi.'

'Rice balls.' Shoto deadpanned.

'Rice balls-?!' His friend broke off and sighed to compose herself. 'Well, okay, fine. You are technically right. They’re rice cakes, but they're made with mochigome!'

'That makes sense.' Shoto did know about that, he had just never tried it before. When he was younger, he had been kept on a strict diet - although sometimes his mother would treat him to soba when his old man wasn’t around. As a result, he had never really had the opportunity to try mochi before.

'Good! Okay, so here are the ones I've got here.' She pointed to a pink ball wrapped in a leaf. 'This is sakura mochi! It has red beans in it and this is a sakura blossom leaf that’s wrapped around it.'

'Oh, I've seen those before during hanami.' Shoto spoke suddenly, surprising himself. Where had that come from?

Was he capable of feeding himself? Yes. Was being fed a little patronising? Maybe. Did Shoto care? Of course not. He was hungry.

'Yes! They're really popular during cherry blossom season!' Uraraka added happily, before taking one and holding it out to Shoto. 'Good job! Now, open wide!'

Shoto stared at her outstretched hand.

He shrugged his shoulders and complied, allowing Uraraka to shove the pink ball into his mouth. It was strange, but Shoto quickly found that he liked it. The saltiness of the blossom contrasted with the sweetness of the mochi, but in a good way.

'Mmm.' He voiced, chewing slowly while Uraraka watched him intensely. 'Not bad, I like it.'

At the proclamation, Uraraka let out a whoop.

'Yes! I just knew you'd like it!' She then scrambled to pick out another one. Eventually she settled on a white one. 'Okay, now this one is called daifuku mochi! It's stuffed with anko and is quite sweet!'

'I see.' Shoto said as he swallowed the last of the sakura mochi. He was then immediately bombarded by his friend's eager hand as she shoved the daifuku in his mouth without any prior warning.

Shoto choked slightly with surprise, eliciting a laugh from Uraraka. However, once he remembered how to breathe, he found that he liked this one a lot more.

'Mmm good.' He closed his eyes and nodded approvingly. 'Not soba-good, but good.'

'Hey, from Todoroki Shoto, I'll take that!' Uraraka beamed before popping one in her own mouth. She moaned happily at the taste and the two ate in comfortable silence, the awkwardness from before completely vanishing.

They continued testing out Shoto's reactions to the different flavours of mochi for several more minutes, until they were eventually interrupted by an enthusiastic knock at the door, followed by a stern discussion on the other side.

'Midoriya-san, please refrain from knocking so loudly.' Shoto could practically hear Iida's hands chop through the air. 'Other members of our class are-'

'It's open!' Uraraka interrupted, effectively saving their friend from a scolding when the door burst open and Midoriya jumped in, hands on his hips and a bright smile on his face.

'I am here- Oh! Hi Todoroki-kun!' Midoriya broke character to wave excitedly at Shoto, pink dusting his cheeks. 'Hi Uraraka-chan! I hope you guys weren't waiting too long!'

'Hi Deku-kun!' Uraraka smiled, before giggling at Shoto, who was frantically chewing on the last of the bota mochi she had given him before their friends had arrived.

'Good evening, everyone.’ Iida greeted with a bow. ‘Please pardon our tardiness. Midoriya-san and I ran into Tsu-san on our way to yours.'

'I wouldn't say run, kero.' Tsu placed a contemplative finger to her chin. 'Running in the dorms isn't allowed, Iida-kun. You should know this by now.'

Shoto snorted, while Uraraka's lip twitched with amusement.

'It's okay, Iida-kun! I was just introducing Todoroki-kun to the brilliant world of mochi!' She clapped her hands together and gestured to Shoto, who swallowed heavily, the lasting taste of mochi still on his tongue.

'Hi Midoriya, everyone.' He eventually mumbled.

'You two having fun without us?' Midoriya laughed with a playful wink.

'Indeed!' Iida agreed, straightening his glasses. 'I confess I thought you two didn't have much in common.'

'Well, now we have mochi in common!' Uraraka leant to the side and poked Shoto's cheek affectionately.

'And Midoriya-chan.' Tsu commented idly. 'You both like him, so you have that in common.'

'What?!' Midoriya squawked, while Uraraka gasped, affronted.

'Tsu-chan! You know that was ages ago!' Out of the corner of Shoto's eye, he saw Uraraka stick her tongue out, however, his gaze was still locked on Midoriya's bright red face. 

Uraraka continued. 'Sure I like Deku-kun but as a frien- Ah! Todoroki-kun!'

Shoto hummed in question as several pairs of eyes suddenly landed on him. 

'You're…' Midoriya started, slowly pointing to Shoto's hair. 'You're on fire!'

Without missing a beat, Shoto raised a hand to his head and extinguished the flame in one swift motion. A soft hiss filled the room and he shrugged his shoulders when his friends continued to stare at him quizzically.

'No, I'm not.’ Shoto finally mumbled. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.'

He was met with silence, before his friends suddenly burst out laughing. Shoto watched them, hoping his blush wasn’t too obvious. However, when his eyes landed on Midoriya and found his friend smiling warmly at him, Shoto’s own lips twitched upwards in response.

It felt nice, having friends who truly loved him.

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Talk Over Tea” || YEAR 3 – Ch.27 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 10/13/2020

Word count: 3, 283

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

Sorry about the late upload, my internet is practically nonexistent right now DX 

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“WHAT happened?”

Ron grinned at Heather as she sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. “I’ll tell it again. Gladly.” He stood up again and everyone around him leaned closer to hear his version of events one more time. “I was sleeping in bed when a weird noise woke me up. I sat up and then – SLICE – Sirius Black had split my curtains in two with a MASSIVE knife. There he was screaming over me yelling AAAAAAAAARGH – ” Ron towered over them like a scary bear with his claws out, “and seeing as I was awake and screaming too, he ran off.”

Everyone gasped and started whispering about how brave Ron was. Harry was looking uncomfortable, sitting beside Ron as he told the story over again to anyone who asked. Heather folded her arms. It was true what people were saying, about Sirus Black having broken in, gotten into the boy’s dormitories – INCHES from Harry – and had escaped again. But it didn’t make any sense.

“Ron! Tell it again for Sean!” A Hufflepuff came running down with his friend right behind him.

“Gladly.” Ron set down his fork over his cold eggs and stood up once more.

Heather rolled her eyes and pulled Harry up with her. They both walked down to where Hermione sat hardly touching her breakfast as she read, eyes darting left to right frantically.

“Hermione, what do you think of what happened last night?” Heather sat down in front of her. Harry drummed his fingers on the table and Heather pulled the book down to get her attention. “Hermione?”

She sighed. “What IS it? I’m studying! I have to read this by Monday and I have two hundred pages to read today!”

“Did you hear about what happened? To Ron?”

Hermione looked at Heather and glared towards Ron. “I heard. I’m glad he’s not hurt.”

“Same,” said Harry.

Heather nodded. “But it doesn’t make sense… Does it.”

“What doesn’t make sense? Sirius Black is a crazed maniac on the loose again. Everything he does is dangerous and insane, isn’t it?” Harry pulled a bowl closer and started scooping in some cinnamon porridge from a center pot. “Only I don’t see how he keeps getting past the dementors… Fudge was right about him being more dangerous than everyone thought and wrong about him seeming sane.”

“But that’s not what I’m getting at.” She pulled Hermione’s book back down to get her attention again. “He didn’t hurt anyone… And… Especially not you, Harry.”

They were all quiet as they thought over Heather’s words.

“Look,” Hermione pulled her book out of Heather’s hands. “I don’t know what Sirius Black was thinking, or why he didn’t just kill Ron and then Harry or whatever it is that mad man wants to do… That’s the business of Professor Dumbledore, the Ministry, and the dementors. That’s why Ron talked to them this morning and why they’re doubling down forces around here. What IS my business is finishing up this book and the essay that goes along with it so that I don’t have to drop this class.” Hermione propped her ‘Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles’ text book back up and flipped the page.

They sat in silence for the remainder of breakfast and ended up leaving Hermione and her unfinished porridge and dragged Ron off with them. They decided they were all still too shaken up about what had happened to Ron to do any homework and started walking around the castle where extra security was being put in.

They followed Mr. Filch around at a distance as he boarded up every crack in the stone walls, every mouse hole – to Mrs. Norris’ dismay – and almost every secret passage that the map showed; all but the one-eyed witch passage into Honeydukes. After being told off for snooping, they followed Professor Flitwick as he taught several of the large doors around the school to recognize a giant picture of Sirius Black.

Professor Flitwick liked the company and let them watch how he charmed two small but large-armed stone troll statues to guard the portrait of the fat lady. She had accepted guarding Gryffindor tower again after Sir Codegan had failed so horribly, demanding extra security measures be taken around her painting.

They sat in the corner of the courtyard looking over Harry’s firebolt, shining it with a clean rag, while Heather drew beside them on the ground. She was trying to get the right color of a small bird pecking at the grass growing between the stones when Harry spoke up, scaring it away.

“D’you think they really don’t know about the one-eyed witch statue? D’you reckon we should tell someone about it?”

Ron leaned in closer to the broom handle and breathed onto it, wiping away a smudge with the rag. “Nah. We’d’ve heard if Honeydukes had been broken into. Besides, no one but us knows about it. He doesn’t have the map.”

Heather was glad Harry was nodding, though she knew she should be the voice of reason right now. Of course they should tell Professor Dumbledore that the secret passage exists… but she’d just gotten to a very interesting part in the banned potions book and wanted to go into the apothecary in Hogsmeade to buy some ingredients for it. That and she wondered if the plant shop there had certain seeds she could grow in that charmed pot Hermione had got her. If the passage was sealed, then she wouldn’t be able to go into Hogsmeade until possibly next year… or whenever they finally caught Sirius Black.

A group of second year girls spotted Ron from across the courtyard and came running up to him, begging to hear the story from his lips. Ron blushed and began retelling it.

“Well… I was asleep and I heard a weird noise – a giant TEAR like a SLICE, and so I woke up realizing it wasn’t in my dream! I looked up and saw him… Sirius Black standing over me with his dirty long hair and a knife as long as my arm! He yelled – about to plunge the knife into my body – when I yelled and he SCAMPERED. Ran right out and escaped.”

The group of girls squealed and huddled together like a pack of scared sheep. They made their way back into the castle corridor, pleased to have heard it and waved goodbye at Ron with giggles.

“You know you tell it different every time?” Heather rolled her eyes and kept mixing more white into her dark blue water color.

“Well I don’t like remembering last night. I’m still scared about it. I almost died!” Ron let Harry take back his broom and crossed his arms. “Why though? Why’d he run off?”

“I’ve been thinking about that… About what you said, Heather.” Harry sat down next to her, followed by Ron. “Why did he run when he saw Ron and not just slice him up and then me and the others? Well I had my curtains pulled closed because of the moonlight that night, and so had Ron. So he had a half chance of getting it right and guessed. He saw it wasn’t me right away, got mad, and then Ron yelled. He must have gotten scared that Ron screamed and he knew people would be waking up, so he ran. I mean, it’d be harder to escape out the castle after everyone had been woken up – and running into the teachers and all that.”

They agreed with Harry on his take on what happened.

“Except… Ron didn’t you say Sirius Black screamed first?” She remembered a version of his story where he said Sirius Black had yelled angrily.

“I don’t remember much of how it all happened. I just try to tell it how I remember telling it to Professor Dumbledore.” Ron went a bit red but shook his head and went back to shining Harry’s broom with the servicing kit.

In the distance they saw Neville walking behind Professor McGonagall on their way to his detention. Apparently it had been Neville who had lost a slip of all of the secret passwords for the week, the very slip that Black used to get in. Whatever detention he’d been given was nothing to the one his grandmother was going to give him. The next morning he’d received a Howler and had seized it and ran with it out of the great hall at once.

It exploded out there and his grandmother’s voice could still be heard clear as crystal telling him about how he’d horribly dishonored his family and brought shame to them all. The Slytherin table was howling with laughter and Heather rolled her eyes at Draco who gave his best impression of Neville sprinting down the great hall with a howler cupped in his hands.

“Harry, you’ve got a letter too,” Ron pointed out.

Heather had just noticed Hedwig sitting patiently in front of them. “Oh, thank you Hedwig. Take my bacon.” Hedwig traded the letter for the bacon and flew back out the tall windows. “‘Dear Harry and Ron. How’s ‘bout seeing me this afternoon for tea ‘round six? Meet me by the castle doors. Wait for me inside the entrance hall. Inside by the doors. Not outside by the doors. Inside. Hagrid. Oh and Heather, come along too if you’d like. Cheers, Hagrid.’” She folded the letter back up. “What a strange invitation…”

Ron shrugged. “He wants to hear about Black from us. You weren’t there, Heather, which is why you were an afterthought. Don’t take it personally.”

The attention was getting to Ron’s head. Harry, however, took the note and pinched his lips closed, probably also noticing Hermione wasn’t invited. They both knew from previous Dursley experience – more precisely among Petunia and her group of wifely friends – what that meant.

Heather had finished her essays early and decided to meet Ron and Harry by the main stairs of the ground floor corridor and together they walked down to the entrance hall. Hagrid was already waiting for them.

“Hagrid! Want me to start telling the story? How Black almost attacked us but my scream drove him off?” Ron took the lead as they left the castle.

“I’ve ‘ready heard ‘bout that.” Hagrid didn’t look down at Ron and kept his eyes on his hut in the distance.

Ron fell behind and walked with Harry, crossing his arms. Harry looked at Heather and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

The air was cold but the grass was greener than it had been a month ago and the small buds that had been closed all winter long were now opening up wide. The lawn was looking shiny and glittery with dew drops and the flowers speckled the green with color. She remembered Professor Sprout saying how she didn’t care that the flowers were weeds, some weeds were pretty, even if Mr. Filch didn’t think so. Heather felt she was right. Flowers were flowers even if some called them weeds, and all flowers were pretty.

They entered Hagrid’s cabin and saw Buckbeak sleeping by the fire with a large plate of dead ferrets by his head. Fang was curled under one of the wings while the other was pulled tight around Buckbeak’s body for warmth. On Hagrid’s dresser door hung a large patchy, fur suit with a long orange and yellow tie draped over the shoulder.

Harry ran his hands down the matted fur and turned to Hagrid. “What’re these for?”

“Fer Buckbeak’s case. M’wearin’ that this Friday, tryin’ to look nice and what not. We’ll be goin’ down ter London on the Knight Bus together.” Hagrid motioned for Buckbeak.

Heather bit her lip. She’d completely forgotten they all promised to help Hagrid with his case. With Quidditch and the broom and the cat and matches and school, she hadn’t even thought of Buckbeak once. Harry pressed a hand to his mouth and Ron looked uneasy; they too had forgotten.

Hagrid offered them lumps of what looked like bread with berries baked inside and Heather accepted with the condition of warm tea to dunk it in. She knew it’d be hard as stone otherwise. They sat at the table and Heather dunked her berry bread in the tea when the moment had finally come

“Ron, Harry. Got somethin’ ter discuss with you two.” Hagrid looked at them both very seriously, which was uncharacteristic of him. He never looked too serious about anything, always preferring a lighthearted environment.

“Us two? But not with Heather?” Harry frowned.

“No. Not with Heather. YOU two. And yer behaviors these last several months.”

Heather crossed her arms and tried not to smile, covering her mouth with the tea cup instead as she sipped.

“About what?” Ron frowned as well.

“About Hermione and the way you two’ve been holdin’ grudges with her and even Heather.” Hagrid sighed. “Firs’ of all, Harry. She’s yer sister and when she fell of her broom yeh should’ve been there.”

She knew instantly that Hermione had been coming down to see Hagrid. Though she was even more confused now why Hermione had been telling her she didn’t have time to hang out. They could have both been coming down to see Hagrid and complaining about Ron and Harry together… Though maybe she came down during Heather’s practices? But she always said she was working on essays and studying arithmancy charts in the library during those times. Heather frowned into her tea. Hermione’s times weren’t adding up and haven’t been all year.

“And in case yeh also haven’t noticed. She’s been in a righ’ state ‘bout you two and a lot more. Comin’ down ter visit me fer a while now, talkin’ ‘bout feeling lonely. Firs’ you two weren’t talkin’ to both Hermione and Heather ‘bout the broom, an’ now yer not talkin’ to her because her cat – ”

“The one that ATE Scabbers!” Ron interrupted. “She won’t even apologize!”

“Well… And she’s been cryin’, yeh know. Things are seemin’ rough fer her at the moment. I think she’s bitten off more’n she can chew, all the work she’s doin’ – still found time ter help me with Buckbeak’s case even! She found some really good stuff fer Buckbeak… Could even stand a chance now I reckon…”

Harry looked at all the files and open books with marks and closed ones with little scraps sticking out in them. “We should’ve helped with that – Sorry, Hagrid – I – ”

“Oh, I’m not blamin’ yeh fer that. Merlin knows how busy yeh all are too, with Quidditch an’ school an’ classes. An’ Harry, you with far more than you should be dealin’ with.” Hagrid shook his head. “No, I ain’t blamin’ you fer that… Jus’ thought yeh two’d value yer friendship with Hermione more than brooms and rats… Jus’ not talkin’ to her is – ”

“Well she won’t apologize!” Ron insisted. “My pet is dead because she was careless and kept the door WIDE open for her cat to come in and eat him up – even though I TOLD her to be careful! If she just apologized and admitted her cat murdered Scabbers, then I’d talk to her again.”

“Well… some people can be downrigh’ foolish ‘bout their pets…” Hagrid tried to reason with Ron a bit more but it made no difference.

They spent the rest of their time with Hagrid talking about Buckbeak’s case. Hermione had done real thorough research and they agreed with Hagrid that Buckbeak did have a chance. At nine he walked them back to the castle and they waved goodbye to him.

“So are you going to talk to Hermione again then?”

Ron curled his fingers into a tight fist. “Maybe.”

“We should, I think.” Harry started up the stairs.

“Oh alright,” Ron gave up. He climbed the stairs higher and turned. “But on a trial bases.” He turned back and kept climbing out of sight.

Harry came back down and stood next to Heather. She hadn’t noticed until now that he was slightly taller than her. She looked at the top of his head and wondered how much was just hair. She didn’t want to be shorter, so maybe she should start stretching out her back with her exercises, or even just willing her body to grow more overnight. Anything.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t talking to you.” Harry crossed his arms. “Will you tell me next time you decide to tell on me?”

Heather smiled. “Yes. I’ll give you at least an hour’s warning so you can hide either yourself or whatever thing I’m having a teacher confiscate.”

Harry smiled and stuck out his hand. “Deal. But same goes for me…”

She took it and shook. “Fair.”

He looked into her eyes and hesitated for a second. “And no secrets?”

She looked around, confused by the question and why he was asking her that and quickly looked back into his eyes. She wanted to lie, open her mouth and say ‘deal’, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to tell him about going over to Draco’s house, and what she recently realized was the start of a friendship with him, so she just squeezed his hand tighter and shook it again, keeping her lips closed.

“Alright.” Harry let go and climbed the stairs. “Night!”

“Night,” she called after him.

She looked down at her hand and frowned. It wasn’t just Draco though… Was it? She had known about the map before him… She had broken into the library and not told him… She was keeping Professor Lupin being a werewolf to herself… She had Ministry banned books under her mattress and he knew nothing about that…

She started walking towards the dungeon stairs at the end of the corridor, keeping her eyes on her hand. What was the difference between a secret and just something personal? She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned a few corners to reach the entrance to the common room. She whispered the password and entered.

Her attention was drawn towards the group of students standing around the bulletin board. She walked over to Draco and sat next to him.

“Professor Snape’s just been in to pin up the next Hogsmeade trip.” He motioned behind him to the crowd without looking up from his book. “I’ll probably be going, most likely. That Sirius Black business might have made McGonagall forget about our detentions and I doubt Professor Snape will remind her. Especially since the Quidditch Cup is on the line.”

“Don’t remind me,” Heather groaned. “What’re you going to do about Harry? Has Marcus talked to you at all about it?” Draco was no match for Harry, even before the firebolt. Heather had worked hard to get him up to Harry’s flying level and the Nimbus two-thousand-and-one is a lot faster, making his jitters on it visible again. Of course she couldn’t mention any of that.

“No. He’s still upset about getting knocked back by Harry… What spell did he use anyways?”

Heather shrugged.

“Well you can tell Potter that I’ll hit him back with it harder.” Draco stood and placed the book back on the shelf next to the fireplace. “Maybe I’ll have Father send some books over.” He looked at her and smiled.

She rolled her eyes and headed into the girl’s dormitories for bed. She laid down and thought about Hogsmeade and about the books tucked under her mattress, about the potion and the recipe she had in mind. If by some miracle Harry decided not to go… then she wouldn’t either, and so it was up to ‘the Universe and Fate’ – as Professor Trelawney liked to say – if they stayed or went this weekend.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

                          Chapter List

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[yuh-kat]

Apathy

This is original writing by me. Do not repost it anywhere or claim it as your own, or legal action will be taken. <3

- Katsumi

“You’re capable of so much, why would you resort to this?” a shrill voice whined at Luella, gesturing towards her plagiarized history paper.

She groaned in response, burying her head in her hands, her unruly brown hair tickling her nose. She would have rather been anywhere but there. She looked up at the guidance counselor, realizing the question hadn’t been rhetorical.

“I got bored,” she grumbled. The counselor gave an exasperated sigh and turned back towards her laptop, scanning over the essay.

“You didn’t even try. This is straight from wikipedia,” she sighed disappointedly.

“I clicked on the first website that came up when I googled the topic,” Luella said, shrugging.

“Is something going on at home?” the counselor said, swiveling her chair around towards Luella.

Luella’s face began to twist, and the guidance counselor turned around to grab some tissues, preparing for the onslaught of tears she believed was coming. Not one tear fell from Luella’s copper eyes. Instead, a smile crept its way onto her face, eventually evolving into sinister giggles. The counselor ignored Luella, and continued.

“Are you a danger to yourself or anyone else?” the counselor asked dryly, clicking her pen.

“Do you actually know how to do your job or do you just recite some random questions you found on Web MD?” Luella snickered, placing her hands behind her head. 

Although she was very irritated by Luella’s snarky response, the counselor again exercised self restraint and ignored her, trying her best to keep her composure.

“Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” the counselor continued, twirling strands of her limp blonde hair around her long, pale finger.

“Does being American count?” Luella responded, picking at her nails. The guidance counselor let out a frustrated sigh, scratching at her blonde locks.

“Luella, seriously, what seems to be the problem?” the guidance counselor started, “Your behavior has been nothing short of deplorable this year.”

These words seemed to vex Luella, and she let out a sarcastic chuckle, almost like she couldn’t believe what had just been said. She brought one of her fingers to the underside of the counselor’s chin, tilting her head up so that they were making direct eye contact. The counselor swiped at Luella’s hand, but she didn’t move an inch.

“What seems to be the problem?” Luella repeated. “Hmm, let me give that some thought,” she said, removing her finger from the counselor’s chin. 

Luella got up out of her chair, pacing back and forth, feigning deep thought. When she was done, she sat back down and turned to face the flustered counselor.

“You, for one. The naive belief you have that your four half-assed years of studying psychology in college prepared you for this job. The dumb, optimistic way you view the world. Even the way your hair falls flatly around your face pisses me off. We’re expected to come to you with our issues, but just from the look you’re giving me right now, I can tell that you have no idea what you’re doing here. You can’t handle anybody’s trauma. You should quit now, marry rich, and have four fat ugly babies with your mildly abusive husband. Maybe then you’d have a fragment of an idea of how to approach this job,” Luella says, her eyes boring into the counselor’s.

The counselor was silent for a second, taken aback by Luella’s words. The anger was visible in her eyes, yet her lips formed a tight and strained smile. Luella smiled back at her. “I’m not sure what more I can do to help you,” the counselor said, tapping her fingers against her knee.

“Good thing I didn’t want your help in the first place,” Luella replied, grabbing her backpack from the floor and tossing it over her shoulder.

“Before you leave, you should know that your parents will be notified about your actions and you will most likely serve at least a two week suspension,” the counselor said, facing away from Luella. Luella smiled. “All that means is two weeks less of me seeing you and every other loser in this shithole,” she said, yawning loudly and stretching her arms. 

“Have a nice evening, Luella,” the counselor said unfeelingly, scrolling through her phone. Luella rolled her eyes at the counselor’s fake politeness.

Luella walked out of the guidance counselor’s office coolly, the conversation she just had already a distant memory. Her sweatpants hung low around her thin waist, gently rubbing against her dirty white sneakers. Her curly hair fell at her shoulders, slightly uneven in places where she had impulsively trimmed it the week before. Her beautiful bronze skin was the only colorful thing about her. She walked down the empty hallway towards the school building’s exit, wearing a dead expression on her face. 

When she reached the door, she observed the sun beginning to set. The sun’s bright rays hit her, and she stared directly into them, almost challenging the sun to try and blind her. She descended the school steps and began walking home. As she was about to round a corner, she heard a voice call out breathlessly to her. “Ella!” 

She turned around, and a smile threatened to appear at the corners of her mouth when she saw Kylen running after her. He wore a big, stupid grin that caused a slight blush to creep up on Luella’s cheeks. His shaggy brown hair bounced as he ran, his footsteps almost matching Luella’s accelerating heartbeat. When he finally reached her, he encased her in an all consuming hug.

“Get off me, idiot,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. He laughed and pulled away from her.

“Why are you at school so late?” he asked, cocking his head.

“I left a book in my locker,” Luella said, the lie smoothly leaving her lips.

“Oh, well can I walk you home?” he asked.

“You’d do it even if I asked you not to,” she replied, pushing him playfully.

“This is true,” he replied, pushing her back. A giggle left her mouth, and her face heated up at his touch. “Haven’t heard you laugh in awhile. I missed it,” he said. Immediately, her dead expression returned, but butterflies were swarming her stomach, the heat in her cheeks increasing with each second she spent near him.

They walked for awhile in silence, Kylen appreciating the beauty of the sunset and Luella appreciating Kylen’s presence. The trees blew in the late-autumn wind, and Kylen stared in awe at the changing colors of the leaves. He picked up a reddish leaf and held it to Luella’s face. She stared at him, a confused look crossing her face.

“The color matches your eyes,” he said, placing the leaf in her hand.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she replied, turning away slightly to hide the smile she knew she couldn’t suppress.

The silence returned, and they continued their walk, but Kylen seemed jittery. Luella tried her best to ignore him until he began fidgeting with his bracelet, at which point she decided to speak up. “What is it?” she said gruffly, putting her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. He sighed, and looked at her. “I need to tell you something,” he said. She knew what was coming. She’d been waiting so long to hear these words.

“I-,” he started. 

“I do too,” she said, cutting him off. He gave her a look of bewilderment, and looked down when he finally caught on to what was happening. “What do you look so confused for?” she said, awaiting his confession.

“Luella, I-” he began.

“You never call me that,” she said, dread starting to set in.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m dating Lorelei. She’s the blonde girl in our physics cla-”

“I know who she is,” Luella snapped.

“Ella, please don’t be upset. I didn’t know you felt this wa-”

“Does it change anything?” she asked, her voice breaking a little.

“Ella-” “Does it?!” she screamed.

“No,” he said softly, looking at the ground.

“I’ll walk home on my own,” Luella hissed.

“It’s dangerous! Haven’t you heard about the murders? You’re my best friend and I-”

“Go home,” Luella whispered.

“Luella, please-”

“Kylen, go home,” Luella spat. He looked at her apologetically, taking her hands in his. She flinched at his touch, pulling her fingers out of his hands. “Don’t touch me,” she said, storming away from him.

“I love you, Ella,” he said. She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping her head around.

“How?” she asked, her voice low.

“You’re my best frien-”

“Goodbye, Kylen,” she said, turning back around and continuing towards her house.

“Ella, please, it’s dangerous,” he retorted, worry present in his voice.

She ignored his words and raced as fast as she could away from him. When she turned a corner and could no longer see him, she stopped running and put her hands on her knees, her head hanging towards the ground. Her breath escaped her in shallow, ragged pants. She willed the tears to come, but they never did. The only emotion she could feel was white-hot anger, the desire to beat something until it bled. She punched the telephone pole in front of her, and blood trickled slowly down her knuckles.

“FUCK!” she screamed at nobody, clutching her bloody fist. When the pain subsided, the desire to hurt returned.

She kicked and punched at the telephone pole, wishing it were Kylen. Her feet and fists stung, but nothing compared to the pain of Kylen’s rejection. What did Lorelai have that she didn’t? Why wasn’t she good enough for him? The memory of her conversation with the guidance counselor returned, and the intensity of her blows to the pole increased as she remembered the counselor’s failed attempt at helping her. Blood ran down her arms, staining her sweatshirt, but she took no notice.

She continued on walking as if nothing had happened, concealing her bloody hands in her sweatshirt. When she arrived at her house, two cars sat in the driveway, and she realized with dread that her father had come home early from work. She unlocked the door, and swung it open. Her parents sat at the kitchen table, their eyes shooting up to meet her eyes as she walked into the house.

“What?” she said nonchalantly, tossing her backpack onto the floor and plopping herself into the chair across from them. “What?! What!?” her father said in disbelief, rising from his chair. “Ledger, sit down,” Luella’s mother whispered to him, trying to calm him down.

“Your school called to let us know that you plagiarized your history paper. Is this true?” her mother asked her softly.

“Yup,” Luella said.

“Why would you do that?” her mother asked, disappointment visible on her face. “It was a boring topic,” Luella shrugged. Her father was seething, and her mother rubbed his shoulder to calm him again.

“That’s not how you were raised,” her mother said, slightly annoyed by Luella’s tone.

“Sometimes shit doesn’t work out,” Luella responded, spreading her legs and leaning back in her chair.

“WATCH YOUR MOUTH!” her father bellowed, enraged by her filthy mouth.

Luella laughed, throwing her head back, further provoking her father. He pushed his wife off of him and ran over to Luella, pushing her off of her chair and slamming her to the ground. Her mother yelped in shock, afraid for her daughter.

“DISRESPECT IS NOT TOLERATED HERE. IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE ACTING LIKE THIS, YOU CAN LEAVE!” he shouted in her ear, spitting on her face. She grinned. “Then get off of me,” she wheezed.

“What did you say?” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I’ll go,” she choked out.

“No!” her mother screamed from the other side of the room, too petrified to step in.

Luella’s father released her from his grip, and she rolled onto her side, coughing as she tried to catch her breath. Her father walked towards his office.

“You’re no daughter of mine,” he said. Her mother’s eyes darted back and forth, panic setting in.

“He doesn’t mean that, he’s just upset,” she said, whispering so that he wouldn’t hear her.

Luella scoffed. “Yeah, okay,” she said, taking her hands out of her sweatshirt to put her hair up.

Her mother’s eyed widened. “What happened to your hands?” she asked, her voice almost a whimper.

“I got in a fight.”

“With who?”

“A telephone pole.”

Luella went upstairs to take one last look at her room, the hot pink walls contrasting the blackness stirring inside of her soul. She left without grabbing any necessities. She didn’t say goodbye to her mother. She walked out of the door, and never looked back.

Luella went on walking for some time before she came upon a park. Memories of her playing there with Kylen surfaced, but her anger had been completely exhausted. All that remained was apathy. She sat in the swing, kicking her legs to swing herself higher and higher upwards. When she reached the highest she could possibly go, she jumped off of the swing, landing with a thump on the woodchips. She was about to mount the merry-go-round when the hiking path caught her eye. Memories of jogging with her parents on humid summers flooded her mind, but she ignored them, walking onto the path.

The sun had completely set, but Luella remained, walking through the forest. The temperature began to drop rapidly, but Luella did not notice. Her mind was completely blank. She just continued on walking. After a few minutes of walking, she impulsively pulled out her phone and saw missed calls from her mother and from Kylen. She ignored these almost instinctively, and instead began scrolling through the rest of her notifications. A headline flashed at her.

Murder strikes again. Victim is 17 yr. old Ekaterina Petrov.

She turned off her phone and continued walking further into the forest. After a few hours of walking, she grew tired. She laid down in a pile of red leaves, remembering the one Kylen had given her just hours earlier. Sleep tempted her tired body, and she gave in. Luella did not dream. She did not think. She only slept.

Her phone emitted a loud, siren-like noise, causing her to wake up violently. The leaves rustled as she moved to grab her phone. The notification sat in front of her.

Murderer identified: David Hanley, 51. Last seen on Hemlock Hiking Trail.

The very trail she sat on. Luella laughed loudly, cackling like a hyena.

“What are the fucking odds?” she whispered to herself, remembering Kylen’s warning.

She slowly got up, yawning and stretching upwards, the moonlight hitting her. She continued on walking through the forest, the leaves crunching under her feet. She examined the dried blood on her fists and remembered how it got there, chuckling. As she was walking, she could almost swear she heard footsteps behind her, but she ignored it, not caring enough to investigate. She kept on, but when she felt someone step on the back of her shoe, she turned around.

He had her pinned to a tree before she could even so much as think. His knife was at her throat. 

“Any last words?” he asked, foul breath filling Luella’s nostrils. She smiled at him.

“I think they’ve found you, David,” she said, howling sinisterly. He pushed the knife against her harder.

“I said, any last words, bitch?” he repeated, and her laughter only increased in volume.

“Hide my body where they’ll never find me. That’s all,” she said calmly. He looked at her like she was crazy. He pressed the knife even harder against her throat.

“You serious?” he said, his voice raspy. She rolled her eyes at his hesitance.

He had unintentionally loosened his grip when he decided she wasn’t a threat. She grabbed the hilt of the knife and reversed it, swiping wildly at him, ultimately slicing his throat. The blood spurted everywhere, coating her face and clothes. When the blood stopped spraying, she wiped her mouth.

“There isn’t room for weaklings in this forest,” she said.

She turned around, knife in hand, and began walking to Kylen’s house.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Confessing the truth to the rest; Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Okay gang so here is the first filer chap. of my Rock Angel series. This oneshot takes place right after Protective Taylor which you can read on the link for the title. I hope you all enjoy this little filer and I hope to have the next chapter up sometime soon as soon as I’m done with school and finally graduate. It maybe another filer chapter where reader meets Jack’s family over their first Christmas not only with each other but as a couple. 

Anyways so if I had to express any warnings it’d be mentions of abuse (just mentioned not really detailed but it’s mostly verbal and a bit physical but not on the reader), parent deaths, graveyards/cemetery, angst, FLUFF.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@ixchel-9275​

@waddles03​

@platawnic​

@queendeakyy​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@mr-badguymercury​

@naturalswifty89​

@kairosfreddie​

@starswin​

@dj-lowkey​

@isabella-bby​

@labessieisallama​

@geek-and-proud​

@5sos-wdw​

@bohemiansweede​

______________________________________________________

It was almost a week since I had told Roger the truth about my parent’s death and what my real homelife was like before I got the internship with the guys.  And I was so fortunate that he kept the secret like he promised, if ever the other three wanted to bring the conversation back to what happened a week ago, Roger would redirect the question back to a song they needed to work on or just tell them straight forward to drop it.

I was currently finishing up some of Miami’s papers that needed his attention and was about to head on up to his office to give them to him, when I felt Roger wrap his arms around me from behind in a hug.

“Hey Rog.” I said.

“Hello lovie.” I felt him kiss the back of my head. I turned towards him and he rubbed my arms up and down. “I’m sorry about the interrogation earlier, I tried to get Brian to drop it—”

“It’s okay. Though couldn’t you have gone a little less protective?”

“Hey. No one tries to interrogate my girl but me.”

“Oh and why must it be you that can only do that?”

“Well isn’t it obvious? You’re an official Taylor. And if my sister can be interrogated by me, than so can you.” As he said the last part of his ‘royal decree’ he gently bopped my nose with his index finger.  I smiled up at him and he grinned down at me.

It was then I also began to notice that Roger had that solemn look in his eyes.  The look that just showed he was hiding a heartbreaking secret.

“And……I know what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?” he sighed and said.

“Come with me.”

“But I—I need to get these papers up to Miami before he flips.” He took them and called for another assistant to come and take care of it. Before I could protest, he took my hand and guided me over towards the wreck room and we went inside a pantry closet. “Uhh Rog, why did you bring me to a pantry closet?”

“Sorry, it’s the one place I knew where we’d be private when I tell you this. Because—not even the boys know about this. Not Deacy, not Brian or even Freddie.”

“Roger what is it you’re scaring me.” I asked worriedly. He took a deep breath in before exhaling out.

“I know—what it’s like. To be on the opposite end of—an abusive family figure.” No, not him.

“You—you mean you were……”

“My old man was—strict. About everything. What he wanted in life, how the house should be done, how his children should behave and act. He was more like a drill sergeant than a father. Most of it was directed at my mum. Mostly verbal stuff like your aunt and uncle did to you. But get a drink in him and he—” I immediately hugged him.

God never, ever, ever, ever did I think in a million years that the Roger Taylor, drummer of Queen, Mr. Too beautiful to be a man, was just like me.

A victim of domestic abuse.

“I’m so sorry Roger I—I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can say lovie. But I do appreciate the gesture.” He said as he hugged me back and squeezed me as emphasis on what gesture he meant.  “Once my mum filed for divorce I knew we were finally free of his control. Back then I—thought I was the only one who went through shit like this. That something had to be wrong with me for this abuse to happen to my family. But then meeting you, and Prenter forcing you to see our expressions as he told us your family secret……..”

“For years I’ve been trying to turn myself into their puppet. To perform the way they wanted me to. But even when I thought I succeeded, I didn’t succeed by their standards. I felt so alone after my parents died, they never once comforted me after it happened. In fact my aunt said she was glad to hear that her sister died, said it would teach her a lesson.”

“Who the fuck says that to a child?” he snapped.

“I wish I knew Roger. It was hell living with them. And when they kicked me out after I told them what I really wanted to pursue in college I—I thought from then on in I would be alone.”

“Well you’re not. Because you’ve got me. And Freddie, Brian, Deacy, Miami, our wives. You’re now family to us (y/n). From the day you walked in those doors and we saw you playing the piano, you became family to us.”

“Thank you Roger. You guys—are my family too.” He smiled and he leaned his forehead against mine and gave my nose a gentle kiss which made me smile wider.

After having our special little talk, Roger and I walked out and that’s when I said.

“Hey Rog.”

“Hmm?”

“Since you guys are now technically done with the album, do—do you think you and the rest of the guys could come meet me at my place?”

“I’m sure we could. What’s the occasion love?” he asked.

“I think it’s time they knew. But I—I also wanna show you guys…..where they’re buried.” Roger’s eyes widened softly and he said.

“(Y/n)…..love you don’t have to—”

“I want to Roger. I—I need to get this off my chest once and for all. I mean it’d be unfair for just you to know the real truth and let the other three be kept in the dark. Especially if Paul tries to blab about it again in front of them.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am Rog. Promise you’ll back me up in case things get—you know.” He smiled and wrapped an arm around my neck pulling me close.

“Of course lovie. We’re family.”

“Thanks Roger.” I said with a soft smile.  He nodded to me and pressed a kiss on top of my head.

“What time shall we come over?”

“Probably 8-9am. It’ll be a 2 hour drive so the sooner we leave, the less likely we’ll be stuck in traffic on the way there.”

“I get it, autumn traffic is a bitch.” So after that, we headed back towards the recording room and I helped the boys finish up the rest of their album and soon the day ended there.

The next morning, I was eating some cheese on toast when I heard the doorbell ring right at 8:30.  I took a few more bites and headed over to the door to see Brian at the door.

“Hope we didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“No, just finishing up breakfast.” I said as I took the toast out of my mouth.

“Well we can come back when it’s convenient for you love, you know we don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, no, no it’s fine. Like I said I’m almost done. Give me about five minutes okay?” he nodded and I asked him if he wanted to come in and he accepted the offer.  While I went back to the kitchen to clear off my plate, I saw Brian in the foyer looking at all the pictures of me, Adam and a few of our friends.

“You know I never really did ask you (y/n), what exactly are you studying in University?”

“Mostly songwriting and music accompaniment. I wanted to get a better understanding of what it took to make a song and how to choose the perfect accompaniment based on the song you’re writing.” I answered as my plate was finally clear and I ran it under the tap in the dishwasher.  “And what of you Bri? I mean I know you were a scientist of some sort.”

“Astrophysics actually.” He corrected me.

“Oh right sorry. Now didn’t Freddie once say in an interview that your thesis was on stardust or something?”

“Interplanetary stardust. I wanted to prove whether the motion of dust was responsible for zodiacal light.” Damn. No wonder why he’s the clever one and always wins at the Scrabble games while on the tours or on breaks during rehearsals.

“Impressive. Guess that makes you the clever one out of the other four then?”

“Yeah I suppose it does yeah.” He teasingly bragged which made me roll my eyes and giggle as I put my dish in the dishwasher with the other dirty dishes.

“Okay, now let me make a quick note to Adam.” I took one of the post-it notes and quickly wrote down where I would be for most of the day. And to remind him that it was his turn to start the dishwasher and take out the garbage and to NOT. FORGET. IT this time. “Okay that’s it. Shall we head out?”

“Ladies first madam.” He said gesturing to the door. I playfully curtsied and the two of us walked out of my apartment.  I locked it up and we walked down the steps and across the short walkway till we reached the car.  I sat in the back with Freddie and Roger while Deacy was at the wheel and Brian sat in the passenger seat.

“So (y/n), where to now?”

“Glenfield, Leicester.” It was at that point I saw Deacy look at me through the rearview mirror.

“Glenfield? Why there?”

“Well that’s—where I was born.”

“Unbelievable.” He muttered.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s just 20 minutes from where I was born and raised. Oadby.”

“Really?” I asked amazed.

“Well my darlings it seems as if you both were meant to meet each other. Two Leicestershire siblings coming together at last.” Freddie proclaimed dramatically.

“I must say though (y/n), for someone who was born there, you don’t quite have Deacy’s accent.”

“Well believe it or not lads. While I was there no one else spoke like me.” Deacy stated as he began to drive off.

“Yeah you’re a special case, but we love you anyways Deacy.” I said reaching over and kissed him on the cheek and patted his shoulder.

As we drove onwards, Roger was twirling his drumsticks while making up a random drumbeat.  Freddie was working on a new sketch, I was listening to my Walkman which was playing a mixtape one of my friend’s made for me and the song that was playing now was Rubberband man, and Bri was doing a crossword puzzle.

“So darling why make us go all the way to Glenfield?” asked Freddie as he looked at me. I removed my right headphone aside asked.

“What was that Fred?”

“I asked why are we heading all the way to Glenfield?”

“Well I—uhh…..Just thought you’d all kinda like to see where I grew up.”

“I wouldn’t mind that. Maybe we could even meet your parents.” Stated Brian. At that point I saw the glare behind Roger’s shades but before he could do anything, I stopped him and I said.

“Possibly. I just—hope you guys are ready.”

“Any parent who could raise such a clever, intelligent and strong young woman must be equally strong and determined. I’ve actually been waiting for the day to meet the lovely darlings.” Freddie said as he softly nudged my arm.

“Yeah.” I said solemnly.  I felt Roger take my hand and I looked up at him.  He lifted my hand up and kissed my palm and pressed it to his chest over his heart.  From that point the conversations died down after that, probably from either sensing my depressing mood, or fearing the angered look in Roger’s eyes that hid but they could feel behind his shades.

After over 2 hours of driving, we finally arrived at my childhood hometown.  The place I hoped that I would never see again ever since my aunt and uncle kicked me out of the house.

“Okay so, where exactly do you want to go first?” asked Deacy.

“Can we drop by the flower shop? Go down this street and at the third stoplight, take a right.” I told him the directions and Deacy willingly followed.  Once we reached the stoplight and Deacy made the right, I told him to go straight till we reached Lennon Dr. to the left, then another right until finally we reached Ms. Viola’s flower shop and bouquet.

“Any reason why we’re here first love?” asked Brian.

“All will be explained soon enough. For now just stay in the car. I’ll take care of everything here.” Roger then opened his door and got out first before helping me out and then hopping right back inside the car.  I walked towards the shop and took a deep breath in before exhaling out and finally entering the flower shop.

And boy it hadn’t changed a bit.  Various of flowers and plants hung and were displayed everywhere.  Bags of fertilized soil were packed up in the corner of the shop inside some containment shelves.  And there at the front desk with her now long graying hair was Ms. Viola’s.

“How can I help—(y/n)? Little (y/n) (l/n)?”

“Hey Ms. Viola, long time no see huh?”

“Oh honey come over here and give us a kiss.” I walked over to her and she gave me a big hug and a kiss.  “Oh you’ve gotten so big since I last saw you, how have you been?”

“I’ve been—okay. I’m sorry I hadn’t visited the shop lately.”

“I know honey, Mr. Issacs told me what your uncle and aunt did. I never did trust them, but never did I think they’d do something like that to you.”

“Yeah well they’re radical thinkers, only want the most money and to be the perfections of high society.” I bluntly stated.

“So—the usual arrangements?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and then prepped my usual bouquet of yellow carnations and lilies. “The usual payment?”

“Actually, this one’s on me.”

“No I—I couldn’t do that to you.”

“(Y/n) it’s been years since I’ve seen your face in this town. Please take the offer and think nothing else of it. Next time you come around, you can pay me then.” I softly smiled and said.

“Thank you.” I nodded goodbye to her and she waved bye to me as I left the shop.  Freddie opened the door for me and I came inside.

“Oh darling yellow carnations. What’s the occasion?” asked Freddie as he took one of the carnations out of the bouquet and admired it.

“Head back the same way we came but instead take the left at the second light. And head on down to Hoover St.” I simply said. Deacy nodded and proceeded to drive on ahead.  About 10 minutes later we finally arrived at our destination.

GLENFIELD PUBLIC CEMETARY.

“Uhh (y/n)?” Brian started.

“Brian don’t.” Roger snapped firmly.  He then opened his door once again and helped me out of the car.  Deacy shut off the engine and soon the rest of the guys followed and I led them inside the cemetery.

We walked along the cobbled stone path further and further passing grave after grave till finally I saw the two familiar graves standing side by side each other pass the old willow tree.  I walked up first wiped the leaves away from the tombstones that had my parent’s named engraved in plaques.  Then I set the lilies down by my mother’s grave and the yellow carnations on top of my father’s.

“(Y/n) darling, are—are you okay?” Freddie asked concernedly.

“The real reason why I brought you guys all the way here is so that I could tell you the real truth about the girl you’ve allowed in your circle.” I stood up and walked behind the two gravestones and said. “Queen, This was my mum (m/n) (l/n) and my dad (f/n) (m/n) (l/n). They both died in a car accident one rainy night on April 16th, 1970.”

At that confession, all but Roger were stunned and I saw that familiar look of sympathy shining through their eyes.

“(Y/n) I—I’m so sorry. Had I know that—” Brian said.

“But you didn’t. So there’s nothing you need to apologize for Bri. I—didn’t want any of you guys to know where I came from. What my life has been like, but now—after what happened last week I’m ready.” At that point Roger came towards me and took my hand in his and gave it a gentle and comforting squeeze.  

“You mean the incident with Paul?” asked Deacy.

“Yes. What I’m sure roger probably expressed his anger about towards Paul, it—it was true.”

“So—”

“Guys let her fully explain. Don’t interrupt her, it’s hard enough to let her relive it as it is.” Roger spoke defensively.

“It’s okay Roger. No need to get hissy with them.” I assured him as I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb trying to relieve him of his anger.  “My parents were—the kindest, most strong people I ever knew. They loved music so much that they themselves tried to make it big. But all they could afford was pub gigs and small gigs at hospitals or openings. When they had me they—kept up their work but of course it didn’t always pay the bills, so they had to work real jobs at either a coffee shop, restaurant or the library. Well…..when I was 8 years old, they went for a drive to their first official gig they hadn’t had in years since I was probably 4-5 years old. It…..was pouring down so hard they could barely see the road and they…..didn’t make it to the hospital to be saved. They were pronounced DOA.”

I took a shaky breath in as I tried to keep the tears at bay until I got through everything.

“After the funeral, I was taken into the custody of my aunt Johanna, my mum’s older sister, and uncle Graham. And they—were the absolute worst people to ever walk the planet. Every day was a living hell. They verbally abused me, told me that I was worthless and that I would never amount to anything. Even when I thought I had succeeded like graduating secondary school with a 3.50 average, they still saw me as a failure because I didn’t graduate as Valedictorian or get a straight up 4.00 with the highest level of my grade. But the worst thing was when I told them what I planned on studying at University……I……they kicked me out.”

“They what?!” all three of them chorused out.

“When I said I wanted to study music, they were beyond pissed. We fought for hours and hours on end till it was dark. Then next thing I knew, my uncle packed all my things and tossed them out before he and aunt Johanna both said ‘get out of our lives you witless bitch! And never do we want to see your face again!’. So I—bought myself a ticket and came all the way up to London and struggled to find a housing. I had no support from them throughout my first year of university. But then again I never wanted their help even if they offered. But for nine years I struggled with depression and self-confidence because of everything they’ve said to me for over a decade of living with them.”

I don’t know when exactly it must’ve started, but I felt tears dripping down my face.  I wiped them away from my face and held in a sob.  That was until I felt Roger bring me close to him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried myself into his chest.

“Then last week Paul had to reopen those wounds when he went through her files and somehow got her aunt’s and uncle’s phone number and told them about this internship.” Roger explained as he rubbed my arm comfortingly.

“That son of a—” Brian started out with a huff.

“Next time I see him I’ll wrangle his neck with my bass strap.” Threatened Deacy.

“Darling we are so sorry. I’ll talk to Paul about it tomorrow when we get back into the studio.”

“It’s alright guys.” I sniffled.

“Are you sure love?” asked Deacy.

“Yes.” I then gently got out of Roger’s embrace and wiped my tears away and took a few deep breaths.  “But can I ask something of you four?”

“Yeah. Name it poppet.” Said Brian.

“For years not only did I have to deal with the abuse from my aunt and uncle, I also had to deal with my friends and random strangers giving me sympathy. Everywhere I went, they always went ‘oh there’s poor (y/n). Treat her specially, poor dear lost her parents she did’. After a while I got sick of it. That’s why I didn’t want you guys to know because I refused to be given sympathy when they don’t know how I feel. So please guys, if any of you fuss about me or look at me differently, or worse of all give me more sympathy then you’re just wasting your time. Because all I want to do is help you guys make your music with the time I have for this internship.”

They nodded in agreement.

“Done.” Freddie said.

“And—even though you said you don’t want to be given sympathy, can we—still give you a hug?” asked Roger.  I smiled and said.

“From you guys? Anytime.” And it was then the guys came up to me and had me in the middle of a group hug.

Being surrounded by warmth, love and support from 4 rock gods was something I never thought I would happen to me, but I’m honored they were and are willing to give me the support and love I needed.

Feeling their hands gently ruffle or pat my head, rub my shoulder and back, and feeling the occasional kiss or two.

“I love you guys.” I said as I smiled and a tear of happiness fell from the corner of my eye.

“We love you too (y/n). You’ve become more than an intern or helper to us, you’re family now. And we always protect our family.” Brian said.  I looked up at him and said.

“You mean that?”

“If you’d like to be a part of it, we won’t question it. Even after the internship is over, we’ll still need you.”

“Brian I—nothing would make me even happier.” He pressed his forehead against mine, nuzzling our noses together in a gentle Eskimo kiss.

After being in the group hug for what felt like forever I was then surprised to see Freddie kneel down before my parent’s grave and he said.

“(F/n), (M/n), my darlings, you don’t have to worry about your little girl anymore.”

“You’ve done your best to watch over her, but now you both no longer need to worry. Because now we’re here.” Roger continued for Freddie as he now knelt down beside him, specifically kneeling before my father’s grave.

“You both raised an incredible daughter. And I know you both must be very, very, very proud of the woman she’s become.” Said Deacy as he knelt on the other side of Freddie.  Then Brian knelt beside Deacy and he finished.

“You both can rest easy now. We can look after your daughter, if you’ll allow us. She’s—” he looked right up at me and softly smiled as he took my hand in his. “She’s become more to Queen than we could possibly imagine. You both have fussed over her long enough, allow us to continue that in your stand.”

I smiled and shook my head as the tears once again fell down my face.  I then knelt down between the two guitarists of Queen and as they both rubbed my back comfortingly, I choked out.

“I’m okay now mum and dad……You can trust these boys. They may seem crazy but—I love them. You both can rest in peace knowing I’ll be okay.” The soft autumn wind blew through our hairs gently and I know it sounds crazy but I swear I thought I heard my mum and dad’s whispers along the wind saying.

Thank you Queen.

[to-ahtohallan]

A Little Trouble (Elsa & Anna Childhood Fic)

My friens and I had the same exact headcanon for Elsa and Anna's relationship before the accident so I decided to write us a little fic. Special thanks to her for beta-ing this as well!! Canon-compliant, no spoilers for the new movie, just cute baby Elsa and Anna fluff! Plus good parents King Agnarr and Queen Iduna (they're good parents and you can fight me on this) Xposted on AO3.

“8… 9… 10!” Elsa said and opened her eyes. She quickly scanned her and Anna’s bedroom before yelling, “I’m coming Anna!”

A giggle came from the hallway and Elsa turned her attention towards the ajar door. She began to laugh as well as she ran out of the bedroom. Her eyes caught a flash of green disappear into the library at the end of the hall. Elsa quickly chased after it.

This was their 10th game of hide-and-seek today but the girls didn’t care. It was one of their favorite things to do, especially since Arendelle Castle had hundreds of hiding places. Anna’s favorite hiding spot, however, was the library.

Elsa pushed open the doors and peered inside. It wasn’t the largest room in the castle but it was one of the more intricately furnished. The walls were lined with shelves full of books and a grand sofa sat in the middle of the room across the fireplace. Various portraits, busts, and vases decorated the room as well. Nothing seemed to be particularly out of place— or so Anna wanted her to think. She closed the door behind her, a mischievous grin appearing on her face.

“Anna,” she called. “Come out Anna, I know you’re here!”

A small noise came from underneath the couch in the center of the room, only to quickly be muffled. Elsa crouched down just enough to see the soles of two little brown boots. Her grin grew even wider.

“Anna, if you don’t come out…” she said while lifting up a foot. “I’ll make you!” As soon as her foot touched the floor, it was covered in a sheet of ice. Anna slid out from beneath the couch, an expression of surprise on her face. “Found you!”

“You have to catch me first!” Anna yelled and scrambled up. She began to slide away from her sister as fast as she could. Elsa just laughed and skated after her.

“Come back here!”

“Catch me!” Anna spun around across the ice. She soon forgot that her goal was to escape her sister— she began to laugh while trying to keep steady as she danced around. “Elsa look!” Her sister smiled, but her eyes widened when she saw where Anna was headed. She reached out towards the smaller girl.

“Anna, wait! Be careful—”

“I’m dancing, Elsa, I’m—” As Anna turned she collided straight into a pedestal. “Oof!”

Several things happened all at once. Elsa quickly blasted out a mound of snow to cushion Anna’s fall. The younger girl landed into it with a small thud. She sat up and shook the snow off of her head. The older blonde let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Anna was unharmed.

“Look! I’m okay!”

Both of their gazes then turned towards the mess on the floor. While Anna was unscathed, the same couldn’t be said for the vase that was now in pieces. Elsa gasped into her hands.

“That was Mama’s favorite!” she said. Tears began to well up in Anna’s eyes.

“What do we do?”

“Elsa? Anna?” The two children snapped their heads toward the library doors. Footsteps could be heard as their mother called out, “Is everything alright?”

“Quick Anna, hide!” Anna stumbled her way towards the giant windows and hid behind the curtains. Elsa clenched her fists before blasting ice all over the pedestal. Just as she whirled around, the library doors opened and her parents stepped inside.

“Elsa! What in the world—” her father gasped.

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to have fun with Anna, but I made too much snow, and—” Elsa fumbled over her words in apology. “I broke Mama’s vase! I’m sorry!

Agnarr let out a deep sigh. But before he could scold his eldest daughter, his wife placed a hand on his arm. He gave her a curious expression; Iduna motioned her head towards the window. Both parents looked at their youngest who was cowering behind the drapes. They shared a knowing glance before turning back to Elsa.

“Elsa, what have we said about using your powers excessively?” Agnarr said with a stern voice. His eyes, however, were filled with mirth, yet neither girl could tell. Anna grasped the drapes with her small fists while she shook with anxiety. Elsa just bit her lip and frowned.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said. She didn’t notice that her parents were struggling to keep straight faces. She began playing with her braid as she looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“We’ll have to figure out a suitable punishment, dear,” her mother said. “Do you think we should ground her?”

“No!” Everyone’s attention turned to Anna, who had emerged from her hiding spot. She ran up and clutched her father’s leg, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Papa it’s my fault! I broke it, not Elsa! I’m sorry! Please don’t punish Elsa!”

Agnarr laughed and picked Anna up into his arms. He wiped her tears away with his thumb.

“Did you, now?” he said.

“I did! I broke it! I ran into it and it fell! I’m sorry!” Anna continued to cry. Agnarr just patted her back and rocked her in his arms.

“Alright, alright. No one is getting grounded,” he said.

“Really?” Elsa asked, her voice small. Watching her sister cry had made her tear up as well. Iduna opened her arms and the blonde ran into them. She buried her face into her mother’s shoulder. Iduna pressed a soft kiss on her crown.

“No one is getting grounded,” she repeated her husband’s words. “But you both are still in trouble. You need to be more careful; you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“We’ll be more careful, we promise,” Elsa said.

“We promise!” Anna said.

“Alright.” Agnarr looked around the library, now covered in ice. He sighed again. “We’ll have someone come clean this up.”

“And you two need to get ready for bed,” Iduna said. The girls clutched onto their parents as they exited the library. “It’s getting late.”

“Will you tell us a story?” Anna looked at her mother with pleading eyes. Iduna leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Only if you promise to be good.”

“We promise!” the girls said in unison. Their parents chuckled. Agnarr ruffled Anna's hair and patted Elsa's cheek. Both girls crinkled their noses and giggled with smiles. They all disappeared into the girls' bedroom, ready to turn in for the night.

[legolaslovely]

Return to Nampara

A/N: Don’t even ask me where this came from! Sometimes, I really have trouble writing characters I really admire and Ross and Demelza are some of those characters. But I was reading about Ross and Caroline’s relationship in The Black Moon and had an idea, what if Ross had a sister? I tried to be as canonically(?) correct with this, but you’re just gonna have to roll with me haha! Also practicing writing in third person without the (Y/N) symbol in the way. Anyway, Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ross + sister Rebecca, some Ross x Demelza

Word Count: 3,010

Warnings: spoilers for book 1/season 1? other than that none? fluff!

Summary: Takes place three months after Demelza and Ross’s wedding, Ross’s sister Rebecca, who he hasn’t seen since he went to war, attends a family funeral with Ross.

Ross stood tall and still in the library, one hand resting on the chair in front of him and the other holding a letter he’d just opened.

“What’s got you grinnin’ so?” Demelza asked.

He looked to her standing in the doorway. Her long, unruly hair was pulled back with the ribbon he’d brought her from his last visit to Truro. “When did this letter come?”

She put her hand on her hip, recalling. “Soon after you left for Leisure,” she said.

He shook the paper gently, then folded it back up and slid it in his coat pocket. “My sister is coming,” he said, unsuccessful in hiding his grin.

Demelza’s brows shot up. “I didn’t know you had one.”

He hummed. “She’s lived in London with family friends for a long while. She couldn’t stand dealing with our father alone.” He chuckled.

“She left you?”

He rounded the desk and stepped to her, pulling her in from the doorway. His hands rested on her hips. “I left her first, my dear. To fight the Americans.”

“She’s coming here?” Demelza asked. She tried to ignore the nerves growing in her stomach and her trembling fingers.

“She’s coming to my uncle’s funeral, and with any luck, yes, she’s coming here.” He took in her white face. “You will like her- you’re very similar.”

Demelza hummed. Oh yes, Ross’s adored, important, educated and no doubt beautiful sister is just like her. She let him kiss her cheek and tried to ignore her dread at having another Poldark in the house.

***

The morning of the funeral, Ross reached the edge of Truro to meet his sister a quarter hour before the carriage was due to arrive. He dismounted Darkie and waved away Jud and his complaints. “Don’t go too far.” He tied the reins to a tall post and leaned against it, fighting the excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing his beloved sister after years of being apart.

He heard pounding hooves and the rattling of the old bridles and reins and turned his head to watch the carriage pull in front of him. His sister was the only one to get off at Truro. She stepped out and ran to Ross, jumping into his embrace as she did when she was a child. “Ross!”

“Rebecca,” he laughed, setting her feet on the ground and kissing her cheek. Over her shoulder, he watched Jud take her bag from the coachmen before they set off for their next destination. His face fell. She hadn’t brought enough to stay very long.

She stood before him and eyed him. “Look at you!” A delicate finger ran over the scar on his cheek. “My brother’s still so handsome after all that time in America, hm?”

He hummed and rolled his eyes, but took a moment to appreciate her. Her hair had grown long and curled around the small of her back and she’d grown into her angular face just as he had. “And my baby sister is not a baby anymore.”

“No, she is not! I’m a lady now, don’t you know,” she sang, curtsying in jest.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her.

She hugged him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “I hate that I’ve brought you so out of the way of Trenwith to fetch me, but I am also glad of it. Could you imagine this reunion at the funeral? I wouldn’t be able to restrain my excitement if I didn’t see you first.”

“And will you be this happy to see the rest of our family?”

“Don’t tease, Ross. You know I love them all, but no one holds a candle to you.”

He hummed with a bright smile on his face. It was not easy to make Ross blush, but if anyone could do it, it was his sister. He turned to Jud and told him to take Rebecca’s bag back to Nampara. “If any item goes missing, do not doubt you will be flogged to within an inch of your life.” He didn’t hold back his threats for Rebecca’s sake, she too knew Jud’s habits very well.

“No, Ross, I’ll be staying at Trenwith,” she said.

His jaw set. “You will not, you will stay with me at Nampara.”

She smirked at his possessive expression. “I cannot impose-”

“You will not be imposing. It is not up for discussion, Nampara is your home.”

“It is your home and your new wife’s home. You don’t need a strange family member encroaching on your bliss after only three months of marriage. I’ve already spoken with Francis-”

“I refuse to leave you in the care of Francis. Jud, bring her things to Nampara. Rebecca, get on the horse.” He offered a hand.

She giggled. Admittedly, she’d missed being fussed over by her big brother. “Yes, Captain Poldark.” She mounted Darkie without his assistance and slid her feet out of the stirrup for Ross to use and settle behind her. “And when will I hear about this lovely wife of yours? I was disappointed when I did not receive quite the in depth letter Verity did.”

Ross grumbled, setting off to a trot toward Trenwith. “I should have known she’d tell you of it.”

“Well, I’m offended, Ross.” Her voice lilted lightly but he knew she was sincerely hurt.

“I will tell you the details on our ride back to Nampara. You’ll meet her before Verity does, if it’s any consolation.”

“Do you think me that childish?”

“Yes.”

She smacked his hands that rest in front of her, but laughed with him.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the gates of Trenwith. “We look much too happy together for the morning of our uncle’s funeral,” Rebecca said softly.

Ross squeezed her arm. “Uncle Charles would have wanted us to celebrate your return.” He directed Darkie in front of the pond and dismounted. He took Rebecca’s waist, though he knew she’d slide off the saddle gracefully without his help. He watched her swallow her sadness and nostalgia, kissed her head, and led her through the doors of Trenwith.

The entire affair dragged on, but through all of it, Ross was hardly ever parted from his sister. He held a drawn smile as she was reunited with Francis, and listened to her gush over how nice Trenwith looked under his care, despite the circumstances. The pond shone in the morning light, it must take much time and care. Were those new curtains in the sitting room? They were lovely. And the new turkey carpet in the dining room was also just lovely. Ross smirked to himself, knowing that whenever Rebecca used the word ‘lovely’ she never actually meant it.

Rebecca was on his arm as they walked to the church. She was sat between him and Francis during the mass and was surprisingly strong during the funeral. Her low, smooth voice perfectly singing the hymns brought him back to his childhood when they sat in this order, in this church almost every Sunday. Then his mother died and they didn’t return except once every year for Christmas.

He gave her his handkerchief when her fingers started to tremble in his. His thumb ran over her knuckles and listening to her sniff almost brought emotion to his own eyes. Not of Charles’ death, but of sorrowful reminiscence of a time when his family was happy and there was no unrest between them. He wondered if times such as those could ever return.

They returned to Trenwith and Ross allowed Rebecca to escape him for the first time that day. She rushed upstairs to say hello to Elizabeth out of nothing but propriety, and to visit with Verity. After Ross, Verity was who she was most excited to see. He stood at the window watching the light shine over the pond and waited for her, chuckling to himself when he heard her and Verity’s squeals.

After a few refreshments and goodbyes, they were trotting off to Nampara with Darkie. With every mile put between them and Trenwith, Rebecca’s smile grew a little more. She prattled on about how she’d missed the cliffs and the salt air gathering on the windows. In London, only frost grew on the windows and she detested it. “Now, please, Ross. Tell me about Demelza.”

He had forgotten his earlier promise to her and her question caught him off guard. “Well… she grew up in Illugan. Not far from here, you remember?”

She waved him away with a scoff. “Oh, I know all that. Tell me about her. What is she like?”

He was glad she was facing the other way as his throat worked, thinking of what to say. What could he tell her? “She is nervous to meet you,” he decided on. He felt a fool, like a boy telling his kid sister of his first crush.

“Nervous to meet me? Why? What did you tell her of me?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“You’ve told her nothing of me? Do I not exist?”

He groaned. “Rebecca.”

“So you won’t tell me what she’s like, I will find out for myself when I meet her. But I can see she makes you happy.”

He slowed Darkie to a walk as they came upon Nampara land. A smile tugged at his lips at the thought of seeing Demelza again after such a long and trying day. She had probably been hustling around the house for hours, making pies and scrubbing the floor raw, worried sick over what Rebecca would think of her housekeeping skills. He breathed out a laugh. “Yes. She makes me happy.”

***

Demelza dropped her broom and whipped off her apron at the sound of Ross’s voice. He asked Jud to take Darkie around and as usual, Jud did as he was asked with a cursing grumble. Then she heard a woman’s voice.

“You’re too good for allowing him to stay, Ross.” Her voice was low and strong like his. Demelza peeked at her through the window, but Rebecca’s back was turned to the house. Against the backdrop of her black dress, Demelza could just see the veil of thick, dark hair curling tightly down to her waist.

“Jud was a friend of Father’s,” Ross said.

Rebecca hummed. “Many of Father’s friends are better thrown out,” she said lowly. Then she turned to get a look at the house in the low evening light. She stepped out of Demelza’s view but she heard her say, “Oh, my, Ross! The work you’ve done! It looks wonderful—better than it ever was! Father would be proud.”

Pride consumed Demelza’s own chest. She was glad someone was taking notice of her husband’s hard, unending work. Then she heard Ross whisper his sister’s name. She guessed Rebecca’s emotions had swelled.

“It must be difficult coming back after all this time,” he said.

Rebecca laughed thickly. “It’s my own fault. I lost my temper with Father one too many times and ran off to London, never to see him again.” Her voice broke. “A perfect daughter, I am.”

His soft protests could be heard through the door. “Nonsense. Father was unbearable at the end. No one blames you for getting an education in London, growing in the culture there. You’ve single handedly bettered our name with your travels.”

“Don’t tease, Ross.” Her voice was muffled. Perhaps by Ross’s arms or chest as he hugged her, Demelza thought. She shoved away her absurd twinge of jealousy.

Rebecca huffed and laughed. “Now that I’ve made a fool of myself-”

“Nonsense.”

“Please, please, may I meet your wife now?”

Demelza didn’t wait for Ross’s answer. She bolted out of the room and into his office so she would have a moment to gather herself. She looked in the glass in the corner, pulling on her sleeves and brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Should she pinch her cheeks? No. Ross would know if she had and tease her mercilessly later. Then she heard him call her.

She flew down the stairs and froze at the bottom when she caught sight of Rebecca. She was an image of Ross. Her dark hair and stunning black dress only accentuated her porcelain skin that Demelza guessed was as easily browned in the sun as her brother’s. The sharp, angular features of the Poldarks made her face look delicate and handsomely thin. She stood almost as tall as him and her corset brought the eye to slim curves that Demelza could only wish for.

Then her hands were in Rebecca’s and she forced a smile to her face.

“You must be Demelza. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. I have heard so much about you.” Rebecca glanced to Ross. “Of course, not from Ross directly. There are not many women in this world who can render him speechless, you know.”

Both women looked to him, one in jest, and one in question. His mouth fell agape. “I believe the only two who can are standing before me.”

Rebecca squeezed her hands. “Forgive me, Demelza. I live to tease him.”

“You and me both. Would-would you like some tea? You must be tired from your journey. And I have biscuit-cakes and raspberry tarts. Ross said they’re your favorite.” Demelza flew around the kitchen, putting plates full of warm treats on the table.

Rebecca sat with a wide smile. “You’ve gone to much too much trouble! Oh my, Demelza! Look at all these treats. You are too kind, really.”

Demelza cheeks were enflamed at her praise. “It’s no trouble, I enjoy baking these. They’re Ross’s favorite as well.” She lifted the cooled kettle from the table and set it on the fire again. She didn’t know when they’d come and had boiled water four times before they arrived. She smirked as Ross sat at the head of the table and reached across Rebecca, elbowing her purposefully as he took a tart from the plate. He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“And you call me childish,” Rebecca said.

Now that the kettle was gone, Rebecca saw the hand knitted trivet left on the table. She fingered it gently without moving it from its place. “This is beautiful. Is this from Truro?” she asked.

“Demelza made it,” Ross said.

“Did you? It’s gorgeous. May I look at it?” Her sharp, brown eyes flew up to Demelza’s.

She nodded, thrown by Rebecca asking her permission. She watched as her guest lifted her work and ran her delicate, gentle fingers over the stitching.

“The cabling is marvelous. I’ve tried for weeks and still can’t get it right. I admire you, I really do.” She set it back down on the table and smoothed it with her hands.

Demelza could tell she was sincere and not just trying to make a nice impression on her. Like Ross, Rebecca’s brows were knitted together and her eyes focused. Her lips barely moved as she spoke.

“I can teach you, if you’d like,” Demelza said.

“I would be in your debt.”

The sun had set and the candles had burned down, and Demelza and Rebecca were still chatting happily. Demelza drank in stories of Ross as a child and Rebecca was happy to hear about his present life after the war. They spoke of housing duties and general womanhood, but Ross refused to leave either of them. He was content in their presence, watching both of them become comfortable with each other. Each transformed before his eyes—his sister into an exciting young woman and Demelza into a confident mistress of the house.

Rebecca huffed from her laughing and sighed. “Well, I have stolen both your attentions for long enough. I am retiring for the night and will see you in the morning. Thank you for a perfect feast, Demelza.” She squeezed her hand, kissed her brother goodnight and went off to the small bedroom in the back of the house where her bag waited for her.

Demelza stood, gathering the empty plates, but Ross took them from her and pulled her to sit in his lap. “How was your day?”

She smirked, knowing his aim. “Tirin’. Judas, Ross, I was so nervous I scoured this house from bottom to top.”

He chuckled, pulling the loose ribbon from her hair and watching it fall. He twirled a curl in his fingers. “I had a feeling you would. Everything was perfect but you didn’t have to do it.”

“How was I to know your sister would be so-wonderful? She’s just like you.”

“Her temper is worse than mine,” he said.

“Impossible.”

He kissed her, swallowing her giggle. He drew back, taking in her eyes, her rosy cheeks, and her soft, comfortable smile. She ran her fingers through his curls.

“Was the funeral well?”

He nodded. “It was what he would have wanted. It was long and all about him,” he said with a smirk. “It dragged on and on and all I could think of was getting home to you.” His hands slid down her waist and under her bottom as he kissed just below her ear.

“You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful.”

“Who?” he asked against her skin.

“Rebecca.”

He drew away with a deep chuckle. “I haven’t seen her since she was a child. It’s uncanny seeing her grown, but she’s always acted the same sweet away.” He returned to her neck. “Now will you stop thinking about my sister and kiss me?”

She pushed his smug face away. “A beautiful woman had your adoration and attentions all day. How am I not to think of that?”

“You’ve had my adoration and attentions all day, my dear. And you always will have them.”

She ran her fingers over his cheeks and kissed him deeply. She released him and allowed her bottom lip to slide over his before taking it in her mouth again. She held onto him as he stood and carried her to their bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot.

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