#anyways i tried to get in and half the door mysteriously vanished and i walked in and the narrator was like what connor didnt know was that
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im back
#i feel honestly kind of foul i think i slept with my mouth open i also had a rly scary dream that scared me . which is stupid#i was on a school bus and my friend was a cop and we were doing a tour of an old abandoned prison and the stairs were stupid and my ex gf#from middle school made me slip and hit y chin on the stairs#there was a narrator btw and before it happened he was like It was fucked up what (exgf) did to connor and i was looking atound lime hm? and#then i slipped on the stairs and i looked over at the narrator who ig was there and nodded like yeha that was fucked#anyways at some point the abandoned jail went to being a real active police station but the door didnt work so the other 2 left ( i was#still recovering from the stairs thing) and btw they werent like normal stairs they were nonsensical#verynarrow and like. not arranged by height and there was like. basically it wasnt my fault i fell it also honestly wasnt rly my middle#school exes i think i just appreciated that somebody noticed me fall#anyways i tried to get in and half the door mysteriously vanished and i walked in and the narrator was like what connor didnt know was that#it was the wrong day for the tour . and i was like goddamn it its the wrong day for the tour but i still had to go to the receptionist lady#and she was like its the wrong day for the tour . and i was like okayyy im gonna go yell at my teachers rly awkwardly and left and it was#crickets and then the fiance of the friend who was a cop in my dream (shes not in real life afaik. shes the one i had a crush on until she#became a swiftie keep up) anyways he comes up and ig he was in there looking for her and i was like Oh shes outside (i saw her on the bus#she waved at me it was nice)#so then we go back outside and suddenly r on the bus only its a lot narrower and the teachers are like Well we had to switch buses shut up#shut up ansi was like . my shit was on the other bus and they're like oh do you want it. and then im like yes and i get off the bus and walk#through the like A tive highway THERE ARE CARS im running across it to the like. the other bus which is for somereason like frozen and#wrecked and im walking up and the narrator was like Its too bad that the rly normal and nice bus driver suddenly out of nowhere became an#evil murderer and im like fuck but im opening the door bc im in the story and i cant control it and then blood pours out and the bus driver#like lunged at me and i think he had rabies bc his mouth was foaming . And then i woke up and it was quite scary#scariest part was my friend being a cop randomly girl what. stop that#also i dont understand why we were on a hs field trip ? bc we were adults? she was still engaged? and had anjob? she was the same age as the#rest of us im putting this in the same cinematic universe as many of my dreams where i am for some reason back in hs with my friends but .#ok wait kinda funny i almost said Were all still graduated#LOLLLLLLLLLLL.
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we can't. | vera farmiga x fem!reader
The town didn't look any different the last time she'd seen it, it was still dark yet somehow full of colors at the same time. A mystery she'd never quite solved, not that she ever had the time to.
Perhaps she could have. [Y/N] thought. Had it not happened. Or rather, had she not happened.
It's been atleast half a year, and most of the people she knew in the town had either fled to another country or are unable to greet her with all their family stuff. Still, she could've appreciated if not a grand welcome— a welcome.
Nonetheless, [Y/N] made her way to the familiar right corner, the house furthest away from others. It was getting prepared to be sold, considering no one— [Y/N]— doesn't live there anymore. She'd left a few important things, though. Hence the comeback.
The repairmen were not present today, and the house couldn't be anymore lonely than it already is. Bummer, [Y/N] thought, she had brought snacks incase there was any present. Huffing a frustrated sigh, [Y/N] placed the bag of food on top of a random furniture covered with a sheet. It was hers back then, it came with the house when she bought it, and it stays with the house regardless she left or not.
30 minutes, [Y/N] had promised herself, 30 minutes and she was going to leave forever. Which was incredibly terrifying. 6 months had passed and yet it still feels as though maybe she left her heart with the house. She thought maybe coming back would fix the hole of unsatisfaction, she thought maybe seeing the house empty and getting repaired for another person to live in would leave her satisfied with her choice.
It didn't.
"And here I thought you were never coming back."
[Y/N] jumped a few feet from the front door, refusing to look back at the person who owned that voice. That familiar, soothing voice. Honestly, it never once not amuse her just how Vera Farmiga's voice calmed her during those times.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." She added, stepping away for a moment before she stopped in her tracks— probably to observe [Y/N] just like how she always do back then. "You look good."
With her eyes still pinned to the closed door of her old house, [Y/N] replied with, "Thanks. Can't say the same to you."
"'Course not when you refuse to look at me."
[Y/N] could feel Vera grin. She suppressed hers, however, not wanting to give Vera any reaction that might signify they were back to being fine— they weren't. And maybe will never be.
"[Y/N]."
"Why are you here?"
"Heard you came by in the town so I... wanted to see you for myself." Vera answers sincerely it almost made [Y/N] lunge at her and kiss her like how she used to. Used to. Times were different now. And the pain Vera caused her still lingered.
"Well you see me now." [Y/N] stated, trying to keep her voice steady and firm. She'd been imagining different ways she'd meet Vera again, and imagined more scenarios enough to keep her from showing any unwanted emotions.
Such as the affection [Y/N] still feels for her.
She sighed at the thought, and came to a conclusion of how coward she must've looked like refusing to see Vera again. But who could blame her? Vera Farmiga had the chance to choose, and she chose him. Despite all their memories in the house, despite all those affectionate looks and touches, all those unspoken words— Vera Farmiga chose Patrick Wilson. Not [Y/N]. And she just needs to remind herself of that as she turned to see the very woman responsible of the pain she's still feeling.
Vera looked... vulnerable and exhausted. She looked thinner, tiny even, and it's only been 6 months. What the hell happened? [Y/N] tried not to react, suppressing any remorse she felt as she looked at Vera.
"Do you want me to go?" Vera asks, voice barely steady. "I just... I never got to apologize to you, is all. And I really just wanted to see you."
"Me too."
It came out of [Y/N]'s mouth too fast before she could even think of it. There's no use crying over a spilled milk, but she mentally slapped herself anyway.
Vera didn't look amused at the response, though, and instead, lets out a pained sigh. "I wanted you. Since from the start. And when you left— I realized I didn't just want you. I needed you. But [Y/N]..." Vera took a step closer, and closer, until [Y/N] could barely think of anything but Vera's warm breath and her awestrucking eyes. Those damned, too good to be true, eyes. "We just can't." It was a whisper, a soft voice pleading for [Y/N] to stay even if her words contradict such pleading.
We just can't.
"I know. I know, Vera." [Y/N] says, her voice breaking each second as she brought her hands up to Vera's face, cupping her cheeks, the anger vanishing as she does. "I missed you."
"I do too. So fucking much I can't help it. I want to run away with you, grow old with you, and perhaps die with you. I want to do that, [Y/N]. I want to do that so bad—"
"But we can't."
"We can't."
Their lovestory had been beautiful. From their clumsy beginning, to their painful ending. And so for the last time, they spent the afternoon together, eating the snacks initially for the missing repairmen and talked.
[Y/N] wasn't afraid of selling the house, no. She was afraid of losing the memories she's made together... with Vera. And as the afternoon passed by, and the moon came lightening up the dark sky; [Y/N] was even more afraid.
"I'm sorry, [Y/N]." Vera started, her eyes fixated on her feet currently swinging to and fro. The couple were on the balcony, the view of the town visible enough for them to admire. "I should've chosen you."
"Yeahh," [Y/N] pursues her lips. "I'm so mad how easily I can forgive you. You do know that I came back into the town telling myself no way am I ever going to do so?"
Vera lets out a hearty chuckle; it was when she scrunches her nose and closes her eyes too adorably for [Y/N] to even comprehend.
It died out eventually, and her face shifted to a sad expression, "I'm so selfish for that. I knew how hurt you would be, yet I still chose him. But deep down, I would always choose you. Even until now. I was just so afraid that time."
"And now?"
"I still am."
[Y/N] wanted to be mad at her, to confront her just how coward she is. But seeing Vera like this; in pain, unable to make a choice she wants to choose, [Y/N] can't be. Vera looked emotionally and physically hurt, just the same as [Y/N] and if not, even more.
"I love you so much, you know?" Vera confesses, biting her bottom lip. "I love you so much I almost can't bear the pain to see you leave again."
Her lover stared thoughtfully at her, and smiled reassuringly. "I will never not love you too, Vera."
[Y/N] sealed their goodbyes with a kiss, and Vera held her lover once more in her arms knowing this was going to be the last time she'll ever see [Y/N]. And that thought just breaks every inch of her. But it had to be done.
In this kind of world, love can't win. Not even the greatest love of all time. [Y/N] stayed for awhile, letting Vera be the one to walk away. Letting herself feel the same way Vera did when she was the one to do so. And as Vera disappeared from her sight, [Y/N] set her mind in winning their love in their second life. If there ever was.
#fanfic#imagine your otp#prompts#reader insert#writing#vera farmiga#aloe vera#lmaooo#lorraine warren#lorraine warren x reader#vera farmiga x reader#hurt/comfort#hurt comfort#hurt no comfort#angst#fluff#lesbian#sapphic#wlw
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Spin the Bottle (Akaashi x Reader NSFW one shot)
Summary: You are tired of Akaashi’s dual personality toward you and decide to get to the bottom of it with a bottle of wine and a late night alone.
Warnings: NSFW, name calling, quickie, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 2793
The day you moved in you knew that Akaashi was going to be a troublesome roommate. The landlord assured you that the boys she already had living in the room were nice young men, one of them hardly ever home in the first place, and since you were desperate for somewhere to live before the start of term you didn’t figure that you had much of a choice otherwise.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto cheered as he set down the last box. “Barbeque dinner time yeah?! You promised!”
The door to Akaashi’s room was already shut before you had the chance to answer, leaving you alone with the silver haired extrovert. What you didn’t realize was that Akaashi had his back to the door, cheeks bright pink as he slid to the floor, staring at the ground as he tried to collect himself. He had hardly the occasion to speak two words to you before but he’d seen you on campus freshman year and now…? Well, he’d have to talk to you… unless…
You and Akaashi have been basically battling back and forth leaving each other subtle hints for nearly two months. The crush came fast, made of little reminder notes left on bathroom mirrors for both you and Bokuto and cups of coffee left hot for you on the kitchen counter in the mornings. You caught him sneaking little glances out of the corner of your eye before and it was sincerely sweet how he’d work late with you at the small kitchen table, his books spread over half of it while your side was just as messy. He’d make you little snacks at midnight, bring you coffee during especially strenuous study sessions, but when you would try and joke with him like you would with Bokuto he’d shut you out completely. It seemed almost impossible to you that these two men, so opposite in personality, could be such close companions but… You supposed that crazier things have happened.
“Oh come on Akaashi you and Bokuto have to have a little more in common than that,” You teased one evening.
“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.
“Well how is it that a guy like Bokuto who’s all machismo and confidence make friends with a-” You watched as his face fell, a blush on his cheeks as he shut his laptop hard.
“I should be getting to the library.”
“Wait, that came out wrong I-”
“No, no I’m not offended I really have to be going.”
Then you’d sigh and slump in your chair, working alone again. You were getting tired of how evasive Akaashi was, especially since you and Bokuto were really starting to get closer as friends.
“You just intimidate him!” Bokuto promised you one night as you sat at your favorite small dive bar. “He’s not used to having two pretty faces to deal with!”
“First off I’m not that pretty and second off how could I be intimidating?” You laughed, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink.
“Well, okay, Akaashi only had like… Two girls he ever went on a date with that I know about. Being his best friend, I think I’d know! So… What are you going to do huh? Maybe you could get him to do a movie night when I’m gone next weekend.”
“You’re going to be gone?” You muse, thinking it over. It’d be nice to spend more time with Akaashi and besides… The mystery had a little bit of an allure to it.
As you and Bokuto walked home you thought about it more and more. Why were you so determined to be Akaashi’s friend anyway? What did it matter if he hated you or something, Bokuto was clearly happy with you being at the apartment and besides it wasn’t causing you any trouble so why did you care so damn much about this handsome fit setter? But that’s when it began to hit you. The kindness of those notes about things you had due, the thoughtfulness of how he started getting snacks he’d know you’d like for your midnight essay writing, staying up with you when he didn’t need to to cram for tests… You were starting to fall for the way he showed you how he loved you, even if he couldn’t say any of this out loud… yet. That next weekend, when Bokuto was away for a game, you were going to figure out if the seemingly insane thing your brain came up with had any merit to it whatsoever.
You hear Akaashi come home, the door slamming behind him as he dragged himself over to the couch. You could see how the semester was stressing him out, wincing as his tired eyes turned to you. He had hardly been home for the past two days, holed up in the library as finals approached.
“I turned in that paper, Y/N,” He said softly, a proud smile on his face. “I can finally relax…”
“Oh?” You smiled as you joined him on the couch, noting how he made just enough room for you but didn’t quite move far enough for there to be any more than a few inches between the two of you. “Well then it’s a perfect time for a wine night isn’t it?”
“Honestly that sounds.. really nice…” He mumbled, blushing and clearing his throat as he thought about the advice Bokuto gave him.
It’s obvious she likes you too! Just… Say yes to it! Go with what she wants to do and then you’ll figure out the perfect time when it hits, just like we always have!
That wasn’t how they always had, true, but he understood the sentiment Bokuto was getting at. Shutting down opportunities to spend time with you wasn’t helping him one bit so… Why was this so difficult? He let you run off, getting the bottle of wine and the opener before you sat back down, filling two glasses.
“To work well done and reward well earned,” You smiled, clinking glasses with him as you eased into the couch.
Akaashi blushed, nodding with the toast as he leaned back as well, absent mindedly wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his cheeks hot with embarrassment the moment he realized it. But it was too late now, wasn’t it? If he pulled away you’d for sure notice and then think he didn’t want to have his arm around you which he totally did but if he leaves his arm and you don’t want him to have his arm around you then he just comes off as creepy, doesn’t he? He’d been maintaining a distance between you two for his own protection but now that you leaned into the way his arm had been wrapped around your shoulders that had vanished into thin air�� and what surprised him most was how grateful he was for its absence.
That small touch was enough to put him at ease, not thinking about how the wine flowed until you were both three glasses deep, sharing stories from high school as he told you more about how Bokuto would practically form mushrooms pouting when he messed up in Volleyball. He felt your weight shift a little to look more at him as he decided to finally get bold. A tad bit woozy, he set the glass down before taking your face in both his hands, squishing your cheeks and his legs onto the couch.
“I want… to kiss you.” He mumbled, his blue eyes flickering all over your face, trying to memorize the way you heated up as he made his infamous split second decisions. “But I cannot…” He whispered, bursting out into laughter as he fell back onto the couch, clutching his chest like his heart had been pierced with an arrow.
You crawled between his legs, leaning over him with a grin.
“I could kiss you then,” You offer, leaning in to do just that before he puts his hand over your mouth, his palm pressed to your sweet lips.
“No,” He whined, shaking his head firmly. “You can’t.”
“And why not?” You pouted, voice muffled by his hand and reminding him of Bokuto’s pout just enough to inspire a large goofy grin.
“Because if I kiss you… I wont stop… and I want to remember… everything about that, Y/N-chan.” He purred, his hand moving quickly to behind your head, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest, taking a deep breath as he held you. “I like you… a lot… And… I just want to fall asleep with you like this… Can you stay with me tonight?”
His voice had just the slightest whine to it, clearly reluctant to let you go even if it was just to walk down the hall to his room. He could hardly remember the rest of the night, his leg hooked in between yours so you couldn’t wander off, his arms wrapped around your body so you were enveloped by his warmth… He fell asleep in his clothes, not caring that he was in jeans and a button down which are arguably some of the least comfortable sleeping clothes one could wear. The next morning when his head stopped spinning he spent almost twenty minutes just staring down at you, admiring how peacefully you slept with him, sighing contentedly. This was exactly how he wanted things to be with you…
He almost began to pretend to be asleep when you woke up but the way you said his name, mumbling it before you cuddled into him… He smiled down at you, kissing your forehead softly.
“I know Bokuto-san will be home soon but… I… I wanted to…” He stammered, his cheeks getting tomato red as you looked up at him with such big loving eyes.
You didn’t give him an opportunity to finish his sentence, pressing your lips to his so sweetly he could swear that he felt a cavity pop up right as it happened. He smiled into the tender kiss, one hand gently tangling into your hair, pulling you closer as your bodies pressed to the other, desperately seeking their touch. He couldn’t fully hold back his moan as you rolled on top, happy to let you straddle him as you kissed lovingly over and over, his face radiating heat as he realized what you could probably feel despite his jeans.
“You know I’m sure it wasn’t comfortable sleeping in your dress shirt like this…” You mumble as your fingers delicately begin to work on his buttons. He lets a shiver run down his spine, the morning sunlight making you glitter like a deity above him as he lets you completely take control.
“If this is what you want I-” he whispered before you started to giggle, making him furrow his brow. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” You tease. “Last night you were all ‘oh if I kiss you I’m not stopping’ and here you are, letting me be the dominant one.”
Akaashi smirked, huffing a little as you challenged his dominance. He quickly started to help you with his buttons, slipping out of the shirt as he sat up, throwing the garment aside as he wrapped an arm around your lower back, easily flipping you onto your back. “If you’re going to hold me to my promises like that, my little flower, then I suppose I have to do my best to fulfill every last one of them.”
His hands slipped up your shirt, fingers playing with your nipples as he pressed his lips to yours again, tugging and rolling them between his fingers, trying to illicit any reaction he could as he nibbled and sucked your bottom lip, reveling in your every small moan or noise.
“Keiji,” You whine as he moves his kisses to your jaw, finding a sweet spot by your ear before going for the pleasure centers in your neck.
“What is it, my flower?” he purrs, backing off of you just enough to slide your t-shirt over your head and throw it to the side, abandoned with his own in the corner.
“Y-You said… Bokuto could-“
“I don’t want to talk about him. I want to focus on you.” He growled, clearly a little jealous that he hadn’t rid your thoughts of everything and anything but him right now.
“N-No, Keiji he could walk in on us if we a-aren’t… you know…” you mumble, blushing darkly as you melt under his intense stare.
“Well… Then I suppose I’ll have to savor you another time, hmm? I should just punish you now then, is that it? Punish you for teasing me?”
You blush, shaking your head as he pulls off your sleep shorts, smirking to see the arousal already evident. “No underwear huh?” He chuckled. “Figures. You know who finds your… dirty panties in the bathroom, don’t you?”
Your brain is practically melting now, thinking back and remembering times when you must have forgotten to pick them up after showers. You always had all of them, you thought at least, and he’d never brought them up before so you hadn’t noticed.
“What if Bokuto-san had found them, hmm? What would he have said?” Akaashi growled, his digits quickly making work to stretch you out for his waiting, throbbing member as one hand worked on undoing his jeans. “Unless that’s what all this was, hmm? Playing us against each other? So fucking dirty, aren’t you?”
He pulled away just long enough to take off his pants, leaving them exactly where he was standing as he crawled back on top of you now completely nude, still towering over you as he pressed a finger into your mouth, making you suck your own need off of them. “Now be a good little flower, won’t you? Let me fuck your brains out.”
His pace wasn’t meant to let you adjust. If you were going to bring Bokuto up, remind him how Bokuto could be back at any minute, ruin the morning he’d been dreaming of then, well, he was going to ensure your pussy would be made into a perfect sleeve for his cock regardless of what you thought on the matter. He sucked on your neck as he drilled into you, carefully hitting your sweet spots as he held your chest to his, leaving marks hungrily all along your exposed skin. Keiji didn’t care to let anyone have even the slightest opportunity to imagine you without being reminded that he’d be there. One hand slipped back down to your sex, fingers working at a furious pace to get you off as your orgasm approached. You two were practically animals in heat, howling for each other as you took advantage of Bokuto’s absence.
“Fuck I’m so close,” he muttered, not realizing that was the first thing he’d even been able to say since he’d sheathed himself into you for the first time.
“Come on,” he whispered into your neck, not letting up on his speed. “Fuck baby I need you to cum…”
He begged for your orgasm, fingers working like mad as he finally felt you climax, gasping as his eyes widened, the hand working your sex quickly going to his own as he squeezed hard around the base, pulling out as quickly as he could to spill his cum on your stomach, panting as he painted it white with his sticky juices.
“F-Fuck,” he chuckled, still shaky as he tried to catch his breath. “You certainly know how to… take it out of me…”
He sat back on his heels, admiring how beautiful you looked covered in his cum after your own orgasm. “If I had any idea where my phone was I’d take a picture but… I suppose I can wait for next time…”
“Next time?” You said, ears perking up.
He furrowed his brow, confused and a little frustrated. “Wait you didn’t think…? Boke.”
Akaashi shook his head, sighing softly with a light smile. “Let’s clean you up before Bokuto gets home alright? I think I… Can finally tell him I have a girlfriend…”
He gently stroked your cheek before getting a tissue, happily cleaning your stomach as he let you sneak back into your room, out of the view of the living room. He stood in the door to your room, wearing some casual sweatpants and an old volleyball t-shirt, wrapping his arms around your body for a moment and giving you a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s go make breakfast yeah?” he mumbled.
“I was thinking pancakes!” Bokuto laughed as he passed by the two of you, heading to his room at the end of the hall, making Akaashi freeze. “By the way, a little quieter next time yeah? Might wake the neighbors!”
#akaashi x reader#akaashi smut#akaashi x gender neutral reader#akaashi x reader smut#rafabaebee#haikyuu smut#haikyuu setters
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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 34
Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: DARK THEMES, heavily implied domestic abuse (the Black family) A/n: I’m editing this in a restaurant rn. Nobody can say that I’m not committed! Anyway, if there’s more errors than usual, it’s bc I’m on mobile. Sorry!
【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】
Chapter 34: Secrets of Our Souls
━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━
Meet me at our place at midnight. Be careful. Make sure nobody follows you. R.A.B
Y/N read the letter several times before folding it in half while her eyes glazed the crowd of students in the Great Hall in search of Regulus.
A no-show.
Since the start of the term, she’d been trying to get hold of Regulus but her attempts were futile. He was as finicky as a shadow, never staying still long enough for her to grasp, to spot.
Everything about his inconspicuous disappearance and the peculiar letter left her deeply unnerved. He'd even gone as far as using a different owl to respond to her letters; not the usual Black family owl.
In many ways, Regulus was mysterious; highly unusual — dare she say frightening.
“Oh!” Marlene exclaimed. “A secret admirer?”
“Give it back!” Y/N said indignantly as Marlene pried the letter from her hand, unfolding it. Before she could read the contents, Y/N nearly tackled it out of her grasp, snatching it back while Marlene pouted. “It’s private.”
Continuing to sulk, Dorcas smiled at Marlene. From between the sliver of space from under the wooden table and their bodies, she watched as Dorcas held Marlene’s hand; thumb grazing over her knuckles. Y/N eyed them questioningly.
“What are you not telling us?” Dorcas mused, leaning on the table with a sly smirk.
Marlene snapped her fingers. “Oi! Ginger snaps!”
Lily peered over, smile vanishing, placing her fork down. “Did you just call me a…?”
“Would you prefer traffic cone then?” Mary teased.
“I like Carrots more.” Dorcas added, shyly.
“Anyway, you two are pretty much attached,” Marlene said. Had she known better, she would have recognized Marlene’s tone for jealousy. "Who sent that letter?”
Lily shrugged but her face turned downwards at her uncomfortable body language. “She said it’s private. Leave it.”
The conversation ended at that.
Y/N felt a little nudge under the table and as she looked up, Lily’s head was tilted, conveying the silent question, ‘are you okay?’ She didn’t answer as a couple of first years bounced up to Marlene, tugging down on her sleeve. She turned to them, flicking her blond hair out of her face with a wide smile.
One first year was close to tears, another one standing on their tippy-toes to whisper something in her ear.
“Please can you come to the common room? It’s scary and I-I miss my dad!” One of the first years cried out.
Marlene cooed, hugging them lovingly. With a nod, she stood and pressed a kiss to the side of Dorcas’ cheek. She managed to make it seem like she was whispering in her ear before turning back to the group. “See you tossers later!”
Dorcas watched Marlene walk away. First years jumping, hanging off of her while Dorcas’ fingers grazed the spot on her face where she kissed her. She dazzled radiantly.
Before midnight, Y/N left her dorm, heading to the Marauder’s room and knocked on their door. She vaguely heard footsteps approaching before it opened.
She smiled before she could even register it. “Moony.”
He grinned widely. “Whiskers,” Remus said pleasantly, leaning against the door frame, his hair falling slightly over his eyes. “How may I help you?”
“Seeing you has already helped a lot.” She joked while Remus blushed madly. She laughed at his reaction. “I need to talk to Bambi.”
Remus had his eyebrows raised but opened the door wide and beckoned her in.
She noticed a bed pushed far to the left, isolated from the other beds. The curtains were almost nearly closed aside from the sliver that was still open. Black was there, book in hand with a few pieces of parchment laid surrounding him. He was already looking up at her.
They truly isolated Black from them in every way possible.
“Oh hey, Y/N.” Peter smiled before throwing her a small wrapped sweet her way. “Greetings!”
“Thanks, Pete!” She caught it. And dropped onto James’ bed. His glasses were strewn, laying on his bedside table as he flicked through his book.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Do you mind if I borrow your invisibility cloak tonight?”
James surprisingly didn’t push further as he simply went through his trunk and threw her the cloak, only asking that she would be careful with it.
She hopped out of the room, rushing out to the cold corridors and threw the cloak over her head. As she passed through various hallways, she finally opened the door to her and Regulus’ small hideout. A couple of candles were lit and the familiar Slytherin and Gryffindor blankets clashed together.
Huddled in the corner of the room on the couch, small and curled with his legs pressed against his chest and chin perched on his knees, Regulus was there, shaking.
She rushed up to him, keeping her hand visible and only touching him when he realized it was her. Consoling people was always a challenge in itself.
“What happened?”
Regulus’ voice was strained and tired. “C-can you hug me? Please?”
Her heart could have shattered as she roped him into a large, crushing hug. His aching sobs crashed through her chest. Y/N’s arms were tight around Regulus, his head face pressed against her shoulder and she could feel his tears seep through her shirt. Doing the best she could, she soothed him, petting his hair.
She couldn’t tell just how much time had passed until Regulus’ snuffles calmed down as he harshly wiped his tears. It was the first time she was able to truly get a close-up of how he looked.
To put it lightly, Regulus looked like shit.
Any of that regal, youthful glow of his diminished. And she realized it only faded whenever he went home. His skin was dull and grey, eyes sunken. Even his long hair was cut lopsidedly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.
“I… It’s…” Regulus trailed off, face full of worry and trouble. “It’s…”
“It’s okay,” she rubbed her hand up and down his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me.”
But something caught her eye. Regulus’ trousers rode up in his shaking state. A large bandage was wrapped messily on his leg. The skin around the bandage was red and a few scars peaked out. But as soon as she realized, he had too and quickly pulled the fabric down.
“... What is that?” She asked softly. She didn’t know what it was, but something heavy sunk in her chest — the feeling of sickening, frightening dread.
He refused to answer.
“You have to get that checked out —”
“No!” Regulus shouted, complete panic filtering through his face.
“Whatever that is, it isn’t going to heal properly if we don’t.”
Regulus debated for a while and she saw the conflict on his face before relenting. “I’m embarrassed by it…”
She mustered up any kind of energy left and smiled. “I won’t judge you.” She managed to catch his eye and held it. She went over her options quickly.
1. Leave Regulus?
Option one was already tossed out the window. The weight of the situation was far too grave to continue to let it slide by again and again.
2. Press further?
But how?
3. Make him feel comfortable?
Bingo.
If he was ashamed by his scars, then maybe if she showed hers…
She turned to Regulus, lifting her sleeve. A scar ran across her forearm from Snape’s attack during the Quidditch match.
“I got this a couple of months ago in a nasty fight.” Then she pointed to the small scar on her leg from when she was dragged by Moony. "I got this from an accident."
But then, she sucked in a deep breath, mustering up all her bravery and courage, pushing down every bit of insecurity. She tugged down the collar of her shirt a bit, just enough to reveal the top of a much more faded scar that travelled down to her sternum. “And I got this from a heart surgery.”
She fixed her shirt to sit properly again. “I was born with a heart defect. It went undetected until my mom found me, hardly breathing and had to perform open-heart surgery on me. I was supposed to die but here I am. Healthy and alive and I haven’t had a problem since.”
Regulus looked up at her wide-eyed and his body became less stiff.
“I used to be so… ashamed of it. Maybe I still am, I never talk about it… Only you, my mom and someone at Ilvermorny knows. But my point is, I am more than my scars, and you are too.”
She swallowed her fear, now cursing herself and resolved to shut up. Waiting, she wondered that since she showed him the scars that perhaps he would too.
Regulus considered her, almost astonished, finally moving to pull up his trousers and peeling off his bandage, wincing while doing so.
It felt like a cold bucket of water was splashed all over her body. She desperately tried to keep her face blank as the overwhelming urge to cry while combating the wave of nausea hit her.
His skin was butchered — fiery red. They weren’t neat, like what a surgeon's scalpel would be like, but messy, crisscrossed and viciously deep. It had hardly healed and they were old enough to be a little over a week or two old. And undoubtedly painful.
Whoever did that to him was enraged, furious.
“Shit… Regulus… who did this?” She asked quietly, more to herself than him as he remained silent. She stood, commanding, “We need to get you fixed up.”
“It’s not that b —”
“Stop lying.”
“Just don’t take me to the hospital wing.”
Wanting to know more, she was too afraid that any more prying would result in Regulus completely shutting down and withholding more information. Instead, she picked up the invisibility cloak, threw it over him and wrapped an arm underneath Regulus' arms to help him walk out of the room.
She went to the only other place she knew she would be able to offer any resemblance of help.
Once reaching the Potions classroom, muttering Alohomora, Y/N helped Regulus sit down comfortably at one of the extra tables and immediately got to work. All sorts of magic went around as she grabbed an extra textbook and flipped to the Essence of Dittany page.
Shelves, jars and cabinets opened and closed on their own accord, all taking ingredients as they fell into a boiling cauldron.
“What are you doing?” Regulus questioned, nervously drumming his fingers on the table.
“Making you something.”
It was still between them. She didn’t know what to say, only what to do. Everything went through her mind like a step-by-step process, like a robot categorizing its own emotions.
Because what was the right response to something like this?
She stared at the bubbling cauldron, slowly stirring to avoid eye contact. “You don’t have to tell me but… you didn’t do this to yourself —”
“No,” Regulus said, calmly and steadily.
“Then… to the person — people who did… will they bother you again?”
“Probably not… I’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.
Once the potion was completed, she poured it inside an applicator and made sure to cast a quick cleaning spell. A soft blue glow emitted around his leg until disappearing. She looked up to him, fisting his shirt and shoved it inside his mouth. “I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.”
She took the applicator, pouring a couple drops onto his wound. A greenish smoke billowed around them as it bubbled on his skin. The skin was stitching itself back together and over his wound. Regulus moaned in pain, fist banging on the wooden table.
She finally pulled the cloth from his mouth once down and ran across the room to find more clean clothes to dab off the sweat from his face. Y/N thought for a second he was going to faint.
“I’m so sorry Reg… Sorry…”
He didn’t say anything for a while, only nodding in response meanwhile she monitored his condition. She gave him the wrapped candy that Peter gave her, hoping that it would help him regain some energy. She was beginning to grow worried that she might’ve brewed it incorrectly as her mind mulled over possible counter potions.
“I know… you said... you don’t talk to my brother much…” Regulus croaked out. She closed the book, rushing up to him. “But... you are in the same friend group… right?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. A white lie wouldn’t hurt.
“Things changed. We’re friends. Why?”
There was a long pause. “Is he okay?”
A million questions went through her. Even if they were estranged, wouldn’t he know?
“He’s okay.” Lie. “He’s just been… stressed as of late.” True.
“Is he still staying with the Potter’s?”
“Yes.”
He smiled, eyelids drooping but everything about it told her something wasn’t right. “I’m glad.”
Regulus refused to let her help him walk back to the dungeons and left with his wound almost fully healed. And she was left with more questions than any answers as she slithered into bed.
What was he not telling her?
But then she thought about the summer with Matthew. Why had he been so surprised that she had been with a member of the Black family? Or how did he even know them? What was it about them that commanded so much respect and international recognition?
A couple of footsteps padded her way and Y/N felt her bed dip, a weight sliding beside her.
“Are you okay?” Lily whispered. “Been worried about you these past couple of days.”
“Yeah,” Y/N said, turning to the side to look at Lily through the night. “Jolly.”
“You sure? It can be our secret?”
She remained quiet and it gave Lily her answer. She turned onto her side before mumbling. “Feel free to stay tonight.” When she didn’t feel Lily leave, but she wiggled around to become comfortable, she sighed, forcing herself to sleep.
There was certainly far too much happening in her life at the moment for her to fully care about Lily’s bizarre and avoidant behaviour. She just wanted the next day to come.
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The next few days were uncomfortable and Y/N was beyond exhausted.
Breakfast was nothing more than her sipping on a glass of water, studying the Slytherin table, worried for Regulus.
Was he being bullied? Was he… no… the wound was a bit too old for it to have taken place at Hogwarts.
She spent most of the day in the library, simply reviewing her Herbology and Advanced Potions textbook.
Much to James’ dismay, all the free periods they had in sixth year were due to the overwhelming work and increased difficulty in lessons. Fortunately for Y/N, Potions was partially a free class and she never had to worry about it aside from the essays. It was far too easy.
During class, she would figure out new techniques, tricks, but to her dismay, Slughorn had really enjoyed how both she and Snape performed together and often paired them up during potions. She hated to admit it, but there was a reason why Snape was a favourite student of Slughorn. He had talent. Although, he was in a permanently vindictive mood around her which made him even more unbearable.
The tip of her eagle-feather quill moved across the pages of the textbook and she pulled back momentarily to review her book.
Nightshade… Powdered silver… Stewed Mandrakes… Slughorn had said it helped werewolves… What if Remus —
“Whiskers! There you are!” James said, strutting up. He sat down on the couch beside her, both tucked away in the corner of the library.
She gave a little wave of her fingers before closing her book. James suddenly became slightly dejected at her reaction. She couldn’t force herself to put on a show.
“Something wrong?”
Y/N felt like there were no answers to everything that had been happening recently. Only if Matthew was there.
But James was.
“I need to ask you something.”
His head swivelled around to see if anyone with prying ears was listening in before nodding.
“Could you tell me about the Black family?”
She had never seen James go so rigid. His cheek hallowed as he chewed the inside of his cheek and waited for her to elaborate.
“I know I don’t talk about it but Regulus is a friend of mine.” She didn’t miss the way James stiffened further at that. “And he’s… worrying me. He’s… god, I don’t know what to say.”
James threw up a silencing spell, encircling them. “It’s okay, go on.”
“Regulus’ leg was butchered. I think he’s being bullied or it’s darker than that.”
James’ skin, which was usually a warm, rich look, seemed as if it paled, almost giving him a gray appearance. “Did he say anything about his family?”
“No. But he never talks about them. Is that the reason why Black stays with you?”
“Even with the non-existent respect I have for Black, I feel like I can’t tell you much,” James said and she understood why. “But the Black family — they’re fucking insane. Their Pureblood mania is probably one of the worst I’ve ever seen.” James took a moment to look at her reaction after mentioning blood purity. “He has a reason to be scared of them.”
“So you’re telling me that his family… they hurt him?”
James looked down, the gravity of their conversation finally hitting him. He took off his round glasses, rubbing his temples. “I’m not sure. Maybe? It was probably another Slytherin. His parents… love him — I don’t see them laying a hand on him. He didn’t mention running away? Did he?”
“No.”
She heard James curse under his breath as he grabbed his hair out of habit. “I’ll talk to him.”
“About what? You can’t tell him I told you, he’ll —”
“Relax. I won’t. I’ll ask him to move in with me.”
Y/N felt like she could faint there and then. Everything in her body felt wobbly, weak as she grappled with the idea of Regulus and his home life. Then Black… did he also go through what Regulus has been through? The thought made her sick.
James’ voice tugged her back to reality. “Promise me something.” She waited for him to continue.
“I know Regulus is your friend and that he’s going through a rough time but…” James struggled with his words. “But… be careful around him. He’s not much of a threat but his family is. There’s a reason why Black lives with me; no matter how angry, how much I hate him, I would never let him go back there. To them.
“The war is approaching and they have eyes all on Regulus — watching everything he does.”
Goosebumps covered her entire body. Everything James said sounded more like an underlying threat of sorts. She wondered if that was the reason why he refused to be seen with her publicly. “Are you saying that he’s a Death Eater?”
“No,” James responded briskly. “But it’s not to say his parents won’t force him to. If you knew his family, you would understand —”
Both students snapped their heads up from the figure slowly approaching them as James eased off the silencing charm.
Professor Elway was there, holding a large leather-bound book and a stack of parchment, most likely essays she had to grade. She only gave a small nod to James before smiling widely at Y/N which caused James to mutter something vaguely familiar that sounded like ‘favouritism.’
“Ms. L/N! How wonderful to see you!” Elway was enlivened. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Oh! Erm — thank you?”
Elway laughed, “Your work has been incredible! I’m very impressed.”
She felt James nudge her under the table.
“Oh!” The professor exclaimed. “There’s a Duelling club session tonight I’m supervising. I’d love to see you there?”
“I’m sorry, but we have a paper due in Transfigurations.” James helped, cutting in for her. She felt herself relax into her chair.
In no time, Defence Against the Dark Arts became Y/N’s favourite class and duelling was incredibly fun, but all she wanted to do was sleep. Perhaps another time…
Professor Elway gave a little sigh but nodded her head. “Then I’ll see you next session! Have a good day, Ms. L/N and Mr..?”
“Potter.”
“My apologies, Mr. Potter. Have a fine day!”
While they watched her leave, both students were left with a similar deep, icy trepidation that clawed at their soul and a single question heavy in their hearts.
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【 Next Chapter 】
© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost, translate or modify
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter series#Harry Potter x reader#harry potter marauders#regulus black#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x reader#sirius black#Sirius Black x reader angst#Remus Lupin#Remus Lupin x reader#Remus Lupin x y/n#Remus Lupin x you#young!remus lupin#young!remus lupin x reader#young!sirius black x reader#young!sirius black#young marauders#marauders x reader#hp marauders#sbtmas#remus lupin imagine#James potter#hp fanfic#marauders era#reader insert#the marauders#hp angst#lily evans
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Cheryl//you can’t go through life trying not to get hurt
Request: So can I ask for a cheryl x reader where r does everything to make cheryl happy and just being supportive of her?
hey! i kind of got just a little bit carried away with this. but i think i pulled it back! i hope you like it! also, i know the title is an archie quote but i don’t really care because it fits and i like it! plus, they’re both red-heads so what’s really the difference?
- We know Cheryl hasn’t had the best life
- Her entire family and everything to do with it is tainted
- So for a long while, she thinks she’s tainted to
- And when she meets you
- On a rainy Friday night, sat by Sweetwater River
- With your hair plastered to your face and the brightest smile she’s ever seen
- She knows she has to stay away from you
- Because anybody who can be that happy sat in the pouring rain
- Is somebody too pure for her
- So she turns around and heads back to her car
- Deciding that if she wants to be alone, she can just do it at home
- But then she hears it
- Your voice
- So soft, but so demanding
- And you’re calling her name
- Her name has never sounded so pretty
- Even if it is coming from a complete stranger, who’s staring at such a dark place like its the most beautiful thing in the world
- ‘yea-yeah?’
- Her confidence slips for just a few seconds and its purely down to the way you’re looking at her
- Like she’s filled with magic and wonder and mystery
- A mystery you’re going to solve
- Spoiler alert...you do
- ‘come sit’ You pat the rock beside you and she glances warily between you and it
- It may have stopped raining but that rock is still very wet and she’s wearing a new skirt
- ‘oh come on. live a little’ Your eyes sparkle as you speak
- She eventually concedes and sits beside you
- Now she just has to make sure she doesn’t give too much away
- Never let anyone else in
- Its the mantra she’s been repeating for as long as she can remember
- This time she’s going to stick to it
- Spoiler alert...she doesn’t
- Because thats easier said than done when a pretty girl is asking her questions
- Or just paying attention to her tbh
- So she asks you questions instead
- ‘how do you know who i am?’
- Normally she’d be afraid of a complete stranger who knew her name
- But this time, she’s just curious
- She wants to know who you are
- Why you’re in Riverdale?
- How has a town so full of dark secrets and awful people managed to capture you?
- She’s expecting a long winded explanation about how you just moved from a big city
- Because lets be real, thats the only place she can picture you living
- But instead you just laugh
- Such a light, unexpected laugh
- And now she’s unsure of what to say
- What do you say to that?
- ‘i know a lot about a lot’
- ‘wow’ She mutters
- She couldn’t help it
- She is Cheryl Blossom after all
- She can’t been seen as anything other than a bitch
- But when she see’s the flash of hurt in your eyes
- She can’t help but feel even more like the worst person in the world
- She mumbles a quick apology and looks at the river instead
- ‘its fine.’ You shrug. ‘you’ve been through a lot’
- ‘how do you know?’
- ‘i just do. but you will be okay cheryl, and don’t worry, you could never taint anything. i don’t think you’re capable of even leaving a trace of something bad.’
- She really wants to say something
- But what the hell do you say to that?
- And when she turns to face you, hoping the right words will find their way somehow
- You’ve vanished
- For a split second she thinks you’re a ghost
- Its not the first time she’s had full on conversations with the dead
- But then she hears a thud
- Followed by a groan and a small ‘ow’
- And it makes her laugh
- Like properly laugh
- The first she has in a while
- She watches you stand and give her an awkward wave before actually disappearing
- For the rest of the weekend you’re the only thing she can think of
- By the time Monday rolls around she’s determined to find you
- It can’t be hard
- You’ve got to be a new student
- And Betty gives tours to all the newbies
- She’ll just ask her
- Thats easier said than done though
- She tried looking for her cousin before classes started
- She even came in early
- But no luck
- So she has to wait until lunch time
- And that makes her worry
- By lunch time, you could have been told literally everything about her
- How her brother was murdered by her father
- How awful her mother is
- She was almost assaulted
- She attempted suicide
- And she joined a cult
- Just to name a few
- Riverdale High is a breeding ground for rumours
- Usually created by her
- But they spread fast around here
- When lunch time rolls around, she’s sure you’re going to know how much of a train-wreck she actually is
- Despite all of that though
- Something inside her wills her to ask Betty about you
- She then goes on to describe everything she remembers about you
- Maybe in a little too much detail
- ‘she had sparkly y/e/c eyes’
- ‘and y/c/h hair that framed her face in just the nicest way’
- ‘and her smile...it was wonderful’
- ‘...right. did you get a name?’
- ‘if i got her name do you really think i would be here right now?’
- ‘che-’ Betty is cut off by someone calling her name
- The sound of it making Cheryl feel like she can’t breathe
- She knows that voice
- Even Betty’s name sounds nice when coming from her
- From you
- But hold on
- You’re hugging Betty
- Thats way too friendly for someone you’ve only known for half a day
- ‘hi cheryl’ Your wave is less awkward than it was on Friday night, but your smile is just as cheerful as you look at the red head.
- Okay, now she definitely doesn’t know what to say
- Betty quickly puts two and two together and smirk appears on her lips as she looks between the two of you
- She has known about your small crush on Cheryl for a while
- So she decides to help you out
- ‘what were you saying about y/n’s smile? it was amazing? no! wonderful!’
- ‘shut up betty. i think your boyfriend wants you’
- She’s practically shooing Betty away and she mutters something under her breath but walks away anyway
- Once she’s gone, Cheryl turns back to you and just stares at you
- ‘so, you go here?’
- ‘yep?’
- ‘how long?’ She really doesn’t want to know the answer
- ‘as long as you have’ You don’t seem annoyed when she looks at you
- The opposite in fact
- You kind of look amused
- ‘how have i not noticed you?’
- ‘you’ve been pre-occupied I suppose’
- ‘how can i make it up to you?’
- ‘notice me’
- ‘i’ve definitely already done that.’
- ‘take me to pops then’
- She never wanted to do something more
- But she’s torn
- She wants to say no. To keep you safe from her and everything that come with being involved with a Blossom
- But the way you’re looking at her makes her knees weak and her head dizzy
- So she says yes
- And its the best decision she’s ever made
- At first you take it slow
- She’s been hurt before
- And she’s hurt other
- But something that makes it easier is the fact that you already know everything about her
- Even if you were in the background during most of it
- She’s so excited to get to know you
- One of the first things she learns is how you’ll do anything to make the people you love happy
- Especially her
- She’s quite literally never met anybody like you
- You’re just so supportive of her
- Nobody has ever treated her like that
- So at first she doesn’t really know what to do
- But then she remembers the night you met
- And how you were so kind to her
- Even though she didn’t know who you were
- And she slowly starts to get used to it
- In return she learns how to be more supportive of others
- Something her friends are incredibly grateful for
- To the actual supporting/happy bit because I kind of got a bit carried away
- Whenever she’s sad
- Whether it be because she’s missing Jason
- Her mom/other family members have made an unwelcome appearance in her life
- Someone has been rude to her
- Or she’s just sad
- You will do literally anything and everything to make her smile
- Cuddles? Hell yeah!
- She wants to stay in bed all day? That sounds like an amazing day.
- She wants to watch her favourite film/tv show? Definitely
- ‘where do you keep your dvd’s?’
- ‘what century are you living in? you know there is a thing called the internet.’
- She wants her favourite food from Pops? You’re already out the door
- You’ll go for drives around town while she tells you stories of her and Jason
- Or you’ll let her teach your archery or some other weird hobby she has
- Plus, you’ll tell her all the stupid jokes you know
- Usually she laughs more out of pity than humour
- But it still counts
- ‘sure it does babe’
- And if someone has made her angry
- It doesn’t really take much
- But you’re working on it
- You are 100% behind her if she wants to ruin their life (in moderation)
- You go along with whatever crazy plan/scheme she’s though of that week
- She wants to start a business? Where do you sign? This is the best idea ever
- Steal something from somebody thats wronged her? Where is the best place to buy spy-wear
- Create a little chaos? You’ve already got three ideas planned out you just need her approval
- Its not just silly things either
- She decides she wants to go to therapy (everybody in this town needs it, including Pop). You’ll go with her and wait outside of every single session if she wants you to.
- You usually spend the time googling how to help her (she just thinks you spend the entire time on Instagram)
- She wants to properly cut off her family (with the exception of Nana Rose and the twins). You 100% support her if thats what she wants
- As your relationship grows, so does your support
- She’s literally never felt more loved than when she’s with you
- And you make it a mission to make her feel like this for the rest of her life
- Spoiler alert...you do
support my writing! if you want!
#cheryl blossom#cheryl blossom imagine#cheryl blossom x reader#cheryl blossom x you#cheryl blossom x y/n#riverdale#riverdale imagine#cheryl#cheryl imagine#cheryl x reader
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fic: the apprentice year
Here’s something I wrote for a zine, a while back. Maybe someone’s in the mood for quiet s8 angst.
(read on AO3)
It's raining when Sam crashes the car. Middle of the night, Texas somewhere. Not enough sleep, not that sleep could possibly help, and bad visibility, and this numbness that started in his gut but has taken over every part of him. Not the best conditions. Narrow two-lane highway, headlights blurring through the dark wet, and then there's a flash—white-and-brown and small, a dog?—and he swerves hard, and then it's—squeal of brakes, the tires sliding, a smash.
He breathes slow, both hands curled around the steering wheel. Car's still on, rumbling idle. His head hurts. Hard to see through the rain but it looks like he killed a sapling. He unclenches one hand from the wheel and touches his forehead—wet—and the windshield's cracked again, and he turns around in the seat to see the dog bolting off down the road. He opens the door and steps out into the mud and, yes. A broken tree, and a mile marker crumpled, and the paint all scraped up, and the windshield. He wipes his forehead again and his fingers are smeared red. He puts that hand on the car and then has to—his legs crumple—he crouches, letting the car take his weight, feeling the engine in his bones. He can't think, with the rain this loud. His head hurts. He says, out loud, "I don't think I can do it," but it's hard to hear over the downpour, and anyway, no one's there to hear. No one's there.
*
There's a mechanic down the street from a motel. The windshield will be three hundred and that feels like too much but then, who would Sam ask, who'd be honest. He asks them to repaint, too, so he doesn't have to see the gouges of his fuckup. The mechanic looks at his forehead instead of at his eyes. "You get that looked at, sir?" he says.
Sam walks through the damp morning to the motel. The clerk frowns at him but Sam puts a hundred in cash on the counter and then there's the room, dim with the curtains drawn. Two beds—why? Habit. He's been sleeping in the car so that people won't ask the question. Trying to sleep. He takes off his wet muddy clothes and runs a shower, hot, and there's mud on his hands and blood too and the cut on his head bleeds pink against the white tub, and he's so tired he wants to just sit down, right there in the bathtub and let the water pound against his face and make it so he can't think about anything else, so he can't, so he won't have to—but he can't. He has to pick up the car at some point. He turns off the shower and dries off and walks naked through the dim room to the bed closer to the door and he crawls under the blanket and puts his face into the pillow and thinks that he won't sleep, because how can he sleep in a queen bed in a motel room in a town he doesn't know without his brother. He can't possibly. He can't, but he has to, because his brother is dead.
*
It took a while to come to that conclusion. Dick was gone. The air, throbbing thick and strange. The room empty. Sam stood alone in that awful building with distant alarms wailing and his head and heart entirely still, because there had been a place where his brother was, and now he wasn't there anymore.
He did research. He asked questions. He prayed, and when there were no answers to his praying he burned acacia and camphor and blood-red petals of anemone and demanded a demon, but none came. He knelt on the road at midnight with dirt caked under his broken nails and was prepared to offer—what little it was worth, that he could offer—but no one arrived to take a deal. It was like the world he'd always known was there, that darker mystery that swirled under the daytime normalcy everyone else knew, had just vanished. Gone. He was finally free to live a life that was average, and safe, and boring, but what did it matter—how could it matter, without Dean.
There was booze but then there wasn't. There was a brief, considering moment when a dealer in Kansas City saw Sam's expression and offered relief, but it would've failed the same way the booze had. There was staying up until he had no choice but to pass out in the backseat and forgetting to eat and driving, nowhere, with no destination in mind, because what was there? A job, a ghost, a brutal and pointless putting of one foot in front of the other, when the only thing that had ever mattered, the only thing that had made the life he'd chosen worth choosing, was—
He drove until he nearly hit a dog, and hit a tree instead. He stopped not because he wanted to but because there didn't seem to be any point in driving more. He got a motel. He slept, because that was all there was left to do.
*
When he wakes up the room is dim with afternoon. The sun on the other side of the building. A reflection, from the vacancy sign outside, that throws up a white square on the wall. He watches it for a while, tracking how it moves slow over the wallpaper, thinning out as the sun falls. A slow eclipse, until it disappears.
What the hell, he hears.
He sits up, ignores the head-throb from moving. There, boots on the carpet, standing in the way of the bathroom, looking around like the motel's a surprise—six feet (forget the lie about the extra inch) and strong and beautiful as he ever, ever was—Sam swallows, drags in air that feels like it can't fit in his chest with everything that's roaring up in it—Dean frowns, and looks at him, and says, in a voice that sounds distant, Sammy, what the fuck.
Sam stands up and staggers. His head, god. He tries to step forward and it's Dean who comes to him, looking around, saying what's going on, where is this—are you— and Sam braces on the bedside table and reaches out but then Dean flickers, somehow, like a broadcast jolted with static, and Sam's hand curls in the air between them, his body flinching even if his mind doesn't quite get it yet.
Dean stops in his tracks and looks down. Spreads his hands, looking at the scarred knuckles and the more-scarred palms. Sam manages to get himself under control and stands up straight, and takes the step that means he's inches away, but no longer dazed from waking he can see: Dean's not here. Dean's not quite here. There's an almost-shimmery distance to him. A projection, on an inadequate screen. Sam looks at his face and just faintly the outlines of the room present are present, showing through him. A bitter taste in the back of his throat and he swallows, again, but manages to say, out loud, "Are you real?"
Dean looks up at him, brow furrowed. Could ask you the same thing, sport. Sam laughs, sort of, caught in his throat, and Dean's face changes. Jesus, you look like shit.
"Thanks," Sam says. Dean flickers again and it's nauseating to see the blank space where he was, even if he half-solidifies a second later. "God. I—can't believe this is happening."
Okay, but what is happening, Dean says, and looks around again. This isn't… He shakes his head and even half-there Sam can see the confusion, the annoyance at the confusion. His brother. His chest aches. I wasn't here. Where's here?
"Texas," Sam says. He still hasn't caught the name of the town. He reaches out because he can't not and his fingers brush—what? Nothing. The air's insubstantial because it's air. Dean looks down at his chest where Sam's not touching him and he says, very quiet, shit , and then he looks up and says shit, Sam , more loudly, and he reaches up and doesn't touch Sam's face because of course he can't, and it's only then that Sam realizes he's crying.
Hey , Dean says, and Sam shakes his head. "It's fine," he says, although of course it's not fine. Dean's eyes, concerned, and his nose with the bump Sam's so often traced with one finger, and his mouth, full and worried. He passes his thumb over where he ought to be able to touch Dean's bottom lip and Dean's eyelids flicker, his mouth parting. Sam shakes his head again, dizzy. Dean. He didn't think he'd see him again, outside of an afterlife he hadn't yet decided to try for.
Texas, huh? Dean says, after a few seconds. He smiles, fake devil-may-care, the expression that Sam's always loved and kind of wanted to smack him for, in equal measure. He looks Sam up and down, and raises his eyebrows, and says, guess it's true they make things bigger here, and it's only then that Sam remembers that he's naked, and even like this, a ghost or a hallucination or a fever-dream, Dean can make him roll his eyes. Dean's grin widens and he passes a never-there touch over Sam's bare chest. Hey, slugger, can't blame me for—
He disappears.
Sam stands there, alone, for a few seconds. He breathes deep, in and out. He passes his hand through the space where Dean wasn't and of course there's nothing there, and then he sits back down, on the bed, braced on his knees, looking at the faded plaid of the wallpaper and the day through the flimsy curtain. His face is still wet and so he knows—he hasn't cried, since that day, so he knows that something happened today that was different from all the ones that came before it. Dean's dead, gone, and yet he isn't. Sam licks his lips. That means there's—something to do.
*
He eats. He sleeps. He goes and picks up the car, and the mechanic looks less concerned when Sam takes the keys. He goes back to the room and reads a book, for a few hours, and doesn't remember a thing when he lifts his eyes from the page. He showers, again, before bed, and when he comes out the room is hot, and he taps the air conditioner and realizes, shit. Busted.
The clerk in the office is unhelpful. "I can move your room," he says, reluctant to do even that, but Sam's not leaving the room where he saw Dean. "Maintenance guy quit, so we're gonna have to call someone, might be a day or two."
Sam looks at him and chews the inside of his cheek. "You have the last guy's tools?"
He's never fixed an air conditioner but he knows how to use the internet. It turns out it's a little harder than the diagrams make it look. While he's got sweat between his shoulderblades and he's considering percussive maintenance that there's a huff of a laugh, behind him, and Dean says dude, you look like you're gonna have a stroke .
Behind him, raised eyebrows and amusement. A cut on his cheek—new? From what? "Sue me," Sam says, irritated. "I didn't go to HVAC school." Dean's grinning and the irritation washes away like it was never there. Sam steps forward and Dean's face changes, too, looking all over him. "Dean," Sam says, and feels— "Where are you? What's going on?"
Dean shakes his head. You know as much as I do, man. He hesitates. It's like—I've been asleep and I just woke up, but I can't remember what I was dreaming about.
Are you dead. The sentence forms under Sam's tongue and he swallows it. If Dean doesn't know then asking won't help, and if he is then Sam's sunk the same way he's been for the last month. Are you real is the next question, but then if he's not real then that means Sam's crazy, and Sam knows from crazy and, really, if he is, this is the best crazy he could hope for.
Dean's looking at him, not smiling at all, now. I miss you , Dean says, unexpectedly. He flickers—like he did before, a projection cutting out—but he's shaking his head hard when he resolidifies. Shit. I don't—I don't know what that is. I don't get it. You're right here and I'm missing you. How does that work?
"I don't know," Sam says, "but I know exactly what you mean."
The corner of Dean's mouth turns up, but it's not glad. Sam breathes out slowly, the hard knot of grief in his chest barely allayed.
It feels impossible. Maybe it is. He doesn't try to reach out again and neither does Dean. Dean's eyes flick up to the A/C unit and he jerks his chin. You need to take out the compressor , he says. Check the fuse box. I can walk you through it.
Sam's eyes are hot. "I know how to check a fuse," he says, and Dean raises his eyebrows at him. "Not completely useless."
Prove it , Dean says. Bitch .
Sam rolls his eyes and turns away so Dean won't see that they're wet, and does.
*
Dean comes and goes according to some clock Sam doesn't get to see. Most days, Sam doesn't do much. He eats, showers, shits, sleeps. He watches bad daytime TV and not-much-better nighttime TV. He reads. He takes the car out on drives through the country. Flat around here, and what little green there is browning in the heat of summer. The office manager says he can stay at the motel for free if he keeps fixing things and so he does, and sometimes he's got his head under a kitchenette sink trying to figure out how not to dump backed-up foulness onto his face when there's a presence, all of a sudden, and his brother's voice saying why the hell are you using that wrench?
Sam's alone except when he's with Dean. The days smooth out into a routine. He wakes up sometimes and Dean's sitting there, on the edge of the bed somehow even though he can't really touch anything, and Dean'll say took you long enough, sleeping beauty , and Sam will roll his eyes and say, "Look who's talking, didn't you sleep through an actual earthquake once?" and Dean will grin and Sam will stretch out on his back and they'll bicker about the time in Portland, Maine, when Dad tanned both their hides for not being ready for the werewolf hunt at midnight, and they both insisted it was the other's job to set the alarm. I told you , Dean'll say, eyes crinkled like he's trying not to laugh, and Sam'll launch into his theory about how Dean's memory is shot from too much booze, and they'll waste the time, that way, ragging on each other. Other times Dean will be quiet, and so Sam will too, and they'll look at each other with their hands an inch apart on the blanket, and Dean will say, after a while, you remember? and Sam won't know what he's referring to, exactly, but he'll swallow and he'll say that, yeah, yeah. He remembers.
Moonlight makes Dean's face a strange, alien blue. In the day he's golden, gorgeous, cracks jokes and makes fun of the way Sam holds a screwdriver. Sometimes he has bruises; sometimes there's blood dried on the angles of his eyesocket. Once he shows up holding his ribs like something got him, wherever he is, and he just sits with his back to the kitchen cabinets while Sam fixes a garbage disposal and rambles about some time in Tulane when he dropped a ghoul and then banged a supermodel, that same night. "Oh, really," Sam says, pulling open the gears while he tries not to think about splintered bones, about the fragility of lungs, about the soft vulnerable edge of Dean's beating heart. "Tyra Banks or Kate Moss?"
Okay, Dean says, and does it sound thin? Hurt? So maybe not a 'super' model. But she was hot. He rolls his head to look at Sam and winks. Not as hot as some people, though. Don't worry .
"I was in a panic," Sam says, dry, and Dean chuffs laughing and then coughs, pained, and says, nodding at Sam's job, you're gonna want a 5/8ths for that , and in the next second he's gone. Sam braces his hands on the counter and breathes deep for a solid minute, bleeding inside his chest, before he goes into the toolbox, and gets the 5/8ths wrench.
*
The first time they were young, even if at the time Sam would've said otherwise. Their dad was gone and they were alone, really alone, for the first time in their lives—only, they weren't. They'd never been. An argument and a bad night and going out and finding Dean sitting on the hood of some wreck in Bobby's junkyard, and they'd said—he can't remember. Not everything. He does remember very precisely the moment when he gripped Dean's wrist and Dean looked up at him like he was surprised and Sam had said, you know, Dean, you know what I— and Dean had covered Sam's mouth with three fingers like it wouldn't be true, if he didn't say it. But then he tugged his hand away and he leaned up and kissed Sam, anyway, so it didn't matter so much, if Sam said it or didn't. That was the first time.
Over the years they fell closer together and farther apart. They hurt each other, sometimes so badly Sam thought it'd be forever broken and he'd just have to live that way, with his ribs split apart, bleeding where anyone could see. When they came back together it felt like nothing could ever split them up again. Not demons, or angels, or death.
The last time, they were in a cabin in Montana, and they were going to do something nuts in the morning. What else was new. It was quick, and then it was slow, and afterward Dean lay half-sprawled over Sam's chest, the two of them sticking together with sweat and worse, and Dean tipped his forehead against Sam's collarbone and sighed. This is such a dumb plan , he said, and Sam drew two fingers up from between his shoulderblades to the little soft hollow at the top of his spine, where his hair was shorn to velvet, and where Sam tended to bury his nose, when they slept in the same bed. When they let themselves do that. Yeah, Sam said, after too long, but when has that ever stopped us? Dean snorted, and rolled away, and Sam curled behind him that night in the too-small bed, and in the morning, for once, Dean woke up first, and he smacked Sam's shin and said come on, sleeping beauty, time to ride , and Sam groaned and got up and didn't think about it, much, and then that night Dean was dead. Gone, or dead.
He thinks about it, now. What he would've done, if he knew that was the last time he'd be allowed to touch his brother. What he might've said, if they'd had the chance. Before hell—before hell for both of them—they'd known what was coming down the pipe, and they'd been scared, and they hadn't screwed either time, or slept together, even. They sat, shoulder-to-shoulder, staying awake past midnight and through to dawn, and when it was time—they'd gotten in a goodbye, each of them, and Sam had ached to know how little that was. How it wasn't enough. This time—he didn't get a goodbye. He gets to look, but not touch. He gets to smile at him nearly every day and he gets Dean's jokes and his ridiculous stories and his safe, sure guidance, his eyes on Sam's speaking the promise they always gave each other—and it isn't, it isn't nearly, it isn't close, to enough.
*
Summer passes into fall, and fall into winter. Sam doesn't reach for the wrong wrench as often. He takes a drive through a cool twilight and when he opens the motel room door with a six-pack in hand, Dean appears one second later, looking out at the car through the window, and he says hey, how's the carb treating you?
He sits at the table in the room, taking the carburetor apart piece by careful piece. Dean looks over his shoulder, leaning on the table (somehow), pointing out where Sam's screwing it up (constantly). "Maybe if you weren't breathing down my neck," Sam says, and Dean snorts and says wouldn't have to if you'd ever paid attention to anything that wasn't Eskimo poetry , and then Sam tells Dean that Eskimo isn't an appropriate word to use, and Dean tells Sam that he need to clear the sand out of his vagina, and—it's not enough, but god if Sam isn't happier than he's been in—how long? Since the last time Dean was sitting right there, with his arms folded over the back of a chair, grinning at Sam and getting under his skin and just being—everything. Everything that mattered.
It starts to rain, before Sam's done. He leaves all the parts spread out and clean to dry on the table and sinks onto the couch with his beer, and Dean looking at him still from his backwards perch on the chair, and his grin softened down to something else. "What," Sam says, tipping his head against the wall. He's feeling mellow. In pain, maybe crazy. Content. Desperate. The usual. He's gotten used to it. Thinking maybe it'll be this way, ever after. Thinking he can handle it, if that's so. Dean's here even if he's not here, and that means that Sam doesn't want to be anywhere else.
Dean's got a bruise on his cheekbone, again. A cut on his lower lip. He looks tired. He flickers, precursor maybe to disappearing, but he stays. In the dim light he looks almost real. Almost present, like Sam could reach out and get his hand around his jaw and tell him everything he's ever thought, everything he ever wished for the two of them. How he meant it, when he told Dean there was nothing he wouldn't do. Even live, if that's what it came down to, just for the hope to see Dean's face, one more time.
The rain's loud, on the eaves of the motel. Dean hasn't said anything. Still just watching, his eyes steady. His mouth that soft curve. "What?" Sam says, again.
Oh, Dean says, quiet. You know.
Sam does.
#wincest#my writing#the formatting on this keeps feeling fucked but i'm just going with it#if i can't write right now#i can at least post stuff i wrote like six months ago
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The Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Jumper
Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!
Drarry | 2k | Teen and Up | Eighth Year, Pining, Fluff | Read on AO3
“Harry!"
Ron and Hermione halted, leaving Harry no choice but to do the same. He was exhausted, and it had already taken too much energy to get up from their table at the Three Broomsticks so they could make it to the Hogwarts grounds before Filch closed the gates in their faces. The last thing he wanted was to talk to people, lovely as Madam Rosmerta was.
“Sorry to keep you, kids, but someone forgot this on one of the tables. Would you please do me the favour of taking it back to Hogwarts with you? I still have patrons to attend.”
“Uh...sure.” Harry took the khaki jumper she was handing him—gosh, but it was much softer than it looked—and she smiled at him appreciatively.
“How do you know it’s from a Hogwarts student, though?” Hermione asked.
Madam Rosmerta snorted.
“Because none of my patrons are naive enough to step into the inn whenever you kids are taking over the town. Teenagers are loud as all hell, in case you hadn’t noticed!”
“All right,” Harry said quickly, dreading the idea of the exchange turning into a full-fledged conversation. “We’ll take care of it. Have a nice evening, Madam Rosmerta.”
On their way back to the castle, though, Harry started to regret his decision. It was the beginning of the school year, and the transition from summer to autumn had fooled many Hogwarts students into putting on warm clothes to fight the morning chill, which meant practically everyone had ended up carrying jumpers and jackets over their shoulders and around their waists for most of the day. The jumper could be anyone’s.
“What are you going to do with the jumper, anyway? It could be anyone’s,” Hermione echoed his thoughts, turning from Ron to Harry.
“I have no idea,” Harry admitted.
“Maybe you could hand it to one of the Heads of House. Or...” Her voice shifted into that tone of hers that meant she knew she’d come up with a brilliant idea, “we could tell the ghosts to ask around the castle and see if anyone is missing a jumper!”
Even as Harry nodded, Ron shook his head in disbelief.
“Or you could just smell it,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and he couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to either of them. Harry and Hermione just stared at him. “What?”
“That’s kind of creepy,” Harry said.
“Wha— No it’s not! Don’t you know clothes smell like their owners?” Silence. Ron looked increasingly exasperated. “Come on, don’t tell me your families didn’t smell the clothes lying around the house all the time to figure out who they belonged to!”
“Er…I’m afraid not.”
“That’s probably only a necessity when you have seven kids’ clothes to keep track of,” Hermione offered.
“Yeah…fair enough,” Ron grumbled. “Still, it won’t hurt to try. If it’s from someone our year we’ll probably be able to recognise them.”
Harry doubted that would be the case, but then Hermione and Ron turned to him, expectant, and he didn’t have a choice but to bring a corner of the jumper to his face and give it a sniff.
“...Oh.”
“Well?” Hermione asked.
“It’s…” Harry smelled it again. “It’s familiar.” Familiar and nice, he thought, giving it one extra sniff for good measure. “But I just can’t tell who it is.”
“Oh?” Ron grabbed a sleeve, brought it to his nose. “Hmm…Yeah, I see what you mean. It’s definitely not a Gryffindor bloke. ‘Mione, why don’t you try?”
“I’ll pass, thank you very much.”
“Eh, that’s fine. I’m sure if we leave it in the Eighth Year Common Room someone will claim it sooner or later.”
“Yeah,” Harry murmured, folding the jumper properly over his arm.
As a new conversation started, Harry held the jumper a little bit closer.
***
The stupid thing was still where they’d left it—hung over one of the Common Room couches, the one nearest the hearth—when they came back from Hagrid’s, its pale khaki tone contrasting starkly with the purple sofa.
Hermione led the way to their usual corner of the room, keen on getting some more homework done before bed, and Harry tried to ignore the jumper, just visible out of the corner of his eye. His friends had clearly forgotten about it, and Harry didn’t bring it up again.
But the feel of it, the scent of it, was ingrained in his thoughts, and concentrating on his Potions essay soon proved to be an impossible task. Merlin, he knew that scent. He knew it well; every time he’d sniffed the jumper, it’d been like a word was on the tip of his tongue; like a thought in the back of his mind wouldn’t come forth.
Like there was a need, buried deep within him, that he couldn’t fulfill, because he didn’t know what it was he was yearning for. Who it was he was yearning for.
So he looked. Every few minutes, as much as he tried to avoid it, he looked back at the couch, waiting, hoping that someone would walk past and go, Hey! That’s where it was! And the missing piece inside Harry’s mind would finally click.
But no one picked the jumper up, and when practically everyone had gone to their dorms, and Ron and Hermione had finished neglecting their homework—Ron’s fingers tracing Hermione’s knuckles, her cheek resting on his shoulder, a goofy smile brightening his face—and seemed ready to call it a night, Harry decided he simply couldn’t leave it alone.
“You guys go ahead,” he told them. “I feel like I’m finally making progress with this essay, and if I stop now it’s going to be impossible to pick it up again tomorrow.”
As soon as he was alone, though, Harry stuffed the parchment in his bag and made for the couch at a pace just slightly faster than could be reasonably considered walking.
Ah. The scent was just as enticing as he remembered it from earlier.
Harry basked in it for a few moments. When someone walked into the Common Room—Terry and Hannah, who nodded at him on their way to their dorms—he let go of it as though it had burned him, but as soon as he was alone again he draped it over his lap and raked a hand over it, thinking, wondering.
It wasn’t Hannah’s or Terry’s, Harry knew: not just because they hadn’t recognised it on sight, but because the smell did not belong to either of them. It was…deeper. It was masculine, definitely—a hint of sweat at the armpit area, like the owner hadn’t taken it off straight away after growing hot underneath it—and it was intense, in that it did things to Harry; riled him up, and brought him back down from the high, only to make his heart quicken again as soon as the thrill of it had diluted in his veins.
Sighing, Harry lay on his back and placed the jumper, once again, over the armrest behind his head, just close enough for the scent to reach him.
The hearth crackled. A House Elf vanished the crumbs and dust from the floor with a spell and disappeared again. Nearly-Headless Nick floated by, but didn’t seem to notice him.
The door to the Common Room didn’t open again.
***
“Are we going to do this every night now?” Greg grumbled, dragging the last word—practically dragging himself to the Common Room behind Draco.
“Only until I force Slughorn to give me an Outstanding,” Draco said. “Which won’t take long, because my first essay was clearly perfect, and if that one wasn’t enough for him, this one will for sure. I swear that old man has it out against me!”
A portrait shushed him, and Draco flipped it the bird. It wasn’t like there was anyone sleeping in the bloody halls. Or roaming them, for that matter: only Prefects and Eighth Years were allowed outside the Common Rooms past curfew, and it had been a good hour since he’d seen any of the former around.
“Gardyloo,” he told Sir Cadogan upon reaching the Eighth Year Common Room entrance. Glad as he was that he didn’t have to share a space with people from other years, entering his new Common Room had to be one of the most draining moments of his day. And so, before Sir Cadogan could start spewing nonsense about him and Greg, Draco Silencio’d him, watching as the knight gestured dramatically without uttering a sound until the door had closed.
��Draco, isn’t that your…?”
Draco saw it just as Greg pointed at it.
“My jumper.” Salazar, he’d put that jumper on that morning, hadn’t he? When had he even taken it off? He’d completely forgotten all about it.
He doubted he would ever forget the sight that greeted them, however.
“Uh, Draco…? What’s Potter doing with your jumper?”
“It would seem that he is cuddling it, Gregory,” Draco said, tone flat. Completely out of tune with his raging thoughts.
“More like curling himself around it,” Greg murmured, and Draco could only agree.
Merlin. Potter looked so young when he slept. So small, like he was afraid to take up space. His hair fanned over his forehead and his face, some of it caught between his arm and Draco’s jumper. His chest falling and rising slowly, evenly. His feet pressed close as if to keep their warmth.
Draco shook his head, annoyed that he had allowed himself to be caught off-guard by the sight, and walked up to Potter. Grasped his jumper, and pulled at it.
Potter’s eyes snapped open and stared right into his.
***
Oh.
Oh.
“Fuck,” Harry slurred, sitting up, half-asleep and entirely too awake, as Malfoy took the jumper from him and just stared at him. “Fuck. Sorry. Madam Rosmerta told me to bring it…the...you’d left it there. It’s yours, right?” he asked, even though he didn’t need to. It was Malfoy’s, of course it was Malfoy’s. His strong, deep, alluring scent was unmistakable now.
“Yes,” Malfoy said. He sounded weird—strained. His eyes were fixed on Harry. “It’s mine.”
“Right,” Harry nodded. Then, after a few moments: “Er. Sorry about that. I must’ve fallen asleep.”
Malfoy snorted.
“Never would’ve guessed.”
“Can we go to bed now?”
Harry whipped his head around—he hadn’t noticed Goyle was there with them.
“Go ahead,” Malfoy told him. “I’m right behind you.”
“M’kay then. G’night, Potter,” Goyle said with a yawn, dragging his feet to the stairs.
“Er…night?”
Malfoy huffed again.
“Don’t mind him. He’s an idiot when he’s sleepy.”
“No offence, but he’s an idiot all the time,” Harry said.
“You’re one to talk.” Malfoy looked at him, then. He wasn’t as stiff now, although he was still weirdly clinging to his jumper, a gesture that reminded Harry of his own fixation with it earlier. “No one with more than two brain cells falls asleep in the Common Room, honestly.”
“Piss off, I was exhausted!”
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” Malfoy retorted. “That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t utilise your perfectly comfortable bed to meet the need, though.”
Harry glared at him, and Malfoy arched an eyebrow.
“Well?”
“Why do you want to know so bad?” Harry bit back—a little childishly, he knew, but it wasn’t like Malfoy was acting much more maturely right now. “Did you enjoy the sight that much?”
“Wh—don’t be preposterous!” Malfoy spluttered, a grimace distorting his sharp features. A grimace that did nothing to distract Harry from the angry blush spreading across his cheeks. From the way Malfoy averted his gaze, clutching at the jumper so hard he was almost twisting it.
“Oh my god,” Harry breathed. “You did enjoy it, didn’t you?”
Malfoy’s panicked gaze turned back to him.
“No, I didn’t!”
Almost as mesmerised as he was amused, Harry stood. He took one more look at Malfoy’s increasingly flushed expression, just to be sure he wasn’t reading it wrong, and then stepped into Malfoy’s personal space. When Malfoy’s breath hitched, Harry, heart in his throat, brought a hand to his flushed cheek. It was soft: softer than the jumper.
Malfoy stood completely still, wide eyes stuck on Harry’s face. A breath stuck in his lungs: waiting.
Heart racing, Harry let his hand stray back. Let himself caress Malfoy’s cheek and jaw, let himself cup Malfoy’s head at the nape, play with the hair there—Merlin, was there anything about Malfoy that wasn’t illegally soft?—and lean forward to take a long, deep sniff of his hair.
Malfoy shivered, and it suddenly hit Harry just how close their bodies were.
“Potter.” a broken whisper.
Harry inhaled again, his own skin tingling with excitement—anticipation—lust for that scent. That scent that belonged to Malfoy, that now had every reason to drive him fucking insane, to draw him near, to leave him hanging. How had he not recognised it straight away? There was nobody else who could elicit such a response from him. Whose mere closeness thrilled him like this.
“I needed to know,” Harry said, voice low, as he let his hand slide down slightly, a caress that ended on the jut of Malfoy’s spine at the base of his neck, fingers splayed over the edge of a shoulder blade. Then, pulling back his hand, taking a step back: “I needed to know who that intoxicating scent belonged to.”
As Harry retreated toward the stairs, Malfoy swayed, eyes closed. Jumper clutched close to his chest.
***
The following evening, when Harry arrived at the Common Room after dinner, a deep grey jumper was draped over the armrest of the couch closest to the hearth.
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Hewwo!💕 jk jk. May I request a scnario (or headcanon what is easier for you) of shoto x izuku's older sister!reader. (Since tgis is an xreader blog maybe she is adopted? Ur choice) Maybe she meet him after the sports festival, and the only person that knew about her besides izuku was bakugo, and she is just so sweet and full of the fluffs that make his heart go boom. Sorry if I'm too specific 😅 love you💕
Um, hi! First of all, I am SO very sorry for the amount of time it took me to write this. Like seriously, I try to get things done in order, but for some reason requests have been a bitch to write. Second, I also love you! <3 And third, I love this idea! I hope you don’t mind, but I wrote it so that Izuku’s big sis was biologically related. Also, it’s mostly from Shouto’s point of view. I hope this is okay!
N/N = Nickname
It’s yours! Your quirk, not his!
Midoriya’s words repeated themselves over and over again in Shouto’s head as he trekked down the hall, trying to find the other boy before he left the stadium for the night. Crowds were already filtering into the upper halls to exit after the winners had been officially announced, and he didn’t feel like dealing with the hassle of being asked questions and giving statements about his second place win. Honestly, he could care less about that right now; he had a lot to think about, and most of it revolved around his scum bag father and his new...acquaintance? Rival? Friend? What was Midoriya to him, anyway? They’d almost been complete strangers before the sports festival, but now he felt a sort of connection to the other boy he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was all so...confusing.
“Excuse me-!” Someone bumped into his left shoulder as they whirled past him, clearly in a hurry to get to their destination. “I’m sorry, oh-! Um...” A girl that Shouto didn’t recognize slowed only a little as she turned to apologize, a panicked expression on her face as she walked backwards without watching where she was going. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed one last time before turning around and bolting off, almost knocking over a startled Tokoyami in the process.
Shouto stared after her dumbfounded, not sure what to make of the situation. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts again after the distraction, but he collected himself and turned to Tokoyami as the other male strode past him.
“Do you know where Midoriya ran off to? I need to speak with him.”
“Midoriya, hm?” Fumikage paused as he thought about it for a moment. “I believe he was headed in the same direction as that girl, actually.”
Without so much as a thank you, Shouto started down the hallway again, faster this time now that he knew where he was going. It didn’t take him long at all to catch up to the girl he saw earlier, and he could hear her stumbling her way to her own destination just around the corner, muttering apologies and greetings as she tried to stay out of the way of others. But just as he turned, she seemingly vanished, and he frantically looked around before spotting a rapidly closing door a few feet away.
There.
As he inched closer, he heard voices coming from inside; one of which belonged to Midoriya, he was sure, and the other... He tore open the door at the last minute before it could slam shut, barging in on the middle of a conversation between Midoriya and the mystery girl.
“-reckless, baka! Honestly, Izu...”
“I’m fine, N/N! Recovery Girl fixed me already, and they said I did really well in sur...gery, so-” Midoriya’s voice wavered on the last half of his sentence; clearly he was afraid of the reaction he would get by telling this girl about his injuries. “Anyways, I can hold my own! You don’t always have to worry about me, you know. I can take care of myself now...”
“Surgery!? Oh, Izuku... I know you can, but as your sister, it’s kind of my job to worry about you, whether it makes you embarrassed or not!”
Sister...?
Said sister smacked the top of her brother’s head lightly, earning a light blush and a pitiful “Ow, Y/N!” from her younger sibling. “Careful! My head already has enough bumps and bruises from the festival...”
“Eh, what’s one more from a good scolding? You’ll live, kiddo.” Todoroki would hardly call that a scolding. Even with her playful words, she gently smoothed a hand over his hair, ruffling it in a tender way while gazing at him with concern. “I am proud of you. You’ve come a long way, otoutosan. Just please try to take better care of yourself. I think you nearly killed mom.”
Todoroki took a moment to really look at the two of them. Since when did Midoriya have a sister? It wasn’t like the two of them were close, so he wouldn’t have known anyway, but it came as sort of a shock that not only did Midoriya have a sibling, but they were older than him as well. His prior objective momentarily forgotten, he watched as they interacted with each other, noting how similar their features seemed yet so different at the same time. The two of you shared the same fluffy hair (though Todoroki thought the colors differed), the same nose shape, and of course what he considered to be the trademark of the Midoriya clan: those kind, round, determined eyes that he just couldn’t help but stare into-
“T-Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya broke him out of his thoughts, the greenette staring at him with a puzzled expression from across the room. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you heading home?”
Shouto was no longer sure that he wanted to talk to the other boy. He felt like he had intruded on a private conversation, like he wasn’t wanted here. And if he was being honest, it wasn’t fair of him to dump all of his problems on Midoriya. And now that he was really putting effort and thought into it, he wasn’t sure he was ready to even talk about his struggles at all. Besides...he knew deep down he needed to confront the issue at hand directly, and not just through venting to someone else. But before he could think of an excuse to leave, Midoriya’s sister cut in, clearly reading the tension between the two boys and wanting to ease some of it.
“Hey, I know you. You’re that Todoroki kid, right? I was watching your match with Izuku from the stands; you were amazing out there! You both were. You sure gave Izu a run for his money, huh? That’s saying something, considering my little brother is practically a stubborn bull when he sets his mind to anything. He doesn’t give up until he’s won, so I would say you’ve got quite the talent and willpower!” you said cheerily with a grin. “If you heard anyone screaming during your match, it was probably me. I like to show my support for my fam!” As if to emphasize your point, you slung an arm around your little brother’s shoulders.
Todoroki briefly recalled hearing someone shout Izuku’s name in the distance during their match, but he had been so focused on beating his opponent and being angry at his father that he hadn’t really noticed it at the time. “Mm. So that was you,” he stated plainly.
“Yep! Sure was! Anyways...” You suddenly made direct eye contact with Todoroki, and he swore you were looking right through him as you spoke, “It was nice to meet one of Izu’s friends, finally. I was starting to worry that maybe you guys didn’t exist.” You laughed as Izuku playfully pushed you away in fake annoyance at the halfhearted insult. “Oh, I’m Y/N, by the way! I’m a third year at UA, so you’ll probably see me around this year. I’d love to get to know you more! I think your quirk is super cool, I’ve never seen anything like it!” you gushed.
A friend...so that’s what I am.
Shouto didn’t miss the light pink color dusting your cheeks. Just a moment ago, when the two of you had locked gazes...he had felt something electric. Did you feel it too? His heart beat a little faster at your proposition, his imagination running wild with silly little scenarios; sitting with you at lunch, training with you to improve his fighting style, asking you out on a date, buying you flowers. He was no longer thinking about his struggles or what he was going to face tomorrow; those things didn’t matter anymore. For now, when you met his eyes, it felt like it was only the two of you and Midoriya and nothing and no one else. Even if he had just met you, he was already head over heals for your bubbly spirits, the way you loved your sibling, and the laughs and smiles you seemed to give away so easily. He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling he got when he looked at you. You had this air about you; you made the people you were around feel cared for, important, and happy. You were just like your brother in that sense, he supposed.
“Thanks,” he breathed, though he wasn’t sure if you could even hear his response. Regardless, you turned back to Izuku and continued on.
“Hey, Izu, we should get going. I’m sure mom is anxious to have you home.”
“Mhm.” Izuku nodded in agreement and went to collect a his things.
“Well, see you around!” You bid Todoroki goodbye and walked past him confidently, a warm smile on your face as you waved.
“Y-Yeah...” Shouto was at a loss for words as he watched you go.
“I’ll be outside, Izu,” you called over your shoulder, and then you were gone, only rays of sunshine left in your wake.
“Todoroki.”
“Hm?”
“You’re staring...” Midoriya awkwardly told him.
Shouto didn’t seem phased by his words at all, instead choosing to turn to the green haired male beside him now.
“We’re friends...right?” he asked, an unfamiliar nervousness saturating his voice.
“If you want to be, then sure. I’d like that.” Midoriya gave him an inviting smile, finally following you out the door and leaving Todoroki to his thoughts.
Yeah, he had a lot to deal with now, but at least he wasn’t alone anymore. He could do this. He would do this. For you, and Izuku, and for himself. He was going to confront life head on and deal with whatever came his way no matter what.
After all...it was his life. His life, and no one else’s.
I hope this was okay! I realize not much happened between Todoroki and the reader, sorry...this is just where my mind took me. ;w; But since not much happened, I’m considering keeping this on the backburner of my mind for a possible part 2 drabble thing? We shall see.
#todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#shouto#todoroki#x reader#shouto todoroki#todoroki shouto#extra splash of half n half#request#answered#sweater writes#izuku midoriya#Izuku#Midoriya#midoriya izuku#dnarez-mangestsu
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Monthly Fic Roundup!
Hey gang! I’m posting the fics that were recommended on our last surveymonkey poll; thanks for everyone who recommended fics. Please note I did not get to read every fic on here and depended on your responses and the AO3 tags to mark for any triggers or story notes, so please read with caution if you’re worried about any content warnings!
If you want to recommend more fics, I’ll be posting another roundup poll later in the day today!
Under the cut are 32 fics from:
Agents of Shield (1)
Bill & Ted (1)
Castlevania (1)
Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (1)
DCU (2)
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (4)
Game of Thrones (1)
Harry Potter (1)
Leverage (1)
Mission Impossible (1 -- series)
Sanders Sides (1-- series)
Sense8 (1)
Sherlock (1-- series)
Star Wars (1)
Stranger Things (8)
The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (1)
The Untamed/CQL/MDZS (2)
Teen Wolf (2)
White Collar (1)
Agents of Shield:
is it chill that you’re in my head? by lazyfish
Pairing: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Alphonso Mackenzie
TW/TAGS: PTSD, Referenced Torture
Summary: It doesn't take long for Mack to realize he's in love with Bobbi and Hunter and has been for a while. Other realizations take slightly longer.
Bill and Ted (movie):
Our Home, Our Family, Our Love by CaptainWeasley
Pairing: Bill/Ted/Elizabeth/Joanna
TW/TAGS: slurs, implied/referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia, self harm
Summary: A series of firsts in Ted's life, as he slowly comes to terms with his sexuality and learns how to handle being in love with both his wife and his best friend. When Billie and Thea come out as trans, each in her own way, he does everything he can to help them be who they are.
Castlevania:
Deliverance by cricketsong1985
Pairing: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Alucard
TW/Tags: Blood kink, explicit sexual content, gore, trauma, angst
Summary: Adrian is beginning to think that Wallachia will be a smoking pile of ash long before he, Trevor, and Sypha can stop Dracula’s war on humanity. They’ve been chasing the castle for months, but each time they get close, it vanishes. Traveling with such genuine and trustworthy allies has been unexpectedly pleasant; Adrian doesn’t mind that Trevor and Sypha are involved with each other, but he is taken entirely by surprise when they open their relationship to him one evening. Hopelessly in over his head, his heart keeps urging him forward, even when he’s forced to confront the darkest aspects of his nature. Adrian must learn to swallow his pride and let himself be vulnerable if he wants a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for looking within when the world is drenched in blood and magic, and the path to victory may destroy him completely.
Chilling Adventures of Sabrina:
We will be judged by the courage of our hearts by MagicClem
Pairing: Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman/Nicholas Scratch
TW/TAGS: mention of an abusive parent
Summary: It's been a month since the 13 almost destroyed Greendale. Now a full Witch, Sabrina tries to move on, with the help of one Nicholas Scratch.But one night, Harvey arrives at the Spellman's house and everything becomes complicated.
DCU:
not for the faint of heart by pasdecoeur
Pairing: Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
TW/TAGS: Explicit Sexual Content
Summary: Clark opens a door that was meant to stay closed. Things spiral. or, What Not To Do When You’ve Fallen in Love with Batman: A Guide by Hal Jordan & Clark Kent.
All Good Things Come in Threes (Legends of Tomorrow) by IncendiaGlacies
Pairing: Gideon/Rip Hunter/Miranda Coburn
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Summary: “Two is a couple, three is a crowd,” Gideon stated. In which Gideon navigates her polyamorous relationship with Rip and Miranda. Domestic slice of life goodness.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off:
Pairing for all of these are Pairing: Cameron/Ferris/Sloane and are written by @fbdo1986
it’s enough to be whiplash
TW: death mention (no character death), drowning
A/N: To put it plainly, I took a few tricks from John Hughes’s earlier scripts of the film, which were more surreal and up-front with discussing death and end of the world scenarios. It was inspired by a concept that I couldn’t seem to shake after I thought of it: what if the pool scene was just a bit more high stakes?
all the things I never told you
Summary: It’s Sloane, Ferris, and Cameron’s first afternoon alone at the Bueller residence in months. The busy twenty-four year olds who’ve struggled to find time together as their lives unfold in front of them try to think of what to do for the day when Cameron decides to let them in on what he’s been keeping from them.
bye bye love
TW: Death mention (none of the main characters)
Summary: A hopefully angsty number that details Sloane’s, Cameron’s, and Ferris’s journey through heartbreak and loss after their Sophomore year in college. The title is named after a song by The Cars by the same name!
firestarter
Prompt #5: Where it doesn’t hurt with the OT3
Game of Thrones:
Constellatory by blueandbulae
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell/Robb Stark (polycule, NO incest)
TW: Some canon typical violence
Summary: It’s strange and messy and maybe nobody else will ever understand them but it works. It’s theirs, and theirs alone, and nobody can take that from them.Or: Robb and Theon storm King's Landing, rescue the princesses, and save the kingdom. Then comes the hard part.
Harry Potter:
Unconventional by silver_fish
Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Summary: A few years, now, have passed since Hedwig’s death, and Hermione thinks it’s time Harry got a new pet. What sort of pet, though, neither she nor Ron know. Not until Harry himself offers her the perfect solution, that is.
Leverage:
for better or worse (we change together) by idkimoutofideas
Pairing: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
TW/TAGS: Canon typical violence
Summary: The moment Parker saw the stranger standing by the elevator, a dozen alarm bells went off in her head. She froze, and Hardison nearly walked into her as he entered behind her. It took her a moment to realize that while half of the alarm bells were telling her to get the fuck out of there, the other half were telling her to look closer. Or, Eliot Spencer is a recent war veteran who just moved to Portland in an attempt to lead a calmer lifestyle. He ends up with some weird neighbors, but it's Portland, everyone's a little weird.
Mission Impossible:
Polyamorous Spies (series of 2 fics) by MagicClem
Pairing: Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt/Ilsa Faust
TW/TAGS: Blood & injuries (2nd fic)
Sander’s Sides:
Love and Other Fairytales by SoDoRoses (Fairychess)
Pairing: LAMP/CALM (Logan, Roman, Virgil, Patton)
TW: violence, major character death, no NSFW in the main fic but there is a side series with NSFW, animal death, description of rot, nonconsentual control of another person, 'like death' state of being
Sense8:
Crazy Life by MagicClem
Pairing: Kala Dandekar/Wolfgang Bogdanow/Rajan Rasal
Summary: Rajan would admit that this past few years had been crazy and life seems determined to make it crazier and crazier.Or: This is "Amor Vincit Omnia" from Rajan's perspective.
Sherlock:
Lorem Ipsum by Saathi1013 (series)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson/Sarah Sawyer
TW: Abduction
Star Wars:
so just pull the trigger by Darnaguen
Pairing: Han Solo/Qi'ra/Lando Calrissian
TW/TAGS: Alcohol use
Summary: “Oh, don’t pout Haan.” Lando lounges back, licking his newly berry-tinted lips with a lazy grin. “You know all you have to do is ask.”(Qi’ra’s eyes are glinting and her smile is dagger-sharp. Han knows the look: it’s one she wears whenever she has a winning hand.The dice on the table are mediocre at best. He shakes his head and drinks deep.)
Stranger Things:
All pairings are Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler
The Hawkins Three by nonymos
TW: Some canon typical homophobia and slurs
Summary: It's two weeks after the Snow Ball, Nancy's officially with Jonathan, and Steve is trying to move forward. If only he wasn't on a path that keeps circling back to the both of them.
lovers in a dangerous time by diogxnes
TW/TAGS: Briefly: panic attacks/PTSD, parental neglect
Summary: “So,” says Robin, sitting back in her chair, “what’s the deal there, anyway? With the whole you-Nancy-Jonathan thing.”The question makes his mouth run dry. Why would she ask that? Can she tell, possibly, how much he’s been thinking about Nancy these past few days? How starstruck he was when Nancy showed up at his house? Does she know about the mysterious warmth in his stomach when he thinks about Jonathan? “What do you mean, the whole me-Nancy-Jonathan thing?” “Come on, Steve. She’s your ex and he famously beat you up two years ago and now they’re dating each other and all three of you somehow ended up a part of this weird little monster-fighting club together. There’s gotta be a story there.”“I don’t know, Robs,” says Steve, rolling his eyes, relieved beyond measure that that’s all she meant. “You pretty much just covered all of it. There’s not much more to tell.”
Have Happened by cortexikid
TW/TAGS: Homophobia
Summary: "I overheard you. You were talking in your sleep.”Steve's heart fluttered nervously.“It was a little funny at first,” Nancy admitted, her tone a mix of teasing and apologetic, “you were moaning my name and I thought it’d be kinda funny if Mike accidentally overheard you having a sex dream about his sister—”Steve couldn’t control the guffaw that escaped him. “But then you said Jonathan’s name. Right after mine. All in the same breath.”
it’s a risk, it’s a gamble by nondz (pinkjook)
TW/TAGS: NSFW
Summary: “I think we should pretend to date,” Robin says. "What?" Steve answers.
still turning out by scoutshonor
TW/TAGS: Homophobic language
Summary: Steve knows senior year's supposed to be tough, but seriously?Not only does his dad want him to take over his business, but he lands himself into a fight with his best friend leaving him friendless and booted out of his inner-circle, gets stuck watching a bunch of kids after school because of a missing credit, has to repeat eleventh grade history, and, oh yeah. He has the minor issue of having no idea what he actually wants to do with his life.But it's not all that bad: not the kids he has to watch, and certainly not Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, two friends from his history class. Friends. Just friends. Yeah, he and you both know that's bullshit.Steve's got a lot of figuring out to do.(or: HSAU Stoncy with Steve as a senior, doing his best)
(Following Stoncy fics are by @pterawaters)
Now and For Always
TW/TAGS: Explicit, Sex where one party is drunk and the other isn't
Summary: Between graduating from college, starting new careers, and planning a wedding, the summer of 1990 is a busy time for Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan. When a war starts in the middle east, Jonathan gets called away just three weeks before the wedding. He’s determined to make it back in time, no matter what it takes.
It's not like people live like this
TW/TAGS: Car Accidents, Period-Typical Homophobia, NSFW
Summary: Concerned that Steve's less-than-stellar grades might have been making them look bad, his parents hired him a tutor, Jonathan Byers, they were sure he wouldn't find as distracting as his last one. Sure, Jonathan had good grades in school, but he really wished he didn't have to take the extra work to help his mother put food on the table. After all, everyone knew Steve Harrington was a jerk. Right? It turned out, not so much. After an impromptu study-session-turned-party and a game of spin the bottle, Steve and Jonathan both found themselves dating Nancy Wheeler. And that wasn't even the strangest thing that happened to any of them that week.
Mr. Sandman (series)
TW/TAGS: Canon-typical violence, Explicit scenes
The Man from U.N.C.L.E.:
Simmer On Low by canardroublard
Pairing: Illya/Napoleon/Gaby
TW/TAGS: semi-implied consensual voyeurism, whump
Summary: Scenes from five kitchens.
The Untamed/CQL/MDZS:
inclusions by keiyashi
Pairing: Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi
TW/TAGS: NSFW
Summary: “I guess I feel left out. And I’m asking you to show me how not to?”“Show you?” Xue Yang laughs, easing the tension the only way he knows how. “Daozhang, if you aren’t careful, I might think you’re implying something quite forward.”Xingchen blinks at him. “Xue Yang, I feel like you’re trying to embarrass me, but that is what I was implying.”
melting the glacier by keiyashi
Pairing: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén/Mèng Yáo | Jīn Guāngyáo/Niè Míngjué
Summary: Wanting to be with Nie Mingjue is something Lan Xichen accepted about himself long ago. He wants only happiness for his friend, no matter what form it takes. Even if that form is quite lovely and possesses an enchanting mouth.
Teen Wolf:
Feels Better Biting Down by callunavulgari, hiza-chan (callunavulgari)
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale/Lydia Martin
TW/TAGS: Blood
That I See You by FiccinDylan
Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Jordan Parris
TW/TAGS: NSFW, abo, m-preg (non graphic), werewolves, triads are normal
Summary: Deputy Jordan Parrish and Chef Derek Hale are in the prime of their lives and ready to take the next step in their relationship by courting an omega. Everything seems to be progressing smoothly until the new omega (aka Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff’s son) surfaces some unresolved tension from Jordan’s past. Jordan originally had the benefit of amnesia to block out his harried background, but now with his amnesia behind him, will he be able to resolve his past before he ruins his future?
White Collar:
Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl by lightgetsin
Pairing: Neal Caffrey/Peter Burke/Elizabeth Burke
Tags: AU
Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.
#fic roundup#pif fic roundup#fanfiction#agents of shield#bill and ted#castlevania#Chilling Adventures of Sabrina#dcu#Ferris Bueller's Day Off#game of thrones#harry potter#leverage#mission impossible#sanders sides#sense8#sherlock#star wars#stranger things#the man from uncle#the untamed#teen wolf#white collar
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Sound of darkness
@this-solaris-life commissioned me for some Nielan, with a blind Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen who plays the flute at all hours of the day, much to Nie Mingjue's delight, and I hope it turned out like you wanted it to! <3
Nie Mingjue might not be able to see Nie Huaisang anymore, but he knows his little brother well enough to know that he’s panicking hard right now.
“I stocked your fridge, so there’s enough food for a few days, and you know the oven, right? I mean I’m just a phone call away so don’t hesitate to ask for help, especially with cooking, and if you need anything—,”
“Then I know where to find you,” Nie Mingjue completes his sentence with a heavy sigh. “I will be just fine, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue tells him.
He can imagine how Nie Huaisang is wringing his hands in front of his body, since Nie Mingjue didn’t hear the distinct snap of a fan, and he winks him over.
“Come here,” he says and waits until Nie Huaisang steps into his space before he pulls him into a hug.
“I will be fine,” Nie Mingjue says and he feels how Nie Huaisang shakes his head.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be living alone, it’s not right, who’s going to help you?”
“I also shouldn’t be living with my baby brother,” Nie Mingjue shoots back and squeezes Nie Huaisang a bit harder. “We talked about this. I’m going to be just fine, I memorized the apartment and we practiced cooking. And if I am not fine, then I’ll call you.”
“Promise me,” Nie Huaisang says into his shirt and Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to his head.
“I promise,” he immediately says, because for all that Nie Mingjue hates accepting help, he knows it would be stupid not to ask for some now that he’s blind.
Nie Huaisang lets out a long sigh at that, but eventually he pulls away.
“Alright,” he agrees and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I will leave you to it then,” he whispers and Nie Mingjue can’t hide the smile.
“You’re more worried than I am,” he teases. “One could think you’re the one who lost his sight.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to worry so one of us has to,” Nie Huaisang snaps back.
“You’re worried enough for the both of us. Now go home, let me spend the first day in my own apartment in peace,” Nie Mingjue says, and reaches out, unsteadily stepping forward until he finds Nie Huaisang.
He probably stepped closer, but neither of them is going to mention it.
“Go, go, go,” Nie Mingjue says and starts pushing him into the direction of the door.
Or at least to where he hopes the door is.
“That’s the bathroom,” Nie Huaisang says, and Nie Mingjue shakes his head.
“Nope, it’s not, I’m not falling for that, I have the apartment memorized.”
“But you’re all turned around,” Nie Huaisang lowly says and turns Nie Mingjue into the right direction.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue gives back, but he brushes it off after a moment. “That’s because you’ve been talking me into circles for hours now. I swear to the gods, Huaisang, I will be fine.”
There’s a beat of silence before Nie Huaisang whispers “Okay, da-ge.”
He leaves pretty quickly after that, and once the door closes behind him, Nie Mingjue is all alone in his very own apartment.
All alone in the silence and the darkness.
Nie Mingjue told Nie Huaisang that he would be fine—and he will be—but it will probably take him some time to get used to this.
His blindness is a pretty recent development after all.
Nie Mingjue steps forward until he feels the front door under his hands and then he stands with his back to it. He did memorize the apartment—they have toured it often enough after all—and he can find his way around if he knows where he starts.
Nie Mingjue makes his way to the kitchen, slowly shuffling along, not entirely sure of the position of the furniture yet, but he finds the fridge and he also finds something to drink.
Nie Huaisang would be so proud of him.
Nie Mingjue takes his drink back to the living-room, where he sinks down on the couch, and then he just sits there.
His apartment is quiet; there’s no Nie Huaisang around anymore, who flutters around him like a nervous bird, and it all feels like too much all of a sudden.
Nie Mingjue can feel his heartbeat increase and while he was never prone to panic attacks before he lost his sight, he had a few since it happened. Usually Nie Huaisang is around to talk him out of it, but Nie Mingjue is alone now and the thought almost makes him panic more.
There is no sound in his apartment and Nie Mingjue fumbles for his phone, desperate to play any kind of music to keep him distracted when suddenly the sound of a flute reaches him.
Nie Mingjue blinks into the darkness, totally taken aback by the sound, and by the time he finds his bearing again, the person is almost through the first song.
Nie Mingjue doesn’t know much about classic music, and even less about the flute, but the sound is beautiful, almost ethereal and he could listen to it all day long.
He doesn’t quite get his wish, because the flutist stops after roughly half an hour of playing, but Nie Mingjue feels more centred anyway.
Centred enough to find his way back to the kitchen and make a simple dinner for himself, more flute songs playing from YouTube.
They are not quite as beautiful as what Nie Mingjue just heard, but they are enough to keep him calm.
~*~*~
The flutist—and it must be a neighbour—practices at all hours of the day, sometimes several times a day.
Nie Mingjue is far from complaining about that, because whenever his mystery neighbour starts, he sits down and simply listens and Nie Mingjue could swear he has never been this calm in his entire life.
Nie Huaisang would be so proud of him.
It’s his third week in the new apartment and so far Nie Mingjue called Nie Huaisang for help only once, preferring to call him to simply talk, and he hasn’t burned anything down yet.
It’s the small things, Nie Mingjue reminds himself.
His neighbour hasn’t played today yet, and Nie Mingjue finds himself worrying about the flutist. He doesn’t seem to have a set schedule, but it’s already late in the afternoon and usually by now his neighbour would have played at least once already, but there’s only silence.
Until someone knocks at his door.
“Coming,” Nie Mingjue calls out and carefully makes his way over to the door, quite proud with himself when he makes it without running into any stray furniture.
“Who is it?” he asks as soon as he opens the door, because Nie Huaisang would have let himself in, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t really have any friends that would drop by unannounced.
“Oh,” a very beautiful voice says and Nie Mingjue frowns.
“Yes?” he asks when nothing more is being said and he can hear some nervous fidgeting from the other person.
“Oh, sorry, hi,” the guy says and Nie Mingjue expectantly raises an eyebrow. “I’m your neighbour, the one bothering you with all the flute playing,” the guy goes on and that brings a smile to Nie Mingjue’s face.
“Not bothering,” he immediately says, because the music is anything but bothering to him, and he holds out a hand. “Nie Mingjue, and I’m a great fan of your music.”
“That’s a relief,” the guy says and a surprisingly strong hand grasps his. “Lan Xichen.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nie Mingjue says.
“Likewise,” Lan Xichen gives back and then chuckles nervously. “I know it’s super later, after three weeks, but welcome to the house, I guess.”
“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue honestly says and smiles a little bit. “Are you a flutist?”
“Yes,” Lan Xichen tells him. “I really am sorry for playing at all hours of the day. If it’s disturbing your work or anything, I can stick to certain hours?”
“No, please don’t,” Nie Mingjue quickly says and huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “I am actually really enjoying your playing. It’s very comforting and relaxing and it’s not like I have much else to do but to listen to it,” he says with a shrug and points at his eyes. “It’s a recent development, so I haven’t quite found my footing in life again yet,” he explains.
“Oh, I see,” Lan Xichen says and then there’s a sound like he smacked his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he tacks on, but Nie Mingjue laughs.
“No need to be,” he tells him.
“I didn’t mean to overstep, this must be hard for you,” Lan Xichen says, and Nie Mingjue can hear how embarrassed he is.
“It is, but the stroke I had should have killed me instead of just blinding me, so I’m counting myself lucky,” Nie Mingjue explains and he tries to keep his voice even.
It is hard, suddenly being blind, and there are certain hours of the day where he doesn’t cope all that well with it, but Lan Xichen seems to have a knack for knowing when those moments hit, because his flute playing has centred Nie Mingjue more than once already.
Not that he’s about to explain that.
“Anyway, please don’t stop playing on my account, I do rather enjoy it,” Nie Mingjue says when the atmosphere becomes rather awkward.
“I will keep that in mind then,” Lan Xichen promises. “If you ever need help with anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he then offers and Nie Mingjue gives him a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” he sincerely says, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to take Lan Xichen up on his offer, if only so he doesn’t have to rely on Nie Huaisang too much.
“No worries,” Lan Xichen lightly says and briefly squeezes Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll head back then. If you ever do have a request, I might be open to playing it, just saying,” Lan Xichen tells him and it sounds like he’s already walking back to his door.
“I don’t know enough to request anything, but please just keep playing what you know,” Nie Mingjue calls after him and the last thing he hears before Lan Xichen vanishes into his own apartment is the most beautiful laugh Nie Mingjue has ever heard.
Well, damn.
~*~*~
After their little talk, Lan Xichen plays even more frequently than he had before. He doesn’t just practice two or three times a day, but sometimes a handful of times, and Nie Mingjue is kind of worried that he’s doing it just for him.
He has to show how grateful he is somehow, Nie Mingjue decides and decidedly makes his way out of the apartment. He keeps a hand to the wall until he reaches what must be Lan Xichen’s front door, where he knocks a few times.
The flute music abruptly stops and Nie Mingjue curses himself. He really should have waited until Lan Xichen is done with his practice.
“Yes?” Lan Xichen asks when he opens the door. “Am I disturbing you?” he then asks and he sounds apologetic.
“No, not at all,” Nie Mingjue rushes to reassure him. “I just realized you’re playing more often than before and I can’t help but to think that you’re doing it for me,” he admits, even though he can feel himself blush.
“Yeah, well,” Lan Xichen mutters and he sounds just as embarrassed as Nie Mingjue feels. “I might,” he then admits. “You said you found it relaxing, so I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
“And I’m here to thank you for it,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “With dinner, if you want?”
“You cooked?” Lan Xichen asks and he sounds so worried he reminds him of Nie Huaisang.
“I was thinking take-out, actually,” Nie Mingjue admits and he can hear Lan Xichen sigh.
“Really, that’s not necessary,” Lan Xichen gives back.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, disappointment crashing into him. “Sorry for bothering you then.”
“No, I didn’t mean,” Lan Xichen rushes out and grabs Nie Mingjue’s arm before he can turn completely away. “I just meant that’s really not necessary but dinner sounds nice,” he then rushes out and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.
“Okay, then,” he says. “Are you free now?” he asks tilting his head in question and Lan Xichen laughs.
“If you let me put my flute away, then yes. Or did you want me to bring it, so I can play for you?”
Nie Mingjue wants to say yes to that, he would love to hear Lan Xichen play without the walls dividing them, but this is about saying thank you and not having Lan Xichen give him his own personal concert, so Nie Mingjue shakes his head.
“Go put it away,” he instructs Lan Xichen, who chuckles, but retreats at Nie Mingjue’s words.
He’s back quickly enough, though and Nie Mingjue can feel that he wants to ask something. He shuffles his feet almost as much as Nie Huaisang does when he’s nervous.
“What?” he gently asks and Lan Xichen lets out a startled breath.
“Do you want my arm, so I can guide you? I mean, I know you got here by yourself and I’m not actually sure if I’m overstepping, but I could, if you want to?”
“Yes, thank you,” Nie Mingjue says once Lan Xichen is done rambling and he holds out his hand expectantly.
He found his way to Lan Xichen’s door by sticking close to the wall and he’s sure it didn’t make for a very dignified picture. He would like to not let Lan Xichen see that.
Lan Xichen quickly offers him his own arm, and when Nie Mingjue puts a hand on it, he realizes that Lan Xichen must work out quite a lot. That or playing the flute gives you more muscles than Nie Mingjue ever thought.
“What were you thinking for take-out?” Lan Xichen asks him as he leads him back to Nie Mingjue’s own apartment and Nie Mingjue shrugs.
“What are you in the mood for?” he shoots back and they bicker over the different options for almost half an hour before they settle on pizza from the place around the corner.
It’s one of the best evenings Nie Mingjue has had in a while.
~*~*~
Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure how it happens, but Lan Xichen doesn’t really leave after that evening.
He comes over at least once a day, usually for a few hours, bringing his flute despite Nie Mingjue’s insistence that he doesn’t need constant supervision, and Lan Xichen brushes him off every time.
Nie Mingjue can’t say that he minds that too much, because Lan Xichen isn’t overbearing at all. He let’s Nie Mingjue do his own stuff, always letting him know that he’s there should he need help but usually waiting until Nie Mingjue actually asks for it, and Nie Mingjue is very grateful for that.
Lan Xichen isn’t bad company either—he has a very particular sense of humor that Nie Mingjue finds entirely too charming—and sometimes Nie Mingjue feels like he has known Lan Xichen his entire life.
Now that Lan Xichen is playing more and more from his apartment, Nie Mingjue actually gets to know what the songs are called and so he finally is able to make a few requests. He loves all of Lan Xichen’s songs though, and he is not as surprised as he probably should be when he finds out that his favourite song is a song Lan Xichen composed himself.
It’s the one that stopped the panic attack all those weeks back and Lan Xichen plays it often, once Nie Mingjue tells him about that.
“You don’t always have to play that song, you know,” Nie Mingjue says from where he’s sitting on the couch, listening to Lan Xichen play. “I didn’t have a panic attack in a while.”
“I know,” Lan Xichen gives back but there’s a smile in his voice, Nie Mingjue can tell. “But you like this song.”
“How would you know?” Nie Mingjue shoots back, even though Lan Xichen is right and it fills him with warmth that Lan Xichen seems to know him so well.
“Well, apart from the fact that you told me,” Lan Xichen teases, “you always relax when I play it. You’d probably melt into the couch if you could.”
“If you play it more often, I just might,” Nie Mingjue gives back and smiles, very satisfied with himself when Lan Xichen laughs.
“That is still my most favourite sound, though,” Nie Mingjue blurts out and then promptly slaps a hand over his mouth.
He didn’t mean to say that at all.
“Fuck,” he mutters, when Lan Xichen’s laugh stops immediately, and repeats it with more vigour when Lan Xichen stays silent after all.
“Fuck, forget I said that,” he pleads and his stomach falls when Lan Xichen continues to stay silent.
Nie Mingjue inwardly curses himself; having Lan Xichen in his life is the best thing that happened since he lost his sight, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to imagine how it would be without Lan Xichen.
“I don’t think I will,” Lan Xichen finally says, and Nie Mingjue’s stomach drops even as he sits up.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, but Lan Xichen doesn’t let him finish.
“I’m not,” he gives back and Nie Mingjue can hear him put his flute down.
He’s not going to leave immediately, that’s good then. Maybe Nie Mingjue can salvage this somehow.
“I’m not at all sorry,” Lan Xichen says, and his voice is a lot closer than it was a moment ago, so he probably isn’t leaving right away.
Nie Mingjue breathes a little bit more easy with that knowledge.
Only to have that breath stolen away completely when Lan Xichen suddenly steps close. He pushes Nie Mingjue back into the cushions before he settles himself on Nie Mingjue’s lap.
Nie Mingjue’s hands automatically move to his hips and he can feel his heart hammering away in his chest.
“Is this okay?” Lan Xichen breathes and Nie Mingjue involuntarily clenches his hands.
“Yes,” he gives back, resting his head on the couch and cursing how rough his voice sound all of a sudden. “Yes, it is,” he reiterates and he can feel how Lan Xichen shifts his weight at hearing that.
The kiss that follows is not quite as surprising but it still leaves Nie Mingjue breathless.
“And that?” Lan Xichen whispers against his lips and Nie Mingjue strains up to close that little bit of distance Lan Xichen created.
“Very okay,” Nie Mingjue mutters as he sinks back again and hearing Lan Xichen laugh up close is even more beautiful.
“Good,” Lan Xichen gives back right before he dives in again and Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees.
This is more than good. And it gets even better when Lan Xichen never really leaves afterwards.
{Buy me a kofi}
#bt writes#the untamed#mdzs#nielan#getting together#flutists!lxc#blind!nmj#first kiss#panic attack#fluff
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Love Is The Biggest Spell : Chapter Two
A/N: Chapter two is here. They meet, they part. Fate has put forth a test will they pass through it? Hope you like this chapter . Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.
Pairing : Warlock Tom Holland x half mortal reader
Summary : Witches are forbidden to fall in love with mortals. But what if your long lost love returns to you as a mortal, can you defy your heart? Any spell any magic seems useless in front of the magic of love. Let’s join our lovers in their magical conquest beyond life and death as they fight for their love unravelling dark mysteries of the past along their way.
Warnings : none.
Mini Playlist : Find you by Nick Jonas.
You turned to find a young handsome brunette most probably of your age you assumed, his soft hazel brown eyes could gaze deep into your soul. He was a man of expensive taste as you noticed his Louboutin shoes and Prada ensemble he was wearing. You found it quite extravagant for a walk in the forest but who are you to judge plus he was kinda cute too if you aren’t to lie. You gave a puzzled look when you heard him address you as Amber.
For Tom time stood still, his eyes transfixed on you. Is this a dream or is it really you? Amber, his Amber after so many years when everybody told him to move on, he still kept his hopes alive that one day you will return as you had promised to him 25 years ago at this exact spot. And here you are again standing in front of him looking at him with those ever curious eyes and that adorable face. He was broken out of the daze as soon as you started speaking.
“Uh I think you are mistaken I’m not Amber"
"Huh!.. He blinked his eyes a few times. "sorry you just look quite similar to someone I know.. I mean knew.” he stuttered.
“It’s ok, happens sometimes. Umm can you help me to find a way out from here? I’m kinda lost actually.”
“Sure love why not. It’s this way.“ Tom showed you the way. You lifted your leg to walk as a sharp pain in your right leg made you wince.
"Oww!” you cried out. Tom looked back and hastily came back to your aid.
“Is everything okay?” he says with concern.
“Yeah it’s actually I think I twisted my leg.” you scrunch your face.
“What!? let me see.” without a second thought he crouched down and lifted your leg in his hands. You were a little taken aback as you leaned on him holding his shoulder for support.
“uh it’s.. It’s okay you don’t have to, I can walk slowly.” But he did not listen as he took off your shoe and examined your ankle.
“Trust me I can make it right. Just close your eyes” you closed your eyes and he recited a healing spell in his mind gently rubbing his hand over your ankle. He understood from the very beginning that you don’t remember anything so not to raise any suspicion in your mind he gripped your ankle firmly and gave it a little twist.
“Does it hurt now?” he asked. You rotated your ankle and you were shocked that the pain had magically gone away.
“Wow how did you do that?!"
"Told you. I learnt that when I used play football in highschool"
"Great!"
"So now we are ready to go I guess?"
"Yes,all thanks to you.” both of you strolled side by side along the uneven path of the forest.
“So if you don’t mind may I have the pleasure to know the beautiful lady’s name?”
“Yes for sure.” You giggled
“It’s Y/N.. Y/N Warren. By the way what is my saviour’s name?"
"Thomas.. Thomas Stanley Holland you can call me Tom."
"Thanks Tom for helping me out."
"Oh it’s my pleasure."
You continued walking, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Every time you looked at him your heart clenched, a weird feeling creeping inside you as if you have known him for ages but everything now seems to be a blur. On the other hand Tom was feeling restless. A thousands of questions bubbling inside him waiting to erupt. For him you seemed to be unreachable, far away in spite of being so close. He could see the path coming to an end leading you out of the forest which meant you will be gone and he did not want that to happen. He wanted to stop this moment forever, he just wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss you, never letting you go again.
Atlast you were out of the deep forest. Your friends caught sight of you and came rushing towards you
"Oh! Y/N! there you are.” Jane heaved a sigh of relief.
“I was so worried baby. Where were you?” Cole hugged you planting a kiss on your forehead.
“I got lost then this gentleman helped me find the way.” you turned to find no one.
“Strange, he was right behind me.” You frowned.
“Leave you are safe, that’s all it matters."
"Can we go now? We are already late. ” Tony quipped.
“Yeah.” You absentmindedly followed them constantly looking back eyes searching for your mystery saviour.
Tom saw you go from behind the trees. He went back to the Academy of Mystic Arts.
He walked past the halls as Jacob saw him walking briskly with a frown on his face . He minced his way towards him and stopped him midway
“Tom I know you’re angry but can you leave Remy for today?”
“I don’t have time for all your nonsense so just go away." Tom said irritatedly. "And yes tell him if he ever thinks of harming her again he will see the worse of me.” Saying so he raced to the library.
“What brings you to the library Thomas? You’re the best warlock of this academy where did you find difficulty in spellcasting?” Charles the librarian asked.
“I need everything you have on ancient magic of rebirth, soul transfer, spirit channeling and bring them fast” He demanded. Charles handed him all the books he asked for.
He took the books and rushed back home. After reaching home he ran to his room and placed the books on his bed with a loud thud. He frantically searched the books, he desperately needed to know how were you able to take birth as a human. He completely lost track of time as he paced along his room turning the pages of the book. And suddenly Tom’s eyes went to a dusty guitar kept at a corner of his room as memories flashed back.
“I really love it when you play the guitar. You said with admiration in your eyes.”
“These hands will only strum on these strings just for you and no one else. He said.” And as he had said he literally stopped playing guitar after he lost you.
But something today urged him to hold on to it again. He picked up the guitar as he dusted away the dirt that had collected on it all these years and sat on the window sill of his room. He strummed on the guitar playing the chords looking at the night sky. Amid the starlight was the ever glow of the moon, that mother of the sky whom watched over every beating heart, steady and true. He sang.
I look for you in the center of the sun
I took a pill but it didn’t help me numb
I see your face even when my eyes are shut
But I never really know just where to find you
Your smiling face flashed in front of him. He felt content as you felt like a beam of sunshine radiating love and happiness which filled the void in him.
I taste the words that keep falling out your mouth
You got a logic I’ll never figure out
If I could hold you then I’d never put you down
But I never really know just where to find you
Where to find you
Where to find you
But I never really know just where to find you
Every time you spoke it felt like music to his ears. He didn't knew how much starved he was to hear your voice until now.
Try, try, try, but I
Try, try, try, but I, but I
Try, try, try, but I
But I never really know just where to find you
You think you know how to get under my skin
It’s good for now but it’s never permanent
Knock on the door but there’s no one listening
And I never really know just where to find you
He reminisced about the time back then when you knew him.
“Amber! Amber!” Tom called out he could hear your distant giggles echoing in the forest.
“C'mon love this ain’t funny!” You tiptoed behind him and covered his eyes with your hand from the back.
“Guess who?” You whispered. A smile spread across his face.
“My little witch.” He held your hand turning around.
“I love to see you get all riled up.” you giggled.
“Ha ha very funny.”
“What will you do if I really vanish one day?” You wiggled your brows playfully, Tom immediately placed his hand over your mouth.
“No, don’t say that ever again and even if that happens I’ll find you with everything I have.”
“Where will I find my solace anyways other than these arms? You slipped your hands to his back embracing him and pecked his lips.
But you had left him. Though it wasn’t your fault. You were taken away from him by those treacherous mortals.
You live for love but you never really tried
You say it’s not but it’s always on your mind
Keep chasing gold but you lose a silver line
But I never really know just where to find you
Where to find you
Where to find you
But I never really know just where to find you
You were never a person who used to express her feelings openly, maybe that had to do with you being a fire witch. But with Tom you were a different person he had this calming effect on you that made you feel safe and happy.
You were sitting under a tree reading a book, Tom was lying down his head resting on your lap.
“They told me not to play with fire, and I should’ve listened because I got burned by your soul and you left me in the ashes.”
“What sort of cheesy pickup line is this?” you snorted.
“I’m trying to be romantic here, love.”
“As if you aren’t already?” Keeping your book aside you knelt down to his face and kissed him.
Try, try, try, but I
Try, try, try, but I, but I
Try, try, try, but I
But I never really know just where to find you
Maybe I’m chasing a feeling
Maybe I don’t even need it, but
Maybe you’re looking for me tonight, tonight
Though are these feelings legit anymore? When he knows that he doesn’t exist in your memories. His heart pangs to know that there is another man in your life.
What kind of twisted game fate has put you both into. He wanted you back but not like this where you don’t remember him. Where he is not anymore part of your life.
I look for you in the center of the sun
I took a pill but it didn’t help me numb
I see your face even when my eyes are shut
Meanwhile you were back at home as you looked out of your window in your room. The sun had set and the full moon was shining in the clear night sky, radiating its soft light over the earth. Since childhood you had a strange attraction towards the moon. You gazed at the moon intently.
But I never really know just where to find you
Where to find you
Where to find you
But I never really know just where to find you
Try, try, try, but I
Try, try, try, but I, but I
Try, try, try, but I
But I never really know just where to find you
Tom stared in the direction of the moon and he saw a glimpse of your face.
“Whenever you feel lost just look at the moon. You’ll get your answers.”
You once told this to Tom but he didn’t understand the meaning behind your words back then. Witches can see future and you must have known what the future holds for you. And now it was clear to him what you had meant. You are the answer to his questions. Only you can solve the mystery of the past, your past.
“You seem to be quite in a good mood. Really good to see you playing the guitar after such a long time. What’s the matter?" Harrison walked into his room.
"It’s Amber, Harrison! I knew she would come back, she can’t break her promise.” Tom exclaimed.
“Wait, wait what are you talking about?"
"I saw Amber today in the woods!"
"Tom are you sure you weren’t hallucinating? We can call the doctor if you want” Harrison gave a puzzled look.
“Harrison trust me."
“So where is she then?And where was she all these years?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I didn’t have the time to ask her anything and she doesn’t seem to remember anything. And also her name is not Amber, it’s Y/N.”
“So how will you find her again?”
“I don’t know but I’ll find her.”
You had zoned out looking out of your window and suddenly you had a blurry vision
“Promise me you’ll come back.” You saw two broad hands holding yours and then the person raised one of his hands to caress your cheek, you lifted your eyes to meet his and you had a glimpse of your mystery savior from the forest as he knelt down to kiss you. You shook your head to bring yourself to reality, blinking your eyes a few time as you exhaled deeply. This was weird, you never had a vision like that before, not when you were awake and why did you see Tom.
……………………………
Next day was a busy day for Tom and Harrison. For the first time in 25 years they had stepped in the mortal side of the town in search of you. They inquired about your whereabouts to some of the people in the town and they got to know about the coffee shop you work in.
“Sometimes I hate the fact that you are my best friend and I can’t even say no to you. What are we doing in this stinky mortal world Tom?! Bloody murderers!” He scoffed opening the door of the cafe to get inside.
“To find Amber!”
“How do you know that we will find her here?
“I just know, I feel her.” You were busy placing the utensils in the dishwasher at the back of the store as you heard the bell chime that hung on the door
“Just a moment coming!” You shouted from the back. You quickly fixed your dress and walked back to the counter wiping your hands with a towel.
“Sorry for keeping you wait… You stopped in the middle of your sentence as you saw your new customers sitting near the counter engrossed in their phones. Tom cocked his head up from his phone. You noticed today he was quite informally dressed in a plain white t-shirt paired with blue jeans.
“Heyyy.. it’s you!” You said excitedly. Your eyes met as Tom’s whole face lit up, he quickly glanced at you in a baby pink uniform with a white apron tied around your waist. The uniform hugging your body perfectly, accentuates your features. You looked cute, he thought. On the other hand Harrison’s jaw dropped in shock.
“Tom right?”
“Yup.”
“I was looking for you but you just vanished, didn’t get to thank you for helping me.”
“Uh sorry I had got some emergency.”
Harrison was still staring at you intently. Your attention shifted to the blue eyed blonde sitting beside Tom and you felt intimidated.
“Umm have we met before?” You asked.
“Uh.. no you just look quite familiar to someone I know.” He stuttered.
“This is the second time I’m hearing this.” you looked at them skeptically and again turned to the blonde
“So you are?”
“Harrison.. Harrison Osterfield.”
“Never seen you guys in this town though, new here?” They looked at each others faces .
“Umm not new but we moved here recently after finishing our studies from London. Our family owns the Runeshire winery.
“Holy shit!! You are the Hollands that is why I was thinking that I heard the name somewhere.
“I always wanted to go to London though.’’
‘’I can take you if you want.’’ Tom offered innocently.
‘’That will be so kind of you Thomas.’’ you bent down on the counter resting your chin in your palm.
“So what would you London boys like to have?’’
“What would the damsel in distress recommend?’’ He shot back.
“That will be just for one time Tommy boy I’m more than a damsel in distress.” you arched a sly brow.
“And I would like to recommend our Fall special ‘Vanilla, earl grey, and lavender latte’ is that ok with you lads?”
“More than okay, darling” he grinned. You pursed you lips with a sly look in your eyes straightening yourself over the counter. You went to get their order. Tom turned to Harrison who was still recovering from the shock of seeing you.
“So what do you think? Or are you hallucinating too?’’ Tom grinned.
“Shut up! I still don’t think that she’s Amber.’’ Tom was about to say something as he stopped seeing you coming.
“Here you go.’’ You served them their orders and slided two plates of cheesecakes.
“This is on the house.’’ You winked. “A little thank you gesture for the other day.’’
Cole dropped in after sometime. You excused yourself and went to him.
“Hey babe.’’ He wrapped his arms around your waist pressing you tightly against his chest.
“Hi darling.’’ You smiled as he knelt down to kiss you pressing your foreheads.
“Jeez guys get a room!’’ Jane came out from the back.
“At Least someone is getting it.’’ Cole quipped
“Whatever..’’ She rolled her eyes.
“Aww don’t get disheartened sweetie we have two new hot lads straightway from London right over there.” you pointed to the direction where Tom and Harrison were sitting.”Wanna take your chance?’’ You smirked quirking your brow.
“By the way I really like the brunette he was the one I was talking about the other day. He’s cute don’t you think?’’ you both started gossiping totally ignoring your boyfriend standing right beside you hearing you crushing upon some random bloke. Cole cleared his throat to make you aware of his presence.
“I’m still here.”
“So what? As if you don’t check out other girls when I’m not with you.’’ You sneered.
"I think I'm gonna give it a shot." Jane chirped looking at their direction.
"You got this girl! Go get some! You patted her back encouragingly.
Tom’s was looking to your direction with a hardened gaze his jaw clenched. He was fuming from inside seeing you with Cole a tinge of jealousy and possessiveness creeping inside him
“I think Amber is quite intelligent enough in her new life and decided to move on.’’ Harrison teased.
“She just doesn’t remember anything.’’ Tom reasoned.
“Tom, how can you be so sure that she is Amber? She just looks like her.’’
“Would you like to order anything else?’’ Jane interrupted them.
“No thank you, love.’’ Harrison said in his British accent and Jane felt butterflies inside her. It was love at first sight or to be precise voice. She gazed at the blue eyed boy with sun kissed hair with heart eyes. Tom noticed that, a smirk forming on his face. He motioned Harrison with his eyes signalling him to carry on the conversation to dig some more information from her.
“How long have you girls been working here?’’
“Oh it’s just me who works here part time, Y/N and her aunt literally owns this shop; it’s her family shop you see.’’ Jane answered by tucking her locks behind her ear.
“So what else do you do?’’
"Still studying. Part time journalism at the city College. We all are classmates ’’
“Great! By the way nice tea.’’
“Thank you.’’ Harrison and Tom got up to leave.
“Maybe we can talk a little more over a cup of tea when you are free some other day. See you again, Jane Miller.’’ He read out her name from her name badge and gave her a subtle wink. Jane was swept off her feet, she felt dizzy her cheeks heating up blushing profusely, heart beating faster than usual.
After getting out of the shop they teleported themselves to Tom’s house.
“That went well.’’ Tom remarked.
“These humans are petty creatures. A little sweet talk makes them swoon over anyone.’’
"I think she really likes you.’’
“What’s there to not like about me anyways?” Harrison sassed.
“But your Amber likes someone else, what are you gonna do about that? Tom as your best mate it’s my advice that you forget her. Even if she is Amber she is a human and you know the rules. This time your love is truly forbidden.’’
“I don’t care about some stupid rules the only thing I care is what Amber wants. Unless she says that she doesn’t want me in her life I’m not giving up on her.’’
“Tom she’s a human now totally powerless even if you are successful to make her remember everything. The coven will not let her be alive. You will be putting her life into danger.”
“She was much more powerful than all of us and I’m not ready to believe that she has lost her powers.’’
“But I don’t see any signs of powers in her.’’
“I have seen back at the forest how the branch that Remy tried to throw on her dodged away from her. It has to be a protection spell.’’
“Or just sheer luck.’’ Harrison taunted.
“By the way she was a fire elemental witch, you touched her ankle right? Did she feel feverish?’’
“No but maybe it is different when you are reborn as human. She was a Hecatean witch who knows.’’
“Tom we know very little about them. And moving forward with just our assumptions will be just useless.’’
“We don’t know but the Hecatean witches will know.’’
“Tom have you gone insane?! Amber was the last one of their clan.’’
“Harrison you are in such a state of denial that you have forgotten that we can perform seance. We can summon Helena the mother of elements, Amber’s great grandmother.’’
“But for that we need something that belonged to her to perform the summoning spell for the seance.’’ Harrison pointed out.
“I have her hairpin Amber used to wear that every time. It was given to her as a family heirloom.’’
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get started. By the way when we are doing a seance why don’t you just ask her if Amber is alive or not? That will clear a lot of things in the first place.’’
Tom and Harrison drew a pentacle in the middle of the room and placed candles around it. They sat down closing their eyes as they concentrated and summoned the spirits.
“Spirits below and above, spirits in between, caught in the fabric betwixt worlds, we ask that the veil be lifted and that you send forth the spirit of Helena. Helena, you’re welcome to this house, to this circle. If you’re here, we ask that you make your presence known.’’
A gust of wind started blowing out of nowhere, shallow whispers filled the room
“What do you want from me?’’ A celestial voice echoed in the room.
“Oh mother of the four elements we wanted to know about your great granddaughter Amber, is she alive?” Tom reckoned.
“No, Amber is no more; she was meant to be the best of us and to fulfill the prophecy and her destiny she had to die to be reborn from her ashes just like the phoenix.’’
“Does that mean she still has her powers? Tom asked.
“She is a half witch, mortal blood runs in her veins but once she turns 25 she will get back all her powers.’’
“But how do we know if she has her powers? Please enlighten us with the knowledge of elementary magic.’’ He requested.
“Elemental Witches are the first witches that have existed on our planet, even long before the first humans. It is said that they were created by nature to control the elements and create a peaceful nature, so that the mankind can live on Earth.”
“Amber was fire elemental, fierce and powerful. A Fire Witch is a rare and dangerous creature, who can cause great healing or great destruction with their magic. A fire witch’s temperament is fickle at best, swinging from a warm disposition to raging inferno at the slightest provocation. Rage runs in her blood that she channels through her magic. I think now you understand what you need to do to reveal her true form but be careful the fire witch is able to hold congress with flames as easily as a pet and is able to cause mass destruction in its manipulation. Being a half witch she isn’t aware of her powers and might lose control over herself so be extremely cautious with whatever you do.” And with that the whooshing sound of the wind stopped blowing out the candles the room went dark and an eerie silence prevailed in the room.
“So we have to make her angry. And how do you plan to do that?’’ Harrison broke the silence.
“First I need to get close to her and know her again. And that can only be possible if we.’’ Tom puckered his eyebrows thinking.
“Please don’t say you are actually thinking of doing that.’’
“Yes you are right, get ready to become a university transfer student, mate.’’ Tom winked.
…………………………………………………………………..
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Spiritual Spotlight: Angazhan, the Ravenous King
Chaotic Evil Demon Lord of Apes, Tyrants, and Jungles
Domains: Animal, Chaos, Evil, Plant Subdomains: Decay, Demon, Fur, Growth
The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 18~19
Obedience: Ingest hallucinogenic jungle plants and then beat a complex rhythm on a large drum made of human skin and bones while chanting prayers to Angazhan. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against diseases and poisons caused by exposure to the jungle or inflicted by creatures native to jungles.
Heurgh, Angazhan has some pretty restrictive requirements here, and his Benefit really only works against a single environment, making Angazhan one of the most environmentally-locked deities since Dagon! It’s fitting, considering Angazhan is basically only worshiped in Darkest Africa the Mwangi Expanse, a massive and terrifying jungle he’s had his six-fingered hands buried deep into ever since humanity began settling the land. Since worship rarely ever leaves a jungle home, any player character wanting to serve the Ravenous King had better make sure they’ll be sticking close to the vine-draped homeland, or they’re just completely out of luck! Not just because they lose out on the benefit above, but because they lose out on a good number of Boons too!
anyway, it’s a difficult alignment to set up for and keep a secret, if you’re trying to hide your worship of the Tyrant King. You COULD pass off the drum as being made of animal tissues, but the loud chanting to a known and famous Demon Lord and the fact you’re likely to be seeing stars and colors due to your Hearty Breakfast is much harder to explain if someone kicks your door in. The fact you need both jungle drugs and a drum means this Obedience is utterly ruined if you get robbed or have your equipment stolen, though at the very least it’s easy enough to replace your belongings... if you’re in a jungle. If you’re not, getting a new drum is simple, but a visit to the black market may be necessary to restock on your Hearty Breakfast.
The benefit is notably weaker than other benefits of a similar theme; a few deities are generous enough to give universal protections from poison and disease, but Angazhan punishes you for going where he cannot tread. Fitting for a tyrant who likes having people under his thumb, but annoying for someone trying to actually extend his reach. In a jungle area, however, it’s MUCH more impressive than it looks in a vacuum; many, many, many, MANY horrors within the deep and mysterious tangles rely on poisons or disease to fell their enemies and their prey, so the added protection will always come in handy!
Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which Boon set you get, and you get cool demon-related powers!
------- EVANGELIST -------
Boon 1: The Jungle Consumes. Gain Pass Without Trace 3/day, Tree Shape 2/day, or Spike Growth 1/day.
‘Consumes’ indeed; Spike Growth can render a frankly offensive amount of terrain completely inhospitable (ten 20ft squares!), shredding 1d4 HP off every creature trying to pass through a single 5ft square and threatening to halve their movement speed for a full day every time they take damage. As anyone who’s played as or fought against a Druid can attest to, Spike Growth is useful for exactly two things (slowing an enemy’s retreat or advance) but it’s amazing at doing so. The sheer amount of terrain the spell covers and the length of time it covers for (an hour per level) makes useful for stopping everything from a charging dragon to a charging army... provided your foe has less than 4 DR. In order to halve someone’s movespeed they need to actually take damage from the growth AND fail a Reflex save, meaning even the meager DR 5 you’re likely to encounter at levels 10+ is enough to make Spike Growth completely irrelevant.
If you can use it against a foe who’s not immune to it, though, it’s absolutely stellar. Moving through even a single 20ft square triggers four separate Reflex saves to avoid having one’s movespeed halved for a full day, and--as written--the halved speed can’t be undone with Fast Healing or Regeneration, the victim MUST find a Cure spell. Perhaps the biggest downside is that using it to its fullest potential--that is, to cripple a charging swarm of foes--is unlikely to happen, delegating it to crowd control versus a small amount of enemies.
It’s leagues better than the niche Tree Shape, but Pass Without Trace also has its merits, hiding up to 10 people from sniffing noses and prying eyes for half a day, letting you and your allies effortlessly vanish into the foliage. Indeed, all three of these spells are extremely useful in the jungle setting Angazhan demands you remain in, so if you ARE actually hiding around in the Mwangi Expanse, all three of these can be genuine picks depending on if you plan to be a trapper, a stalker, or a sentree that day.
Boon 2: Canopy Crawler. Your feet become prehensile and apelike, allowing them to act as a second pair of hands for every purpose except wielding a shield or weapon, such as to execute somatic components, to aid in climbing, to hold objects, and to maintain your Dexterity bonus to AC while climbing. In addition, you gain a climb speed equal to your walking speed +10, and can attempt a Climb check in place of the following checks: Acrobatics checks to swing or leap between branches and vines; Stealth checks to remain hidden within trees, and you can move at full speed through them without penalty; and Stealth checks to snipe from trees, the penalty for doing so reduced by 10.
The way this ability is written in the book is kind of a mess, so I tried my best to shuffle it into a more easily digestible form.
Anyway: Freaky monkey feet! For all your freaky monkey feet needs! One of the more unique Boons in the game, and unlike most highly unique Boons, this one is still highly useful! While your handfeet can’t wield weapons or shields, you can use them for more or less anything else while your actual human hands are occupied. Sleight of Hand? No, my friend, I’m on a completely different level.
The big star here is the free climb speed, which automatically gives you a meaty +8 to Climb checks, making the various skill checks it replaces much, much easier to exploit. You become an expert of gorilla... guerrilla... Gorilla Guerrilla Warfare, soundlessly moving from tree to tree and hurling spears or firing arrows with nary a peep but for the whoosh of the weapon through the branches and leaves, moving from position to position as easily as playing hopscotch. Even if you never invested in Stealth at all, you can suddenly pour ranks into Climb and become an ersatz Rogue for the party, leading a silent charge against the foes of the Ravenous King’s cult.
Side note, this ability combines beautifully with all 3 of the spell-likes from The Jungle Consumes, as your brachiating movements put you above Spike Growth, Pass Without Trace makes you utterly impossible to nonmagically track if you attack at night, and Tree Shape lets you become a horror movie villain that vanishes the instant it appears you’re about to be ‘caught.’
Boon 3: One With The Jungle. While in the jungle, you gain blindsight to a range of 60 feet, you gain a +2 insight bonus to AC and on saving throws, and you are never flat-footed or surprised. You ignore cover and concealment caused by natural features of the jungle, as the very plants and stones twist out of the path of your attacks and spells.
An eternal Diet Foresight if your reward for remaining in the Ravener King’s grip, but this ability--unlike Canopy Crawler--is entirely blank if you adventure outside of your god’s chosen locale, a punishing loss of an otherwise incredibly strong defensive ability. Being impossible to catch by surprise is good enough on its own, especially at levels where enemies can have Sneak Attacks exceeding +4d6, poisons that cause people to hemorrhage ability scores, or fatal grappling embraces, to say nothing of what happens if a spellcaster gets the drop on everyone. The +2 to AC and universal bonus to saving throws will struggle to make a difference, but it’s a rare insight bonus and will thus stack with all your existing bonuses... and, of course, it lasts forever so long as you remain in a jungle.
I enjoy that the jungle will shuffle aside to let you shoot and swat your enemies without penalty, making my ‘treetop sniper’ suggestion in Canopy Crawler even more viable. Now, as long as you can see even the smallest portion of your target, the natural world will bend and sway to avoid your blows so that they always strike true, letting you attack enemies without the possibility of them retaliating unless they begin cutting down the whole jungle... at which point they’ll have much bigger issues than just you.
------- EXALTED -------
Boon 1: Jungle’s Wrath. Entangle 3/day, Bull’s Strength 2/day, or Summon Monster III (1 fiendish ape, 1d3 fiendish advanced baboons, or 1d4+1 fiendish baboons) 1/day.
Bull’s Strength is always nice to have to give the beefy members of your party, giving them an extra +2 to attack and damage rolls for ten or so minutes at a time, among other bonuses. Strength bonuses are some of the most boring but practical things you can hand out, because you never know when you’ll just need to do something as simple as moving a large rock or hit something for 2 more points of damage than normal. Having it at twice a day means it’ll likely carry through the most important battles or puzzles you’ll face.
Entangle, however, tends to be the better option here. See everything I said above about Spike Growth? Paste that here, as well, but trade off the damage for the ability to grapple everything trying to move through the 40ft radius(!) of plantlife you’ve affected. In some ways it’s better than Spike Growth, utterly halting the movement of anyone heading through it if they fail their save rather than halving it, and being difficult terrain even if the victims succeed, which halves their speed anyway.
Seeing summoning abilities on a Boon is usually good, but the painful limitation of only being able to summon various demon apes means it severely lacks its normal Swiss Army application. It’s only really good if you need either a distraction, or something heavy moved, both of which could be accomplished with Entangle and Bull’s Strength without it being tied to a creature with subhuman intelligence. At the very least, apes have humanoid hands and can thus perform tasks very few other summoned creatures could do, such as wielding weapons.
Boon 2: Summon Child of Angazhan. 1/day as a swift action, you can summon an Advanced Fiendish Girallon, 1d3 Advanced Fiendish Dire Apes, or 1d4+1 Advanced Fiendish Apes as if you had cast Summon Monster VI.
In spite of my mockery of the Boon above, the ape restriction here is anything but painful. ... well, it’s painful for anyone who’s not you, mind. An Advanced Fiendish Girallon is a CR 8 monstrosity with enough damage output and resilience from the Fiendish template to punch above its weight class. A Girallon is a four-armed, Large-sized ape beast with five attacks (and Rend!) a round, with enough agility and maneuverability to run down fleeing foes or chase them through just about any terrain easily.
It’s also your best option among the summons; the Dire Apes and normal apes are nice, but the chance of summoning a single Dire Ape or a meager 2 fiend apes means a Girallon is the best go-to unless you need a lot of bodies rather than one large one. The Fiendish template is really what gives this ability the oomph it needs to shrug off most of my criticism of Jungle’s Wrath, granting even your normal apes a bit of Spell Resistance and elemental resistance to Fire and Acid... though, notable, both the normal ape and the Dire Ape have too few HD to gain the advanced benefits of the Fiendish template, and none of the creatures here have high enough Charisma to make the Smite Good ability granted to them useful, even with the +4 to all ability scores from Advanced.
Perhaps the biggest gold star this power has, however, is the fact that it can be used as a swift action. You can instantaneously flank an enemy with a murderous gorilla and then stab them in the back when they rightly turn around to look at said murderous gorilla in disbelief, or you can blast them with another spell, or you can do any number of other things with the distraction you’ve just created. Don’t forget that Summon Monster VI also has a range of Close, letting you hurl a demon gorilla at an enemy from 25+5ft/lvl away. The downside, however, is that SMVI also has a duration of a meager 1 round/lvl, meaning you’ll often run into the issue of saving the use of this ability, often until you no longer need it.
Boon 3: Jungle’s Might. You gain a +2 profane bonus to your Strength score and a +2 bonus on Fortitude saving throws.
Useful but boring. It’s moderately better than most stat-buffing Boons thanks to the additional Fortitude bonus, but final Boons typically give +4 bonuses, not +2. There’s no flash or pizazz here, nothing to really expand upon, so lets move on!
------- SENTINEL -------
Boon 1: Tyrant’s Roar. Gain Command 3/day, Sound Burst 2/day, or Suggestion 1/day.
I almost got mad because I mistook Sound Burst for a different, much worse spell. Nope! That was sonic scream or whatever, one I’m so unimpressed with I didn’t even bother looking it up. Sound Burst is significantly better, anyway, able to stun a small crowd of enemies in a single casting, which is exactly what you--as the Sentinel--want to happen. Either because you’re holding back an enemy(/ies) for your allies to get into place, or because you’re holding them still so you can get in close. The damage it deals is pitiful, but it’s automatic even if they succeed against the stun effect, and you never know when 8 damage to up to a crowd will make a difference!
Like most of Angazhan’s blessings, it gets better if you’re in a jungle, as the hostility of the Mwangi Expanse means invaders are likely to be clustered together as tightly as possible to prevent attacks from all angles. Punish them, hard.
Command is in-character for the Tyrant King, and it rewards creative uses beyond the ‘come,’ ‘stay,’ and ‘drop’ commands, though those serve their purpose well enough. I’m quite partial to KNEEL, which fits Angazhan rather well! The only problem is that its low saving throw scaling means it’s unlikely to affect enemies that matter, and in combat it’s often much better to just rush in and start slapping. Out of combat Suggestion is king, though it’s an odd choice for someone who tends to force people to follow his orders through violence and threats rather than relying on coercive and subtle magic. Personally, I’d let the Face of the party or the dedicated enchanter rely on Suggestion, and carry Sound Burst around for those times you need to explode people’s eardrums.
Boon 2: Reign of Terror. You add your Strength modifier to Intimidate checks (this does not stack with Intimidating Prowess or similar feats and abilities) as well as your Charisma modifier. Once per minute, you may use Intimidate to demoralize a single creature within 30ft as a swift action, or all creatures within 10ft as a move action. When using Intimidate to demoralize a creature in this way, if your result exceeds the DC by 5 or more, the creature is frightened for 1 round and then shaken for the normal duration; if your result exceeds the DC by 10 or more, the creature cowers for 1 round, then is frightened for 1 round, and then is shaken for the normal duration. When you use Intimidate to demoralize an ally, instead of being shaken, that creature gains a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls for the appropriate duration.
While normally Boons are built to be taken advantage of by any class within the margins of those who can enter the Prestige Classes in the first place, sometimes you get one that forces you into a specific path. This one highly, highly rewards having both a high Strength and a high (or at least neutral) Charisma, and focusing a feat or two into making your Intimidate as high as possible can see you sending squadrons of enemy combatants scattering and trampling one another to get away from you. I love, love, LOVE that there’s no per-day use restriction on this power, only that it can be used once per minute, meaning you can bring it out in more or less every fight you encounter.
Exceeding the victim’s Intimidation DC by 10 or more causes them to cower, a status affliction barely above paralysis in how terrible it is to be suffering, opening them up to a whole round of being beat on without any ability to retaliate. Even if they survive the round of helplessness, they’re forced to run from you and use whatever resources they have available to get as far away from you as possible... which can be a blessing or a curse depending on what they were carrying and how badly you wanted it.
Being able to Intimidate a single foe as a swift action or a whole crowd surrounding you as a move action is strong, especially if you can bolster your prowess enough to always score 10 higher than their DC (a challenge, but not an insurmountable one)... And even if your enemies are immune to being intimidated either because they’re mindless, starved, or immune to fear, you can use this ability to give your whole team +2 to attack rolls for 4+ rounds. It’s more of a consolation prize than anything else, but note that the final sentence does not say “in this way,” meaning you can use Intimidate normally without needing the 1/minute bolstering to give your allies a bit more accuracy! Wasteful, but viable!
Boon 3: Unchallenged Tyrant. When you perform your Obedience, designate a number of present and willing creatures equal to your Charisma modifier; these are your Thralls. This designation lasts for 24 hours or until you next perform your Obedience. 3/day, you can infuse all Thralls within 50 feet of you as a swift action, granting them a +4 bonus to their Strength and Constitution scores and a +2 bonus on initiative checks, and granting any teamwork feats you have as bonus feats *for an number of rounds equal to your hit dice. If a Thrall dies within 50 feet of you at any time, you gain the effects of Death Ward (CL = half the Thrall’s Hit Dice, to a maximum of CL 20th).
*this ability originally had no listed duration, making it quite awkward and insanely powerful. I’ve added one that makes sense.
Oh, not bad! Another reward for buffing up your Charisma! Even if it’s just to a +2 bonus! And it’s a fine one, too, letting you enchant your allies with a discounted Barbarian Rage, including a bonus to initiative checks to help them move before your enemies even know what’s happening! THREE TIMES a day!!! And--wait, wait, there’s more? You also transfer ALL your teamwork feats to your Thralls? Teamwork feats are pretty powerful but wholly rely on your allies being willing to give up their own feat slots for them, and they utterly fail to work if you aren’t working together or become separated by enemy shenanigans. This ability (along with the Inquisitor’s Solo Tactics) turns those empty feat slots into something truly game-changing due to applying them to all of your Thralls at once. This means that, even if you don’t or cannot join in the fight, they can still use teamwork with each other, and all you need is one of them to be nearby to make use of feats like Lookout (if one of you can act during the surprise round, all of you can), Precise Strikes (+1d6 damage if you’re flanking an enemy)... or, perhaps the most useful of them, Coordinated Charge, allowing you and your allies to all charge the same target.
It doesn’t take a genius to see why Coordinated Charge is one of the best you can use with this ability, as the +Strength and Con bonus means you can turn even the weakest member of the party into another source of damage however small. It also means all of your melee battlers can get into the fray immediately, and if used in combination with Lookout, it can turn an enemy ambush into a pile of severed limbs and broken armor before they even realize what they’re up against.
I also like that if any of your Thralls die, you get a free Death Ward. If you know you’re going up against a necromancer or an Undead with Energy Drain, making an incredibly weak but tasty-looking creature one of your Thralls and sending them in to die is one less spell slot your Divine caster needs to use on you. I’m amused by the idea of blessing one member of your Sack Of Rats and just crushing it in your hand if you ever need a ward. If you have the Charisma for it, definitely try it out!
You can enter Monkis World here.
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TLTNL- THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Harry desperately hoped that this chapter would be the hearing, so that he could be done with it already. He really was playing off to his family how unconcerned he was, and doing a pretty good job of it considering he always had something else so far to distract him. He just couldn't shake off that it was eating away at him though, there would come a time where he'd be leaving Hogwarts for a long, extended period of time, and it wasn't because he graduated. This wasn't because he was expelled though, right?!
"Harry, you get lost in those pages? We're not that far in," James called as Harry just kept staring without starting. Harry gave a soft jump, but managed half a smile for his dad before he got started.
Harry slammed back into consciousness the next morning well before the sun would have. He lay there for a few moments in immobile fear before adrenaline got him moving and dressed, finding the freshly pressed clothes from Mrs. Weasley on his bed.
Lily pressed her lips very firmly together. She didn't even know what would have come out of Molly doing this for her son, again, but she knew Harry wouldn't have appreciated the comment as he was clearly touched by the thought.
He snuck out of his room without awakening Ron, and with nowhere else to go headed down into the kitchen, expecting to find no one else there, but instead finding Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and Remus. Tonks managed a morning greeting for him around a yawn, this morning her hair was blond and curly.
"Wonder just how often she changes that," Sirius tried, and failed, to keep the jitteriness out of his own voice at what Harry could be fixing to read.
"On the hour I'm sure, I know you would," Remus tried, and failed, at a joking tone.
She tried to draw out a chair for Harry to sit, but only managed to knock another one over in the process.
"I'm sure that helped to wake her up," James did get up a smile for that.
Mrs. Weasley was already at the stove, prepared to get anything for breakfast Harry would like, but he only requested some toast while Lupin turned back to Tonks and clearly continued a previous conversation about Scrimgeour.
Harry shifted unconsciously at the sound of that name, while Lily wondered what that old Auror was up to.
"Hang on, I know that surname," Sirius ruffled his brow before snapping his fingers and saying, "that's right, Brutus Scrimgeour wrote a book called The Beater's Bible."
"Which holds all of one page, and one sentence," Remus rolled his eyes, "take out the Seeker, so I hardly think he should be held in such high esteem."
"That was a work of art that was," Sirius insisted, but for once Harry didn't really want to sit around and watch them pick at each other, so he was actually glad when Lily told them to quiet down.
She told that he'd been asking her and Kingsley some funny questions at work.
"Not about Sirius though?" James yelped, now very well distracted by Harry's problem.
"I'm sure that's what I'm keeping tabs on," Remus pacified.
Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation.
"Which means you weren't paying attention," Sirius pouted, as he had been a bit curious to hear the end of that.
His insides were squirming. Mrs. Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him. He tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet.
"I find it hard to believe the woman you've so consistently praised for her cooking could manage to ruin toast," Remus smirked.
"Must have something to do with having to eat all by his lonesome, that can be awkward for some," Sirius did get in an almost playful tone.
Mrs. Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his shirt. He wished she wouldn't.
"So do I," Lily couldn't seem to stop that one escaping, causing Harry to wince and not look up at her.
Tonks was still talking about how she'd have to pass the message along to Dumbledore she couldn't do guard duty again tonight, she was just to tired, punctuating that by finishing on another yawn.
"How did you manage to phase out the best part of that conversation?" James pouted. "They were talking about this mysterious guard duty again! If you can't find out about this stupid thing Voldemort wants, at least you could focus on that!"
Harry could just feel a sucker punch winding up to get him good if he even considered pausing on the phrasing of that for just a second, even if he was dying to linger on why those two things should be put together...
"He didn't phase out anything," Lily scolded, misunderstanding Harry's look. "Tonks just switched topics, don't go blaming Harry when he's been shown repeatedly to pick up on conversations that aren't even going on right next to him."
Arthur quickly offered to cover for her, he had to do a report tonight anyways.
"What on earth are they guarding that's so lax he can be doing homework while sitting on it?" Remus blinked in surprise. "I'd think that would have fallen under Harry watching duty."
"Whatever it is must be boring as drywall," Sirius agreed, meaning it couldn't be that important, just some side project. Why couldn't he at least be doing that then? He didn't bring it up though just because he didn't want to hear someone telling him again of where he was supposed to be.
Arthur turned his attention on Harry then and promised this would all be over soon, in a few hours his name would be cleared. Harry could think of nothing to say to that.
"Can't honestly think of anything to say to that either," James agreed.
He tried to soothe the hearing was on his floor, in Amelia Bones's office.
"Haven't heard of her," Lily muttered nervously.
Tonks spoke up eagerly that she was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was fair, she'd hear Harry out.
Harry wasn't at all comforted he had no actual feelings for this being said, maybe that meant it was so uneventful and he walked away in complete comfort? Then why was he feeling such a bad omen for what had just been read?
Sirius quickly tacked on not for him to lose his temper. Just stick to the facts and be polite.
"You know that kind of advice from him really is a walking oxymoron," Remus smirked.
Harry just nodded along as Lupin added that the law was on Harry's side, all underage wizards were allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.
"So everyone keeps saying," Harry grumped, "yet I can't help but notice no one can look me in the eyes when they do."
Harry didn't have to respond to that one as he was distracted by Mrs. Weasley trying to attack his hair with a wet comb, demanding of no one if it ever laid flat?
"No," all five of them said as one, James in fact ruffling up his hair for emphasis.
Harry just shook his head as answer, while Arthur butted in maybe they should just go up there early. Harry stood at once in agreement, while everyone wished him one last bit of good luck, Sirius even promising that if everything wasn't fine, he'd see to Amelia Bones.
"Least you know Sirius doesn't play around with the important things," James chuckled, leaving Harry still unsure how much of a joke that was supposed to be.
Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him, promising everyone had their fingers crossed.
"That is the most honest thing anyone's yet said to him," Lily said grudgingly.
He forced one last goodbye for them all as he followed Mr. Weasley out the front door, and even as he glanced behind Grimmauld place was vanishing behind him. Harry kept close to Mr. Weasley's heels as he asked if he normally walked to work?
Arthur said no, he usually just apparated, but considering he was making an appearance for magical misconduct, the less magical his arrival the better.
While none of them outright disagreed with that, this did feel quite odd to them. Harry had needed a whole guard to escort him to Grimmauld place from the Dursleys, but now just Arthur was deemed safe enough to get Harry there? The date of Harry's leaving that place had been unknown to even him, yet the fact that there was unquestionably spies in the Ministry who would know this date, and so could be in fact planning an ambush for Harry to arrive by his lonesome seemed honestly like a far more likely possibility. It genuinely bugged the current Order members they couldn't seem to get a handle on this Order's priorities, regarding Harry or anything!
Mr. Weasley kept his hand tight in his own pocket the whole way to the subway, and even as he entered the muggle filled underground, though his enthusiasm for looking at all things around him didn't dim.
"I really just can not wait to meet him in person," Lily said with honest fondness at the idea of him, he just seemed so pleasant and happy to be around even while he was being as on guard and serious as possible.
He kept muttering how wondrous and fabulous the old automatic ticket machines, that were out of order, were.
"Doesn't make them any less interesting," James said even without knowing what that was, and honestly not bothering to ask.
They boarded a train with Mr. Weasley constantly checking all the maps along the way, to check their stops as well as fascination on his part.
"If he usually Apparates, how does he even know where he's going?" Harry asked just for something to kick around a bit of conversation and not dwell on what he was heading towards. Why was the idea of going to the Ministry filling him with such heavy amounts of dread? Just what happened here to make him feel like running screaming from the room? This couldn't all be tied to his fear of being expelled-
"I'm sure Arthur in particular asked for directions," Lily pointed out, "but I also know that upon anyone's very first time there they have to go in through the visitor entrance, and so have to get there in the Muggle way somehow. I'm confident Arthur's just going off his memories of his first few visits there."
Every time the train came to a halt he'd utter how many stops they had left until their turn, until finally they were exiting into the street and at first he blinked around in confusion.
"Because that's encouraging to hear from your guide," Remus snorted.
For one heart stopping moment Harry thought they'd gotten lost, but then Arthur seemed to find his bearings and lead them off down a side road. He apologized for his momentary confusion, he'd never been in the visitors' entrance before.
Harry reopened his mouth with questioning eyes on his mother, who shrugged and corrected herself, "perhaps I was generalizing a bit too much then, I was speaking as a Muggleborn. I suppose as Arthur has most likely been there before he got a job, just like Ron in his youth, then it was simply just asking for directions."
They longer they walked the less imposing the buildings around them became, until finally they came into a shabby square full of unkept offices and a pub. Harry had expected something more imposing for the Ministry of Magic.
"After you've seen the Leaky Cauldron?" James reminded. "I'd have thought by now you'd learned we like to conceal our things on the outside as undesirable as possible from Muggles."
"It still threw me off," Harry shrugged.
Arthur went right up to a rickety phone booth that had a few panes of glass missing, and then offered the door for Harry to enter first.
Harry glanced around curiously, but saw no one else looking particularly surprised, which meant they'd all used this at least once. He decided to just roll with it rather than asking, as he was fixing to find out anyways.
Mr. Weasley unhooked the phone from the lever, which was falling apart and looked as if someone had tried to rip it out at some point, and dialed the number six two four four two.
Lily smiled to herself, though this time she was entirely sure she was the only one who got the joke of what those numbers could spell on a telephone, the word magic.
As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.
Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise, but only for a moment before he moved on like this was now perfectly natural to him. Lily almost longed for that childish awe she'd seen on his face at every new magical thing he'd come across back during the first few books, and suddenly wanted her baby back in her arms for just a moment, just a reminder she could still have some of her baby to her.
She spoke for them to say their name and business, and Arthur answered for both of them. A silver visitors badge slipped out of the coin slot for Harry, and then the voice instructed for them to stop by the security desk. Then the bottom of the box shuddered, and they were sinking down into the ground.
"It's underground?" Harry said in surprise.
"No reason why not," James agreed.
They went through a dark tunnel with a loud grinding noise of gears their only source of sensation, until finally light began pouring into their feat, and when Harry could finally look around again, his mouth flopped open at the sight of the Ministry of Magic.
Lily frowned to herself, now wishing because of before she could see that expression on him again, but he didn't seem too moved by the reappearance of this place in his mind. If anything he was looking more ill the longer they lingered on the place.
They were standing at one end of a splendid hall with a polished wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard.
"It is," Sirius agreed, "though those are actually enhanced star trackers and constellations in symbol form."
Harry couldn't decide if he was joking or not, but laughed all the same.
All along the edges were chimneys that were glowing green and near constantly popping out people from the Floo network arriving for work. Halfway down the hall was a fountain.
A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool.
Harry was getting more antsy the longer he kept getting out a description of that place, unconsciously moving closer to Sirius with every new thing that left his brain feeling like swiss cheese.
Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard.
James snorted in disgust, that fountain was the most idiotic thing he'd ever seen in his life.
Imposed into the bottom of the statue of Magical Brethren was a notice saying all coins donated into the water would be proceeds to St. Mungo's Hospital.
"I wonder how much income that actually generates," Lily said randomly.
"I like to think it at least makes someone happy to think it's helping," Sirius said fairly, he'd been known to dump a handful of coins in it every time he passed, which admittedly wasn't often.
Harry's first thought was, if he wasn't expelled, he'd put ten Galleons into there.
"Those magic well wishes have to come true at some point," Lily told him with a grin, causing Harry to at least smile at her again.
Mr. Weasley guided Harry into a crowd that was mostly passing a bored looking security man, but Harry stopped in front of him and was subjected to a golden rod passing over him, and then regretfully handed over his wand to be placed on a scale looking object that spat out the properties of his wand. He stabbed the information onto a notice with others and then gave Harry back his wand which he took with relief. He hardly glanced once at Harry through the whole exchange.
"Gee thanks," James rolled his eyes, though he did understand how monotonous and boring that man's job must be, it sounded impossible to muster up enthusiasm especially that early in the morning.
Harry politely thanked him all the same, which only garnered attention long enough for the man to realize who he may be looking at and glance up at Harry's forehead.
Sirius gave a sarcastic little applause for him taking so long to realize this.
Arthur was already steering Harry away though into a series of gates that went into lifts and a huge assortment of wizards, including one carrying a cardboard box that was smoking slightly.
"I'm sure that has an interesting story," James said in a strained voice as he watched Remus wince, everyone but Harry knowing which floor that box would most likely be going to.
Arthur greeted him as Bob, and asked what he had there?
"No, really, does Arthur know everyone?" Lily shook her head in disbelief as it seemed every time Arthur was mentioned he began speaking to a dozen new people.
The man began seriously no one was sure,
"No one ever seems sure about me," Sirius smirked, and Harry finally broke his stream of bad mood to giggle at that again, though it only made the flood of worry rise again to another degree...something about Sirius in this place- he closed his eyes sharply and considered whacking himself in the forehead to get his brain to stop before he really hurt himself and kept going just a spot more loudly.
It seemed like a standard chicken until it started breathing fire, and now it looked like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding.
"I would never breach any such thing!" Sirius yipped, causing Harry to laugh harder and his friends to groan louder.
The lift arrived then, and they got on with a few more people, the same cool female voice as before instructing which landing they stopped on each time, like Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, including such things as the Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office.
In the bustle of people coming and going from each stop, a man managed to whack a few people with his arms full of brooms.
"There's an Official Gobstones Club?" Harry asked, mouth twitching as he tried to picture something he'd seen as a playful game around Hogwarts in World Cup style with fans cheering on a bunch of people squatting on the ground.
"There's an official everything," James smirked.
Lily was just wondering at that last one, if that was actually a person's name or they really had to create a whole office for the insane patents people invented, both were possible honestly.
The next was Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.
"Wouldn't the man who just stepped off with the brooms go to Broom Regulatory Control?" Harry asked, seeming to get into it now of questioning each and every floor and what all those could entail. He wished he didn't have such bad feelings of this place, it sounded fascinating now that he was hearing about it.
"Depends on what the brooms are for honestly," Remus shrugged, "he could be delivering them to someone, or he could have just gotten off on the wrong floor."
Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift.
Lily blinked in confusion of what those could be for.
Harry was watching them flap around the top curiously as Arthur explained those were interdepartmental memos. They used to use live owls, but the mess was unbelievable, droppings everywhere.
"Oh," Lily nodded in understanding, "well that's new."
"Must be nice not to have to banish the mess away all day," James chuckled.
On Level Five they also passed by the Department of International Magical Cooperation,
Harry gave a bit of a wince as he read that out, hating any reminder of Percy, even where he used to work.
and Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, plus a few others.
Remus flinched hard enough he looked like he'd just dodged a deadly spell, and Harry went from looking back at the words, back to him, and blanched in surprise as he realized what about that could bother him so much. "They, they don't really have you labeled as a, as one of those do they?" He demanded.
Remus smiled without humor as he reminded Harry, "I know you took a lesson over this Harry, yes I am classified as a beast."
Harry opened and closed his mouth in outrage, but he couldn't think of how to put into words just how wrong that was, it should go without saying! A dragon was a beast, as were nifflers and that stupid chicken, but Remus fell into the same ranking as them?!
Remus was touched by Harry's reaction, but hoping to get him to move past this he explained, "My parents took me down there and had me registered after I was bitten, though thankfully the Ministry never compared that list with any of Hogwarts students, or staff for that matter or I could have gotten into a lot of trouble."
"Why would your parents do that?" Harry demanded, his face still simmering with rage. "It clearly wouldn't do you any good."
"It's the law," he quietly reminded, clearly he was only making this worse, and the faces of stone from his friends showed he wouldn't be getting any help in playing this off. "My father was a prominent man in this department, what happened to me became well known, couldn't hardly keep it hidden." The bitterness tinging his voice finally made Harry realize lingering on this was helping nothing.
The man with the fire breathing chicken stepped out here, along with the exchange of more memos coming and going, before they moved down to Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.
"I always loved the phrasing of that," Remus muttered to himself, "Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee, they couldn't come up with a better title?"
Sirius snorted quietly just because he agreed, but he was still focused on going to the floor above and giving those who had labeled his friend like that a good bat-bogey hex for starters.
Nearly everyone left on this lift, leaving only three left to reach Level Two.
"It didn't mention the office you're in this whole time," Harry noted to his mother
"It doesn't say every single one of them," Lily agreed. "As of now I'm still in the Wizengamot Administration Services, which is a lot of clerical work and learning the laws I'm hoping to one day help with. I'm working my way up to the Wizengamot Services."
For just a moment Harry was entirely sure by that steely glint in her eyes his mother could be a Minister for Magic if she put her mind to it, but then he realized what age she was and he'd never see her any older, and so quickly flipped back to reading.
Arthur stepped off with Harry, telling that his office was at the far end of this place.
"You two work on the same floor?" James asked in surprise.
"I've seen him in passing," Lily agreed, "but I've never stopped to have a chat with him. I just know our offices aren't anywhere near each other, I've certainly never visited it."
They began passing through winding corridors with an occasional window showing bright sunlight outside, which prompted Harry to ask that they were still underground.
Mr. Weasley agreed those were enchanted by the Magical Maintenance. Last time they'd wanted a raise they'd decided to make it hurricane weather for two months.
"Oh that's mature," Remus snorted.
"What I would have done," Sirius agreed with a smirk, except maybe hurricanes were too kind, tornados had much more of an impact.
They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters.
Harry felt a thrill shoot through him as he found this place. Finally something good he could focus on, he felt no ill will towards this office.
Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed.
James couldn't help a little intrigue himself. He had entertained the idea through most of his years at Hogwarts, but honestly after realizing what the job had done to Moody, even the fake one but honestly such a good act alike the point still stood, he was now considering some other options. It didn't stop him from listening intently to what he'd been thinking of himself doing.
The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Oh joy, so where am I this morning? I here Greece is lovely this time of-" he cut himself off and ducked just in time to stop Moony smacking him again.
Kingsley greeted Weasley in an indifferent tone as he called he'd like a word.
Arthur agreed if it was only for a moment, speaking as if to a passing person more than anything, while Harry tried to at least say hello to Kingsley before Mr. Weasley stepped on his foot.
"Oh come on Harry, you were even warned why it's best these two in particular not go shouting about being in touch with Voldemort," Sirius scolded for that lapse in his paying attention. "Surely you'd have guessed it wasn't a good idea for them to even pretend to know each other on anymore than a passing name."
"It caught me off guard," Harry defended, even while he shrugged in agreement he should have been paying more attention.
They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face.
"That sounds like a dream come true for Kingsley, getting to see me from all sides," Sirius forced a grin that looked almost painful, while James was considering getting up and sitting on him soon to try and force that joke to end.
Kingsley thrust some paperwork in Arthur's hands, saying he needed every bit of information possible on flying vehicles as they were now going under the assumption Black could be using his flying motorcycle.
Sirius' face suddenly puckered with a concern he hadn't had to feel since the first chapter, "what did Hagrid do with my bike?"
"Sirius Onion Black," Remus scolded at once, "I don't find that a top priority."
"Shut it you," Sirius snipped at him. "My real middle name is stupid enough, why did you ever think that was funny?"
"Same reason you seem to think mocking my middle name is," he shrugged without remorse.
Harry interrupted the two with what little he could offer, "as far as I know, err, well I'm sure someone still has it. Maybe Hagrid kept it all this time." There was something stirring in him he didn't quite like about that answer, though he had no idea why that would give him a bad memory.
Sirius did not look too happy about the idea, but as the others considered Sirius getting that monstrosity back at a time like this the worst idea possible, were relieved when Harry changed the subject.
Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper to be sure to pass along the magazine, he'd find something interesting it it.
"Kingsley's clearly a master of subtlety," James rolled his eyes.
"About as much as you are," Lily agreed.
Then back in normal tones that Weasley needed to be quick about this report, last time their investigation had been put on hold for a month because of that delay over the firelegs report.
"Wonder if he did that on purpose," Remus did get an amused smirk out of that, while James mouthed the word firelegs to himself in confusion.
Mr. Weasley coolly responded if anyone had actually read the report, they'd know the term was firearms.
"I'd be offended too," Lily agreed while she tried to hide her own smile as James realized what had really been meant.
Then he said it would have to wait at least a bit, he was very busy, then added in softer tones that if Kingsley could get off by seven, Molly would be making meatballs.
Sirius felt his stomach grumble, which he for once ignored. He couldn't care less about food right now when he needed to know how the rest of Harry's life was going to pan out in him going back to school or not.
He beckoned to Harry then and escorted him back away into a dimly lit hallway that ended with two doors, one a broom cupboard, and something resembling an office that was slightly smaller with two desks cramped inside, a tattered plaque announcing this as the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.
Lily's eyes flipped wide in surprise as she yelped, "well it's no wonder I've never found the place! Just what's this, having his whole office in that dingy little corner?"
"Didn't you say it was one of the most popular offices that people requested information from," Harry agreed as he felt the offense for Arthur rearing up in him. "Why would they have the place so dismal?"
"Disrespect," Sirius sniffed in disgust. "The Minister would never want to admit how important an office about Muggle Artefacts could be."
"Not all Ministers are like that surely," Harry persisted, though he wouldn't feel any better if he was told this was a recent downgrade.
"Honestly Harry I wish I knew more," Lily's face stayed the same red in frustration, "but I've no idea, never had to find the place myself as I've always sent an owl along."
Harry still sincerely hoped that Arthur did get what he deserved at some point. Surely the place could be magically expanded and he just liked the small space?
Still, what little space there was had been done up in Arthur's style. He had overflowing cabinets and baskets of paperwork, and the wall space was all done up with muggle things.
James suddenly felt a whim to go and have Arthur explain those things to him, as he hadn't recognized much of it. He always enjoyed Lily and Sirius telling him about this stuff, but he still had a want to try and make a connection to the Weasley's at least for Harry's sake regarding Ron, even if he wouldn't feel as prone to coming over to the house, he could draw the line at having to be on just passing name mentioning terms with Molly.
Sitting on Arthur's desk was more paperwork, a toaster hiccuping, and a picture of all the Weasleys minus Percy.
They all gave a nasty wince for that reminder, even managing to block out Harry's inquiries of the intricacies of Magic that knew what went on outside it's painting like that.
Arthur apologized for their not being a window in here, and offered Harry to sit at Perkins desk, he didn't seem to be in yet. Harry had to squeeze himself into the space to reach the chair while he watched Mr. Weasley start rifling through the papers Kingsley had handed him, extracting one called The Quibbler.
Harry felt an upsurge of affection go off in him at that particular magazine, but one quick look around and he realized it didn't mean anything to anyone in here. It did manage to make them all the more curious what this could have to do with Sirius, so he read eagerly.
He muttered to himself that yes indeed, Sirius would get a kick out of this, then cut off in surprise what that was?
"Oh come on," Sirius pouted, "I wanted to know about that thing. Don't suppose you know what The Quibbler's usual articles are Harry?" He persisted.
"No," Harry sighed with regret, "but I'm hoping I'm there when it gets passed along so I can find out too." There really was something very dear to him attached to all this.
A memo had zoomed down onto Arthur's desk and he turned attention to that instead, finding it containing information about the third regurgitating public toilet, this time located in Bethnal Green.
"Well I definitely can't say Arthur doesn't get up to some interesting things," Sirius said without a trace of sarcasm. He really wanted to go meet him as well, this was just sounding more fascinating by the minute.
Harry asked what that was about, and Mr. Weasley explained it was some Muggle baiters who'd been doing this in other towns as well. Instead of flushing the contents of the porcelain, it all came shooting up nonstop, completely confusing the pumbles who arrived to help of course.
"What's a pumble? And what's it have to do with a toilet?" James couldn't stop himself from asking now.
"I think he meant plumber, and they use tools to fix them when they get a leak, instead of us just using a charm," Sirius shrugged.
"I feel like a plumber would have an issue with this one though," Remus chuckled.
Harry corrected the term was plumbers, which Arthur quickly agreed with and said he hoped someone caught them at it soon.
Harry asked if it would be the Aurors who did that, and Arthur corrected this was too low level for them, no it would be the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, cutting himself off to greet Perkins.
Harry felt a sudden bad feeling at Perkins arrival, and rather than dwelling on that for a moment he turned curiously to ask, "so what's the difference?"
"An Auror goes after, well people like me at that time I suppose," Sirius shrugged, ignoring the wince this caused in everyone else. "Big time criminals who really are a top priority to get put away. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol deals with more trivial things, hunting down little complaints and mostly getting their exercise in by making house calls and such.
"Aurors have to start in there and work up through some really hard training and a ton of recommendations," James agreed with a suffering look. "It's why it takes so long to make it to Auror status, not many have the patience to work through all that."
Harry was still fascinated by the whole thing, but knew he couldn't play off this moment of dread forever.
A stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting.
"What's got him in such a bother?" Remus stiffened in concern, nothing could have happened to Percy to cause this, right?
He gasped in relief at finding Arthur, spluttering on about how he'd sent an owl but obviously that had been missed!
"Bet that gave us a bleeding heart attack," Sirius muttered as he kept watching the book for the bomb.
It was an urgent message-
Arthur cut off he knew about the regurgitating toilet.
"I feel like that's not entirely 'urgent'," Lily muttered with unease.
Perkins corrected this was about Potter's hearing!
Harry's voice was already pitching in concern as he realized he was fixing to go running through a living nightmare.
they've changed the time and venue - it starts right now in Courtroom Ten!
Sirius said something that Harry guessed he must have been learned from Kreacher, but he also didn't need much of a clarification for what it meant. He could already feel that nasty kick to his gut telling him he hadn't read wrong, and in fact should be preparing himself for a hard run that would be more adrenaline inducing than his sprint down to the lake last year.
Arthur at first didn't understand why they would be in the old- but then he shouted Merlin's beard and began sprinting out of sight, Harry hot on his heels.
Lily was too busy with her mouth hanging open to question why those courtrooms would be considered old? She'd press in on such Ministry changes later when she better understood what was being done to her son now?!
Shouting about how they should have been there five minutes ago!
"Th-they changed, how could they change the time and place without-" Remus was trying to stutter out a question, but Harry wasn't waiting for anyone to say anything, he was speed reading as if that would somehow make what they were hearing more understandable, but it was only confusing them all more.
They flew back through the corridors to several confused looks, and only came to a skidding halt back in front of the lifts where Mr. Weasley began pummeling the button to get them back an elevator.
'There must be a quicker way to get around that place,' James thought wildly to himself as he kept watching Harry look ready to pass out from stress any moment, was he even taking breaths?
All while muttering to himself that those courtrooms hadn't been used in years, what was going on, unless it was-
They were interrupted by the lift finally arriving, the only man being in there Bode who Arthur greeted distractedly and still smashing the button for it to close.
Lily was in such a tense and uneasy mood, she knew she'd have taken someone's head off by that point if she kept being stared at like that.
Every time it opened back up Arthur released a swear word and kept smashing on the button until finally it released on Level Nine, Department of Mysteries, with no add ons of what that could mean.
Harry gave such a gasp his jaw was left shaking slightly as he recoiled into the cushions, but he point blank refused to understand what that burning feeling rising in him was, too utterly focused on this courtroom and all it could mean for him, even if it didn't take much digging on his part to know just how untrue that was. There was something about this place, had been for ages, that had him leaning just that bit closer to Sirius now more than ever.
It opened onto a long black corridor that only seemed to have one door at the end, but as they went sprinting towards it, Harry expecting to go straight through, Arthur grabbed Harry's sleeve and jerked him down a side passage, nearly tumbling down the stairs until they reached a set of doors and found ten. Harry had the oppressed feeling of being back in Snape's dungeons the place was so dark and musty with only torches to light their way.
Sirius felt a wild noise escaping him that could have been a laugh, some irony somewhere in there of how much he hated Snape and those dungeons now being compared to something he could already feel a pulsing loathsome for of this place, and what he could already scent as a set up.
Mr. Weasley collapsed against the wall beside the door and ordered Harry to get in there, who tried to protest wasn't Arthur coming along?
He said he wasn't allowed, and wished Harry good luck. Harry's heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest as he pushed the door open.
Harry just sat there, gaping down at the pages below him while the others began furiously around him.
"Are you kidding me!" Lily thundered out first. "They really switched the times on you, for what? To make you look bad and show up late? Has someone really gone so petty they just wanted to trip you up?"
"I know you're not that naïve Lily," James had his eyes narrowed with absolute distaste at the book as he spoke calculatingly. "This isn't just some stupid prank someone was doing to him to make him look bad. No, this was a real attempt to undermine him, really strive home what those papers have been saying about him to someone."
"I know," Lily muttered in a quiet voice, she just didn't want to believe someone would do that to her baby, especially not the place she worked for.
Remus had several things he'd like to say, none of them in any way nice as he tried to picture the person responsible for doing this to Harry, but the only way to get that visual was by asking Harry, "you going to keep going? I'm ready for this nightmare to be over and you to walk back out of there giving them all the bird."
"Chapter was over," Harry muttered, though his fingers remained tensed around the books bindings, his eyes still unfocused with fear.
Sirius had to reach forward and tug hard to get it out of his grip, and only then did he look around at him and they completely misunderstood the shadow of fear that was still gripping him as he looked at Sirius passing the book to Remus for his turn.
#Harry Potter#fanfiction#reading the books#Ootp#HP#Marauders#Jilly#James Potter#remus Lupin#Sirius Black#Lily Potter
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Pride
Summary: Swangs (Fangs/Sweet Pea) Sweet Pea just has no luck when it comes to timing
TW: Use of homophobic slurs
There’s a lot of things Sweet Pea doesn’t give a shit about, he can list them either alphabetically or by his personal ranking of distain; the highest on his list is people being shitty to Fangs. He could lump it in as a general people being shitty to his friends but he’s seen and heard too many people brushing off the Southside into one group. The insults have changed. What once was chorus’s of
“Southside trash” “trailer park scum” “criminals” “hoodlums” “freaks” has now evolved into “freaks” “faggot” “bitch” “homo bastard” “degenerates” “queer”
Sweet Pea doesn’t admit to either Fangs or Toni how many times he comes over with bruised knuckles or a black eye, when he splits his lip too deep so he needs stitches. None of them are earned as recklessly as he lets them believe his temper is. He keeps his reasoning to himself, quoting the Serpent laws anytime he returns from letting his temper get the best of him like an idiot; as Toni and Fangs often yell at him. He just grins, one less person threatening them is a victory no matter how much he bleeds.
He’s the first to join the Serpents, he makes Toni wait two weeks after his ceremony, joking he doesn’t want to be upstaged. He endures her annoyed side eyes and rants about her being blood anyways. Still she waits. He feels childish asking about how the Serpents feel about LBGT members. FP looks at him like he ’s a bigger idiot than usual and introduces him to Joaquin that same night. He let’s Joaquin know he’s not his type and Joaquin makes some quip about Sweet Pea ending up with some Northside prep; he’s smiling when he says it and Sweet Pea laughs joking about he’ll find the perfect boy next door; Joaquin joins in on his jesting and they spend the night joking and laughing about imaginary Northsider’s.
It isn’t until later, when Toni and Fangs appear to bring him home that Joaquin’s eyes light up in understanding. Fang’s doesn’t get it, not when Sweet Pea pretends to be a little too drunk to lean on him, or how Joaquin gives FP a nod and sly smile. Toni is the one to cold shower him. Fangs sets him in the tub, Toni hisses how gentle he is and Fangs leaves, he always hated dousing Sweet Pea with the showers cold spray.
He’s relieved when there’s a knock at the door, Joaquin standing, sly smile on his face once more. “Glad he had the guts.” Is all he says, passing Fangs Sweet Pea’s jacket. “Wait there’s-” “Topaz’s” Fangs nods, and pushes the smaller jacket into her hands, she swears him to secrecy about her dancing around the living room.
They wake up on the couch, Sweet Pea setting mugs of coffee on the table. He cracks his neck and Toni smirks. “Fell asleep in the tub again, how the fuck do I keep ending up there?” He rolls his eyes as she shrugs. “It’s a mystery.” She flashes her jacket and Sweet Pea takes a sip of his coffee. “You pick out where you want your tat?” She beams nodding.
“You know he wants to join, he might as well already be a member anyways.” Toni speaks turning from behind the bar to nod at where Fangs plays pool with Joaquin.
“You know being a Serpent is dangerous. Especially being like we are. Anyone finds out it’s twice the reason to kill us, can’t have you being a gang member and a homo.” Sweet Pea glares at the ground, Toni places her hand on his shoulder.
“Isn’t it more dangerous to not be a Serpent then? To not have our protection.” Sweet Pea shakes his head. “He has me.” “And you have us, and him. Everyone knows Sweet Pea. Except him, you need to tell him at some point.” Sweet Pea nods. He stands bolstering himself to go over to play pool with them, to confess his feelings to Fangs, but Joaquin seems to pick up on it and vanishes too early; Fangs returns back to the bar whining to Toni about there not being any cute guys that are available. Sweet Pea knows the look Toni gives Fangs and him is meant to be a ‘you’re both idiots’ Fangs reads it as ‘can you believe this again’ and huffs retreating to where the other serpent’s are starting up darts. “Tomorrow.” He asks Toni to be there for support claiming he wants to hang out with Fangs and her like the old days.
Toni excuses herself to go home, something about her grandfather needing help; Sweet Pea steels himself, broaching the subject nervously. “Fangs, this is gonna sound really stupid but, how did you know you liked guys?” “It was more like I knew I didn’t like girls, why? Sweet Pea do you-“ He’s never seen Fangs look so hopeful. “Oh uh, I like girls, uh both, both actually.” He stumbles over the words as the hope flickers in Fang’s eyes. “Oh, good for you.” Fang’s smiles and turns to the text on his phone. “You, actually I like-“ He whispers “Hey sorry my mom needs me to call her.” Fangs looks apologetically at Sweet Pea who just nods dumbly.
Sweet Pea’s not sure if he can breathe anymore, not with the way Fangs looks numbly at the wall, or when he lets the phone and himself crumble to the ground as he shakes, choking instead of breathing. Sweet Pea tugs him onto his lap without thinking and pulls the phone up at the same time. “Mrs. Fogarty, is everything okay?” “Of course Sweet Pea, everything is fine dear.” Fang’s make a sort of gagging sound that he realizes is meant to be a no. “Tell Fangs I’ll see him tomorrow.” “Of course M-Mrs. Fogarty.” Sweet Pea hangs up and runs his hand through Fang’s hair.
“What happened? What’s wrong Fangs? What’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice calm but all Fang’s does is keep hissing and mumbling and not speaking and Sweet Pea can feel the panic rising in his chest just the same when he hears people muttering about how much better he could do than being friends with the likes of Fangs; of course there’s nothing to punch, nothing to take the anger, the fear out on, so he sits, hands fluttering against any part of Fang’s that doesn’t make him pull away. They sit for an hour, until his legs are numb from the weight of them both, and his shirt has a wet spot on each of his shoulders.
They sit in half silence; half in reality until Fangs is almost asleep, just numb staring at the doorway. Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything as Fang’s shifts in his arms, hands twisting into his shirt. “ ‘s cancer. Doc’s already said it’s a loosing fight; I can’t. I can’t Sweets; it’ll-“ Fangs doesn’t finish his body jerking as his breathing goes once more. “Fangs, hey; I’m here. I’m here.” “I shouldn’t be, I shouldn’t be- why can’t it be me Sweet’s; why it gotta be my mom.” Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything, just tightening his grip. “Can’t afford none of it, said it wouldn’t help anyways, just pain management, can’t even give her a chance.” He hisses the last bit jerking away from Sweet Pea.
“Fangs, hey listen-“ “Sorry;” He wipes at his eyes and nose. “You were sayin’ something important.” “Yeah, I uh, well fuck it doesn’t seem as important now.” He laughs a little.
“Come on, Joaquin said you got your eye on someone, you ask ‘em out yet? Is that it? You finally not single for once?” Fangs laughs a little but his throat is too raw to do more than sob awkwardly. “No I haven’t asked him out yet.” “You gonna, come on, don’t chicken out. First real boyfriend as a possibility” “Well it’s complicated.” Fangs rolls his eyes. “Can’t be that complicated, you just walk up ask him out and kiss him if he says yes.” “So you wanna go out?” Sweet Pea sighs shakily.
“Yeah like that. What?” Fangs furrows his brow. “Well I’m waiting for him to say yes, so I can kiss him.” “Oh, um the Wyrm at seven?” “Is that a yes?” Fangs nods laughing as Sweet Pea bumps their foreheads together kissing him softly.
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#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea#fangs fogarty#fangs x sweet pea#fangs fogarty imagine#swangs#sweet pea x fangs#fangs fogarty x sweet pea#riverdale imagine#riverdale request#riverdale#stattic
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fallingforyou pt.2
Ok i should mention that this fic has almost nothing to do with canon LMAO sorry i guess you could call this a UniAU or something idk. Anyway part two sorry if this is a little slow burny but i just love pining ok
Again, if you spot any mistakes or ways in which i make this non inclusive please lmk!!
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Pairing: Atsumu Miya x Reader Words: 2.6k Warnings: None that i’m aware of Part 1 | Part 3
Your whole day was shrouded in dejavu. It’s been a week since your stair incident, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking out for your saviour all week. You found yourself scanning crowds wherever you went on campus, be it a quiet library or a busy cafe. You’d mentally slap yourself when you caught yourself doing it. What would you even do if your eager eyes found his again? You were slightly aggravated at his absence. Who the hell catches someone on the stairs, casually calls them pumpkin and then disappears? Even now, your whole lecture seemed a haze as you kept wondering about what would happen once you stepped out of class. Would he be there again? A part of you wished he would, though you didn’t know what it would lead to aside from an awkward smile. Your fingers idly fiddled with your little bat stud earrings as your mind drifted here and there. The accessory was small and tasteful, but they still had the spooky spirit. You didn’t even notice the lecture come to an end until your friend was prodding your shoulder with an insistent finger. Quickly gathering your things, you followed your friend to the dreaded staircase. You turned around, half expecting the boy from last week to be behind you, but the hallway was empty. Your chest felt tight. Was it relief? Or did you hope he would be there? Your friend surprisingly made no comments about the incident last week, though you did make sure to hold onto the rail as you made your way down.
After a week of searching, a pair of familiar eyes finally found yours after you stepped outside the double doors of your block. Would it be naive of you to think he waited for you? You felt an additional set of eyes on you, a gaze belonging to someone with wildly styled black and white hair. You barely registered the other person next to the golden haired boy before he caught your attention again.
“Did ya make it down the stairs safely this time?” he said with a melodic laugh, “Or did someone else have to catch ya?” he asked, his eyes drifting to your friend who seemed to share his amusement. On the other hand, your mysterious hero’s friend’s face flooded with realisation upon hearing his teasing regarding stairs, putting two and two together.
A grand blush and slight frown morphed your face, opening your mouth to respond that actually, you made it down just fine, but you were interrupted before you could get even one syllable out.
“Oh! Is that them, Atsumu?” He asked, oddly enthusiastic.
Atsumu. His name was now branded on your brain, filling out all the gaps in your daydreams. Your friend’s head darted to the new person in the equation. Did he drop his name on purpose? Either way, an idea quietly blossomed in their mind as they watched the interaction play out.
You, however, were astounded. Before Atsumu could even react to his friend’s question, you blew up, clearly mortified.
“You TOLD HIM?” you exclaimed, gripping the strap of your bag to ground yourself. Atsumu’s eyes snapped from confused to entertained in seconds, letting out another laugh.
“Sorry, Pumpkin, it’s not every day I get to be a hero,” he explained, though his tone was anything but apologetic. Unbelievable. How could he call you that so casually, as if it didn’t set your racing? His satisfied eyes left yours to acknowledge your laughing friend. They exchanged a few comments about last week’s incident, sharing jokes about your ordeal, however you weren’t able to focus, no matter how annoyed you might be. You felt an electrifying gaze fixed on you; Atsumu’s friend was staring at you, unblinking, as if absorbing your entire essence. You tried to avoid his borderline glaring, shrinking back as if it would make you disappear from his line of sight. Atsumu noticed you were no longer defending yourself from his or your friend’s teasing, clocking how uncomfortable you suddenly looked. His eyebrows stitched themselves into a quick frown, his voice switching from light and playful to deep and stern.
“Oi, Bokuto, don’t stare.” he said, flicking said friend in the temple to snap him out of his trance. He yelped out a melodramatic OW, mumbling out an apology as he rubbed his head and avoided staring or even glancing at you. Atsumu’s hands returned to the pockets of his blue hoodie, his smile providing a seemingly genuine apology. Bokuto, as you had just learned, tapped away on his phone. His miserable demeanour quickly melted away as his head whipped around. Almost immediately you heard someone yell his name. You spotted a bright head of ginger hair in the distance, waving enthusiastically, shouting something about hurrying up and being late. Bokuto shouted back at the boy, looking to Atsumu expectantly. The boy in question gave you another warm smile.
“Stay safe, yeah? I can’t always be around,” he teased.
“And you stop bragging and telling people about what happened,” you said, a bit more hostile than you intended, “it’s embarrassing,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to catch your words. He only responded with a hum, not accepting nor denying your plea. And with that he turned and walked away, Bokuto giving you a loud BYE and wave as he ran ahead to meet with the ginger boy. You grumbled something incohesive. That went nowhere. Were you destined to see him once a week? For him to plague your thoughts for days, later thinking you’re over it only for him to show up and fuel your mind all over again? It seemed unfair. You were dragged out of your thoughts by your friend’s drawn out groan.
“He left way too soon,” they stated, “I was totally gonna drop your name before he went.” They crossed their arms, clearly, if not more, dissatisfied than you were. You only looked at them quizzically. You didn’t want to admit that maybe you liked him not knowing your name. Using Pumpkin as a placeholder was awfully cute. “Well hey, at least you know his name now.” You shrugged, still trying to appear disinterested to your friend, though that fact was the only thing on your mind. You started to walk towards the library. Your friend followed, glancing back to see Atsumu and his friends to have already vanished from the scene. As you entered the building, holding the door open for your friend, you noticed them giving you a cheeky smile. You tilted your head in question.
“He told people about you,” they said as they nudged you. You blushed but put on a defensive front nonetheless.
“What’s your point? As if you wouldn’t tell people you saw someone fall,” you accused.
“Ok well-” they were cut off by a sharp shhh from a nearby librarian. They raised their hand in apology and followed after you, searching the aisles to find you. “I think this was different,” they whispered.
“Why?” you couldn’t help but feel hope bubbling up inside you. Your friend looked around before responding, the sentence too long to simply whisper.
“Well you saw the way the other guy looked at you. He was curious, as if he was trying to figure something out. And he dropped his name out of nowhere. He’s totally acting as his wingman,” your friend winked, though you seemed unconvinced. The name drop didn’t seem deliberate to you, but you had to admit there was something odd about his stare.
“And,” your friend lifted a finger to illustrate their point, “he didn’t laugh.” This caught your attention.
“What?”
“He didn’t laugh! If Atsumu was talking about you and treating you as some kind of joke, surely the guy would have joined in on the teasing. But he didn’t.” Your friend looked satisfied with their theory. You hummed, considering their arguments.
“I guess you have a point,” you said, emphasising the word guess to signify your still present doubts.
“Trust me, you’ll see him again next week,” they caught the glare from the same librarian and lowered their voice, “or sooner!” They gave you a wide, encouraging smile. You sincerely hoped that would be the case. Only time could tell.
-
The days got increasingly colder as your semester went on. It was a Wednesday morning, and though you only had one fairly short class today, it wasn’t a day you particularly enjoyed as you and your friend were in separate classes, yours being in the afternoon. You’d accompany your friend to the campus, and waiting alone was no fun task. Yes, you could use this time to be productive and study, but you’d much rather watch people out of the grand window of the main building, your eyes following random figures as they bustled around, getting to wherever they needed to be. Yes, maybe you were using this time to spot a familiar mess of blonde hair, but you wouldn’t admit that to anybody. Not even yourself. You took out your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw you still had at least 2 hours to waste. You tapped your fingers on your knee, pondering your next move. Maybe you should study a bit.
You lifted yourself with a sigh, readjusting your new pumpkin hair pins for good measure and headed for the revolving doors. The cold air slammed into you as soon as you stepped out, the temperature shock being so severe that you had to give yourself a second to calm your watering eyes. You fixed up your scarf to cover up more of your neck, setting your destination for the library. Before you could even take a few in your desired direction, something made you stop in your tracks.
“Hey!! Pumpkin!!” a certain someone shouted across the small, busy, university square. Your head swivelled around far too quickly, subconsciously finding too much identification with the nickname. Your eyes were wide when you spotted Atsumu surrounded by a group of friends, amongst which you only recognised Bokuto, who gave you a grin. Atsumu waved at you casually, apparently not finding an issue with publicly labelling you with such a cute nickname. The group seemed equally unfazed, as if used to his antics, though their eyes were trained on you with a certain curiosity. Atsumu had a sly smile on his face when he saw your blush, even at a distance. Bokuto eagerly beckoned you over, to which you looked to Atsumu for confirmation. He coaxed you to come with a nod of his head, his hands comfortable in his pockets. You covered the lower half of your face with your scarf in an attempt to hide your warm blush and made your way over to the group. You were greeted with nods and quiet hellos, though they knew it was pointless as you and Atsumu had your eyes trained only on one another.
“Hey,” he spoke in that deep voice that made your face feel even hotter.
“Hey,” you replied, though you noticed your response was muffled by your scarf. You quickly tugged it down to speak clearly, at which he chuckled. “Hey.” you tried again. Atsumu’s gaze subtly drank in your appearance, definitely noting the new accessories in your hair. By now he figured this was an October exclusive, and he missed them already though November was still weeks away. Bokuto shoved himself between you and Atsumu, breaking the silent tension, not only between the two of you, but the whole group.
“Hello! My name is Bokuto, you already heard his name,” he pointed to Atsumu, but his eyes never left yours, “you are?” he looked at you expectantly, his golden eyes piercing through you. You blinked. Was he really his wingman? Or was he just very VERY excitable? You noticed he was also holding out his hand for a greeting handshake. You took it cautiously, alarmed at how his grip and shake almost rocked your entire body.
“Y/n,” you managed to stutter once his grip lessened. You didn’t catch the glint of jealousy in Atsumu’s eyes. He quickly moved in to take your now available hand. Your eyes shot up to meet him.
“Y/n,” he tested your name on his tongue, immediately loving the taste. “Nice to formally meet ya,” he put a teasing emphasis on the word formally, alluding to your first meeting. Your barriers regarding the embarrassing event finally seemed to break down, feeling comfort in his warm hands, accepting his teasing as non malicious. You giggled.
“Yes,” you agreed “nice to formally meet you,” you said with an equally playful tone. Atsumu tried to look unfazed at your smile, your giggling, the way your body language no longer looked so tense. Though to you he looked just as composed and relaxed as any other time, his friends could easily tell he was close to losing his cool. He noticed he was still holding your hand and quickly let go, but played it off by nonchalantly putting them back in his pockets.
Bokuto looked between the two of you. He knew Atsumu wanted to ask you to come to one of their games, but he didn’t want to scare you off by being too forward too soon. He could almost see the gears turning in his head, testing out the different scenarios and how to bring it up, whether to simply ask you to come, or to ask if you have any interest in volleyball, or to just casually bring it up and see how you respond. Before either Bokuto or Atsumu could speak up, someone else in the group spoke up.
“Where’s Hinata? We’re going to be late to the meeting.” grumbled a boy with a face mask, unbothered by the way it muffled his words.
“Ah, he must still be practicing in the gym,” explained Atsumu, taking out his phone to check the time.
“What…” the masked boy frowned even more. Practicing? With who? The whole team was here. Surely he wasn’t just jumping around in an empty gym hall.
Your head tipped to the side in interest.
“Practice? What do you play?” You took in Atsumu’s build. You should have guessed he was some kind of athlete. His face brightened at the opportunity.
“Ah, volleyball,” he hummed.
“You should come watch us play some time!” Bokuto jutted in, his face slightly too close to yours. Atsumu grabbed the back of his hood to jerk him back. You let out a small laugh, finding it amusing how this is the second time Atsumu had to control Bokuto. He tried to ignore the flutter in his chest when he heard you laugh, releasing the iron grip on his friend.
“Definitely,” his voice was almost a purr. You swallowed and nodded. His demeanour went back to bright and playful, “perfect, I’ll let ya know when somethin comes up.” You nodded again as if in a trance, making him smile fondly. He quickly checked the time again and turned to go. “See ya ‘round then, yeah?” he said with a wave. You waved in response.
“Just don’t cheer when he serves.” said the masked boy sternly before he went to follow the retreating group. His voice sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. It seemed like a threatening warning rather than friendly advice on sports etiquette. You turned back in the direction of the library, not wanting to stare at the group until they disappeared. Your walk to your destination seemed a haze. You wondered when you’d hear from him again, and cursed at yourself for not asking him for his phone number. There’s always next time, you thought to yourself.
Till next time, then.
#Miya Atsumu#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines#atsumu haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios
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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 3.4}
*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 3.6k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
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Hogsmeade was quite as underwhelming as Robin had anticipated, but she found that she enjoyed it nonetheless. High street was crowded with students of all ages, as well as with adults of all ages, which overall was something Robin didn't enjoy. However the shops and taverns looked rather appealing in their particular aesthetic, and she made sure to actually take the time to visit some of them the next time she came here. Today however, she was on a mission.
Finding the way Professor Snape had described was easier than expected, and Robin had to snort at the sheer understatement of him saying students rarely came this way… Everything that lay off high street was practically void of any life in general! Deserted so much that she felt comfortable immediately. No people was better than too many people.
The walk to the shop wasn't actually all that long long, but then again, it was a really small village in general, so this was not at all surprising. Soon, Robin stood in front of the black building with the gold inscription and gave it a lookover. The place seemed dubious, gloomy and just so incredibly low profile that it must undoubtedly be important. Just the place she would expect nobody but Snape to know about. Now… she only needed to gather up the courage to go in. With a deep breath, Robin built up her walls to force all anxiety and doubt out of her mind. If there had ever been a time to allow herself to be bold, it was now. Bold, and stoic, and serious… sound familiar much? Robin rolled her eyes at herself, and opened the door.
"Scurry off, kid… This isn't a place for the innocent." A scratchy male voice greeted Robin the very moment she set foot into the shop.
"If you talk to all customers like that, I'm not surprised that I'm the only one in here. And the first in just how long…? Going by the dust on the shelves and the look on your face, I'd say it's been a while." She shot right back, a perfect copy of calm indifference on her face, even though her heart beat like crazy. No place for the innocent indeed.
The man's eyebrows lifted higher than Robin thought possible, and he let out a small laugh in accordance with his astonished expression. "Fast mouth for such a little thing… Say, how old are you anyway?"
Robin completely ignored the question and simply looked at the man for a moment, making it clear that she wasn't here to chat. Then she went straight to the core of her presence. "I need a variety of ingredients for a potion and I was told I could get them here."
The man lifted an eyebrow at Robin again, but his superior smirk vanished to make room for a neutral expression. Good, maybe he would actually start taking her seriously now. "You want to talk business, alright… Who told you that you could find what you need here, with me?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes! It matters because I haven't made my mind up if I'm gonna screw you over or not, and your affiliations could play an important part in that decision."
"Who says I can be screwed over in the first place?" Honestly, Robin didn't know why she didn't just tell the man that Snape had sent her. It would likely make things way easier for her to just rely on the professor's reputation. But then again, exactly that was the issue: Robin wanted to be taken seriously for her own sake. And she would never achieve that if she placed herself in Snape's shadow now. Then she'd never be more than the little errand girl.
"You'd be surprised who I've already conned… Wizards far more experienced, and witches far greater than you." The man chuckled. "But I like you, kid. No funny business. What do you need?"
Tersely, Robin read the list of ingredients to him and he moved through the room behind the counter to gather up the various things in return. A minute later, he placed what she'd asked for on the counter. Almost what she'd asked for.
"This isn't Abraxan hair. But you surely knew that already, seeing as you tried selling it to me. It's probably Granian, isn't it?" Robin commented with an (admittedly feigned) unimpressed expression. "I'll grant it to you, they're very similar, but not enough to fool me. You see, while Granian is originally grey in color, it can bleach out enough to turn white naturally. That however, even in the best cases, leaves it with just a hint of an undertone of a different color. Abraxan hair on the other hand is purely white by nature, and thus void of every and any undertone. Looking at this, there's definitely more grey than white in it, wouldn't you say?"
Now the man's jaw dropped in anything BUT amusement, and he looked as incredulous as any person probably could. Surely he hadn't seen that coming… but Robin for her part merely kept looking at him in perfect neutrality. After half a minute of dead silence, he finally spoke up with the first honest expression he had worn since Robin had entered the shop. "Who the hell are you?"
"Someone you don't want to screw over no matter who I'm affiliated with. Now, would you be so kind and bring me the correct ingredients?"
"As you wish." He replied immediately, finally void of all humor and joke, and went back to the shelves to bring out what looked like the same seven ingredients already present on the counter. Those ones he merely swiped out of the way, and placed the new items down with much more care than the first time. "Is this everything you need?"
Robin let her eyes travel over the ingredients slowly, considering and foremost conscious of the fact that she was being watched. The Abraxan hair now looked like what Robin assumed it was supposed to… and that was about everything she could tell. Honestly, to her, all of the other ingredients looked exactly the same as before. She had absolutely no knowledge about any of these items, leave alone any clue to identify if they were what they were supposed to be. It had merely been her dumb luck yet again that she had recently read an article about freaking Abraxan hair and it's astonishing similarities to Granian hair, and even more dumb luck that she had been right in calling him out. Dumb luck was rarely deserved… But she would still take as much of it as she could, as it obviously had just sufficed to make this man believe that she knew more than she actually did.
With her neutral facade still running smoothly, she looked back up at him behind the counter. "Yes, this will be everything. For now."
"You're freaking me out, Miss, but I do respect your knowledge. Not many people would've known the difference between those hairs, and I least expected it from s-..." He stopped mid-sentence as he noticed Robin's glare, then a muscle in his jaw ticked and he avoided her eyes in fairly obvious discomfort. "...from someone like you. This will be sixty five galleons."
"For account of Severus Snape."
"Bloody hell…" The man groaned and hid his face in his hands. "You're with him?!"
"Do you have a problem with that?" Robin rose her eyebrows in question and stared him down again, which clearly seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. On the inside, Robin's pride did a happy dance… she really was doing Snape justice here.
"Let's say I have a lot of respect for that man… But you're no better than him, looking like you can kill with your glares…" He made a face that was almost the opposite of the mocking distaste he'd shown her when she'd entered the shop. "Just take your stuff and go, will ya?"
With a small, innocent smile Robin packed the ingredients into her backpack and then looked back at the man once more while she made for the exit. "Thank you for your assistance. Have a nice day." Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and let herself out into the street at last.
She managed to keep her neutral facade up until she took the first turn back towards high street. Then the grin on her face widened until it was simply unstoppable, and she had to walk up and down the alley a few times to calm down her racing heart and her lasting excitement. Bloody hell, that had been both absolutely exhilarating and absolutely frightening all at once. Robin couldn't believe that she had actually managed to be intimidating all on her own, and that she'd been taken seriously because of that. No wonder Snape preferred everyone to be intimidated by him… it surely was a good way to get respect.
Finally her heartbeat slowed down, and Robin made her way back to high street with a small smile. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a candy shop here in Hogsmeade… and Snape would surely still be stuck with David until dinner. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to visit that shop before heading back to the castle… maybe it wouldn't hurt to do something normal for once.
… … …
It was late afternoon when Robin left Hogsmeade to head back to the castle, not long after her quick visit to the candy shop had come to a rather sudden end when she had felt absolutely overwhelmed by a horde of people storming the shop, which then had resulted in Robin's immediate departure. Unfortunately, this was exactly the time when most other students decided to return to the school as well, which left Robin stuck in an entire throng of people on their slow trod back to Hogwarts.
"Didn't expect to see you here, jay, out of all people…" A boy one year above Robin spoke up as he fell into line with her. She didn't know him, not really… she only knew that he was one of the Slytherins who took particular joy in bullying her for some reason. She had never cared enough to find out more about him than that though.
"But then again, David did say something like that." He mused, shrugging, then skipped a step ahead and walked backwards as he looked at Robin. "He also said something about you getting him into trouble with Professor Snape, do you happen to know anything about that?"
Robin continued to ignore him, and simply looked at a point far behind his shoulder as she walked on. This kid was friends with David? And David had spilled the tea on the events of last night? Great… that certainly didn't make it easier to ignore his mocking. Robin would just have to stay neutral and ignore this incident, same as always. But obviously the boy wouldn't have that, and neither would his friends who Robin only noticed closing in as they had formed a loose circle around her already. Oh geez, she really wasn't in the mood to deal with these idiots right now… today had already been exhausting enough as it is.
"David said you would be running some errands for Snape today… Is that what you were doing in Hogsmeade?" He frowned at Robin with a mean grin. "You're such a teacher's pet, you know that jay?"
"If that's what it takes to talk to someone other than you idiots for a while, then yes, I'm indeed a teacher's pet. Happily." She replied at last, refusing to let that be used as an insult against her. Getting along with her professors was a good thing, getting along with Snape was great, even, and nobody could convince her otherwise.
"So what is it that you did for him in town? Got him some new torture device? Or poisoned a few people?" The boy mocked, and his friends proved themselves to be loyal peasants as they laughed about his every joke. Again, Robin decided to say nothing. Even if that wouldn't stop them from being jerks, it at least wouldn't make her one of them. Insults never led anywhere other than to more insults, and Robin could very well refrain from getting involved in it. That however was until their strategy changed from insults to actions. "Why don't we take a look into that backpack of yours, huh? See what you hide in there…"
In an instant, the boys beset her and the bag was ripped from her shoulders while they held her arms at her sides with two boys each. Alright, neutrality went a long way with Robin, but this was a step too far. In a natural response of fight or flight, she chose to fight indeed and moved to free her arms, actually succeeding in that, before she lunged at the boy in front of her. Nope, she wouldn't let this vile creature touch any of her belongings.
The boy barely escaped Robin as she jumped at him, but before she could make any attempt to either go at him again or draw her wand, he dashed off together with his friends, Robin's bag still in his hands. In an instant she was after them, not even caring if she had to push people out of the way or go at a full sprint over uneven ground to catch up with them. She would get that bag back, no matter what. This was the third time today she was forcefully reminded that she was only a student, one who didn't fit into her house, one who couldn't escape the cage she had been put into, one who couldn't even prevent getting involved in the childish behavior and shenanigans of her peers. However this time, for once, she had no other choice but to get her hands dirty as well.
… … …
It was over an hour later when Robin made it back into the castle, her bag clutched tightly in her blood and mud covered hands. Hopefully nobody would see her like this. Hopefully she could sneak past everyone despite the stupid limp caused by a twisted ankle. Hopefully… this day would just be over soon. Every step felt like a knife to the core, every inch of her skin burnt like it was clawed open and dipped in salt, and every muscle felt like it was ripped apart anew with each movement. Put shortly, Robin was in quite a bit of pain, but she refused to allow herself to cry over it, to even be bothered by it at all. She wouldn't give them that last pleasure, not even in their absence. She refused to acknowledge that their sheer idiocy had resulted in her getting hurt, even if it hadn't been their intention. There was only a certain capacity for emotions Robin could endure every day, and today she had long run out.
Once she caught sight of herself in the glass of a cabinet, she still had to close her eyes for a moment to force away the anger, and the embarrassment. Honestly, she could be partaking in a contest for the best zombie costume… only that the blood and cuts covering her skin were her own, and the dark bruise forming on her cheekbone was only one of the many that remained hidden under her clothes. However she still considered herself lucky as she made her way to the dungeons, entirely unseen and soon swallowed by darkness. She had gotten her backpack back, and it was still as good as it had been this morning, with its entire contents merely a little shaken up from the run but otherwise in perfectly ordinary condition. The same thing really couldn't be said about her own self, but quite frankly Robin worried more about her possessions than about her body. Bodies healed, objects didn't. Especially not rare potions ingredients that weren't even her possession in the first place.
Robin's feet carried her to the door of the potions classroom without detours, but before she opened the door she took a moment to remind herself of what she would likely find behind this door. The reason for her catastrophical evening going down like it had in the first place, and thus the (even if indirect) reason for the agonizing pain she was in. David. Truth be told, Robin felt very tempted to burst into the room at once and torture that boy without even having to voice a single spell and before he even realized that she was there. But that revenge would be short lived, unproductive and highly inappropriate, even if probably very satisfying for a very short moment. This was the same situation she'd been confronted with in her first year with Alexander, only on a different scale… and she wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She'd try to be better this time.
After taking a deep and thereby slightly painful breath, Robin opened the door and walked into the room with as little limping as she could. Slowly and forcefully calmly she walked towards the front of the classroom where Professor Snape hadn't even bothered looking up from the book on his desk. Perhaps he was so focused on whatever he was reading that he hadn't noticed Robin's fairly silent entry… He didn't look like he was deliberately ignoring her, at least.
On her way to the front, Robin focused her entire attention on Snape, thus on her own part deliberately ignoring David and two other students who were sitting at their own desks and probably writing up some assignments. They, however, didn't ignore her.
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?!" David of course was the first to blurt out the obvious, though in a tone so entirely amused that Robin felt tempted to reconsider her decision on torturing him. "Looks like you've finally fallen out of your ivory tower, huh?"
That at last got Snape's attention, and his eyes lifted off the book in lightning speed to find David across the room, however his gaze came to a sudden halt on Robin instead. The sheer amount of barely noticeable microexpressions flashing over his face right then would have sufficed to keep Robin thinking for an hour at the least, but she wasn't granted that time before he was back to neutrality and addressing her in the gravest of tones. "What happened?"
"I would rather tell you about that without… the additional ears, sir." Robin brought out in a quiet and calm voice that however was just a bit too breathy to not give away how she truly felt. In pain, but also surprisingly numb. Looks like she really had run out of any emotional capacity for the day.
Snape's eyes moved from Robin to the clock on the wall, then to the three other students sitting in the room, and finally back to Robin. "Detention will be over when dinner starts, in approximately forty minutes. If you have no other obligations, you should wait for me in my laboratory."
The laboratory? Goodness, Robin wouldn't be able to decline that no matter how much pain she was in. "Thank you, sir, I will do just that."
"You know how to enter." He merely replied with another of those pointed looks and finally turned his eyes back down to his book.
Robin could tell that he wasn't reading though. The muscles in his jaw were clenching, even if only subtly, and he looked way too tense to be focusing on anything but the room around him. Yet, she understood that this wasn't the place for further conversation, as of her own request, and thus she made her way back to the door with quick steps that hurt more than could be healthy. Three pairs of eyes followed Robin as she grabbed the doorframe too tightly to replace a pained hiss, opened the door abruptly and almost fell into the hallway before slamming it shut again. So much for being subtle.
The walk was luckily short and dark, and Robin found that she could enter the lab with the same spell as the classrooms indeed, but this time she made the effort to lock the door behind herself with the corresponding spell for once. Only then she felt like she could finally loosen the grasp on her bag, could finally allow herself to hurt, could take a true breath at last. The small space really had a calming effect on her, even now. She didn't bother lighting up the candles before she dropped her bag in a corner and sat down on the floor with her back against the side of one of the shelves. Having the wood pressing her jumper against her sore skin wasn't the most pleasant feeling, but sitting at last was enough of a relief to still allow a deep relaxation to wash over her nonetheless. Now that the adrenaline was slowly wearing off and the necessity to protect herself was withdrawing in her head, she felt surprisingly dizzy as she stared out of the window into the last bits of dark grey sky that were slowly taken over by blackness. Before she knew it, the blackness had swallowed her as well.
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