#but i haven’t felt that truly blatantly appreciated in a long time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beardrabbles · 3 years ago

Text

invitation.

characters: GN!reader, claude, mentions of GN!byleth

warnings: none

word count: 2,814

notes: posted this on ao3 ages ago and totally forgot to post it here too :’) got into the fandom late, like alwaaaays! but i have an enormous claude / golden deer bias and wanted to write some fluff with him.

You forgot sometimes that this peaceful spot tucked between the trees wasn’t yours alone. You shared it with another from time to time, but it had been so long since the last time you both stepped foot in the clearing that it startled you to hear footfalls crunching at the grass behind you. Pushing yourself up halfway, eyes blinking blearily, you spotted the richly dressed prince with his hands planted on his hips.

“Napping without me?” Claude clicked his tongue, and you quickly replied with a roll of your eyes.

“I can’t nap here on my own?” You fell back again, letting the soft grass cushion you. A soft, content sigh escaped through your nose as the sweetest of breezes barely brushed your skin. It smelled of flowers and damp leaves, dense soil and a distant storm. There was no zing of hot iron or blood, and it was a relief.

“I thought it was our thing. . .”

You felt him sit beside you, taking up his usual position to your left. The tiniest flutter tickled the inside of your ribs, his nearness nearly making your head spin. “Before I came along, it was just your thing, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but I like it better this way.” Claude leaned back on his hands, eyes up towards the greying sky. It had taken fighting a war to bring back their usual glimmer, but it was there in full. Bright, hopeful, determined. Laying there, gazing up at the unsuspecting prince, it was almost as if you were looking at the man from five years ago — the cunning, clever and sometimes troublesome man that you had fallen head-over-heels for and had continued to painfully pine for.

“Me too.” You dared to smile, his gaze shifting to you. Adoring him hurt, but no amount of hurt would have you appreciating his presence any less.

Claude returned the smile, and the gesture sent your heart slamming against your chest. But just as quickly as it came, the smile faded. “I spoke to Byleth.”

You sat up in an instant, concern etched into your face. You were aware that he had gone to meet them, but he had failed to tell you why. You equally failed to push the subject, as it wasn’t your place to disrespect a man in his position. Curious as you might have been, you assumed it was best not to ask and only hope that he trusted you enough to confide in you later. Seemed you were right, though you acknowledged to yourself that it was a rare thing.

“How did it go?”

“They’re disappointed I won’t be here for the coronation. I can’t blame them. After everything we’ve been through together, I should be here for them. I want to hope they understands. They always have.” He exhaled sharply. “But, hey, I got to see them smile again! I think as long as they’re here, Fódlan will be in good hands. If they keeps smiling, if they keep breaking down the walls that were built up, I can go home and do my part there. I trust them.”

You shifted, feeling uncomfortable in your envy.

“So they’re not coming with you to Almyra?” You wondered. Claude shook his head.

“No, and I didn’t want to ask. Fódlan needs to be taken care of. It needs a parent that will hold its hand and lead it in the right direction. It’s gonna stumble around like an infant walking for the first time, but that’s why they’re the best person to lead. They’ll know what to say and do to help this little baby along.”

You screwed up your face and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You really like talking about babies.” You pointed out. Claude’s cheeks and the tips of his ears darkened a fraction, but he dismissed it with a hearty chuckle.

“I guess I do. I wonder why that is.” He trailed off, voice soft but nowhere near as confused as his words would have lead you to believe. You had long ago resigned yourself to never truly understanding him, so you shrugged. Trying to pick through his mind was like attempting a hedge maze without a map.

“Does that mean you’re going to be heading back soon?”

“I can’t stay for long. There’s so much I need to do if I’m going to see things through, but there’s something important I need to do here before I can go home.” There was sharpness to his eyes that you recognized and deeply adored. He was planning something, and you felt your curiosity rise again.

“What is it? Can I help?” You were always so quick to offer him aid. Usually, he gently denied it, stating time and time again that most of his schemes were for his mind alone. Things often worked out for the better that way. The fewer people that knew, the less chance they could commandeer the plan or ruin it. Yet you still asked just in case he needed you.

“Maybe. Before that, can I ask you something?”

You frowned. “Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“You’ve been saying that since we met. Is it really true?” Claude smirked and raised a single brow, only for you to shove him harmlessly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” You eyed him for a moment, worry mounting. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

The prince shook his head, as if he were getting off track. “No. I wanted to know where you plan to go. What are your plans for the future?”

“Oh! Oh.” You frowned when the sudden realization that you had no plans slammed into you. “I don’t. . . know. I haven’t thought about it. I’ve been so busy supporting everyone else, doing what I can for them, that I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyone’s grown up. They’re all doing their own thing, starting their own lives. No one needs me anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Claude’s voice was firm in your ear, and his expression was set to match. You smiled meekly.

“I grew up with all of you, but it felt like my purpose was to help you all find yours. Not that I really think I’m capable of being that helpful, but I never took the time to think about myself. I was too worried about you all reaching your dreams that I didn’t have one. I don’t have one.” You amended the last part quickly because it was blatantly clear to you that you had no direction to go in.

“There has to be something you want.” Claude pushed. You laughed.

“At the risk of repeating myself, I want what you want. I want you to succeed.” You opened your mouth again, but were quick to clamp them shut when another thought arose. I want to be with you.

It was lovely to imagine, but you had lived with the fact that any future with him was left solely to your imagination. You met him as an heir, and you knew him now as a prince. The differences in your status was vast and hard to ignore. Claude had his mind set on making those differences unimportant, but you doubted that he could find room in his heart for you. He had a country to take care of and love, not to mention you two had been friends since the start of your time at the academy. Too much time had passed since then, and while your feelings had grown deeper and more troublesome, you were sure he had none to begin with. No, as students, he had been too preoccupied with tormenting you. Teasing, poking, taking up your time with nonsense and rarely giving you a moment to yourself.

Despite him being a brat at times, you loved him. And even if he didn’t reciprocate, you were grateful to have known him at all.

“So you’re not bound to Fódlan?” His voice shook you from your thoughts.

“What?”

“Do you have any obligations here in Fódlan?” His gaze was so intently set on you that it made you squirm, the feeling ten times worse since coming out of your own head.

“No, not that I can think of.” You couldn’t recall making any promises.

“Right, so you could leave.” Claude hummed thoughtfully and got to his feet. Once upright, he dusted the grass from his clothes and offered you a hand. Confused, you took it and let him pull you into standing.

“I guess I could, but where would I even go? I don’t know anyone outside of Fódlan.” You felt something subtle was being said, you couldn’t catch on. Some days, you could. You had learned him just as he had learned you, but he was always several steps ahead. You could read him, but only the pages he allowed you to see. In this case, the pages were written on, but only in bits and pieces.

Claude gave you a pointed stare and a gentle, encouraging squeeze to your hand. When you failed to understand, he raised both eyebrows and pointed to himself. No words were needed. His gestures and odd line of questioning were like a clarifying slap to the face. You reeled, giving him a wide-eyed stare while sputtering idiotically.

“Wh——”

“That took you while. I was starting to worry I’d have to spell it out for you.” Claude put on a convincing pout. “Unless this is your weird way of telling me you don’t want to come with me.”

“No!” You leaped too soon, your eagerness prompting a smirk on the prince’s face. You fell silent again, worried that saying anything more might reveal all of what you had been trying to hide for over five years. “I’m not saying that.”

“What are you saying?” He purred cunningly, hand still holding tightly to yours. You didn’t resist when he to eased you closer, your heart screaming in your chest. Cheeks red and breaths shallow, you could hardly think. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

I’m still napping, and this is just another stupid dream.

You swallowed hard and peered up at him. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Vague.”

“Ah-ah,” chided the cheeky man, “you’ll have to address me as Prince Vague now.”

You scoffed and gave him another shove. When your hand pressed to his shoulder, he trapped it there with his own. Even closer now, Claude lowered his head until your noses nearly touched. You sucked in a breath and found yourself unable to move away, attention trapped in his bright, beautiful eyes.

“You want to know what I’m asking you?” He lowered his voice, tone growing tender and warm. You nodded. “I’m asking if you’ll come home with me. I want you to meet my parents and my people, and I want them to meet you. I want them to love you as much as——”

He choked for a moment, a rare flicker of pure emotion startling him.

“As much as what?” You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Claude calmed himself with a shaky breath and tilted his chin down, lips barely ghosting the curve of your cheek. His eyes fluttered half closed, while a single lock of his dark hair tickled at your cheek. When you didn’t shy away, he spoke again in honeyed tones. “I want them to love you as much as I do.”

“You can’t mean that.” Your entire being felt numb with glee, but you couldn’t process his confession without a little doubt. He met your doubt with a chuckle, so you persisted. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He nuzzled into your cheek, and you felt the compulsion to reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. You had done so many times before, letting the gentle touches calm him during his bad days, but there was new meaning behind it now. There was an honest love behind it as your dragged your fingers through the strands, pushing them back and away from his darling face.

“There were so many others. . .” So many people wanted his attention, his affection. You were but one in a thousand that longed for him.

“I didn’t care. I dreamed of many futures, and all of the best ones had you standing there beside me.” He muttered into you, the softest of kisses resting just under your eye.

“We argued so much.” You shuddered, warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“You kept me grounded. How can anyone expect to be a decent ruler if they’re always agreed with?” He countered. You huffed and tried to think of another argument.

“You used to tease me all the time.” You muttered.

“I’ll admit that was dumb of me, but it felt like the only way to get your attention.” His lips found the tip of your nose, and you couldn’t contain a snicker. “You looked so cute when you were embarrassed, especially when you wrinkled your nose. I couldn’t help it.”

“Why do I feel like you still can’t help it?” You tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear and let your fingers follow the path of his facial hair. He was putty in your hands, cheek pressing to your hand.

“It’s part of my charm.” Claude flashed his usual smile, then took a step back. The lack of closeness left you feeling a little colder, but the distance let you appreciate him fully. Tall, handsome, commanding. You were exceedingly proud of him, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again. But before you could think to speak, he started again. “You don’t have to answer me right away. I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you the time you need. I’m leaving in two days. Meet me at the——”

You didn’t allow him to finish. Your heart was too full and on the verge of bursting, and it seemed silly to you that he didn’t know what your answer would be when he was so skilled at predicting you. Rather than let him wonder, you removed your hands from his and took his face between them. You gathered your courage, mustered with his help, and pulled him down for a soft but silencing kiss.

Claude wasn’t often rendered speechless, but he supposed he didn’t mind being put in his place if it meant your lips fitting against his as perfectly as they did. Unfortunately for him and the heat radiating throughout him, you didn’t let the kiss last long. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and crush you against his chest like he’d long to for years, but you parted from him too soon for his liking.

“Where are you going?” He took chase, but you placed your hand over his mouth. Claude stilled and arched a brow.

“I’ve had my answer for years, Claude. I’m with you in every possible way. But if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?” You uncovered his mouth, but his silence told you more than words would. “How long have you, uh. . .”

“Cared for you? Admired you? Wanted to kiss you the way you just kissed me?” Every question he posed in response to yours made your heart thud and your cheeks burn. “A long, long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was never given the chance.” He answered so surely that you wondered if he had those words prepared. You couldn’t pester him about it — too many things had gone horribly wrong during your time at the academy, and it didn’t make sense to plant seeds in dead soil. There would have been no guarantee that it would bloom and flourish, but with the land starting a slow recovery, you hoped that what you two started here would become lusher and more far-reaching than any forest in Fódlan.

“It’s alright.” You giggled giddily and granted him another kiss, this one to the corner of his lips. “We were given our chance, and you took it.”

“Does that mean you’re going home with me?” He asked.

“I told you——”

“I want to hear you say the words.” Claude softly pleaded. Weak for his doe eyes, you melted in his arms and relented.

“I’m going home with you, Claude. I want to meet your parents, and I want to get to know your people. And for as long as I’m there, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to get to know you better.”

A soft sigh tinged with relief escaped the man as his head came to rest on your shoulder. His grasp on you tightened, and you felt his heart beat against your chest.

“Thank you.”

You smiled and embraced him. “Don’t thank me. Just take me home. . .”

#claude von riegan x reader #fire emblem reader #fire emblem three houses #fe3h

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Words: 6,247 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: language, some fighting, that's it! A/N: Jealous!Daryl Dixon? YES PLEASE. Summary: Daryl finds himself in a bad mood when Y/N is asked to attend a community event by a local man.

Your name: submit What is this?

“What the hell are you two gigglin’ about over here?” Daryl asked, emerging from his space down in the basement. Maggie and Rosita spun immediately and they seemed to clam up a bit, exchanging a look with one another which only furthered the archer’s curiosity. “What?”

“Nothin’,” Maggie said.

“Uh huh, that’s real believable,” he mumbled. “Ya’ll goin’ to this bonfire tonight?” he asked.

“There’s supposed to be booze and food, so I’m in,” Rosita laughed. Maggie nodded.

“Glenn and I are planning to go for a little while. Rick still wants us all to try. Even though it does feel a little silly considering what’s goin’ on outside.”

Daryl scoffed. “Silly is right. Feels like we’re playin’ pretend while the world is on fire,” he said, withdrawing a cigarette and fishing into his pocket for his lighter.

“You’re clean,” Maggie commented. “You look nice,” she said.

Daryl simply avoided her eyes and changed the subject. “Who else is goin’?” he drawled.

Maggie and Rosita exchanged another look.

“What?” Daryl prodded again, increasingly annoyed.

Rosita cleared her throat and sank down on a stool at the kitchen island. “I think pretty much all of us. Carol, Abraham…” She left a long pause until Maggie nudged her with her elbow and gave her a pointed look. “Oh, yeah. Right. Y/N is going. Apparently, someone from here asked her to go with him.” The two women carefully watched Daryl’s expression.

“Mmm,” he hummed, averting his eyes as he felt his stomach twist. Maggie thought she saw the muscle in his jaw tense as he clenched his teeth.

“That’s it? ‘Mmm’?” Rosita said, a small smirk on her face.

Daryl glared at her. “The hell am I supposed to say?” he growled, feeling a hot swelling of jealousy rise up in his chest. He breezed past her to the front door and was reaching for the knob when you were suddenly there at the bottom of the stairs, almost bumping into him.

“Oh! Sorry,” you said with a nervous laugh. You felt your face grow warm with a bit of a blush. You were rushing to ask Maggie and Rosita what the hell you should wear to the bonfire for your—date? Was it a date? You didn’t know what to call it. In any case, you hadn’t expected to quite literally almost run into Daryl.

He had to try really hard not to blatantly look you up and down. You looked stunning, freshly showered and dressed in your own sensible style, standing there looking a bit nervous. “S’alright,” he said, backing up toward the front door to get out of your way.

You noticed that he was in clean clothes and his brown hair was clean and shiny. He’d obviously showered and tidied up. You gave him a small and somewhat bashful smile and breezed past him into the kitchen. Daryl quickly let himself out onto the porch and sank down on the top step, flicking his lighter and fiddling with the cigarette in his fingers, but not lighting it. Inside, he could hear Maggie and Rosita’s jovial voices and loud laughter.

You all had hardly been in Alexandria a month and some guy already had the balls to ask ya out? Daryl felt another swell of jealousy and suspicion. He really wanted to know who the hell this guy was…

“You look amazing,” Maggie said with a wide grin, taking in your outfit and smooth and shiny hair. “Really. It’s perfect.”

“His jaw is going to hit the floor,” Rosita said. You gave her a skeptical look.

“You’re really making way too big a deal out of this. It’s just a bonfire,” you said, glancing down at your clothes. “It’s nothing. I don’t even know if it’s fair to call it a date,” you said. “I don’t know if I even want to call it that.”

“Why not?” Maggie asked. “He seems plenty nice.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, he seems to be... It’s just… he’s a complete stranger practically. And it’s just been us for so long.”

Rosita laughed. “No one is telling you to marry him. Just go and have a good time… and if it feels right,” she gave you a suggestive look and laughed when your jaw dropped open.

“Stop!” you scolded her, eliciting loud laughter and an appreciative grin from Maggie.

Rosita grinned. “What?! I’m just saying! Like you said, it’s been just us, just you for so long!” You rolled your eyes and sighed at her. “You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“That’s why you love me,” she said. “Now go and finish getting ready. He’ll be here to pick you up in like a half an hour.”

“Wear that black jacket you have!” Maggie shouted after you as you headed back toward the stairs.

“Okay!” you called over your shoulder. You caught sight of Daryl’s broad shoulders as you passed the front window and you felt a sort of empty, sinking feeling in the middle of your chest, right between your lungs. Sometimes you’d wondered if there was some spark with the stoic archer. You were definitely attracted to him, but he’d never made any explicit sign that maybe he was interested in you. At least, none that you had noticed or admitted to yourself… You were quite adept at denial. But what you couldn’t deny was the leap your heart did every time your name left his lips with that easy southern drawl and how the air always seemed to be charged and crackling with electricity when you found yourself alone with him. You sighed and climbed the stairs. Oh, well. Rosita was right. You’d just go to the bonfire and try to have a good time, see how it felt.

Daryl was still outside on the porch, finally smoking his last cigarette when he saw a figure coming down the street. He was tall, with neatly trimmed brown hair, and had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He noticed Daryl as he came up the front walk and gave him a tight smile.

“Hey,” the guy said. “You must be Daryl, right?” he said, holding out his hand.

But Daryl just eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t think we’ve ever met,” he said, putting the butt of his cigarette out underneath his boot. The guy finally let his proffered hand drop a little awkwardly.

“No, we haven’t, but I’ve heard about you. From Y/N and Aaron. You’re going out to find people with him, right?”

Daryl’s blue eyes were still narrowed, trying to get a read on this guy and he simply nudged his nose up once in a nod and hummed a noise of acknowledgement.

“Right. That’s—that’s great. I hope you can find some more people out there who need help.”

Daryl didn’t respond and just let the silence stretch longer than it was comfortable.

The guy cleared his throat and awkwardly rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, um—I’m here to see Y/N. Is she inside?” he asked, jutting a thumb in the direction of the front door.

Daryl straightened up and walked over to it before pushing inside and leaving it standing wide open behind him. He headed straight for his space in the basement without another word, but he heard the guy let out a hesitant “Y/N?” from the entryway as he descended the stairs.

He couldn’t stand the thought of watching you come down and leave with this guy, seeing the bright smile that would probably light up your face like it always did. He sulked for a while, sitting on the edge of his bed before finally deciding that you had probably both left by now. The archer climbed the stairs again and met Glenn in the hallway, heading toward the front door.

“Hey,” Glenn greeted him cheerfully. “You heading to this thing?”

“Guess so,” Daryl said, his expression a little uncertain.

“Maggie and the others already went ahead. I’m heading over there now. You coming?”

“Mm,” he hummed, nodding and chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “Alright.”

As he and Glenn headed toward the center of town, Daryl could already hear loud conversation and laughter and he wondered why the hell he was even going to this thing at all… But your face popped up in his mind and he knew he wanted to make sure that you’d be alright, make sure this guy wasn’t up to no good… Not that you needed his help. You were plenty capable on your own but… just in case, he told himself.

“Come on. Let’s grab a drink and then find everybody,” Glenn said. Daryl followed him through the crowd of people milling around. The noise was overwhelming and immediately Daryl wished he was almost anywhere but there. Glenn pushed a beer into his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “This is weird, right?” he said, glancing around.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed. “Feel like I’m in a goddamn Hallmark movie or some shit.”

Glenn let out a sardonic laugh and nodded. “Yeah… Oh, hey. There they are.” He tilted his head toward the edge of the circle of illumination from the fire and lanterns. Daryl followed him in silence, edging past people he felt were all glancing at him like he was some kind of criminal. He could have been imagining it, but then again, maybe he wasn’t.

He stood quietly with Glenn, Maggie, and Abraham as they talked. Each of them just sipped their drinks. Occasionally, silences would fall that were heavy with unspoken thoughts and memories that contrasted so sharply with the scene they now found themselves in that it was unbalancing.

Eventually Daryl broke off using the excuse of getting another drink and he let his eyes scan the crowd for you. He finally spotted you sitting across from the guy who had picked you up at a picnic table, a plastic cup in your hand. He was talking to you animatedly and you were nodding along, occasionally responding with a smile or a few words. Daryl thought you looked… bored? Or was that just wishful thinking?

He was kicking himself at that moment, realizing just exactly how much he really cared about you, and how he truly couldn’t stand the thought of you ending up with someone else. Especially, this guy. Looking at him Daryl had a feeling he wouldn’t know what the fuck to do if a walker or some living asshole came at him. It’s your own damn fault. He heard it in his own mind. If he wasn’t such a goddamn coward he would have told you by now that he thought you were the most amazing person he’d ever met.

His mood significantly darkened, Daryl made his way back over to the refreshment table and grabbed another beer. He came to stand at the edge of the circle of light again and lit up a cigarette, allowing himself to glance over at you occasionally, trying to read your expression.

“Hey.”

Daryl turned to see Abraham beside him suddenly. He followed Daryl’s gaze and spotted you sitting across from your “date”. “Here,” he said, nudging Daryl’s shoulder gently with a bottle of bourbon. “I’m sure you could use this,” he said.

Daryl gave him a questioning look and Abraham only nodded. “You really gonna argue this point? Come on,” he said, shaking the bottle again. “I know love sickness when I see it.” The strong military man sighed. “I’ve seen it on myself in the mirror.”

“I ain’t—”

“Call it whatever you want, but stop lying to me about it. And to yourself,” he said.

Daryl gave him an uncomfortable look but accepted the bottle of liquor and drank deeply from it before passing it back.

“Yeah,” Abraham said, taking another pull himself. “Life’s shitty sometimes. But it’s shittier if you sit on your ass.”

The two men stood side by side, passing the bottle for quite some time and it wasn’t long before they were both pretty drunk.

“Man, fuck this,” Daryl drawled, tossing his cigarette down and putting it out with his boot. If you hadn’t been sitting with a stranger, the archer would have surely left by now. But he couldn’t bear the thought of laying on his bed back at the house and wondering if you were still with him, if you were home yet. What if you went home with that guy? Daryl’s stomach twisted again with jealousy. “I’m gonna go get another beer. Ya want one?” he asked Abraham, who shook his head. He was even more drunk than Daryl and mumbled something before wandering away back toward Rosita and the others.

Daryl wove his way through the crowd, his eyes ahead on the table of refreshments. He grabbed another beer and popped the top when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he saw Deanna’s son Aiden and a few of his cronies eyeing him. Aiden said something to Nicholas that made them all burst out into laughter, and Daryl had the distinctive feeling that it was something derogatory about him. He felt like his blood was about to boil.

The archer strode over to them, already knowing this was a bad idea, but at the moment, with the toxic mixture of jealousy and bourbon coursing through his bloodstream, he wanted to pick a fight. “The hell ya staring at?” he demanded, getting right up in Aiden’s face.

A little smug smirk grew on Aiden’s face. “Nothing,” he said. “No, literally nothing. I mean, you’re nothing. Why don’t you get the hell out of here and head back to whatever trailer park you crawled out of? Nobody wants you here.” This was born of booze and arrogance too.

Back at the picnic table, you laughed politely at some little remark and spun your drink in your hands a little anxiously, glancing down into the amber liquid inside the red plastic cup and feeling distinctly out of place. It had been a long time since you’d been on anything even resembling a date but… was this how it was supposed to feel? You didn’t feel at ease at all. And you weren’t even really enjoying yourself. You were—there was no other word for it—bored.

You suddenly realized he had just asked you a question and you glanced back up. “Sorry? Say that again?”

“Oh, just… your group. You were out there since the beginning pretty much?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm. Most of us found each other not too long after everything really went to shit.”

“Wow. I can’t imagine. I was pretty much in here since it happened.” There was a thoughtful pause before he went on. “What was it like out there? I mean, what was it really like? Those of us on the inside hear a little bit from Aiden and those guys who do the supply runs, but you can never really tell how much is true and how much he’s embellishing.”

You stared at him for a long moment. He seemed completely clueless that he was asking you to dive into a topic that was wrought with a lot of trauma, not something you even talked about with most of the people in your group. You gulped and avoided his eyes. “It’s, um… hard to talk about. We—we lost people out there.”

He seemed to realize based on your response that he had dug too deep too fast, realized his mistake, and was immediately apologetic. “Oh, God. What was I thinking? I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have asked you that. I—”

But a commotion suddenly drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Daryl wind a fist back and punch Aiden squarely in the face. He dropped like a lead weight and you jumped to your feet, your jaw dropped open. “Shit… I—I’m sorry. Excuse me—sorry,” you said hurriedly. You left him behind and immediately rushed straight over into the fray.

Aiden was on the ground with blood pouring out of his nose and three of his friends were immediately on Daryl, who was trying to shake them off. You were there in an instant.

“Get off him!” you yelled, pushing Nicholas off the archer. “Everybody just stop!” you yelled over the commotion.

Daryl was still raging, trying to get back to Aiden and grappling with the two other men holding him back. “Ya better keep looking over your shoulder, ya fuckin’ asshole!” he roared.

You could easily hear the drunken slur in his voice and smell the whiskey on him. The other men had obviously been drinking heavily too. Now Rick and Glenn were rushing over, trying to squeeze their way through the crowd. “Daryl! DARYL! Stop!” you moved in front of him and pressed your hands to his chest. “Daryl!” For the first time he realized you were there and he froze immediately, suddenly overwhelmed with worry that you’d get hurt in the chaos if he kept fighting. He stilled and you pulled your hands off his broad chest, trying your hardest to ignore the heat you suddenly felt in your face. You watched his chest heaving with exertion and caught his blue eyes. “Just stop,” you said, more gently this time. You turned to look at the men still hanging onto him and glared at them. “Let him go.” Neither of them moved. “I said fuck off!” you yelled, pushing one of them off Daryl. The other one released Daryl’s other arm and turned to help Aiden to his feet.

“What the hell is going on?” Rick asked in an angry undertone. “Daryl,” he growled, giving him a sharp look.

“S’nothin’. Forget it. Just a buncha assholes,” Daryl drawled. “M’outta here.”

Glenn sighed heavily, clearly realizing how drunk Daryl was. “I’ll walk back with him,” he said to Rick in an undertone. Rick stalked off, rubbing a hand over his face and shaking his head.

“I’ve got it,” you said to Glenn. “Just—stay with Maggie and try to enjoy yourselves, okay?”

Glenn glanced cautiously at Daryl who was still staring daggers after Aiden and his crew as they walked away. “Are you sure? Aren’t you supposed to be out with somebody?” Glenn asked you, quiet enough so Daryl wouldn’t hear him.

“Yeah, but—” you shrugged. “I’ve got him,” you insisted.

Glenn hesitated but finally nodded and headed back over to Maggie.

You touched Daryl lightly on the arm. “Hey. Come on. Let’s go home, alright? Those guys are dicks. It’s not worth it.”

Daryl glanced down at the spot where your fingers had rested on his arm a moment before. He’d felt a zap of electricity when you touched him. His eyes drifted up to your face and although they were a little bleary you thought you saw a softness in them that was startling considering the anger that had been there a moment before. Finally, he nodded.

“Good. Okay. Umm… Just wait for me over there a sec, okay? I’ll be right there,” you said.

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl asked, his brow drawing down low over his blue eyes.

“I just need to get my jacket. It’ll only take a sec.”

Daryl glanced back over at the guy you’d been sitting with, who was now standing next to the picnic table, his eyes fixed in your direction. “Alright,” he said.

You nodded and watched Daryl walk off, a little unsteadily. You made your way back over toward the picnic table and gave your date a tight smile. “Sorry. I’ve gotta go,” you said apologetically, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna make sure Daryl gets home alright and see if he’s okay. He’s pretty drunk...”

He looked disappointed. “Oh. Okay. That’s too bad… but I understand.” He glanced over at Daryl, who was now waiting impatiently just a short distance away. “I can’t blame him for hitting Aiden.”

You let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes. “Yeah… Let’s hope that’s the end of it. Honestly, Aiden is lucky Daryl’s drunk. Would have been much worse if he wasn’t,” you said. “Anyway, umm, I’ll see you around,” you said a bit awkwardly. You bent to grab your jacket from the bench and when you straightened up, he was standing quite close to you.

“This was really nice,” he said. “I hope we can see each other again.”

You were trying to formulate a gentle rejection in your mind, gathering the words to say something like “It’s not you. It’s me.” when suddenly his hand landed on your waist and the other pressed onto your lower back. You realized he was going to try to kiss you. You opened your mouth to speak and started to pull away, but before you could get any words out Daryl was suddenly there and pushed him off you forcefully.

“The hell are ya doin’?! Can’t ya tell she didn’t want that?” he roared. “The fuck is wrong with you?!”

You felt your face burning with heat. “Daryl!” you yelled at him, snapping his eyes back to your face. The archer watched your jaw clench angrily. “We’re leaving. Now.” You cast a brief glance at your date but were too embarrassed to hold his eyes for very long. “I’m—sorry,” you mumbled. You turned on your heel and got the hell out of there as fast as you could. You could sense that Daryl was right behind you.

You pulled on your jacket as you reached the sidewalk and turned to look at Daryl. His blue eyes were already on you as you turned around. “What the hell is the matter with you?” you snapped at him. “What the fuck was that?”

He stopped abruptly and stared at you, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Did I read the situation wrong? Ya wanted to kiss that guy?” he growled.

You scoffed. “No, but I didn’t need you to burst in there and shove him off me! I can handle myself! First, you’re hammered, then you pick that fight with Aiden and those guys, and then this? What is the matter with you tonight?!” You stared at him, bewildered.

He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip and let out a huff before striding past you on the sidewalk. “Nothin’,” he growled.

You let out a noise of frustration and rushed after him, falling in beside him and racing to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry I ruined your night,” he said. There was a sharp flintiness in his voice. Daryl’s stomach twisted again with jealousy. “Ya can go back. I dun need a babysitter.”

He’d hardly finished saying it when he stumbled a bit on a slightly uneven part of the sidewalk and you reflexively grabbed onto him to steady him. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You sure about that?”

Daryl gulped at the sensation of your hands on him and ducked his head. He slowed his pace a little and you walked side by side again. It was silent for a short time and the air between the two of you was tense.

“So… do you want to tell me why you decided you needed to get shitfaced and pick a fight?” you asked him, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed a noise of acknowledgement. “Who says I started it anyway?”

“You are the one who punched Aiden in the face,” you pointed out, giving him a look.

“He was askin’ for it.”

You nodded and sighed. “I don’t actually doubt that. But it’s not like you to drink this much. What’s going on?”

He ignored the question. You’d now arrived back at the house and Daryl started up the steps cautiously, feeling that his balance was not so great. He’d made it two steps up when he started to pitch backwards and you rushed to grab onto him again. “Whoa, whoa!” Your hands flew around him and landed on his sides. He steadied but you still didn’t release your gentle hold on him. You were standing a step higher than he was and it put your eyes almost right in line with his. You could feel the tension in his muscles beneath your fingers and the thin cotton of his shirt. You felt like you were suddenly paralyzed, yours eyes connected. Daryl watched your lips part slightly, and he felt like he was being drawn in. You gulped, feeling suddenly nervous and overwhelmed at the tingling and warmth that was suddenly radiating through you.

Finally, you blinked a few times, your eyelashes fluttering as you came to your senses, almost as if out of a daze. You tried your best to ignore the butterflies that you now felt in your stomach. You moved beside him and wrapped an arm around his back. “Okay. Easy. I’d rather not have to take you to Denise for a broken bone,” you said softly. It seemed like your anger with him had suddenly evaporated.

Daryl was still staring at you beside him and the sensation of your hands intimately on his sides a moment before, even if it just had been to steady him, had him reeling. Even your arm around him was sending sparks up his spine.

He allowed you to lead him into the house. You broke from him to fill a glass of water up in the kitchen and Daryl watched you with an urgent desire growing in his chest. His thoughts were interrupted as you nudged your head in the direction of the living room.

“Come on,” you said quietly. Daryl trailed behind you and sank down heavily on the couch. You set the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of him before grabbing a seat in the oversized arm chair nearby.

Daryl was leaned forward staring down at his hands, elbows on his knees, fighting an internal battle between wanting to tell you everything that had been on his mind since that guy showed up at the house to pick you up and knowing that he was was drunk and that perhaps now wasn’t the time… Finally, he resolved to keep his mouth shut and simply downed the glass of water before flopping back and stretching out on the couch. The ceiling wavered before his eyes and he planted a boot on the floor to ground himself and try to offset the nauseating spinning feeling.

You leaned your chin on your elbow and sighed, staring at him as he laid on the couch and wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He’d been silent for a while and based on the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest you could tell he was asleep.

You got up and quietly tiptoed over to, unlacing and pulling off his boots as gently as you could. Not gently enough, however, for the always vigilant archer. Daryl shot upright on the couch and gave you a somewhat startled look. You were frozen, kneeling beside him, and he registered his boot in your hand. You gave him an apologetic glance before discarding it on the floor next to the other one. “Sorry. Go back to sleep,” you said, straightening up. Daryl’s eyes followed you as went and grabbed a blanket from a nearby basket. His eyes were still on you when you turned around and approached him again, hesitating at the queer expression on his face. “What is it? Are you okay?” you asked him.

Daryl nodded almost imperceptibly and flopped down again on his back.

You unfolded the blanket and were draping it over him when you felt his blue eyes still fixed on your face. You met them and gave him another questioning look, taken aback by the softness in them.

“Yer beautiful,” he drawled quietly.

You straightened up in surprise, your stomach flipping as you registered his words. You bashfully avoided his eyes and adjusted the blanket over him. “You’re drunk,” you murmured.

“Dun mean I’m lyin’.”

You gulped at the nervous tightness in your throat from his words and gave him a long look. Daryl’s eyes flickered between your lips and the endless hues in your eyes. “Get some sleep, Daryl,” you said gently, turning to sink into the armchair again and puzzling over the archer.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning, Daryl awoke with a nightmare of a headache. When he sat up on the couch, getting his bearings, he felt the blanket slip off him and remembered how you’d covered him over with it and pulled off his shoes. His heart jumped at the memory of your hands steadying him.

He glanced over and you were still asleep, curled up in the big stuffed chair. Daryl got up and grabbed the blanket, crossing the space as silently as he could and draping the blanket over you before heading for the front door.

He leaned his forearms on the railing, kicking himself for getting so drunk the night before. Not because of his hangover, however, but because you probably now thought he was an idiot.

He sighed heavily and chewed the side of his thumbnail, lost in his thoughts. After a while, he headed back inside and grabbed a quick shower before flopping down on his bed in the basement, fiddling with a bolt for his crossbow.

“Daryl?”

Your voice drifted down from the top of the stairs.

He sat up on the edge of his bed. “Ya?”

“Um. Can I come down?”

“Of course,” he hollered back at you. Your soft steps sounded on the stairs and soon you emerged through the doorway. You looked luminous, even in the dimness of his basement space. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said. “How are you feeling?” you asked kindly.

He let out a scoff. “Hungover. But that’s what I get for being a dumbass,” he drawled, still twirling the bolt between his fingers.

You gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re not a dumbass,” you said.

He gave you a long look. “Ya here to yell at me again?” he asked, one corner of his mouth twitched up so you could tell he was only half-serious.

“No,” you said, moving closer and standing directly in front of him.

He chewed on his bottom lip a little anxiously, feeling his heart beating faster with you standing so close now. In fact, he was exceedingly nervous with you there in his space. During late sleepless nights, ge’d imagined you there with him but he didn’t think you’d ever even really come downstairs. He hazarded another glance at you. “M’sorry I ruined yer night.”

You shook your head, your eyebrows drawing down low over your eyes. “You didn’t.”

He gave you a questioning look. “But ya had to leave cuz of me.”

You nodded and surprised him by coming to sit close next to him on the edge of his bed. “Yeah. But that’s okay. I wasn’t having a good time anyway.” You glanced around his space, feeling your heart flutter with nerves being alone with Daryl. It was quintessentially Daryl. His crossbow was leaning up against the nightstand and there were layers of richly colored blankets draped on his bed. Little bits of collected treasures were set on a shelf nearby—deer antlers, brightly colored leaves, glistening fragments of mica. Being in his space down there, tucked away from the rest of the house, felt strangely intimate.

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed in acknowledgement. He gathered every bit of courage he could muster. “Ya asked me why I drank so much.”

You caught his blue eyes again and nodded as your heart skipped a beat.

“I was—I was jealous…” He nervously licked his lips and stared down at his hands, afraid that he’d see rejection in your eyes. “Soon as that guy came to pick you up I was just—pissed off. And I ain’t got no right to be. I’ve wasted so much time instead of just tellin’ ya—”

You were holding your breath now. “Tell me what?” you said, not intending for it to come out in a whisper, but it did.

Daryl gulped and continued. “Tellin’ ya that—” He forced his eyes to yours and drank in the inquisitive and somewhat puzzled expression on your face. “—I think you’re the most amazin’ person I’ve ever met. And I don’t want ya to be with anyone but me.” He braced himself for your reaction, feeling suddenly sick and anticipating a gentle rejection.

But when he looked up again your eyes were just a little wide with surprise.

“Well, Christ, Y/N,” he drawled, held in suspense. “Just at least say somethin’.”

“I—I’m sorry. I’m just—Daryl,” you said. There was happy laughter in your voice and you broke into a brilliant smile that sent his heart skipping a beat again. “You never—I mean, I didn’t think you were interested in me like that.”

Daryl was cautiously optimistic based on your reaction and he ducked his head. “Yeah, well I… I ain’t good enough for ya. And I didn’t know how to—” He shook some hair out of his eyes and glanced back over at you. “Anybody would be an idiot not to want ya and it wasn’t until that guy yesterday showed up that I realized that means eventually somebody else might—” He broke off as you suddenly climbed to your feet and moved around in front of him.

His knees were angled wide enough apart that you were able to step in close to him. Daryl studied the somewhat pained but soft expression on your face and a blaze of warmth grew in his chest as you brushed his hair away from his face and clasped it gently. “Not good enough for me?” You shook your head. “Daryl. You’re the best man I’ve ever known. And I’ve been crazy about you almost since day 1. I just didn’t think you wanted—”

His arm looped around you, his hand flattening out on your lower back and drawing you in closer. His other hand went lightly to your face, his fingers tangling into your hair. He hesitated only one more moment, his eyes flitting between yours and then down to the soft pout of your lips, before he pulled you the rest of the way into him and kissed you hungrily.

You hummed a noise of pleasure into his lips and looped your arms around his neck, arching against his strong chest, kissing him back feverishly, hardly believing this was happening. Daryl could feel you smiling into the kiss and after several long moments of heated bliss it softened and you pulled back, but just slightly. Daryl watched as your eyes flitted open again. There was a rosy glow in the apples of your cheeks and a soft smile on your face. The light in your eyes was staggering. You pressed a hand flat against his chest and felt the urgent racing of his heart.

“You never said anything,” you whispered.

He shrugged, not releasing his arms from around you. He didn’t know if he ever would. “Ya didn’t either,” he pointed out. His hands smoothed down your sides and landed lightly on your hips. He focused on the feeling of you beneath his fingers.

Your smile grew wider as you looked into his strikingly blue eyes. You gently clasped his face again and ran your fingers over the stubble on his jaw. “Still feel hungover?” you asked.

“Umm,” he chewed his bottom lip and shook his head, not taking his eyes off yours. “Nah. Not at all anymore.”

“Good.” You crashed your lips into his again, relishing the feeling of his hands smoothing over your back and lightly gripping your hips. Daryl pulled you tightly against him, like even though you were already pressed together it wasn’t close enough. Your lips moved effortlessly with his and the gentle trailing of his fingertips down your spine sent electricity running over your skin.

He clasped your face in both hands and his kisses softened again until you finally broke apart, staring right into those blue eyes you loved so much.

“You know I don’t want you to think that getting drunk and punching people magically gets you what you want,” you breathed, a sparkle of teasing in your eyes. “Don’t make a habit out of it.”

“What else could I possibly want?” he drawled.

You grinned at him, giving him that megawatt smile, before leaning into him and kissing him again.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #jealous!daryl

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petesvodka · 4 years ago

Text

terrifying in the best way possible

request from the lovely @lostaurorax - hellooo!! i just found ur account and i love it already haha! i was wondering if i could request a fic with pete x reader where pete and reader have been really good friends for awhile maybe readers an actress and they met on snl? and reader and pete are just sitting down and smoking weed in pete’s house and reader has been struggling with her mental health lately so she’s been staying with pete and she just admires pete and tells him how much she loves and appreciates him and all he does for her?? omg so sorry that it’s super long but i had a dream with the same concept kinda so that’s where i got the idea from!! thank you <3

summary - you decide it’s finally time pete knows what he means to you

word count - 1k

warnings - jus’ some good ol’ cussin

authors note - imma be real, its 3:30 am rn and i have not proof read this, so forgive me if there are any mistakes (but also, this is such a cute concept, i couldn’t help but write it asap)

A couple of nights ago you made yourself a promise. As you knocked on his door, small suitcase by your side, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't say anything you'd regret.

Now, sat beside Pete with a joint between your fingers, you're pretty sure you're about to break that promise.

"...Pete?" You say before taking another hit, keeping your gaze locked on the tv before you.

"Hmm?" He softly hums, looking over to you. You can feel him studying your face.

A steady stream of smoke comes from your nose as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. Maybe now isn't the time to do this...

Your eyes meet his before you speak again.

"I wanted to thank you." You begin, and Pete smiles with a frown, head tilting slightly to the side.

"You know you don't have t-"

"I know, but I want to." You say, and you realize that isn't exactly true. "Well... I need to, actually."

You flick the ash from your joint into the ashtray on the coffee table before you before leaning back on the couch. You have so much you want to thank him for and absolutely no idea how to go about doing so.

But that's okay. Pete's patient. He'll wait quietly until the words come to you.

"I just..." You can't tell if the weed is helping the words come to you or not, but you know you've got a lot you want to say. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you will yourself to keep the emotions in your brain from consuming you whole.

"I haven't really been... the best lately." You open your eyes and look at Pete, who still has yet to take his eyes off of you. He looks genuinely pained as he waits for you to continue.

"But just being around you," Your lips curl to a smile, which seems to put Pete somewhat at ease. "It helps. You help... And I think it's really important you know how thankful I am I get to have you in my life." You stop, pausing to look down at the joint in your hand. You watch the stream of smoke trailing from its tip.

In all the time you've known Pete, never before have you blatantly told him how much he means to you. It just wasn't ever a conversation you thought you needed to have. But, having spent the last few days with him, you think he deserves to know you appreciate him and all the good he brings into your world.

"Pete, I just- I need you to know that." You look at him. It's your turn to study his face now. He looked simply bewildered-lips slightly parted, faint frown pulling his brows-and you wonder for a second if you should've stuck to your promise.

But before you can apologize, his lips part further into a smile. A bright, soul-warming smile that tells you all you need to know.

"You know, if anyone else had said to me what you just said, I'd call bullshit so fuckin' fast," Pete says, smirking as he takes the joint you'd been holding. He takes a slow drawl as you watch him, "But since you're the one who said it..." He exhales, smirk morphing into a soft smile with an even softer gaze. "It means a lot to me."

His gaze falls to the joint held delicately between his fingers. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. And..." He pauses, "I mean, I love being around you. You're good for me." He looks at you now and smiles before again hitting the joint. "I just hope I'm good enough for you."

"You're one of the best people I know!" You say, partially defensive. Pete chuckles, taking another hit of the joint. Ever since you've known him, you've always hated when he talks negatively about himself.

He hands the joint back to you. A comfortable silence blanketed the two of you, settling calmly like the haze of smoke that envelope you both.

You felt better now that he knew a bit of how you thought of him. You hoped it'd stick with him too, because he truly was one of the best people you knew. There just wasn't anyone like him.

You hit the joint, breathing in deeply. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you." You say, smoke lacing your words as you breathed out.

Pete chuckles lightly, smiling as he shakes his head "You're really high," He says, his gaze going to the tv.

You roll your eyes with a smile. "Yeah, but I'm also serious. Like Pete, you are so fucking amazing. I love who you are and what you do and just..."

You look down, biting the inside of your cheek. When you look up, Pete's staring at you, trying to decipher what exactly it is you're telling him. "I wanna be more like you. You've lived through so much and you're easily one of the strongest people I know, but you're still so genuine and kind."

"Well, I wanna be like you." He says, taking you so off guard you frown. "I could go on until the Sun goes down about how much I admire you." You shake your head a bit, still frowning. "Seriously, Y/N. You're so honest about what you feel and who you are, it's fuckin' terrifying in the best way possible."

"Terrifying?" You repeat, head tilted.

"Yeah, terrifying." He smiles. "Terrifying because you fuckin' mean the shit you say, or you wouldn't say it."

"Does that mean you believe me when I say you're one of the most amazing people I know?" You ask, nudging his shoulder with yours, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Pete rolls his eyes before chuckling. "I wouldn't go that far..."

Your smirk softens to a small smile and you sigh, comfortably resting your head on his shoulder as your gaze returns to the tv. He takes the joint from you, hitting it before breathing in slowly and deeply.

Your head rises as his shoulders rise, and for the first time in a while, you feel good. Sure, the weed probably has you feeling a little better, but it's Pete who really makes you feel less terrible.

He's a hug in a turbulent storm, and you hope beyond hope to forever stay in his arms because that's where you know you're safest.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #mars writes #concept writing #concept

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citydreamgrls · 4 years ago

Text

yule ball

george weasley x fem!reader

words: 3,629

a/n: the growing love I’m getting on all my weasley fanfics is amazing, I cannot thank everyone enough so here’s a yule ball one shot instead hope u enjoy !! :))

warnings: mentions of alcohol (?)

George had decided he wanted to go to the yule ball with her the second they announced it, unable to miss the excitement light up in her eyes as the girls around her squealed.

With the fear that someone else could beat him to it, he raced to catch her, Fred mumbling something about how they had a class with her first thing as he left. But he just ignored him, weaving through hoards of people filing out of the great hall.

“Woah steady,” Y/n had laughed, seeing the redhead running towards her in the hallway like a madman. “Who’s died?”

“You wanna go to the ball with me?” He asked, eyes wide and waiting, but still she giggled at him and nodded.

She had presumed he’d asked her because it was an easy choice, they were all friends for a long time, so it would make sense for him that she’d say yes. On the other hand, there was a part of her that was excited to be his date to the ball. As much as she loved Fred equally, something about his brother’s gaze made her heart warm just a little and the idea of spending more time alone with him made her blush to herself.

“He has to have a thing for you,” Angelina pressed, having thought the same thing for years on end. This was just adding fuel to her argument. The twins were messing about across the classroom, unbothered by the dark haired teacher sending them daggers.

“We’re going as friends,” Y/n laughed, trying to finish her potion before Snape came round to check them. Her friend was no help as usual, just flicking through the textbook and gossiping about her day.

“Did he say that?” She asked. “Well, no bu-” “No buts, it’s a date y/n.” “Stop it. He sees me as a friend, that’s all.” She scoffed, finally completing the task and sighing with relief as Snape got nearer.

Deep down she hoped Angelina was right, that her talk of his glances and lingering smiles when they were together was true. Y/n wanted more than anything to not make a fool of herself though, which had held back her feelings all these years in fear of rejection.

That evening she sat with the twins at dinner, as she had done since the first night she arrived at Hogwarts. Fred was doing his best to turn his water into wine, with no luck and George was grilling her about the ball as she tried to eat.

“No I haven’t picked a dress George, I only found out today.” She scoffed, slapping Fred’s hand away from her plate as he tried to steal another roll. “Stop it,”

“Well I just heard some of Ginny’s friends talking about it,”

“They’re probably just over-excited,”

“Aren’t you?” “I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not my wedding day. I have more time to plan.” George nearly choked on his food at the mention of weddings, hoping his half-wit brother hadn’t mentioned anything. But Fred was too busy eating to care about their conversation, so it’s possible he had actually managed to keep his mouth shut this time.

As the week passed slowly, most people flew into the frenzy of finding a date for the ball, or picking out a dress last minute. But y/n was grateful that she had organized it all earlier on, as Angelina’s constant need for an opinion was becoming more and more distracting.

“What about this one?” She pushed the magazine into the sleeping girl’s face.

“I’m not awake,” Y/n grumbled.

“You are now, so look!”

“It’s very nice.”

Angelina groaned and fell back onto her own bed.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“They’re all very good choices, you’ll look great regardless. And I'm sure Fred will think the same.” It was nice to not be on the receiving end of the teasing as Angelina had been asked to the ball by the remaining twin, it gave y/n all the ammunition to joke around with her friend.

“Yeah but your dress is gorgeous, everyone will be looking at you.” She huffed, making the other girl snort herself awake with amusement.

“My dress is black, that’s it.”

“Yeah well it looks really good on you, and I’m sure George would think the same.” The girl groaned, knowing better than to let her guards down with her best friend around.

“Go to bed already!”

“I need to choose one y/n,”

Y/n got up out of bed, grabbing a blanket and heading for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping in the common room,” She glared and huffed off, her friend still calling after her.

“But the dress!” It called for a big eye roll as she reached the bottom of the stairs, spotting one of the twins with her back to her near the fire. He turned round after hearing Angelina’s voice booming.

George laughed at the sight of her wrapped in a blanket, a scowl plastered on her face.

“Can’t sleep?” He teased.

“Don’t. I’m very sensitive.”

“Oh don’t I know it, remember when Fred and I tried to prank you with that faulty alarm clock.”

“I almost cut both your heads off.” She laughed, only now able to see the funny side of it, and sat beside the boy as he finished writing a letter.

“Good thing you didn’t, or else you’d have no date for the ball.” He smiled at her like he always had done, but paired with those words it felt so much more different.

She couldn’t hide her own smile if she wanted to, turning away a bit as she did.

“Angelina won’t shut up about it.” Y/n pulled the blanket over herself as George let her lay down on him, staring into the fire as it burned brightly.

“I’m sure she’s just over-excited.” He teased her.

“I got my dress by the way, so you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“What’s it like?”

“You’ll find out at the ball nosey.” He nudged her shoulder, making her laugh ever so slightly. It made his heart swell, he loved being the one to make her smile.

They stayed like that as y/n began to drift off, George not wanting to move her, so he just stroked her hair lightly and let the fire burn out into the night.

When they woke up, it was morning and neither of them had moved from the common room sofa. Fred was shaking his brother awake with a yawn.

“Get her up, it’s late.” He grumbled and the boy just nodded, shaking y/n until she rose quietly.

A few days later, when y/n was coming back from the bathrooms with her hair freshly washed but still wet, she heard the true commotion of the Gryffindor girls preparing for the ball the next day. It was a flurry of face masks, nail varnish and teeth whitening strips.

“It came!!” Angelina screamed in joy, bursting into the dorm with a package almost as big as her. She had been worrying about whether or not her dress would arrive before the ball, after spending days trying to decide which one was perfect, but it had done so just in time.

She had barely had a chance to hang out with the twins lately, being too busy studying for her classes and helping Angelina sort out everything. Not having time to sit down for a meal when her homework had begun to pile up, so she sacrificed that time to make sure all her essays were completed in time.

Angelina had gathered a whole group of girls into their dorm to hang out, so y/n excused herself to the common room to paint her nails, not wanting to gas them all out with the fumes. To her relief it was empty, giving her some time to relax. It had struck her how nervous she actually felt about the ball now that it was close, she worried whether she could go the whole night with George before her feelings got the best of her.

She sighed and pulled a foot up to the sofa, reaching down to gently swipe the colour across her nails. The heat of the ever-burning fire helped to dry them off after each coat.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice from behind her teased.

Y/n turned around, smiling when she saw Fred and George coming from the hallways.

“There’s a slumber party going on up there, I’m staying well away!” She sighed, going back to her nails.

The boys took a seat nearby, still in their uniform. She squinted at them both for a second, only George cracking a small smile as she observed them.

“What have you been up to?” The girl accused.

“Nothing at all,” Fred blatantly lied.

“Tell me now.”

“We set off stink bombs in the Ravenclaw bathrooms,” George scoffed, unable to keep their classic prank a secret.

“You’re weak.” Fred complained, slumping further into the armchair.

“You two are like kids”

They stayed with her for a while, Fred quickly getting bored and going off to get changed. But George was a little longer, not wanting her to be on her own all night. He stayed silent as not to distract her, instead he just watched her concentrate. Maybe he had seen it the other night, maybe it had slipped his mind then, but he realised how much he appreciated her face.

How it lit up so much when she was happy, how it glowed in the sunlight. George also adored her without makeup on, not that he’d ever tell his brother that, but she was truly a natural beauty at its best. Wet hair, pyjamas and no makeup on. Yet he was suddenly realising how incredibly lucky he was that she even agreed to go to the ball with him.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, not looking up but now noticing his silence. Something he never did.

“Uh yeah fine,” He laughed it off. “I’m going up to bed.” She looked up, surprised but still sporting a smile as he stood up.

“Sleep well.” He nodded in response and fixed his hair slightly. “Oh and George.” He turned, now behind her on the sofa. She twisted around just a bit, not wanting to smudge her work. “Come here.” She grinned and he leant down, hesitantly.

The girl reached a hand up and ruffled his hair, a laugh spilling past her lips perfectly. George almost blushed like a little boy as she did it, quickly laughing it off and hurrying up to bed before y/n could notice just how flustered she made him.

If y/n had thought the previous night had been manic, then the night of the yule ball was an apocalypse. She’d heard every girl’s problems circulate through her dorm as she tried to do her makeup, a new one arising with every passing minute. She didn’t mind too much, not having to fix them she focused on herself and getting ready in time.

George was sitting in the common room, with a lot of the other Gryffindor boys who were waiting for their dates, fixing each other's robes and checking their hair in the few mirrors. He wasn’t focusing much, just watching his feet as people around him talked about something stupid. He was nervous now, just doing nothing. The footsteps were light, and he hadn’t noticed them until Fred nudged him.

“Look,” He whispered to his brother, nodding to the archway beneath the dorm room steps.

Y/n stood there, surprised to see so many faces staring back at her. All the boys in the room were shocked at her change of appearance, used to her being in the school’s uniform or just comfy clothes.

Now she had her hair perfectly curled past her shoulders, and that black dress fitted her perfectly. George thanked god silently in that moment that she had kept it a secret from him, because it was incredible.

She laughed lightly as her date stood up amongst the small crowd, quickly going over to take her hand. The noise resumed, conversation finally returning but the looks not stopping until they left the common room. Y/n’s heels sounded as she passed by them all, hand in hand with George who couldn’t have felt luckier in that moment.

“You look amazing by the way,” He beamed as they walked through the castle together towards the great hall, where already most of the school was dancing.

They danced for hours, the boy spinning her round over and over just to see that smile across her face when he did. Not that she could stop smiling, being with George made it so easy to forget about everything else in the world. She never wanted it to end.

“I like being with you y/n,” The tall boy had whispered to her while they danced slowly amongst other couples, she had rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. Her throat froze up as she tried to reply calmly.

“I’m glad you asked me,” She answered, after a painstaking few seconds. Letting the boy release the breath he’d held since he’d uttered those words.

They danced in silence, a mutual understanding of their feelings spreading between the two. Fred and Angelina smiled over at them, both of them now knowing the truth as they saw their friends finally doing what had been hinted at over the years.

Once the dance was over, neith y/n nor George wanted to part ways. So the redhead snuck her out of the great hall, out of the castle and down to the black lake where they could spend just a little more time alone. It was late now, and the girl hoped that everyone would be too tired to come looking for them, maybe then she could stay with the Weasley boy all night.

Her dress was short and the night was cold, especially by the lulling water.

“Take this,” George took his dress robes off and wrapped them around the girl, his hands slowing as her face shone in the moonlight. She blushed at his gaze, making him laugh lightly. They sat by the water, the boy with his arms close around her as she still shivered only slightly. “We can go back if you’re too cold?” He offered, not sure why he was still whispering, but it calmed her.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/n reassured him. “I don’t want to go back yet,”

“Me neither.”

Hours passed as if they were fleeting seconds, ticking by without their knowledge until the sun began to rise and they laughed together. It peeked over the surrounding mountains, hitting them both with a blanket of warmth. She smiled up at George, her eyes glimmering perfectly. No matter how hard he tried, the boy couldn’t help but fall in love with her every time their eyes met.

She made him so brilliantly nervous, so much so that he longed for that moment she would smile or laugh because of him, and he’d forget how to breathe. That feeling in theory would scare George, but in practice it was the best thing he had ever felt.

Until y/n took that jump and reached up for him, her hands going to his face gently. That feeling of her undivided attention made him want to run into the lake with glee, as the girl's gentle lips hit his hard. He could feel that built up tension in her kiss, that she too had been wanting this as badly as himself.

George would later tell his brother that he could’ve died happy in that kiss, he would have let the girl stab him in the back if it meant she would press her lips to his just one last time. Which of course made Fred tease him endlessly, but he was in a daze over her.

But in the moment he took his chance, with the knowledge that it could be his only one, he kissed her with all the passion his body had. His arms wrapping tight around her waist as she ran her hands through his long hair, making him fight back a desperate whimper. The sweet taste of her felt like a drug upon George’s tongue as he held her closer by the second.

A cough from behind startled the pair, causing them to pull away, but the boy wouldn’t let go of y/n. Scared that she wouldn’t come back.

“Thought I’d find you sluts here,” Fred laughed, obviously drunk from whatever he’d been hiding in his robes all night. He squinted at the sun as he stumbled down the hill towards his brother and friend.

Y/n stood, her hand quickly slipping into George’s as she too didn’t want to let go just yet. His heart leaping bounds as she squeezed tight.

“Have you two been here all night?” Fred slurred, wobbling into his brother’s side. George propped him up and they walked up the hill towards the castle.

“Uh yeah sort of… have you been looking for us all night?” Y/n laughed as they reached the courtyard, letting the twins have a much needed rest on the stone wall.

“Angelina went off to bed so I went to find Dean and Lee for some drinks. The last thing I remember is Mcgonagall waking me up outside her classroom.”

“You slept outside transfigurations?” George scoffed, slightly out of breath.

“Must have,”

It seemed that more people had started waking up now, as Angelina appeared from the castle, running across the courtyard to see her friend.

“Darling!” Fred cried out, almost falling over his own feet. The girl just laughed and ignored him, George quickly telling y/n he’d see her later before dragging his brother away.

“So… you obviously never came back last night.” Angelina grinned, seeing her friend watch the redheaded boy she’d been with leave. She was still in her dress and heels with George’s robe over her shoulders.

“I’ll tell you about it once I’ve slept,”

“I bet you haven’t gotten any sleep you naughty thing!” “Lina! It wasn’t like that.” Y/n laughed, taking her best friend’s arm and heading up to their dorm.

After sleeping most of the day, she then found Angelina waiting excitedly on her bed for the girl to tell her every detail of the night. Once she was satisfied with the story the girl went downstairs, leaving y/n to wash up and wake up properly.

It was a sunday, and people were either still hungover like she had been or having to do last minute homework in the library. Luckily she’d prepared well and had the whole day to do as she pleased.

“Fred’s out like a light,” George laughed, making the girl look up from her book. She’d come down to the common room to sit by the fire, still cold from spending the night in a short dress and the boy’s thin robes, which she had yet to give back to him.

He came and sat beside her, smiling as she pushed her book away and gave him her full attention once again. The boy put an arm around her, letting her snuggle into his side as he had done all those nights ago.

“About this morning,” George started, feeling the girl in his arms tense a little “I’m sorry I didn’t make the first move.” Y/n went loose again, smiling up at him and shaking her head.

“I don’t care about that, I’m just glad you didn’t shove me away.” She joked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve had the biggest thing for you, for what feels like forever now?”

“Really?” She squinted, watching his face for any falters.

“Oh ask Fred, if he ever wakes up from his coma, I’ve told him more than I can trust him with. All of it to do with you.”

The girl blushed again, just urging him to hold her closer.

“I’m glad that you kissed me y/n, I wish I had done it sooner but really… it was all perfect.”

“Thank you for taking me to the ball, and being my date, and for feeling the same way about me.”

The two kissed once again, their faces illuminated by the fire’s glow as it crackled lightly. Everything around them faded away as both George and y/n wandered whether it was just them left in the world. At least that’s what it felt like.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Fred came sloping down the stairs wrapped in a thick blanket. He had been calling for his brother for about ten minutes now, with no response. That was because the slightly older twin had put a silencing spell on the room, not wanting the sweaty creature he had once known as family to ruin any moment he could spare with y/n.

“I think i’m gonna vomit.” Fred announced from the bottom of the steps. His face pale and gaunt. George didn’t look over before he spoke.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” He laughed, presuming the twin was just poking fun. Y/n’s gasp at the sight before her, however, led him to believe differently.

“Oh he’s gonna puke alright.” She grimaced, getting up and rushing off before she witnessed anything more. “I’ll see you at dinner George!” She called back making him smile, even as she was escaping the grim sight of Fred she still wanted to see him later.

He would have remained blissfully ignorant in his thoughts of y/n, if it wasn’t for the sound of belching beside him that ripped him away from that happy moment.

120 notes · View notes

thewayshedreamed · 4 years ago

Text

This Time— Part 6

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

This chapter offers some additional insight into Nesta’s thought process and sheds a little light on the ongoing process her emotional development has become. I hope it comes through!

This is somewhat of a “building” chapter so that we can get Nessian to the crest, so to speak. Part 7 is already written and only needs some editing, so it’s possible that I’ll be doing a double update today ☺️ They certainly have a lot to discuss, and once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. 😂 Anyway, enough of me. Enjoy!

Links to the previous parts:

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 ||

Warnings for grief related to the loss of a parent and some strong language.

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Around 11:00 PM, Nesta decided she couldn’t be alone with her thoughts anymore. She was ruminating on similar memories and effectively raking herself over the coals. Although she knew any one of her friends would be there for her no matter the time of day, she picked up her phone to call the one she knew would most likely be awake at this hour.

“Hello?” Azriel’s raspy voice came through the phone.

“Were you asleep?! Since when do you go to bed early?” Her surprise was obvious by her tone. What the hell? He’s never in bed before midnight.

“Nes. Always a pleasure.” Azriel breathed a chuckle into the phone. “I usually wouldn’t be. I’m.. umm.. at a friend’s house tonight.”

Nesta gasped and dropped her voice. “Oh my gods. Az, were you on a date?! Am I interrupting?” She clapped her free hand over her forehead. “I’m the worst. I’m sorry.”

Another chuckle from Azriel. “You don’t have to whisper, you know. She can’t hear you. You’re not interrupting anything. I was asleep when you called, but I’m out on the couch now. What’s up?”

”If you were asleep, then that counts as interrupting! Are you sure?”

”Yes. Just, maybe the short version?” His tone was tentative, almost as if he felt guilty asking her to keep it concise at 11 PM. No one truly deserved Azriel as their friend.

“I can do that. So, here it is. I’ll save you the long, tedious trip through my brain.” She paused for half a second to take a breath. “I’m in love with Cassian.” She let out a quiet groan for effect.

”Mhmm...” The lilting of his voice implied that he was waiting for something like the punchline of a joke; the unknown part of her statement.

Her breath caught. “I kind of expected more of a reaction.”

”Did you? I thought there was more to it.” He seemed entirely neutral in that grating way of his.

”How did you know?!” She asked, incredulously.

”You told me.”

“Mm.. I don’t think so. When?” Now she was actually confused. Did she make some kind of drunken confession at Rita’s? She would remember having this revelation before now.

“At brunch. When we were driving home.”

”What are you talking about?!” Her voice was definitely higher pitched than it had been previously. She was anxious to hear his response, thinking he had surely dreamed this.

”Nesta. We were in my car, backing out of the parking lot. You asked me, ‘Why couldn’t we be the ones to fall in love?’ Or something along those lines. I thought that you were using some cryptic way of telling me because it implied two parties. Why do you think I hit the brakes so hard?” He seemed impatient, as if he was telling her the most obvious thing in the world.

“I thought maybe the question weirded you out! I didn’t even realize what I said, to be honest. How the actual fuck do you notice tiny things like that?” She didn’t wait on his response. He would know it was rhetorical. “Now my problem is this: I think he’s dating someone, so I’ve lost my chance.” She briefly told him what she had overheard the night of Elain’s birthday, her voice starting to crack toward the end.

”Hm. He hasn’t said anything to me about that, but I could see why he would wait being that you and I are close. But honestly, I don’t know that you could ever lose your chance with Cassian, Nes.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. She simply sat there, playing with the corner of her throw blanket and hoping he would continue. He seemed to sense her discomfort and started talking again.

“I think you’ll regret it if you don’t talk to him. But, if I can offer my opinion, maybe wait a little while so that you know you’re absolutely sure this is what you want. I don’t know how he would handle it if you decided it’s not what you want.”

She felt herself prickle with defensiveness. “I wouldn’t do that to him, Az. Of course I’m sure. It only took me an eternity to figure this shit out.”

Azriel responded in a soothing tone he so often used with her. “I know. But remember, you’re not the one he talks to about you. I’m just looking out for my brother. Maybe let it marinate, yeah?”

She knew his intentions were pure, and she couldn’t really blame him for being protective. Before she could respond, she heard a feminine voice in the background ask: “Az, everything okay?”

She heard him pull the phone away from his face to answer. “Oh, yeah. All good. It’s Nesta.”

Delayed by her scattered brain and the copious amount of wine, the identity of the voice finally hit her full force.

”IS THAT ELAIN?!” She sat up straighter as if it would allow her to hear them more readily.

She heard Azriel laugh, followed by a shuffling on the other end.

“Hello? Nesta? Everything okay?” Nesta could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

“Hey, El. Everything’s fine! Sorry to crash your date. It seems we have quite a bit to talk about. Very soon.”

It took Elain a couple of seconds to respond, and Nesta could hear the smile in her voice. “Yeah. I think we do. Someone told me I should just talk to him. Turns out that they were right.” She paused, waiting for an “I told you so” from Nesta. She didn’t have the energy. “You know you can talk to me about Cassian, too, right?”

Nesta shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ve been leaning on Az since our fight, and I honestly haven’t had the energy to bring it up beyond that. But I do want to talk to you. And Feyre. It’s just been...hard.”

“I can imagine. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. It’s like the end of an era or something. Just know that we’re here.” Her voice was soft, laced with worry and a desire to help her older sister.

”Maybe for now,” Nesta teased, “but you may not have much time to chat these days.”

She knew she was blatantly deflecting, but El’s words had caused tears to prick her eyes yet again. It’s hard to remember a time before you and Cass. She realized how true it was, and what upset her the most was that she knew she didn’t want to know a time without Cassian.

The call wrapped up with more gentle teasing between the sisters, and eventually, embarrassing Azriel a bit over speakerphone. She told them she loved them and promised to keep them updated on how she was feeling. Her heart felt lighter once she finally ended the call, thanks to the laughter they managed to pull from her.

——————————————————————————

Christine Archeron’s death anniversary fell on a Tuesday that year, and Nesta awoke with a similar irritation as last year— death anniversaries should never fall on weekdays. She went through the familiar motions as any other morning, headed to work, and concentrated on her various tasks she was expected to juggle at any given time. As appearances went, it looked like any other ordinary day to those around her, so the extra heaviness remained hers alone to carry.

On her lunch break, she got a chance to pull her phone to check her messages and mindlessly scroll through social media. She had been focused on scrolling for so long that her phone took her by surprise when it vibrated in her hand. She tapped the notification by reflex and found herself studying the sender’s name as if it was some sort of mistake.

Cassian: Thinking about you today. I know it’s a rough one. Keep your head up. Christine would have it no other way ❤️

Nesta read the text several times in a row; just to make sure it was real. It had been so long since he’d contacted her intentionally, and it made her happy that he still thought to reach out today. It simultaneously made her a little sad; however, because it was yet another reminder of what she’d lost in him. That was an issue to deal with later.

Nesta: Of course you are, because you’re the perfect human, and I don’t deserve you. Thanks, Cass 💕 Means the world to me to hear from you. Mom really loved you, and I know she would appreciate you looking out for us.

She hesitated over the send button for several seconds before deciding to go through with it. It felt so weird to intentionally script any type of message to him being that they had spent most of their relationship entirely uncensored. Everything about it felt wrong— she couldn’t act natural with him because it wasn’t appropriate anymore, yet she didn’t feel right having to draft and redraft their communication. It was all so fucked, and she was tired of this odd limbo they stayed in.

She reflected on her conversation with Azriel and Elain on the night she had unintentionally crashed their date. She knew that they both held strong points about her situation and wouldn’t advise her to try to repair things if they knew it was a lost cause. She acknowledged that Azriel, specifically, knew more than he was at liberty to tell her. That being the case, she decided that was evidence in favor of hashing things out with Cassian. It wasn’t long before she was lost in her own thoughts, her food entirely forgotten.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to ensure I didn’t need anyone. I never wanted to depend heavily on another person in a way that I couldn’t manage on my own. But that’s not really the case anyway, right? I’ve managed fine these few weeks, but that’s the thing. I’ve managed. Why do I try to insist that’s enough for me?

But what if the door is closed? What if this was Cassian’s final push, and he’s gone? I don’t know Alis, and she could be wonderful. She probably appreciates the shit out of him and saw immediately that he’s not the average person. She probably knows how special he is. She probably beams anytime he enters a room and tries to take care of his heart in any way she can. She’s probably fucking delightful.

But does that really compete with history? I guess if that history is filled with turmoil, it could. She’ll never know the Cassian that was a freshman in high school— braces and curly hair, still a head taller than most of the other boys in class. She won’t remember how he hit his second growth spurt the summer after sophomore year, where he started to fill out and caught the attention of any girl with a pulse. She doesn’t know what it’s like when he’s truly angry with his dad and the world. She doesn’t know the full range of his eclectic music tastes or the guilty pleasures he sings depending on his mood. She didn’t do the leg work to reconcile the tough, intimidating exterior when he gets upset with the gentle soul beneath. There’s no way she knows when his humor and his laughter are distractions from his pain rather than when they’re genuine. She can’t love him like I do. Im-fucking-possible.

She was pulled abruptly out of her head, and incredible jealousy, by her alarm. It was time to go back to work and finish out the day, and she hoped it passed as quickly as possible. She silently chastised herself for piling this emotional time bomb on today of all days as she threw away her lunch and walked out of the break room.

So much for leaving this issue for later.

She resolved to put all of these thoughts back into their little box until she had the emotional energy to open the lid once again. Whenever the hell that would be.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day zoomed by at a blissful pace, thank the gods. In fact, when Nesta glanced at the clock, she realized it was several minutes after 5:00 PM. She clocked out, grabbed her things, and climbed into her car. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to make the drive out to the cemetery. She wasn’t sure what time Elain had been able to go by, but Nesta had agreed to meet Feyre at 5:30 to pay their respects. It was becoming a standing tradition, where they would make their short visit whenever they could during the day and follow with dinner together as a family.

She made it with a few minutes to spare, so she took that time to sit with her mom one-on-one. She gave her a brief update on her life, told her how much she loved and missed her, and gently brushed any leaves or grass clippings off of her headstone. There were fresh flowers in her vase, something she noted each year on her death anniversary. Any other time of year, they kept seasonally appropriate faux flowers to make sure her site was properly decorated. She made a mental note to offer to contribute to the fresh arrangement in the years following when she saw her family at dinner. They were always taken care of before she made it out to the cemetery, and she didn’t want to risk forgetting for the next year. She leaned into the arrangement, taking in the various floral scents emanating from the blooms in the bouquet. There was a myriad of vivid colors, wildflowers throughout, and Nesta loved how true to her mother’s spirit they were.

She turned when she heard car doors and saw Feyre approaching with Rhysand. She stood, extending an arm out to her baby sister, who accepted it readily and rested her head on her shoulder. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Rhysand stood nearby, resting his hand on Feyre’s opposite shoulder. They stood together for several minutes until Nesta excused herself to allow Feyre some time alone with their mom as well.

She drove to her father’s house where she found Elain already setting the table for dinner. They worked together quietly, making sure they had plenty of place settings for everyone. Azriel offered his help to carry various dishes of food to the dining table and took his seat next to Elain once it was all settled. Almost as if on cue, Feyre and Rhysand walked into the house and took their seats as well. The dinner started off quiet considering the somber mood, but Feyre was the first to break the tension when she started to tell stories from their childhood. In a matter of moments, their home was filled with animated story telling and loud bouts of laughter, and Nesta couldn’t think of a better way to honor her mom’s love of life.

As everyone finished up, she suddenly remembered her mental note from earlier. She waited for a natural lull in conversation, then commented softly, “Mom’s flowers were beautiful, you guys. You did an amazing job.”

”They were really perfect. They couldn’t have been more ‘Christine’ if you tried,” Feyre remarked.

“Elain, Dad. I’m not sure which of you took care of them this year, but would you let me take care of next time? I haven’t contributed since she passed, and I’d really like to.”

Mr. Archeron softly shook his head back and forth, communicating to Nesta that it hadn’t been him. Nesta adjusted her gaze to Elain who looked just as confused.

“Oh. Nes, I assumed it was one of you. I didn’t... I didn’t order them. I wished I had.” She looked down at her hands, and Azriel placed a supportive arm across the back of her chair.

“Okay... so who did?” She glanced around the table from person to person, but no one took any credit. It was Rhys who spoke up first, clearing his throat to master his voice.

“You don’t know?”

”Obviously.” She looked to Feyre for support. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Feyre said nothing, watching Rhysand talk with rapt attention.

When he spoke again, it was cautious, as if his words may startle her. “Nesta. The flowers are from Cassian. He’s done them every year since Mrs. Christine died.”

She was suddenly short of breath. Everyone’s attention snapped to Rhys, including her father’s. Her sisters and Azriel were looking at Rhysand with stunned expressions, their eyes flicking to her face occasionally.

“What? How could you know— why would you know, when we don’t? What the fuck is going on?” She was falling over her own words, struggling to form any cohesive thought.

”I’m so sorry,” Rhysand glanced around the room for the first time, realizing he had everyone’s attention. “The only reason I knew was because he asked me to make sure they made it from the flower shop to her gravesite the year he had knee surgery. He asked me to keep it to myself then, but I figured by now he would have said something to at least one other person.” He looked down into his plate, various emotions playing over his handsome face. Feyre leaned over to comfort him, knowing he was likely embarrassed to be the reason the air had changed so dramatically.

Nesta’s head was swimming, emotions roiling from a million different directions. She knew anger was cheap and unfair, but she pulled on that tether as hard as she could to make sure she could navigate everything she was processing. She was on her feet suddenly, pushing her chair away from the table and walking toward her keys.

“I have to go.” She couldn’t be in here anymore. The room was too small, the walls were too close. Too many people. She picked up the pace, flinging the door open and shutting it hard behind her. She was down the porch steps when she heard the door open again. Azriel’s voice followed her.

”Nesta. Where are you going? Nesta, stop!” He had jogged lightly to catch up with her, and he tugged her gently by the wrist to stop her. She spun on him quickly, eyes flaring and brimming with tears.

“Anywhere but here! What the fuck was that, Az?”

He said nothing; looked down at his own feet as he shook his head.

“Cassian has some fucking nerve, you know that? Why is he insisting upon himself?” Her voice was lowered and had taken on an almost eerie quality; the calm before the proverbial storm.

“Nes, I don’t think he meant to upset you. It sounds like it’s something he’s made somewhat of a tradition. Maybe he just wanted to be sure and see it through.”

”He doesn’t get to do that anymore, Azriel. He doesn’t get to butt-dial me while he makes date plans with some girl, then turn around and send flowers to my dead mother. What am I supposed to think about that? And how would that make his girlfriend feel?” Azriel pulled her into a hug at that, resting his chin on top of her head. He didn’t answer her. There was nothing to say.

She pulled away from him, gripping her keys, and walked toward her car. “I’m out. Tell them I love them, and I’ll call tomorrow.” She nodded her chin toward the house, climbed into her car, and backed out of the driveway.

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t sure how long she’d driven before she found herself in his driveway. She knew it hadn’t been very long considering the sun was still clinging to the end of the day. She honestly didn’t remember making the conscious decision to come here, likely fueled by anger and muscle memory more than anything else. She was still so frustrated at her situation, her emotions spilling over and refusing to be put into that stupid fucking box anymore. The worst part was that, as mad as she was with him, she so badly wanted to see him. She wished the circumstances were less complicated so that she could knock, ask for a hug and some tea, and lay on his couch. They were a hell of a long way from those people now.

She loosed a breath, puffing her cheeks with air and exhaling slowly. Just before she peeled her head from the headrest to get out, his front door opened. He opened it most of the way, then leaned against the door jamb on his shoulder. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweats and one of his ankles crossed casually over the other. For a moment, she only looked at him, unable to move or offer any type of acknowledgement. She took in the charcoal henley he was wearing, unbuttoned save for the very last one. The small flap of the opening leaned to the side, revealing the base of his neck and the beginning of his tattoos. He looked so very Cassian, casual and laid-back, that she struggled to keep her emotions level at the mere sight of him. His hair was down, looking like he had just run his fingers through it with its deep part and how it fell haphazardly around his face. He was wearing his reading glasses, she noticed, the thick frames highlighting the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the wide set of his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, and cocked his head to the side and back in invitation. She could almost hear him gently telling her to “get in here”.

Too late to turn back now.

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A/N: Alrighty, hope y’all enjoyed this chapter, even with minimal Nessian. The next chapter(s) will more than make up for it, though! I’m hoping to have max Nessian to y’all ASAP. A million thanks to all of you who continue to follow this au. Your comments/ feedback have meant the world to me!

If you’d like to be tagged, feel free to comment, reblog, or send a message! I’d be happy to add you to the list. If I’ve accidentally left you off or there are issues with your tag, let me know, and I’ll look into it! Comments and constructive criticism are welcome (even encouraged)!

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#nessian #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta #cassian #acotar #nessian au #nessian fwb #nessian angst #nessian fanfic #acowar #acomaf #archeron sisters #acotar fanfic #sjm #sarah j maas

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mistymazzello · 5 years ago

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Cruel Summer | part i

high school!joe mazzello x reader

summary- they used to be best friends, but now that y/n has a boyfriend (that everyone hates), joe and y/n can’t seem to come to terms with their feelings, but it’s no secret to anyone how they truly feel.

warnings- cussing and fighting. SLOW BURN!!

word count: 2.1k

a/n: here she is! i’ve been working on this for so long!! i really hope you guys like it and ANY feed back is appreciated.

based off of cruel summer by taylor swift.

September

Clink.

You jolted awake, immediately sitting up. Eyes still groggy, you looked at your alarm clock. 1:12 AM. Your heartbeat still rapid from your sudden awakening, you quickly climbed out of bed, knowing exactly what was happening.

Warm air poured into your room as you pushed your window open. There he was. He had his arm up like he was about to throw another rock. You leaned out your window and smiled down at him. His red hair reflected the moonlight as he smiled right back up at you.

“I told you to stop throwing shit at my window, Joey. You're gonna wake up my entire family. You have a phone for a reason.” You whisper-yelled at him.

He shrugged. “I like doing it the old fashioned way.”

It was silent for a moment, crickets and locusts chirping while Joe admired your messy hair and pajamas. He cleared his throat when he realized he was staring, scratching the back of his head as he remembered the reason he came to your house. “Um, I was thinking about going on a walk. Wanted to see if you wanted to come with me.”

“It’s 1 in the morning.” You stated.

“And?”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Y/N! We haven’t hung out with just the two of us in forever. I know you miss me!” He teased.

“It’s been 4 days.” You sighed. He gave you another convincing smile. You sighed and shook your head at him. “Let me get my shoes.”

May

The rain smashing against the windshield of Ben’s car was lulling, especially since it was 7:42 on a Friday morning. Ben was a good friend. He listened to your problems and never complained. He gave you advice. Not always good advice, but he gave you advice. And he drove you to school whenever you got your car taken away by your parents, today being one of those days. He hadn’t asked you why you had got it taken away, he just assumed it was the same reason as always. Caught sneaking out or caught sneaking someone in. Which it was. And now, even though it was 7:42 on a Friday morning, he listened to you angrily rant about Joe.

“And like, it takes a lot of fucking balls to treat me like that, but Carter? When Carter didn’t do shit to deserve it? Like it’s unbelievable. Carter has been nothing but nice to Joe and to all of you guys, and-”

Ben scoffed.

You stopped and looked at him, an amused smile playing on his lips. “What?” you asked.

He shook his head.

“No, Ben, seriously, what?”

He took a deep breath, reaching to turn the radio down. You shrunk in your seat.

“Do you really think that Carter is nice to Joe?” He asked.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Yes? Carter is so nice to Joe!”

He pulled into his parking spot and put the car in park. “Really.” He said sarcastically.

“Yes, really.”

Ben shook his head and unbuckled his seatbelt. “So we’re gonna ignore all of the times Carter blatantly says he doesn’t think Joe is good for you? And the times Carter won’t let you hang out with Joe? And all of the times Joe has tried to reach out to Carter but Carter is too stuck up for it? No offense, Y/N, I can tolerate Carter, I can, but he’s kind of a dick to us. And to you, for that matter.”

“Okay, woah.” You said. “Sure Carter and Joe butt heads, but that’s not Carter’s fault. Don’t even try to pin this on him. Also, Carter is not a dick to me. You don’t know the first thing about the way Carter treats me.”

“Really? Does Carter know I drove you to school? Are you gonna tell him or are you scared he’ll get mad because you’re hanging out with someone else besides him and you think he’ll either start a fight with me at school today or he’ll give you the silent treatment for a week, and both of those things have happened before so you actually don’t know what he’ll do next. He’s a dick, Y/N, whether you choose to see that or not. And I don’t have a problem with you dating him but you can’t praise him like a Saint.”

No. No, you’re not gonna cry right now. That’s embarrassing. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and your brain was hardly registering what Ben had said. You had never seen Ben act like this before. He would always support how you felt.

You grabbed your bookbag and opened the door. You expected him to try and say sorry as you were climbing out of his car, but he just watched you. You flinched from slamming the door so hard and stomped away from his car.

As the school day went on, you were able to calm down and think about what Ben had said to you.

He was right, you weren’t going to tell Carter that Ben had driven you to school that day. But that doesn’t mean anything. You liked Carter, truly. He was cute and popular and he played baseball and had a good family. You were more flattered that Carter had taken an interest in you anyway. And you wanted a boyfriend, so what did you have to lose?

Your friends, apparently.

You couldn’t pin point the exact moment you and Joe started hating eachother, but it was sometime afte you and Carter started dating. You didn’t want to hate Joe, you wanted your best friend back. But he doesn’t act like your best friend anymore.

It didn’t help that you and Joe had the same class schedules, either. At the beginning of the year, it was heaven. You got to spend the entire day with your best friend. But now, it was excruciating. It was a mess of snarky comments and finger brushing as you passed each other and glances that last a second too long. Even in your class with your entire friend group, English 12, you two would always manage to pick fights.

“We should do something tomorrow.” Gwilym suggested. “I feel like we haven’t hung out, just the 6 of us, in so long.”

“Yeah Carter’s kind of a buzzkill, isn’t he?” Joe said, his voice drenched in smugness.

You shook your head. “I’m not even gonna respond.” You said, not even looking up from your laptop.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to, we all know how we feel.” He smirked. You shot him a look. He shot you one straight back.

One of the perks of being a Senior meant you got to pick who your locker was by at the beginning of the year. Well, you didn’t have the same best friend at the beginning of this year as you did now. The order of the lockers went Gwil, Rami, Lucy, You, Joe, and Ben. That makes things especially awkward on days like today, when Joe had to just stand there as Carter came up behind you and tickled your waist and played with your hair and the whole group had to wait around for you to be done talking to him. Joe tries to ignore it, but your soft laughs make his heart ache, and watching Carter be the cause of them made his heart ache more.

He hated Carter. At first because he wasn’t him, but now because Carter is a dick who doesn’t care about your feelings. He hated Carter and he wanted you to break up and he wanted you to know that.

You were in the middle lying to Carter about who drove you to school, so Joe thought it was the perfect chance to say “Oh, Y/N, Ben wanted me to give this to you. He said you left it in his car this morning.” He held out your water bottle to you.

Everyone froze. Ben's eyes widened and Rami even laughed. You knew Joe had waited to give it to you because Ben is right there, he would’ve given it to you himself.

Carter grabbed it from Joe before you could even think about it.

He looked at it in his hand then scoffed. “Ben’s car?”

You shot Joe a look that said I’m gonna fucking murder you. He smirked right back at you.

You turned to Carter calmly and slowly took the water bottle from his hand. “Ben took me to school today.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Carter-”

“If you liked Ben so much, you could’ve just told me.” He said, then turned to walk away.

You looked at the water bottle in your hand and then Joe, who was still looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What, you’re mad that I gave you a water bottle? He basically accused you of cheating because you got a ride to school, Y/N. He’s a fucking idiot.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing, Joe.”

“Y/N, you’re fucking blind.”

“Yeah, and you’re a piece of shit.” You began walking out of the school, him following close on your tail.

“I don’t know why you can’t just go back to the way things used to be and stop being so selfish.”

You ignored him.

“I’m done caring about you. If you wanna keep getting fucked over by him then fine. Go ahead. But just so you know I’m not gonna be there for you to cry to at 1 in the morning next time.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

“Fuck you, Joe” you snapped, turning to around and stopping him in his tracks. A few tears fell down your cheeks and Joe quickly realized how serious this was.

“Ok that's enough.” Gwilym said. “Joe, lets go.”

Joe gave you a glance, silently begging you to come back to him. To be you again.

You glared at him, eyes softening a bit at the way he looked like he was hurting. “I hope you’re happy.” You said softly. He took one more second to look at you then turned and went with Gwilym.

You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and stood in the middle of the hallway for a few seconds. Lucy came up behind you and rubbed your back. “You ok?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“You wanna come home with me? We can stop and get some food and you can spend the night if you want. It’s been a while. I think you could use a girls night.”

You nodded with a light “Ok.”

You didn’t end up spending the night at Lucy’s that night. You went to her house for a while, relieved to just relax with your friend. You watched a few movies and laid together in her bed, but Carter ended up calling you, asking if you could talk. Without a second thought you left Lucy’s house, climbing into Carter’s car. You were the one who ended up apologizing.

Joe saw Carter’s car in your driveway that night. It hurt him. He knew about the way Carter treated you (who didn’t?) and he just wanted you to be happy. He missed climbing into your backyard at night and running out of things to throw at your window. He missed your texts asking him to take you on a drive, he missed making you laugh, he missed seeing you smile, but most importantly, he missed his best friend. He heard Carter pull away from your house around 2. He knew his attempt to break you up had failed. His heart got the best of him and he picked up his phone, doing what he had quite literally just promised you he wouldn’t.

Joey: Hey.

The text coming across your screen made your heart skip. You were so mad at him, but the familiarity of him texting you at 2am made you weak, so you opened the message.

Y/N: Hi

Joey: So you made up then?

You realized that Joe, who was your neighbor, had most likely seen Carter’s car.

Y/N: Yeah.

Joey: I don’t want you to hate me, y/n/n. I just care about you, that’s all.

You could’ve punched him in the fucking face.

Y/N: A little too late for that.

That stung. Joe sighed, typing and retyping his message over and over again until he just gave up.

You waited for Joe to reply for an hour. You tried to go to sleep, but you kept thinking you heard Joe throwing rocks at your window. But he wasn’t. You checked.

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gavillain · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on the Loki tv show then?

Short version: I'm liking it! I fully expected to hate the show given that I hated almost everything they did with Loki in the MCU after Dark World. However, they're doing a pretty good job. I think overall, it's a mixed bag for me, but a mixed bag is so much better than I was expecting that I'm very happy with it. Episode 3 really was a big step up after the first two eps and I hope future episodes continue.

Now if you want the long version, I've been writing up my thoughts after each episode to share on a private forum, so I'll copy and paste under the cut. Also spoilers galore past this point:

Ep.1 "Glorious Purpose" Loki himself is the big important thing so I'm gonna talk about him first, and I was both happy and disappointed with his characterization here. Let me explain. Tom Hiddleston obviously plays everything perfectly, and he did a great job on every moment. But the writing on Loki's character is pretty inconsistent. There were a LOT of moments that genuinely felt like they were right out of the golden era of MCU Loki that captured his speech patterns perfectly, his mannerisms, his world view, his humor. Those moments were legitimately there, and they were there more often than I was expecting. Ragnarok had Loki written wrong down to the dialogue and his manner of speaking, and so it was actually very refreshing to see him written generally well, particularly in his conversations with Agent Mobius. However there were multiple moments where he was blatantly written out of character to pander to jokes or to dip into that Ragnarok jokey joke tone. I audibly groaned at the "Am I robot" bit, which was SUCH low brow human and so not in line with the fact that Loki literally knows exactly what he is and had a "species reveal" that was very important to his character. I also would have liked him to be a little more violent. This man came out of a portal, saw SHIELD agents threatening him and immediately went into kill mode in Avengers. Yet this guy stands around and lets himself be taken and forced into situations a lot. But overall, I was happy with his general characterization because I expected the bad stuff to be much worse and it wasn't and the good stuff was more plentiful than I expected. I wasn't fond of the "I don't enjoy hurting people" bit because it's weepy and wrong, but it also was an expected development and I do appreciate that they're at least delving deep into his character on an intellectual level and playing off that "Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself" line of Frigga's. There's potential to do something interesting with him here, so I'm intrigued if not convinced. The Time Keepers concept I hate, but I think I hate it because Loki ALSO hates it and we're a bit too alike in a few regards even here XD I just kind of wish it was less bureaucratic and "we're a joke about corporate offices" and was something more mystical and other worldly. I feel like if it was more science fantasy and ethereal feeling, I would probably be a lot more down for it. But I guess you gotta save money somehow. Agent Mobius is likable, and I like how he can go toe to toe with Loki and how he's kind of morally neutral. I called that Loki was the dangerous time variant disrupting the timeline before it was revealed, but I have to wonder why in the final scene they kept his face hidden. That would have been a great opportunity to show Hiddles hamming up the evil bloodlust, and I am HUNGRY for that. But they kept that Loki hidden in shadows for a reason, and I have two theories regarding why: 1. It actually ISN'T Loki and Agent Mobius is wrong and our villain is someone else. 2. Our villain is LADY Loki and they're saving the reveal that villain Loki is a woman for a later episode. We'll see if I'm right. I HOPE it's number 2 if they kept him in shadow for a reason. So yeah. Not exactly what I wanted but we're on the right track at least for now. I hope this track leads somewhere interesting.

Ep.2 "The Variant" So, first things first, this episode had "I Need a Hero" during a fight scene and TOTALLY botched it. It was way too early to play that card, the action didn't sync with the battle, and it was between a few nameless TVA agents and the evil Loki with the evil Loki still masked in shadow and not really doing much. It just lacked the OOMPH that I felt was necessary for it to be satisfying. This should have been done better. Loki characterization update: less good and less bad than episode one at the same time. There was no "Am I a robot?" cringe, but there was a lot less of the really good Loki dialogue that caught my attention in episode 1. His seemed to have kinda settled back to the mediocrity of Ragnarok Loki with occasional moments of intrigue such as his whole bit about a wolf's ears and teeth. Loki's obviously planning to overthrow the time keepers and to become the new master of time, and he even says as much to his alternate counterpart this episode. I have a sick feeling they're going to have him grow to like the TVA and to save the time stream, but I really want him to follow through with his plans because I think that's much more interesting than the alternative. Will they do it? Time will tell. I also like how much he utterly does not give a shit about Mobius's condolences about Ragnarok happening. That was a good touch. Speaking of Mobius, I still don't care for him or the TVA. They're all just very boring to me, and I don't like Loki being caged to follow their bidding. It's restraining a hurricane of excitement by forcing it to play within this very structured framework instead of burning through freely. With Loki escaping into the timestream to chase after the other Loki, hopefully that will change for the better next episode. Mobius himself gets his character expanded a bit, but his expansion is literally that he is just a cog who doesn't question his purpose and does what he does because it's what he's told to do. And that's just not compelling to me. Sidebar: Ravona, Kang the Conqueror's lover, is the head of the TVA. A fun tidbit but where's Kang? I like the way the episode explored how time variants can't happen during massive catastrophes and apocalypses because everyone dies and everything gets destroyed, so they're safe places for time variants to hide and interact with history. I enjoyed Loki and Mobius going back and messing with Pompeii right before Vesuvius erupts to test that theory. That was fun (though I wish Loki would have, instead of just acting silly and making a scene, would have done his "Kneel before me" bit on the Pompeiians or something more villainous). And I liked the whole aesthetic of them exploring a massive hurricane in Alabama in 2050 and the whole aesthetic going on there. It gave the episode an epic quality. The evil Loki was revealed in this episode, and the twist is that she's Lady Loki. Yeah, I called it. She hasn't done much herself yet and we haven't seen her do much except posses the bodies of various others and then break the timeline with multiple sprawling timeline variants, both of which is very cool. I'm excited for her, though my biggest complaint is that she has blonde hair. No. Lady Loki has BLACK hair. Why didn't they stick her in a black wig or have the actress dye her hair??? AMORA is the blonde Asgardian villainess. Lady Loki has the same hair color as Loki. And... look, I know it's a dumb detail to get hung up on, but the black hair matters to me because Loki has black hair and his beautiful female form does too and I always liked that for personal reasons. Also, she doesn't want to be called "Loki" apparently which is weird but okay, so what DOES she want to be called? I swear if they name her Amora or Sigyn, I'm gonna throw something.

But yeah, the next episode I think promises to be a change of pace, and we can see if Loki can truly spread his wings free of the TVA. I hope he does.

Ep.3 "Lamentis" This was the best episode yet! And for MULTIPLE reasons. This episode sees Loki and Lady Loki Sylvie stranded together in time. It was away from the TVA and it's boring qualities, which was great, and it put two very interesting characters in a situation where they had to rely on each other. This is more of what I was HOPING we'd get from the show. It's a lot more engaging and fun. The TVA always feel like they have their boot on our necks, and having that boot gone, it's amazing how much easier it is to breathe. And I honestly think that was intentional too with regards to how Sylvie outright calls them tyrannical fascist time police. The whole thing with Loki and Sylvie being stranded on the planet Lamentis during its apocalypse is super cool too. First of all, Lamentis is BEAUTIFULLY designed. I can tell they relied on desert locales to save on the budget, but the purple sky, the colorful train, and the neon alien city are all really pleasing to look at. And with the sky literally falling around them, it looks even cooler and the stakes feel cosmic and intense because they ARE. A very good setting that felt refreshing after the very mundane TVA headquarters and Earth scenes. Loki continues to be a sort of mixed bag with weird moments of humor that feel like they were written by someone else for another character, but those moments were a lot more sparse this time around too. Tom is still unmatched in the role, and I love the way he got to be serious, smug, manipulative, and sincere in this episode. I've kinda accepted and settled into anti-hero Loki for this series, and I'm honestly pretty okay with it here. See, I think my issues with Loki being "good" is that it comes with making amends with Thor or working for the TVA. Seeing him pursuing his own agenda on his own terms and collaborating with a kindred spirit who he seems to genuinely like is a lot easier to stomach because it feels a lot more true to the freedom that is so potent about his villainy. I loved him talking about Frigga and how she taught him her magic. That was a genuinely powerful moment. Also even though his dagger metaphor for love got kinda undercut by a joke, I think it was quite good writing and really cut to the point of what makes Loki tic. Also this episode marks a VERY important moment: Loki was canonized on screen as being bisexual in the MCU. He is the FIRST queer main character in the MCU and the first queer main protagonist of a Disney show. And I like the way they did it too! The way Sylvie asked about if he had any dalliances with princesses and then adds "or princes" and Loki says "a bit of both." It was simple and direct and unambiguous, and I love it because Loki has always BEEN queer in the MCU and the writing for him has been very queercoded. Even if that little moment is all it amounts to, it really matters and means a lot to me that they did it and I'm so happy for it. I hope they give him a boyfriend though. Like PLEEEEASE Marvel. Sylvie I'm more okay with this time around. She IS established as Sylvie and not really identifying as Loki anymore, so I can separate her from my preconception of Lady Loki and not mind the BLONDE so much. Sylvie is the name of the second Enchantress in the comics, an Enchantress that Loki himself created. I'm interested to see where they go with her backstory and who she is and what her deal is because they've been implying that she differs from the main Loki quite a lot to the point where she barely even remembers who Frigga was. I also like that Loki's response to the bisexual question implies that Sylvie is bi too. Get that MLM/WLW solidarity. I hope they don't ship them, but I hope they DO stay friends and allies because I'm loving their friendship chemistry. Also, a minor thing in the grand scheme of this episode, but Loki SINGS in this one! And I love it! Tom's always had a very pretty voice that he's gotten to show off in other roles so I'm glad he got to show off his singing in this role too. The Norse folk song he sings was both jovial and somber all at once, and I

loved it. We deserved this Minor nitpick: please give Loki his Asgardian clothes back or something. Because this TVA suit is fucking ugly and I hate it. Sylvie looks so good next to him, and he deserves to be just as stylish. This was a GREAT turning point. PLEEEEEASE keep it up. F&WS failed to. But I genuinely believe that Loki can do it.

#Loki #Loki series

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arrantsnowdrop · 5 years ago

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Early Morning Mayhem - Poe Dameron x reader (fluff)

Warnings: some mentions of anxiety, other than that it's pretty fluffy, 2,735 words

A/N: This was not requested but I've had this idea since I watched TROS (which was literally months ago at this point). I haven't written for the Star Wars fandom before but I'd love to write some stuff for characters from any of the three trilogies, Rogue 1, or the several tv series-es! Request away if you have any ideas/concepts I could make into some oneshots, and enjoy this fun little Poe fic :)

When Snap Wexley joined the Resistance, he begged you to come with him. You had been neighbors since you were children growing up on Akiva, and were nearly inseparable by the time you were five. When you were ten, Nora Wexley taught you both how to fly, and when you were twelve, you helped him cope with her sudden departure. You collected scrap metal and spare parts for him to sell when he opened his small business, and when his mother finally returned, you kept the shop open while he helped her hunt down Imperial fugitives.

You were blatantly displeased when he told you he’d been recruited as a fighter pilot, and rightfully so. The last thing you wanted was for your best friend to get blown up into a million tiny pieces. Naturally, your concerns sparked a heated debate about the soundness of his decision:

“I’m just worried, that’s all,” you said exasperatedly.

“(Y/n), I’m literally the best pilot you know,” Snap joked. You rolled your eyes.

“The First Order isn’t going to give a damn about how great you are while they’re trying to kill you!” A pause. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Snap. I wouldn’t be able to deal with it if you did,” you said softly.

“So come with me then,” Snap replied instantly. You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me, join the Resistance. You’ll be able to know where I am and what I’m doing all the time, so you’ll be less worried,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Yea, but what will I do?” you asked. “I’m not gonna enlist as a pilot, we both know I can’t fly under pressure.” Snap chuckled and nodded.

“True, but you’re also the best mechanic I know. I’m sure the Resistance is gonna need someone to fix all the X-wings I’m bound to break.”

You laughed quietly, then looked around at the stacks of broken machinery piled high in Snap’s home.

“What about the shop?” you asked.

“(Y/n),” Snap said seriously, “the Resistance is going to support you way more than any profits from this place ever will.” He gestured wildly to the store around him. “This isn’t important. You’d be stupid to stay if you’re thinking about the money.”

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully (a nervous habit). Finally you looked back up at him.

“I’ll do it,” you stated firmly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

When you arrived at the Resistance base on D’Qar, Snap had eagerly introduced you to Goss Toowers, one of the senior starship mechanics for the Resistance’s fleet. Goss had been thrilled you wanted to join the technical crew, and offered you a position as a mechanic right away (“This is so exciting, we love getting new members on tech crew,” he had gushed happily. You couldn’t help but smile).

You found that the Resistance’s fleet of T-70 X-wings were quite similar to the T-65 models you had learned to fly with Snap back home, just with slightly different engines and weapons pods. It didn’t take you long to establish yourself as one of the most skilled mechanics on the tech crew, with the most severely damaged X-wings going directly to your station after battles.

You had to admit, you understood why Snap had been so eager to join the Resistance. You felt like you had become a part of something much bigger and more important than yourself, and you truly enjoyed every moment of your job.

You also enjoyed getting to know the many technicians and pilots you worked with. You’d always been more reserved with people you didn’t know well, but it had only taken you a few days to become close friends with Jess Pava.

Jess had also made it her mission to introduce you to as many of the fighter pilots as she could (“Then you can know whose X-wing you’re fixing,” she’d pointed out). While it was certainly overwhelming at first, you were more than grateful for the new friendships you had formed.

That being said, there were many pilots you had yet to meet, including the famed Poe Dameron.

It wasn't like you didn’t know who he was, everyone knew about Commander Dameron and his seemingly endless list of accomplishments - you’d even performed repairs on his distinct X-wing once or twice . Still, the closest you had gotten to meeting him was when you watched him climb out of his slightly damaged cockpit after a narrow victory over the First Order; he’d disappeared into a sea of celebrating rebels before you’d gotten the chance to say hello.

That’s why it was startling when he ran up to you in the cafeteria in the middle of the night, asking you to fix his ship.

There had been a small skirmish the day before that had escalated into a larger fight, resulting in many casualties. The mechanic team had spent the entire day fixing up the X-wing fleet, which had proved to be quite exhausting.

By midnight, most of your fellow mechanics had gone to bed, saving the rest of the repairs for the next day. You’d finally decided that your lack of energy was inhibiting your ability to work, so you’d decided to get a few hours of sleep before resuming the repairs.

You were just grabbing a cup of tea on the way to your room when you heard someone frantically yelling your name.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!”

You turned around quickly, seeing none other than Poe Dameron sprinting towards you, his well-known orange BB unit following behind him.

You blinked twice in confusion, honestly thinking you were so tired you had begun to hallucinate. No, you concluded, watching as Poe came to a stop in front of you, hunched over slightly and panting to catch his breath; the man in front of you was very real, and seemed very concerned.

“Uh, yes?” you replied slowly, absolutely bewildered as to why a Resistance Commander would be looking for you at two in the morning.

“X-wing, needs repairs,” Poe managed breathlessly, still recovering from his intense running stint. The droid beside him beeped twice in agreement, wobbling quickly from side to side.

“Yea, I’m so sorry I didn’t get to fixing it today, but it’ll definitely be done some time tomorrow-” you started, but Poe quickly cut you off.

“Leia needs me to go on a mission in two hours,” he interrupted, “and with the upper left wing mostly detached, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it out of the hangar, let alone to Onderon.”

You felt your heart drop, realizing the gravity of the situation. His brows furrowed, seeming to sense your nervousness.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his voice. “You just got super pale.”

“Yea, yea I’m fine,” you reassured softly, though he did not seem convinced. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go and fix it up right now.”

You bit your lip as you turned to go, realizing it was going to be nearly impossible to fix his ship in two hours. The wing wasn’t the only thing that was damaged - Goss had said something about a problem with both the engine and the flight computer. While you were definitely capable of fixing them, you knew it was going to take a significant amount of time, and you were already so tired.

“Wait, (Y/n),” Poe said, grabbing your arm and gently turning you back to face him. You blushed, immediately moving out of his grip. If Poe noticed he didn’t say anything.

“BB-8 and I can help you if you want, I know I fucked up my ship pretty bad,” he chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled a little and nodded.

“Yea, you definitely did,” you joked softly. Poe smiled, and you blushed again, looking down at the floor. “Um, if you’d like to help I’d appreciate that very much.”

“Alright then, off to the hangar!” he exclaimed, jogging out of the hangar and taking off down the hall.

“Does he run everywhere?” you asked BB-8, who beeped a quick ‘yes’ before rushing out of the room to follow Poe.

~~~~~

An hour later, you’d managed to reattach the wing and had started to rewire the flight computer. It seemed like enemy fire had severed the connection between the computer and the rest of the ship, so you’d have to reconnect it before doing anything else.

Poe had been working on the damaged part of the left split-engine. The upper engine had been damaged along with the wing - nothing too serious, and Poe had assured you that he’d done similar repairs many times before.

“I think the engine is all set,” he called. You looked over your shoulder to where he was straddling the engine, mindlessly tossing a wrench he’d borrowed from you between his hands.

“Do you want me to check it?” you asked from where you were perched on the front part of the ship. He looked up at you and nodded, groaning as the wrench he’d been playing with dropped to the floor.

You laughed and jumped onto the ground, picking the metal tool up off the ground on your way over to him. You peered into the engine, carefully inspecting his work.

“Looks great!” you smiled as you looked up at him, setting the metal tool down next to him.

“Thank you very much, miss mechanic,” he replied with a grin. You rolled your eyes as he picked the wrench up and began to toss it again - Jess was right, Poe Dameron truly was a five year old trapped in a thirty-two year old’s body.

You stretched your arms over your head and sighed. You were still very tired, but Poe’s relentless chatter had woken you up somewhat.

“How’s the computer looking?” he asked.

“Alright,” you replied, climbing up the ladder you’d set against the ship earlier. “I’m almost done reconnecting the computer system to the ship, and then I have to turn it on and see if I need to reprogram anything.”

“Sounds very technical,” Poe said thoughtfully. You laughed and nodded, picking up a stray black wire and beginning to feed it into its designated port.

“This part is mostly just putting the right wires in the right spot, so not super complicated,” you said. “It’s basically a puzzle.”

“Well, it looks pretty complicated to me,” Poe said, hopping down from the top of the engine to put the wrench back in your toolbox. You grinned as you snapped the final wire into place.

“BB-8, can you turn the ship on?” you called to the small droid sitting in the astromech socket. BB-8 chirped happily, and after a few seconds you felt the X-wing rumble to life. From where you were sitting, you could see the panels in the cockpit begin to light up.

“The flight computer is officially reconnected,” you stated, getting up and doing a small happy dance as you walked over to the cockpit.

Poe laughed as you hopped in, squinting at the dashboard in front of you.

“Can you hand me the little red case in my toolbox?” you asked Poe.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, saluting you jokingly as he grabbed the toolbox and reached up into the cockpit to hand it to you.

You mumbled a thank you and grabbed the case, covering your mouth with your free hand as you stifled a yawn.

“You tired?” he asked, folding his arms across the edge of the cockpit and using his hand to prop his head up.

You nodded, opening the case and grabbing a thin metal rod. Some of the lights on the dash were flickering, and a few hadn’t turned on at all. You figured some of the integrated circuits inside the dashboard had come loose during the fighting.

“I’ve been up since five,” you said, pressing a button on the dashboard and removing the control panel.

“In the afternoon?” Poe said, grabbing hold of the control panel as you passed it to him.

“This morning,” you clarified, reaching into the now exposed circuit board of the ship. You grinned, your theory having been right, and used the metal rod to jostle some of the computer chips back into place.

“So you’ve been working all day then?” Poe asked. You nodded, looking back at him and frowning at the guilty look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking the dashboard back into your own hands.

“I’m so sorry for asking you to do this,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I should’ve asked Goss or someone else.”

“Poe, it’s fine,” you said reassuringly, sliding the panel back into place.

“No, it’s not,” he said bluntly. “I bet you were going back to your room when I found you, right?”

You bit your lip and nodded slowly, grimacing as Poe cursed and jumped back onto the ground.

“I’m such an asshole!” he groaned.

“Poe, look at me,” you called, waiting until he finally met your gaze to continue talking. “I agreed to do this, remember? This isn’t your fault at all.”

“I still feel bad,” he muttered.

“An all-nighter every once in a while doesn’t do any harm,” you said nonchalantly, sliding out of the cockpit. “And I wasn’t going to sleep much anyways.”

He looked at you softly as you set your tools back down on your work table and wiped your hands on your pants. You looked up at him and grinned, then gestured to his ship.

“She’s ready for flying, Dameron,” you beamed. He chuckled walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, (Y/n),” he said, voice slightly muffled by your hair.

“You’re very welcome, Poe,” you replied, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms and chest under his flight suit. “You can ask me to fix your ship anytime.”

“I will definitely take advantage of that,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you. “It always flies better after you fix it.” You gasped, grinning in pleasant surprise.

“You notice when I fix your X-wing?” you asked. He nodded.

“Of course I do, half the time I make sure it goes directly to you after I get back from skirmishes and the like,” he added. You bit your lip and looked down at your feet.

“I didn’t know you knew who I was,” you admitted softly. He laughed, using his hand to tilt your head back up. You blushed, a little lost in his dark brown eyes.

“(Y/n), everyone knows who you are, you’re like the best mechanic in the Resistance,” he said genuinely. You smiled bashfully at his compliment.

“Thank you,” you said softly. He nodded and stepped back, grabbing his helmet from the table next to you.

“Well, duty calls,” he said, a grin on his face as he put his helmet on. You giggled.

“Be safe,” you said.

“Anything for my favorite mechanic,” he replied with a wink. You blushed again and looked down at your shoes.

“You ready, bud?” Poe called to BB-8, who beeped excitedly. He laughed and climbed into the cockpit, looking back at you before he shut it.

“Would you like to go out for dinner when I get back?” he asked, a smile on his face. You grinned, setting your hand on your hip.

“Are you asking me on a date, Dameron?” you asked. He bit his lip and nodded.

“I do believe I am.”

“Well,” you replied, “if you don’t unintentionally snap another wing off your X-wing, I’ll most definitely be available.” Poe laughed.

“See you tonight then!” he called as he closed the cockpit.

You backed up and waved as he made his way out of the hangar and onto the runway outside. You were still grinning as he took off, and you didn’t stop watching him until his ship was just a speck against the dark sky.

Two hours ago, you were sitting in the cafeteria with your cup of tea, and now you had been invited to dinner by the Poe Dameron, who apparently both knew who you were and admired your work. It was a lot to take in.

You grabbed your toolbox and headed over to the next ship awaiting repairs; you still had a lot of work to finish if you wanted to sneak in a nap before going on a date with the best pilot in the Resistance.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x original character #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe x oc #poe dameon fluff #poe dameron fic #star wars #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker

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elysia20 · 4 years ago

Text

UNFORGETTABLE - PART 4

Chapter 3

Hogwarts express - 12:34pm

Elle was happy.

She was back with her friends.

But the thought of her father and brother associating with he who must not be named, sent shivers down her spine.

It caused the hairs on her arm to rise.

It left her with an uneasy feeling in her lower belly.

She didn’t want to believe it. How could she?.

Theodore was her twin bother. He told her everything.

Her father on the other hand, told her nothing. He may not have been the nicest of men, but working for the dark lord wasn’t a possibility. Surely.

Deep in thought, she almost missed the small tap on the door of the compartment.

Looking towards the sliding door, she met eyes with the kind, old trolley lady.

Giving her a warm smile, she reached into her bag for her purse.

After collecting a few coins, she proceeded to make her request.

“Please may I have, 2 liquorice wands, a chocolate frog and some fizzing whizzbees?’ She spoke gently to the old witch.

The old woman turned to her with a smile on her face, presenting her with her treats.

“There you go dear, that will be 2 galleons” she hummed towards Elle.

Elle swiftly handed her the coins, muttered a quick ‘thank you’ and retreated back into her compartment, but not without the older witch making a comment.

“Such lovely manners, just like your mother’ the witch looked to her with a smile.

Elle couldn’t help but feel a tad of guilt as the older witch spoke.

Looking down onto her lap, she could feel the tears well in her eyes.

Careful to not alert the others, Elle shifted her gaze and proceeded to look out of the window.

Watching the green fields pass her by.

Trying to rid herself of her thoughts.

Anything concerning Elle’s mother was a soft spot.

Despite the older witch giving her a compliment, even likening her to her mother caused her pain.

Though she died 14 years ago, the wound was still fairly fresh.

Theodore had never felt like this.

Elle had asked him many times how he felt about mother.

He never really had a proper answer. Stating he didn’t even know her, so he couldn’t really be sad.

That was the one thing about Theo that really pissed Elle off.

The only thing about him that really made her tick.

The fact that he was never truly open with his emotions.

I guess that was the Slytherin within him.

After glancing out of the window for a reasonable amount of time, Elle glanced back towards her group.

Ron and Hermione were arguing over something mundane - as usual.

Harry though, seemed to be in a daydream.

Pulling him from his thoughts Elle spoke “Something on your mind H ?”

He looked towards her with a sheepish smile , “Everything’s great, do you have something on your mind?” “No, not really, just thought you looked like you were deep in thought” she uttered.

He just smiled towards her while shaking his head.

Elle and Harry always had a special relationship. Despite, Elles father being alive, she considered herself to be an orphan.

One of her parents may have been dead, but the other blatantly pretended that she didn’t exist.

Elle was an orphan.

Harry may not have had the best upbringing but at least the Dursley’s acknowledged his presence.

Something Elle used to long for from her father. Just a little bit of recognition.

When she first learned to fly a broom, she expected her father to be happy for her - he was a keen quidditch player in his day.

Instead he congratulated Theo with a bone-crushing hug, while only giving a weak smile to Elle.

By the age of 8 Elle knew not to expect anything from her father.

Even on the twins birthday, Theo would get more praise, more appreciation, more LOVE.

That was something that Harry and Elle could relate on, they never received love from their families.

When Elle met Harry back in first year, they knew they were going to be two peas in a pod.

From sharing answers in potions class, to defending each other from Malfoy and his gang of gits, they knew that they were destined to be friends.

Now four years later, that statement remained true. Despite Harry endangering their lives each year, Elle had grown to love the specky boy. He had always been true friend. He had never lied to her.

She hoped the same could be said for her brother. In a moment of madness Elle decided to question him. She couldn’t wait till they got to Hogwarts. She had to know now.

In a quick movement, Elle rose to her feet.

All three of her friends, quickly planted their gazes on her questioningly.

“Elle, where are you going?’ Hermione asked her kindly. Ron just stared, while forcing yet another chocolate frog past his lips.

“…Oh I have to speak to Theo about something, I think I put something in his trunk by accident’ she stuttered quickly. Harry narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

Elle was acting differently. He just knew it.

She hurriedly slid open the door and closed straight behind her.

She could see the trio looking at her cautiously but she didn’t care.

Briskly walking up the train corridor, narrowly missing people - the first years were acting crazy.

High on sugar, Elle presumed.

Approaching the Slytherin carriage, Elle placed her hand on the handle.

As she began to twist the handle, it wouldn’t budge.

She tried again.

She began to get flustered as she could see her peers around her, giving her strange looks.

As she was about to give up and go back to the trio, she heard a low silky voice mutter

“Do you need some help with that?’

As she turned around to see who owned the beautiful voice, she came face to face with the school heartthrob.

Cedric bloody Diggory.

Giving her a warm smile, he reached down to the handle, gave it a quick twist, and it opened straight away.

“Those Slytherins eh? They will do anything to keep people out of their compartment, including putting a charm on the door” he whispered with a smirk.

Elle giggled nervously.

Cedric looked down on her with a kind smile, “I’m Cedric”.

He stuck his hand out for her to shake, as a kind gesture.

Elle was staring at him.

She couldn’t help it. His smile could make butter melt.

He was beautiful.

Entranced by his beauty, Elle was still staring.

Cedric waved his hand across her face “Hello, is anyone home” he laughed.

Elle again laughed nervously.

“i’m Elle” she stuttered.

He chuckled “Well Elle, I guess I’ll be seeing your around then”

She giggled again.

‘What is wrong with you’ she scolded herself.

“I’ll make sure of it” he finished.

He gave her one last smile and then retreated to his compartment.

Turning back to face the Slytherin compartment, Elle took a deep breath and made her way inside.

She was immediately greeted with glares.

Glares of those who were angry that someone managed to open the door.

Glares because she was a Gryffindor.

Spotting Theo she mad her way up the corridor.

She was immediately bombarded with ‘hello’s’ from Pansy and Daphne.

After saying a quick hello, she turned to Theo.

“Theo” she spoke, “Can I talk to you”.

Glancing up at his sister, Theo went to stand up.

Malfoy placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you blood traitor”. He hissed

Theo gave Malfoy a quick glance and forcefully removed his hand from his shoulder.

“Stop calling her a blood traitor you dick, she’s my sister, if she wants to talk, we’ll talk. It’s not like I need to ask you for permission” Theo muttered.

Malfoy just glared at them both.

Pulling Elle aside Theo began “What do you need to talk about? It must be quite severe considering you would never set foot in this carriage otherwise” he gave her a concerned look.

“ I just need to ask you something, I don’t believe it, but I just had to be sure” she whispered.

He looked towards her, the concern visible on his face.

“Did you have anything to do with what happened at the quidditch world cup?”. She muttered.

Theo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His own sister questioning him.

“No? What are you talking about?” He quickly responded.

Elle looked at him questioningly, ‘it’s just that Malfoy said…” she went on.

“Malfoy?” He stated. “When did Malfoy talk to you?” He whispered angrily.

“Just before I got on the train, he was antagonising me, so I insulted him, but he said that you were involved” she whispered back.

“Don’t listen to anything that dick has to say about me. He loves spreading rumours. He lives for it. Almost more than Pansy. Just know that whatever he says about me isn’t true. Okay?” He gave her a soft smile.

“Just try to keep your distance from him Elle.” he continued “he isn’t a good bloke, and I don’t want him picking on you because of your friends”. Said Theo, acting like a concerned big brother.

“Don’t worry T, being within breathing distance of that prick is even too much to handle, you don’t need to fret`’ Elle giggled.

Theo let out a chuckle.

He pulled her in for a quick hug and muttered “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” He glanced down at her.

She simply shook her head and they parted ways.

“See you later” Elle muttered.

Theo gave her a quick wave and she made her way back the other side of the carriage.

Before she could even reach the handle, she heard a shrill voice squeak.

“ Ellllllllllllllllllllllle!!!!!!!! Don’t leave yet we have so much to catch up on, I haven’t seen you ALL summer” Pansy was waving her back over the the compartment, with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Let her go, her presence alone makes me ill. I will never know why you would want to associate with a blood traitor like that” she heard a voice say angrily.

It was Malfoy.

She then heard a loud slapping noise, as Malfoy yelped “You dick, what was that for?”.

“You insult my sister, You’re going to get a slap” she heard Theo boldly announce.

“Drakey, I like Elle, she’s sweet” spoke pansy sweetly.

Elle thought to herself. ‘Drakey’. Gross. She would never fully understand how someone could be so in love with someone like Draco Malfoy.

Of course Pansy wasn’t the nicest of girls but surely she had standards.

But then again, the boy was a billionaire. And pansy was a gold-digger.

She understood now.

Ignoring pansy, she turned back to the door handle, twisting it abruptly and made her way back towards her compartment.

Upon arriving, she noticed the trio were in their uniform.

They must be approaching Hogwarts soon, she thought to herself.

Sliding open the door, she was met with a handful of hellos, as she entered the compartment.

Reaching up to her bag, she pulled put her robes.

“How did everything go with Theo? Did you get what you were looking for” she questioned.

“Yes. Everything’s fine” she stated.

Hermione stared at her.

“…and I remembered that I left that thing I was looking for in my room at home” she stuttered.

“Oh how suspicious, what was ‘that thing you were looking for’ exactly?” Ron questioned, with a brow raised.

Without missing a beat Elle replied “Tampons”.

Ron gulped nervously. Harry looked at Elle awkwardly, not wanting anymore information.

Hermione let out a giggle but stifled it with the back of her hand.

‘You see, I’ve been having a really heavy flow lately and I needed to make sure I had my tampons” Elle continued, knowingly making the boys uncomfortable.

Harry proceeded to stand up and leave the compartment.

Ron shoved his fingers in his ears and screamed “…IF I CANT HEAR YOU, YOUR NOT SPEAKING”

Elle giggled to herself with Hermione cackling beside her. Ron still screaming.

Realising the time, Elle pulled herself out of laughter and made her way towards the bathroom.

As she went to push open the door, it was pulled open from the inside.

Yet again she found herself face to face with the chocolate orbs of Cedric Diggory.

“Nice to see you again, although I thought it would be happening a lot later”. He smiled.

Elle giggled nervously. Mentally facepalming.

Plucking up some courage Elle stuttered ‘Twice in one day Mr Diggory, I think this is becoming a regular thing”.

‘where did that come from’ she thought to herself.

‘Is that so?’ Smirking at Elle, he moved closer. ‘For my sake, I hope that’s true” He gave her a cheeky wink and then walked away.

Did THE Cedric Diggory just wink at her?

She watched him walk down the carriage.

Smirking to herself, Elle walked into the bathroom.

She looked slowly into the mirror, smiled and muttered.

‘This is going to be a fun year at Hogwarts”.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy #cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagines

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years ago

Text

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension 1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?” Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression. “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!” His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

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ohshcscenerios · 4 years ago

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Find Me

Chapter Fourteen - Choose Your Own Adventure

Previous Poll Result: Kasanoda

It had taken a little over an hour but Kyoya finally arrived to the police station. By then they had already checked in Kaoru and taken him away to a holding cell. Hikaru was waiting at the front in a metal chair with defeated anguish shadowing him; hunched over his knees and his face buried in his hands. When he noticed Kyoya walk in he sprang to his feet and met him halfway in the waiting room.

“Where were you?” Hikaru barked, pointing a rigid finger at his raven haired friend. “They’ve already taken Kaoru away. I told them everything - the truth - but they still took him away. Where were you!”

Kyoya noticed his eyes were red and swollen’ evidence that he had broken down after Kaoru was arrested. His heart sank for his redheaded friend but he also knew he couldn’t have prevented, even if he arrived just in time. The local police don’t care to listen to aristocrats and usually scoff at their influence and power, claiming if they wanted to depend on their private police forces then the local police owed them nothing.

It wouldn’t have helped anyone if Kyoya walked in ready to wave his social status around like a badge to demand for Kaoru’s freedom. They wouldn’t have cared.

Kyoya raised his hands defensively and calmly tried to amend, “I apologize Hikaru, my father asked to speak with me before I left. I’m here now, how much do you know so far?”

Hikaru fisted his hands in anger but eventually took a deep breath and slouched his shoulders, “I don’t know anything, actually. They wouldn’t tell me why they suspect Kaoru or why they felt it necessary to arrest him. They wouldn’t even tell me who tipped them off.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses, “They won’t tell you who the anonymous tipper is, of course, but not disclosing their reason for arrest is suspicious.” Something within him told him there was more than what met the eye, that Kaoru wasn’t arrested on false suspicion. This was orchestrated, but for what reason?

And why him?

Kyoya pulled his cellphone out and dialed a number, holding up one finger asking for silence as he listened to it rang. He didn’t want to resort to calling this person but right now they were becoming desperate. He needed to secure a footing in this case before anyone else suffered.

“Kyoya, I’m surprised to hear from you.” Kasaonda greeted.

“You shouldn’t be too surprised considering what has happened.” Kyoya stated.

“Yes but I wasn’t expecting you to call me, with your private police force and all.”

“They’re basically useless by this point,” Kyoya grumbled, “I need your... expertise. The Ootori family hasn’t received any ransom demands from Haruhi’s kidnappers. They’ve remained silent this whole time.”

“That’s odd, they’d usually begin making demands by now.” Kasanoda commented off-handedly.

“I know. This is where I need you and your men. I wouldn’t drag you into my situation unless I absolutely needed to so that must tell you how desperate I am.”

“Well I don’t blame you. To be honest I’ve already sent out a few of my men in search of Haruhi when I heard about her kidnapping. They haven’t come up with anything but I’m pushing them out there.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Kyoya said calmly, somewhat relieved to hear that Kasaonda had acted a few steps ahead of him. He shouldn’t be surprised that the redheaded yakuza head sent out his men for it was no secret that he too cared for Haruhi.

“So what do you need from me?” Kasaonda asked.

Kyoya knew his father would greatly disapprove of the Ootori family partnering with yakuza, afraid it would blemish their respectable public image. Yoshio claimed they had no business with those who ate with dirty hands and Kyoya understood what he meant. Lying business partners, thieving employees, and yakuza - all pooled together as undesirable relations.

However Kyoya needed to forgo his standards if he was truly desperate to find Haruhi. He needed all the help he could find, even if that meant eating with dirty hands.

“Gather as much information as you can about your neighboring families. I understand it’s dangerous to expose the underground workings on yakuza but we cannot turn a blind eye to them.” Kyoya instructed.

“You’re right, it is dangerous... but I’ll do it. For Haruhi. I’ll call you when I’m ready to meet. Give me a few days.” With that Kasaonda hung up.

Kyoya closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket before addressing Hikaru who had been patiently standing in front of him.

“You called Kasanoda?” Hikaru asked, confused.

Kyoya nodded, “My father wouldn’t approve of the Ootori family getting involved with yakuza but by this point I don’t give a damn.”

“You two, you need to leave. Now.” A firm deep voice barked from behind them.

Kyoya and Hikaru turned around to see a tall officer standing in a doorway. Kyoya could barely make out a cemented hallway behind his looming figure.

The officer spoke again, “You can’t hang around here. Unless you have business here you need to leave.” He was wearing sunglasses but the pair could see his angry expression beyond them. Whoever this officer was, he was ordered to kick them out.

“Why was Kaoru Hitachiin arrested?” Kyoya asked blatantly.

The officer stiffened up a little, “We had reason to believe he was behind the murder of Ranka Fujioka and the evidence was-”

“What evidence?” Hikaru interrupted angrily, “Where the hell is this evidence?”

The officer snapped his fingers at Hikaru and warningly pointed at him, “Watch your mouth kid.”

“Please tell us what evidence you found that resulted to Kaoru’s arrest.” Kyoya said, trying his best to keep his calm composure. He didn’t appreciate how the officer was toying with them.

“We found a spare key to Fujioka’s apartment on his person. That was reason enough to believe he had access to the apartment.”

An odd ache welled in Kyoya’s chest. Something was wrong.

“What did the key look like?” He asked.

The officer sighed and walked to the front desk. He thumbed through a stack of papers in a manila folder before pulling out an enlarged picture of a key.

It was the same key Kyoya had found in the apartment. The exact same one.

Hikaru was watching over Kyoya’s shoulder and once the key was revealed he took a few steps backwards, completely stunned. “I thought you gave that key to your second commander.” He said quietly.

Kyoya furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the picture more closely, “I did.”

“Then how did it end up with Kaoru?” Hikaru asked angrily. He felt his physical strength draining and he needed to lean against the wall for balance. This... this was simply too much... it was too malicious.

Kyoya rubbed his aching right temple and sighed, “Isn’t it obvious? It was planted. Kaoru was framed”

He took a deep long breath and turned to leave, grabbing Hikaru’s wrist on his way out. This also meant not everyone in the Black Onion Squad was searching for Haruhi.

What should Kyoya do next? (Click to Vote) Should Kyoya bail Kaoru out of jail? (Click to Vote)

Things are still turning for the worst. Who can the hosts trust? Who is secretly their enemy? Is Haruhi even still alive? Choose wisely! Your votes directly affect future chapters!

Next update should be around 8:00pm (ETS). Polls will end one hour prior.

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #choose your own adventure #find me #tamak suoh #kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #vote #poll

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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I’m Pine-ing for You

A/N: The second chapter of my Christmas fic.

Christmas Mingle Masterlist

_* ◦ ❅ . ❄︎ * ∙ ◦ . _

Ariana Grande crooned over the tinny radio in the gift shop as Audrey browsed, trying to maximize her day off and finish the last of her Christmas shopping. It was futile, she knew that much, but she had bundled up for the cold weather and headed out to walk around Main Street, hoping some kind of good would come from searching. Even if all it yielded was a new candle for her apartment. Most of her family was generic enough to settle for giftcards from Target but she still went out, as if she would find something that anyone would appreciate more than the basic $25 card.

Just like every year though, she was browsing more for herself than anyone else, halfway through the display of handmade ceramic mugs, when she heard Jeff's familiar timbre. She'd only gone on one date with him so far but it didn't matter, she could probably pick out his voice in a line up. It was deep and not to raspy and she could've listened to him talk forever. But now that she thought about it, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to "run into" him here. And when she looked over toward the door she realized he was with his son. She hadn't seen any pictures of Charlie but if that tall-for-his-age kid beside Jeff wasn't his son she'd be shocked.

Audrey was in the back of the store, not poised to sneak out without having to walk right passed him. If there was one thing she truly hated it was running into people, something that happened a lot more frequently in her life now that she worked retail. There was nothing that compared to being trapped by an old school acquaintance as she rang up their groceries. She thought about turning and heading further into the store but there was no pretending that she hadn't seen Jeff, especially as her hand paused mid-grabbing a mug off the shelf, when he called her name.

"Christmas shopping?" Jeff asked, stepping up beside her in the narrow aisle of the shop.

"Well," Audrey looked over at him, "I tell myself that but honestly, I'm just shopping for me."

"Nothing wrong with that," he replied and Audrey cracked a smile.

"You're very agreeable, you know that?" She pointed out. He'd been the same on their date, agreeable on all fronts. About her divorce, her disinterest in her current job, her lack of enthusiasm for the Christmas season.

"Maybe we just agree on things?" He suggested.

"Well then, I know who to call for a second opinion." Audrey replied, glancing over to the small section of kids toys, Jeff's spitting image crouched on the ground looking over a puzzle, "Is that Charlie?" She didn't know if day-after-the-first-date was too soon to meet his son but it wasn't like he was formally introducing them so she didn't feel too bad about asking.

"Yeah that's Charlie," Jeff nodded, looking over, "kiddo's supposed to be helping me shop for other people's presents but it looks like he's picking out a few things to add to his list."

"Kid after my own heart," Audrey teased. "I'm not sure I could be of any actual help, Charlie and I seem to share a shopping gene, but I could lend a hand picking out some things if you want?" She wasn't sure that inviting herself to spend the afternoon with him was really an appropriate, normal thing to do, but she couldn't help herself. The words had come tumbling out of her mouth faster than she could think them. Something about Jeff just seemed to make the temptation of spending her day off completely by herself pale in comparison to spending the day with him. She couldn't remember a time when she felt this way about someone, even with Chris, even in the beginning when everything was new and supposedly exciting, she sought out moments when she could be alone.

"Alright, but I have two stipulations," Jeff replied, picking up one of the mugs to look it over, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I take the credit for all the gifts, and you provide the coffee."

"I provide the coffee? How is that fair? What are you providing?" Audrey said.

"The company." He shrugged as if it was totally obvious, Audrey laughing out loud, turning more toward him when the shopkeeper looked over at the sudden sound of them disturbing the ambiance of the store.

"It's a deal." She kept her voice down as she moved further down the aisle, pointing out a sun-catcher that was hanging on display. "Anyone?"

"Not even close." He replied. "I'm gonna rethink this deal if you can't hold up your end of the bargain."

"To be fair, you haven't given me any information to go on." Audrey pointed out, still holding onto the sun-catcher, contemplating a place for it in her own apartment.

Before Jeff could say anything else Charlie had found him, clutching a puzzle box to his chest he came over, stepping in front of his dad to show off his find. "Look, it's 1000 pieces...I've never done 1000 pieces before."

Audrey smiled, mouthing '1000 pieces' when Jeff caught her eye passed his son. He grinned and nodded, giving in to Charlie's request.

"Alright, we'll put it aside for break." He offered, taking the box from Charlie, "but you're supposed to be looking for something for something for your grandma."

"I am!" Charlie insisted.

"In the toy area?"

When Audrey snickered at Jeff's comment Charlie turned to look at her, a wide smile on his face at the sight of the stranger. "Hi."

"Hey." She greeted, smiling at the young boy.

"I'm Charlie," He introduced himself, holding his hand out to shake hers.

Audrey took the seven year old's hand, shaking as she introduced herself, "Audrey."

Never one to miss anything, Charlie had noticed the look that his dad had given Audrey immediately, even as he was talking about the puzzle that he wanted.

"How do you know my dad?" He asked blatantly.

"I, uh..."

"Audrey's a friend of mine," Jeff supplied, putting his hand on his son's shoulder to get his attention.

Charlie leaned his head back, looking up at Jeff and giving him a toothy grin. "Can she shop with us?" He asked.

"Well, don't ask me." Jeff replied.

"Can you shop with us?" Charlie asked, looking back at Audrey, "I need help picking a gift for my nana."

"I would love to help you."

Charlie stepped away from his dad, grabbing Audrey's hand to lead her away from Jeff and toward the back of the store. Audrey glanced back over her shoulder at Jeff, biting her lip as she smiled at him. Charlie was a well adjusted kid for his age, comfortable talking to adults happy to spend time hanging out with Jeff. He knew there were enough people in his son's life, family included, that pressured him about the way Charlie behaved. They wanted a kid that was less used to spending the majority of his week with his dad and they wanted Jeff to be more interested in dating and less interested in fathering his kid.

His mom had been thrilled, the night before, to babysit her grandson when she heard that Jeff had a date. It had been since his late wife passed away that he had gone out and before then she was the only one he had dated in years.

"It's just been so long," she had lamented, following her son into the kitchen, attempting a whisper as she spoke. "You deserve to be happy-"

"I am happy ma," Jeff promised, writing out any information she might need while he was gone. Phone numbers, the name of the restaurant he was going to, Charlie's pre-bed schedule.

"Happy with someone in your life. Someone who can help you raise Charlie. I know you don't agree but, he needs a mother figure."

"Charlie doesn't need a 'mother figure' and it's one date ma, I'm not gonna marry this woman."

"You don't know that." Jeff's mom replied, adamant on her stance about the date. She had been trying to convince Jeff to get back into dating for a few years now. She knew it was hard, losing his wife so quickly after Charlie was born, and she felt like she had waited an appropriate amount of time but, around two years ago, she had started dropping hints. Mentions here and there about women that she knew from church or even just 'eligible singles' that she saw at the grocery store. She had very little in the way of requirements.

"Please just watch him for the night and don't read too much into this?"

"Is it so wrong to be optimistic?" She asked, "it's been a long time since you've even considered dating."

"I'll call you on my way home, I'll just be down the street at the brewhouse."

Audrey crouched down so she could get a better look at the bottom shelf of the display where Charlie was checking out a few different glass blown ornaments. She reached for one, a red teardrop shaped ornament that was crackled and, when she held it up to the light, glistened.

"That's really pretty!" Charlie exclaimed, taking it from her when she handed it over to him.

"I think so too," Audrey replied, "what do you think about it as a gift?"

"I don't know," he pouted, nose scrunching as he inspected the ornament in greater detail, "dad, would nana like this?"

"Is there a pink one in there?" Jeff asked, looking over from the display of candles he'd been going through. He liked everything about Christmas aside from having to buy gifts for people. Charlie was easy, he always knew what his son wanted. It was everyone else that gave him a headache. "She'll probably love that."

Charlie dug through the box of ornaments, careful that nothing broke, successfully pulling out a pink one, "I found a pink one!"

Audrey took the red one back, turning it over in her hand once more before putting it back in the box.

"You should get that one." Charlie pointed out, "you could put it on your tree."

"Oh gosh," Audrey laughed, "I actually don't have a tree." She confessed.

Putting up a tree had been the least of her worries this year, not even a table top had made it's way into her house though she'd spent plenty of time on pinterest and instagram scrolling through the holiday decorations of influencers who's lives appeared much more together than her own.

"No tree?" Charlie looked absolutely offended at the thought of anyone not having a tree for Christmas, "dad! Dad!"

"Yeah bud?" Jeff asked, tearing his attention away from a case of handmade necklaces that he shouldn't have been looking through so early on in knowing Audrey when it was clearly her he had in mind.

"Audrey doesn't have a tree," the disbelief, even as he repeated what he already knew, was on par with the discovery of Santa's fraudulence. "We can get you a tree?" He reasoned, turning back to look at her, wide, eager eyes.

"I really don't have a lot of ornaments." Audrey admitted.

The first time she had told Chris that she needed space they had both assumed that she would be back within the month. But then two months passed and three months and she drove passed the house but it felt foreign to her. So she said it again, she needed space, mountains of it, years of it, more space than he could ever give her. And when she set foot inside the house for the last time to take what she deemed hers from a short lifetime of theirs, she left all but a shoebox of decorations.

"Oh well," Jeff was smiling at her like whatever he said she'd be hanging on, "you happen to be in the presence of the best ornament chooser in the entire world." He pointed to Charlie as he spoke, indicating it was the seven year old who possessed all the expertise of Christmas decoration.

"Really?" She attempted her best look of skepticism as Charlie nodded his head in agreement with his father.

"Dad buys me a new ornament every year that I pick out all on my own." He replied as proof of his skill.

Audrey agreed, unable to say no to Charlie. He was too sweet and she was enjoying spending time with him and Jeff too much. It was arguably some sort of honeymooning phase, she reasoned, that had her this invested in a guy that she had only been on one date with but she couldn't help it. This was just a for the holidays thing, a see where this goes, nothing special, thing that didn't have too mean too much. She didn't have to read too much into every look and every touch, didn't have to take everything so seriously, and still she was eagerly agreeing to spending the rest of her afternoon with Jeff and Charlie.

"I gotta tell you Charlie," Audrey said as she walked through the Christmas tree lot with him, "I am no tree expert. I haven't had a real tree since I was a kid."

"That's okay," he promised, "I'm the best tree chooser there is."

Jeff walked just behind the pair, listening to his son discuss the important parts of the tree and how to pick the best one, talking with such authority that his bullshitting was almost believable. Once Charlie got started on a topic it was nearly impossible for him to stop and he loved showing off whatever knowledge he might have, be it minimum or not.

"Expert ornament chooser and expert tree chooser?" Audrey asked, glancing back at Jeff with amusement. Jeff grinned back at her.

"What can I say?" Charlie replied, "Christmas is the best time of the year."

"I can't argue with that."

"Besides, if you don't get a tree then how is Santa going to bring you presents?" Charlie asked, a look of distress washing over his features as his eyes met hers. The thought had just occurred to him and yet it was a troubling one.

"That explains the lack of gifts the last few years...I think Santa is still delivering all my presents to my parents' house." She teased.

"Do you live by yourself?" Charlie asked, intrigued by the new development.

If Jeff was eager to learn more about Audrey than Charlie was tenfold. He asked questions about her job and her house and what her favorite Christmas activity was. Jeff wasn't sure if it was just her being too polite to ignore Charlie's questions or if she was truly interested in what he had to say but she listened and chatted. Dating hadn't been something that Jeff had kept at the top of his to-do list and he definitely hadn't introduced too many people to his son. A few close friends, those that knew him before his wife passed away, but no one that he seriously considered spending his life with. Not that he was thinking that far in advance now but getting to know Audrey was definitely something he wanted to continue doing.

The three of them circled the tree lot more times then Jeff felt necessary, scouring rows of evergreens that he was sure they had already examined until Charlie finally spotted the spruce that he wanted. He let out a shout of exclamation at the sight and broke out in a dash as if someone else might discover the tree before he could reach it. "This one!" He announced, standing in front of the tree and waving his arms to draw their attention to it.

"That one is..." Audrey looked at the tree on display, imagining the trip up the stairs and sheer mass of it sitting in her small apartment, "big." It seemed like the only logical adjective to describe the tree she was staring at.

"Big trees are the best trees." Charlie insisted, "you can get the most ornaments on."

"Maybe you can, I'm still lacking in the ornament department." Audrey replied. A shoebox full was not enough for a tree that was threatening six feet tall. She'd been hoping that the seven year old would settle on something more akin to a tabletop but he seemed determined that the green giant was going to be part of Audrey's Christmas.

"We can get you more ornaments."

"Don't fight it," Jeff teased, coming up beside her. His hand fell to the small of her back, turning just slightly toward her so that he could whisper in her ear, away from Charlie's heightened hearing, "he's never gonna give in."

"I think I've already figured that one out." Audrey replied, looking at Jeff, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Tree decided on, Charlie was as determined as ever to find ornaments that would go perfectly. He insisted that they not be too uniform, complaining, at seven, about the odd need for trees on television shows to have a ribbon woven through them. The strong opinions he had about Christmas were entertaining, to say the least, and Audrey didn't fight them. She had been content without all the fuss, happy to let Christmas happen the same way that it did every year but now she found herself letting Jeff haul a tree up her steps and into her apartment.

Charlie seemed as enamored by her tiny house as he did by her, rushing to the window to look out on the street that he'd walked around on a hundred times. "Dad!" He called, face close to the window pane, unbothered by the hint of cold that seeped in through the the old wood and glass.

Jeff let the tree slide off his shoulder, leaning the tree that was as tall as he was against his chest as he looked over at his son, "what's up Charlie?"

Audrey locked the door behind them, bags in one hand as she kicked her shoes off. She had stopped for some ornaments along the way, practically clearing out her Target's Christmas section. Marci had eyed her suspiciously as she checked out, fully aware of Audrey's disdain for the holiday season. She had ignored her co-worker though, rushing through self-checkout as quickly as possible so that she could avoid making Jeff and Charlie wait too long outside of her apartment.

"Look!" Charlie called, waving Jeff over as if the tree wasn't heavy and unstable. "You can see Main Street."

"You should stay for dinner and see it at night with all the lights." Audrey replied, setting the bags down on the couch as she went over to help Jeff, "I can't believe you guys stopped and got a tree stand too."

"You can't have a tree without a tree stand." Jeff shrugged, "that seemed pretty obvious. Tree, tree stand, ornaments..."

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Audrey laughed, setting up the stand.

While Jeff did most of the assembly in getting the tree in the stand and cutting it loose from the netting, Charlie rummaged through the bags of ornaments, sorting them into groups that he decided went together. The tree didn't take as long as Audrey thought it would but it did look a lot better in her apartment then she had first suspected when Charlie had spied it in the lot. Though it blocked a decent amount of her window view, the ornaments looked pretty with the lights and she had even brought out the shoebox of special ones that she kept in her bedroom.

"Some of these are pretty old, they belonged to my great grandma." Audrey explained, setting the box on the coffee table and opening it up for Charlie to see.

"This one is so cool!" He held up a blue bobble, handpainted with a horse and carriage in the snow. "My grandma got me an ornament decorating kit and I painted one with a Christmas tree."

"I bet it looks really awesome," Audrey replied, taking the ornament from him so she could hang it up a little higher.

"You should come over to see it!" Charlie looked thrilled at his idea, turning to his father in excitement, "what do you think dad? Could Audrey come over soon?"

Jeff looked over Charlie's head to Audrey, their eyes meeting as Audrey smiled. It seemed a natural occurrence when she was around Jeff though she didn't want to let herself think too hard on the matter.

"I don't see why not." Jeff finally said.

"Well, since you're here now, what should we get for dinner tonight?" Audrey asked, taking another ornament from Charlie to hang up.

"Pizza!" He replied without hesitation.

"Pizza it is," She agreed, stepping away from the tree to grab her phone, "any toppings?"

Dinner was served on the coffee table, the three of them sitting on the couch to watch TV, Charlie choosing It Happened on 5th Avenue as his Christmas movie of choice. He sat between them, enthralled in the film, announcing favorite scenes just before they happened. Audrey had steered clear of cliche Christmas films like It's a Wonderful Life or Love Actually for a while, longer that she had been single. She never cared for them and always found them cheesy and ridiculous. The leads falling in love all within a week, enamored with each other as if there was no one else in the world. As if falling in love at Christmas solved all their problems. But here she was, watching this old black and white film and actually enjoying it.

It was nearly three quarters of the way through when Jeff felt Charlie slump against him more that he glanced down, realizing that his son had fallen asleep. Audrey seemed to pick up on Charlie's sleeping around the same time, pausing the film and asking if wanted to let Charlie nap in her bed. "Unless you two need to get home?"

"We can stay a little while longer," Jeff replied, reluctant to go as it was.

While he carried Charlie into the bedroom, laying him on the bed and covering him with a blanket, Audrey cleared away the pizza and closed the front window. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and two glasses, meeting Jeff back in the living room.

"Wine?"

"What've you got?" Jeff asked, taking the bottle from her.

"Just a red, it's from a subscription I get every month." She replied, "I could be paying for a gym but-"

"Wine is better than a gym," Jeff concluded, heading back to the couch with her. She let him pour the glasses, a little heavy handed though so was she. "I was thinking about what you said, about looking for something that wasn't working at Target."

"My glamorous part time job...what about it?" Audrey asked, taking a sip of her wine.

"The art teacher at Charlie's school is going on maternity leave and I heard they posted the job online. I'm not trying to overstep or anything, just saw it and thought of you."

"Well, I'm flattered that you thought of me. I'll look into it." She replied, "part of me would love it, honestly, and the other part is terrified to actually do something like that. I feel everything has moved really slowly but quickly at the same time for me."

"I know the feeling well. Don't feel like you need to consider anything just cause I mentioned it." Jeff replied, "take everything at your own pace."

"I'll never move forward if I do that." Audrey admitted.

"Well hey, nothing needs to be decided now...I mean, Christmas break is right around the corner."

"That's right, you have finals for your semester don't you?" Audrey asked. She wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to her the entire time that they were out shopping or looking for a tree but it was as if she suddenly remembered that Jeff had actual work when class hours ended.

"Coming up, yeah." He nodded. "I'll be spending the next four days prepping and grading essays."

"I'll trade you bitchy, impatient customers who think I'm secretly stashing all the stuff they want so they can't find it?" Audrey offered.

"Now that you mention it, the papers are fine." He replied, smiling at her as he took a sip of wine, "so this party coming up? It's your co-worker's?"

"Co-worker/best friend."

"How did that come about...if you don't mind my asking?"

"I guess, all my other friends are friends with Chris too you know? They knew us when we were dating, as our relationship progressed, they went to our wedding. When I left him and it wasn't for any "good" reason, I think they felt like I was overreacting." Audrey admitted. Even more than leaving and telling Chris she was never coming home, she could remember the distinct heartache that had followed her falling out with her best friend. The way Leah had accused her of being dramatic and foolish and told her that she was blowing things out of proportion. "I mean, he didn't cheat on me, he wasn't some awful guy...a little controlling sometimes but not to the magnitude of telling me what I could and couldn't do."

"If you don't love someone, you don't love someone. You can't stay in a relationship just because they're 'not a bad guy'." Jeff replied.

"I feel bad telling you about all this honestly," she confessed, "I'm trying to divorce my husband, you lost your wife, that's...I feel silly having such superficial problems."

"It's not superficial." He reassured. "I met Hannah in my early 30's after I had broken up with a woman who wanted me to propose to her."

"Oh no," Audrey laughed, "you were one of those!"

Jeff nodded, "thought I didn't want commitment, I think I just, didn't feel like I knew what I wanted. But, I met Hannah through friends and we took things slow until she basically told me to propose or get out-"

"I like her."

"She was great. You know, it's hard...she passed away around the holidays. It would've been our first Christmas with Charlie." He replied, "I thought about not celebrating...took me weeks to put up a tree. He won't remember any of that but, it felt like something I had to do."

"For Charlie or for yourself?"

"Both of us, I guess. I didn't want him to feel like Christmas had this awful connotation, you know? I didn't want him to grow up feeling like he couldn't celebrate and he had to be sad."

"When I moved out of my house with Chris it was just, easier not to celebrate. It was just me and it felt ridiculous to decorate this little apartment." Audrey admitted, looking over at the tree in front of the window, "seeing the tree up though, I kinda missed that."

"If you let Charlie come back again he'll probably put gifts under it for you just to make sure it looks official."

"Charlie is awesome, you have an amazing kid."

"Thank you, I think so most of the time." Jeff laughed.

9 Days Until Christmas

"I gotta say, the cowboy boots are a touch I wasn't expecting." Jeff laughed as Audrey stepped out the front door of her apartment. She did a twirl, showing off the outfit she was wearing beneath her plaid coat.

"Would you believe me if I told you they were a Footloose impulse buy after high school graduation?" Audrey asked.

Not everything feels like something else, but holding on to a pair of red cowboy boots that went with nothing in her wardrobe simply because of the sentimentality felt a lot like being stuck in place. When she came back for her things, letting herself into the old house with two suitcases that her mom had been reluctant to give away ("can't you just work it out? Have you even tried?"), she had almost left them. Sitting there on the bottom of her shoe rack, accumulating the dust that was inevitable for something so rarely worn, she had thought of letting them go too. Was it symbolic? To leave both the boots and Chris behind? But she could bring herself to leave them the way she had left her marriage so she carried them out to the car and put them in the front seat and then, three years and five months later she wore them to a Kacey Musgraves concert with Cady.

"Can't say I'm a fan of the film." Jeff admitted.

"Is that your way of telling me that you don't recognize Ariel's iconic red cowboy boots?" And now she wore them again. Red cowboy boots paired with black stockings, a jean skirt that fit the persona of Midwest Christmas she was trying to pull off, and a sweater that was cuter then it was ugly. Pink with white pompoms and a sequined Jolly Old Saint Nick. Cady's holiday party would inevitably be as country as she wished she was and Audrey had every intention oof dressing for it.

"It is." Jeff replied, "but you look beautiful." Audrey had mentioned her best friend's proclivity for all things Tennessee Christmas but that had done little to influence Jeff's outfit. Dark jeans and a cable knit sweater with boots. Nothing entirely special in the outfit, and Audrey had never been one to give men's fashion too much thought, but he certainly looked good. "I feel like I should've dressed the part more." He took Audrey's hand in his as they made the short trek across the street and down to the small parking lot a block away.

"That's okay, when we inevitably sneak away from the party because, god love her but Cady's 'Yeehaw Christmas' is a little more than I think I can bear, you'll look like a normal person and I'll look-"

"Like you're in middle school?" Jeff teased.

"Exactly like that," Audrey replied.

Comical as it was, Yeehaw Christmas was the perfect describer for the party that they walked into. Cady had outfitted her shared apartment with decorations that looked as if they had been purchased at Cabellas or maybe just a Dollar General. Cady's wasn't the only party a friend had invited Audrey to this season but it was the only one she committed to, at least, making an appearance at. Her other friends were friends with Chris and she knew he would be there too, as if it was all some elaborate plot to convince her that maybe she had made a mistake when she decided that they no longer fit in each other's lives.

"You made it!" Cady shouted across the room, rushing over to wrap Audrey in a hug. Ten years made little difference to either of them. The idea of meeting your best friend at a retail job seemed like something that truly only happened on TV but Cady had been the lifeboat back to normalcy after the heartache. "Oh god, I'm so glad you came!"

"I said I was." Audrey insisted, pulling away from Cady. She was standing slightly in front of Jeff and when her eyes met Cady's she shifted her gaze subtly to the side, a look that screamed, 'I brought him'.

Cady's eyes shifted over to Jeff, brushing her blond hair back as she looked up at him. He was taller than her. Like a tower. He was taller than Audrey and she was relatively tall, or so everyone always felt the need to say when she wore heels. Before she could say anything Audrey continued, introducing them. "Cady, this is Jeff. Jeff, my best friend Cady.

"Thanks for letting me tag along." Jeff replied, handing over the bag that contained a small hostess invitation. "Audrey said you don't do wine."

Cady took the bag from him, pulling out a bottle of grey goose. "Thank you! This is the best Christmas present ever!" She joked.

More partygoers came, allowing Audrey and Jeff a break from Cady as they made their way over to the kitchen and the counter space that was doubling as a bar for the evening. There were cheap flavored vodkas, tequila, whiskey, gin, and some bottles of red wine stuffed into the small space between the sink and the fridge.

"Guess we have our pick?" Audrey asked, looking over her shoulder at Jeff.

"I'll stick with the whiskey, seems like a safe option." He replied, "only cause I've heard of the brand."

"What? No peppermint mocha vodka?" Audrey said, trying and failing not to sound completely grossed out by the suggestion of the flavor.

Jeff laughed, "tell you what, if you do a shot I will do a shot."

Audrey grabbed two shot glass sized red solo cups, never one to back down from a challenge, and poured the vodka in them. Truthfully, she just wanted to see him drink something as ridiculous as Christmas themed vodka simply because he struck her entirely as a classy kind of drinker, even his beer on their first date had felt superior to all those cheap brands she'd snuck in high school. He was game for just about anything though, proving it as he kicked back a shot of the sweet liquor, feeling the faint burn of it down the back of his throat.

"Can't say I love feeling like I just tossed a whole pack of spearmint gum in my mouth and lit it on fire." Jeff commented, sticking his tongue out for a second as if that would get rid of the taste. Audrey coughed around her shot, almost losing it but swallowing at the last second. She gagged and shook her head furiously at the tiny cup in her hand.

"No." She finally said. "No, that was terrible."

"It was bad."

"It was...oh god, I need something after that." She replied.

Jeff shifted bottles around until he found a decent red nestled in the back. "How's this?" He grabbed two cups from the stack, filling them a little more than he would a wine glass.

"Works for me."

She took his arm, pulling him passed the fridge and a little further into the kitchen as people came in to grab drinks. Jeff moved with her, turning so his back was to the other couple and the two of them were in their own little corner. Audrey looked passed him, watching as a few more people came and went from the kitchen.

"I really didn't feel like I was going to feel old being here but I totally do." Audrey muttered.

"You feel old?" Jeff scoffed, "how do you think I'm feeling right now?" He brushed his hand through his hair to draw attention to the strands of gray there among the black.

"Well, don't worry, I have no plans to stay the whole time," Audrey whispered as if someone would overhear her, "I love Cady but she can go forever if she's drunk enough and I definitely think she's on her way there."

Jeff opened the door to Charlie's room, the dinosaur nightlight in the corner glowing and painting the room a dim yellow. The party had been a short lived experience followed by a quick meal at a diner down the street from Cady's apartment. He and Audrey had sat there in the booth against the window, the conversation easy over burgers and fries.

It had been fun, good even, to go out with Audrey and go to a stupid holiday party. Everything was fine until he walked in the front door. His mom was in the living room watching an old Christmas special, a million questions on the tip of her tongue when he came inside. He'd managed to dodge most of them, skirting around details and specifics as he rushed her out the door and promised that he'd see her soon. He wasn't completely sure that he was ready to divulge details about Audrey to his mother.

Back in his own room, Jeff sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling off his sweater and undershirt and tossing them over to the hamper. His eyes landed on the picture that sat on the dresser, the same picture he'd looked at a million times in the last seven years. It was a picture of him and Hannah on their wedding day, close enough that the bottom of her dress was cut off but it didn't matter, he could remember everything about that moment. That day had felt like a godsend, the moment in his life when everything felt like it was going right and he was finally on the right path. Jeff stood up, crossing the room and taking the picture off the dresser to look at it closer.

Audrey popped into his unprompted as he stared down at the picture of his late wife. Was moving on something that he really wanted? He'd thought about it before but it never felt like the right time. He never felt ready to let go of Hannah's memory or the love he had for her. But he knew there was something different about Audrey. He didn't feel so much like loving her would be giving up Hannah. Something he hadn't felt once in the last seven years. Something he felt like he had to hold onto.

#christmas mingle series

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yellowcanna · 4 years ago

Text

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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◅ PREV MAIN NEXT ▻

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CHAPTER 14

STRAYS (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight, Nanami_ontheShore, Shady Spades

Dazai sat comfortably in his seat as he looked towards the stage, his eye meeting a pair of sky blue ones. Bathed within the red light, nobody noticed the faint trail of a crimson glow slowly disappearing from the singer’s body.

Chuuya was smiling at the crowds and even talked to some of the audience that ran too close to the stage despite the line of waiters holding them back. Somewhere in the back, someone even threw him a can of beer, which he caught with ease before waving in that direction.

The man down there was like a star shining brilliantly in the night sky.

Yet only Dazai knew that, right now, every movement Chuuya made was carefully calculated. No matter how he stood or where he was seemingly looking towards, he made sure that Dazai was well within his sight. Despite how relaxed he may look, there was no question that the Executive would spring into action the second danger towards his boss was detected.

Chuuya walked off the stage, tossing the microphone to Tachihara who took his place.

The music picked up again, pulling the crowd's attention away from Chuuya as the redhead made his way back into the VIP section.

As soon as Chuuya returned, Dazai dismissed the guards around him, leaving the space for only the two of them.

The brunet patted his knees, but the redhead stopped right in front of him with his arms crossed.

“What’s wrong, Chuuya?” Dazai blinked his large, chocolate brown eye at his lover expectantly. “You were so docile before!”

“You want to see how docile I am?” Chuuya gritted, cracking his knuckles to loosen his joints.

“You never know who might be watching, we need to keep the act up!”

“There’s no one watching,” Chuuya retorted.

“They could from that giant hole in the wall.”

“You mean that?” Chuuya huffed proudly as he gestured towards the wall he had thrown the League of Villains through. The hole was already filled up by broken pieces of bricks, smashed together and squeezed into the hole until not even the smallest gap could be found.

“Uwaah…” Dazai made a disgusted face. “I bet interior designers all over the world are crying in joy that Chuuya didn’t become a construction worker.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya felt a vein on his forehead throb. It was a miracle his veins haven't popped yet. "I'd like to see you do better, you shitty—mmh!”

While the Executive was distracted, Dazai reached up, a nimble finger hooking onto the silver ring on the redhead’s choker, and pulled him down. Chuuya stumbled as he fell over Dazai, but he swiftly put a knee between his boss’s legs and a hand on each side of the brunet’s head to stop them from colliding.

Chuuya moaned into a pair of lips that smothered against his, with a wet tongue slipping into his mouth without any warning. Rough, calloused hands caressed his hips before they slipped under his tank top to feel his abs.

The redhead shivered at the touch before pulling away.

Dazai didn’t stop him. He just sighed in disappointment and licked his lips that were moist from the shorter man’s saliva.

“You know, Chuuya.” He looked up to the redhead who was fixing his clothes despite how it didn’t matter since they were in a club and the other wasn’t in his usual suit. “Maybe I should demote you and have you become my personal dog. That way, I can have you on my lap day and night.”

“I would like to ask the boss to please reconsider, as the Port Mafia cannot afford to lose a valuable asset such as Chuuya-sama.”

The boss and his right-hand man turned to see an elderly man making his way up the stairs.

“Ah, Hirotsu-san,” Dazai greeted cheerfully, “did you enjoy your vacation?”

“It was quite eventful.” Hirotsu bowed to his boss before turning to Chuuya. “Your performance tonight was spectacular, Chuuya-sama.”

"At least someone appreciates my effort," Chuuya moved to stand by his boss's side.

“Well then, tell me about your reports, Hirotsu,” the Port Mafia boss said as he got comfortable in his chair.

Hirotsu reached into his coat and pulled out a large yellow envelope. Chuuya stepped forward to take it before passing it to his boss.

The first thing the two of them saw when Dazai pulled out the papers was the picture stapled on the first page. She was a young girl about the age of six or seven with bluish silver hair, crimson eyes, and a horn on the right side of her forehead.

“I have confirmed that the Shie Hassaikai is indeed creating a drug capable of destroying Quirks. The drug is created using the flesh of Chisaki Kai’s adoptive daughter, Eri.”

“Flesh?” Chuuya raised a brow. “So it’s a Quirk?”

“Yes. The girl’s Quirk is to rewind the time of living beings.”

"Which means with proper adjustments her Quirk can directly attack the virus within the host's bloodstream and completely erase the virus from the body without damaging the body itself," Dazai hummed as he flipped through the documents.

“It is quite similar to the vaccine first created when Quirk began to appear,” Hirotsu nodded.

“But now, those vaccines will only kill them,” Chuuya pointed out. “Since the second generation, the bodies of those outsiders started to merge with the virus and now it is part of their genetics. There's no way of reversing that process without killing them.”

“Yet this girl can rewind the time of the genetic structure of the body to separate the virus without taking their life.” Dazai smiled before his eye snapped to Hirotsu. “How far along is the development of this drug?”

“I would say at eighty percent," Hirotsu replied. “The current drug created by Shie Hassaikai can only temporarily remove a host’s Quirk for six to seven hours.”

“And?” Dazai tossed the documents onto the table. “Surely you’ve brought me the finished product.”

Hirotsu bowed before setting a black briefcase onto the table. He unlocked the case with a finger scanner then swiftly keyed in the passwords.

The case unlocked with a light click.

Spinning the briefcase around, Hirotsu laid it down and opened it to reveal five syringes. Each syringe was within a vacuum-sealed bag and filled with crimson fluid.

“During my infiltration, I had taken some of the incomplete drugs as well as some samples from the girl and brought it to the laboratory yesterday evening. These are the completed versions that the lab has created.”

“So they only needed one day to finish what Shie Hassaikai had been trying for years,” Chuuya snorted. Organized crime in the outside world is getting worse and worse as the years go by. It was also stupid of the Shie Hassaikai to sell the drug when it was still incomplete. Did they think they wouldn't catch unwanted attention? Or were they that confident in thinking they were the only ones capable of creating the drug just because they had the material?

Dazai reached forward and took out one of the syringes. He squinted his eyes to get a closer look at the drug inside. While the colour was the same as blood, the density was closer to water’s.

“Have these been tested on Ability users?”

"No," Hirotsu replied. “According to the head scientist, this drug only targets the body's DNA which the viruses reside in.”

“That I’m sure.” The brunet agreed as he put the syringe back into the case. “But nevertheless, we can never be too careful. Give these to Ryuunosuke-kun and have him test it out on Ability users. If by some miracle it does have the power to destroy Ability…”

Dazai’s eye narrowed, losing the warm light it held before and took a colder, crueler quality.

“Kill the girl and burn the Shie Hassaikai to the ground.”

“Yes, boss.” Hirotsu bowed. Recognizing his boss’s dismissal, he took his briefcase and headed off to complete the first task he was assigned since returning to work.

Chuuya watched Hirotsu leave before looking over to Dazai who was lazily flipping through the documents scattered on the table while humming a light tune.

“You seem pretty happy,” the redhead noted.

“Can you blame me?” Dazai grinned at his right-hand man. “It’s been a while since someone dared to blatantly scheme in front of me like that, especially when the schemer is as easy to read as an open book. I can’t help but play along~”

“Play along?” Chuuya narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word that came out of his boss’s mouth. “You mean manipulating them to play along with your shit? And don’t fucking tell me that making me sing on stage every Tuesday for the past three months was just for this!”

“How could you accuse me of that, Chuuya!” Dazai gasped with his hands flying over his heart. “I truly enjoyed watching you sing every night. Chuuya’s like a shining star on stage!”

Another vein popped out from Chuuya’s forehead. As much as he wanted to slam his fist into this man’s gut right here and now, he knew he couldn’t. They were in public, they had an image to keep up.

“So? What’s with those kids?” Chuuya snapped, changing the subject.

“Chuuya, even if they have eighth-grader syndrome with dreams of destroying the world, calling them kids is a bit—”

“I’m talking about those Hero kids,” Chuuya corrected. “The ones from U.A. You purposely led them here at this time and knew I would have no choice but to let them out the backdoor.”

“I did promise their principal to show them around Yokohama," Dazai smirked. “What kind of guide would I be if I didn’t let them enjoy Yokohama to the fullest?”

Chuuya snorted at the poor excuse. He didn’t care that Dazai didn't answer his question, as he already has a clue as to what that was about. After all, that person was doing his mission nearby. Although the chances of them accidentally running into one another were slim, if a certain scheming bastard manipulated this…

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Seven Months Ago—Port Mafia Headquarters

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BOOOOOOOOOOM

The sounds of explosions resonated through the air, shaking the entire building as dark smoke stretched towards the night sky.

“Fire! Shoot it down!”

“The barrier’s been damaged!”

“What are they doing?! Why isn’t the barrier restored yet?!”

“The system’s been jammed! We can’t operate it!”

"Another one's coming!"

"GET DOWN!!"

Within the darkness, a missile flew down from the sky, slicing through the wind as it aimed towards one of the five Port Mafia buildings. The missile slipped through the hole in the barrier the first missile had created, slamming into the side of the building as crimson flames erupted, followed by the sound of explosion.

Alarms echoed across the halls as sprinklers were immediately activated to put out the flames.

Men and women ran towards where the explosion had occurred to help put out the fire.

A man cloaked in black rushed down the hallway, his body almost becoming a blur as he flew down the stairs and arrived at the floors that had suffered the most from the explosion.

“Senpai!” a blond-haired woman gasped as she did her best to catch up to her superior. “Senpai! It’s too dangerous, please head back!” she shouted after him, but the man did not listen to her words.

The explosion had annihilated the hallways of three floors, but that wasn’t important at all. What’s important was the room at the end of the middle hallway.

He ran into the fire, one hand holding a cloth over his nose and mouth to protect his lungs from the heavy smoke. When he arrived at the room, his eyes flew wide at the metallic door that had been completely blasted off its hinge, distorted and leaning against the corner.

His cloak fluttered around him as he walked into the room. Silver eyes narrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. Aside from one side of the wall completely blasted away by the explosion, the remainder of the room was pretty much undamaged.

The man looked over to the bed, then to the collection of large stuffed animal toys. Activating his Ability, black tendrils shot out of his coat, stabbing into the bed, toys, and closets—tearing everything apart.

The blond woman finally caught up, panting heavily as she walked into the room. She wasn’t given the time to take in what the room looked like before her eyes shifted to the missing wall where the outside world was visible to her eyes.

“Senpai!” She cried as the man whirled around, looking up to the sky where a giant whale was swimming beneath the sea of stars.

They were only able to see the barrier around the headquarters materialize for a split second before multiple explosions blasted over the surface of the barrier. For a minute straight, the barrier was engulfed in flames, casting crimson light upon those inside the building.

Everyone shielded their eyes as the barrier protected the building from being touched by the scorching flames. When the flames finally disappeared, all that was left was the crumbling pieces of the barrier. When the raven-haired man looked back up to the sky, the whale was gone.

“So this was what they were after.” The man gritted his teeth as he stormed out of the room, stepping over a framed TV in the process, completely shattering the screen under the pressure of his foot. “Higuchi, send out an order. They couldn’t have gotten far with Q. Send out all men to find Q and kill them on sight.”

“Yes!” The woman hurriedly did as she was told. She tapped onto the Bluetooth in her right ear and commanded, “Abandon all battle stations! Q has been captured by the Guild! All personnel are to find Q and kill on sight!!”

From another building identical to the one that had suffered from the bombing, a man in a black suit and a red scarf stared at the bright flames lighting up the night.

“Boss, please step away from the window! The barrier is gone, it’s dangerous!” the men around him fretted, but the brunet just waved them off.

“It’s fine. They can’t see anything from the outside.”

“But—” The men looked like they wanted to argue, but a sharp glare from their boss silenced them as they remembered their place.

“Boss.”

“Ah, ane-san.” Dazai smiled when he saw Kouyou speed walking over to him. The men surrounding him backed away, making room for their Executive.

“Where’s Chuuya?” She furrowed her brows, instantly noticing the lack of a petite redhead. Ever since Chuuya had become Dazai’s right-hand man, the two were barely ever seen being apart.

“Chuuya is checking on the barrier," Dazai replied. “Do you need something, ane-san?”

"The Guild has Q," Kouyou informed her boss with a grave look on her face. “Please follow me into the safe room until the situation is dealt with.”

“Ah-ah~” Dazai sighed, but obediently followed Kouyou down the hall with men surrounding the two as protection. “I leave the headquarters’ defense to Ryuunosuke-kun and this is the result. Looks like he’ll need some more discipline once the Guild’s been dealt with.”

“The missiles accurately targeted the room Q was confined in,” Kouyou frowned, not as easy going as her boss. “I’m afraid we may have a traitor amongst us.”

“Hm…” Dazai hummed, “There’s no need to worry, ane-san. I’m sure everything will work out.”

Kouyou glanced over her shoulder to her boss. Questions were swirling in her eyes, but the Executive kept her silence and continued leading the way.

It was only after they began descending the spiral of stairs that she spoke again.

"The Guild has crossed the line by directly attacking us," Kouyou said as they arrived at the lowest floor. She waved off the men around them and led Dazai down a long hallway. “Do you still refuse to let us step in?”

“I told you, ane-san. Taking down the Guild is Atsushi-kun and Ryuunosuke-kun’s job,” Dazai said, stopping in front of a door. The two guards standing by the door bowed at his presence as Dazai’s fingers danced swiftly across the number pad.

After scanning his palm, the doors opened, one layer after another. The moment Dazai stepped inside, the doors slammed shut, clicking sounds echoing in the air as the locks were being put back into place.

Dazai strolled into the simple underground chamber. The most elaborate thing here was the bed and chandelier. He leaned over a handrail, humming as he gazed up at the chandelier hanging directly above his large bed. He should find some time to replace that obnoxious thing.

Dazai blinked, seeming slightly surprised before he stifled a small laugh.

“Four years ago, the first thing that would have come across my mind would be how perfect it is for hanging.” Dazai snorted at his own change as he walked to his bed and plopped onto the king-size mattress. Or perhaps he could sabotage the chandelier and have it fall on him while having a peaceful sleep.

“If you want to die that badly, I can come and finish you off,” a sarcastic voice came from the black Bluetooth in the Port Mafia boss’s ear. “How does the curb sound to you, shitty boss?”

“And leave Chuuya to become a widow?” Dazai smirked as he folded his hands behind his head. “I trust that you haven’t been caught?”

“Who the hell do you think I am?”

In the other building, a short man in a black suit and fedora kicked down the iron door. He emerged from his hiding spot with his hands tucked in his pockets. Despite the entire place being charred and dusty, there wasn’t a speck of dirt on his body.

“As if I’d get caught by that apprentice of yours,” Nahakara Chuuya snorted as he walked into the room that looked as if a beast had been rampaging in it. Everything that could hide a person had been violently torn apart and thrown onto the ground.

“Looks like I wasn’t needed,” he said, kicking away a small piece of cement by his feet. “But to think those bastards broke through the walls with just two missiles…!”

Chuuya clicked his teeth. Even if this was planned by Dazai, he didn’t like it one bit. The outer layer of the building was specially made to withstand at least sixty consecutive missiles! And for the protection barrier around the headquarters to be so easily blasted apart was another issue.

“It’s not surprising that their weapons are more advanced than ours. They don’t have a city like Yokohama to protect them in America, so the developments of their technologies are solely focused on weapons,” Dazai hummed, “Though they were still discovered and hunted for human experimentation.”

Chuuya frowned at that. He has heard of too many similar stories in the outside world.

Despite the seemingly peaceful relationship they have with Japan, the rest of the world treated Old Humans very differently. For one, the knowledge of Old Humans isn’t known to the whole world. Their existence had always been top secret in Japan and kept from the rest of the world. It’s only in the last century that it was no longer a state secret.

As society became more and more stable, there were always curious eyes turned towards the mysterious city. So occasionally, Yokohama would invite a selected few inside, allowing only one to walk back out and deliver information.

This was the only way to get those nosy governments to get rid of any weird ideas about Yokohama—like reclaiming it for example. By showing Yokohama as a threat, the Japanese government wouldn’t move recklessly, especially when they still have the issue of Villains. They couldn’t afford to create another enemy, and as long as they are left alone, Yokohama has no intention of waging war against them.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for other countries. Without a base to protect them, once discovered, Old Humans will easily be captured. Abilities are extremely rare and even if they were powerful, they cannot fight while protecting a whole community.

“If that’s the case, then won’t they blast the entire city to the ground?”

“They won’t,” Dazai replied with certainty, “Even if their technology in weaponry is a tad higher than ours, Fitzgerald isn’t stupid enough to think we won’t have a countermeasure against large scale attacks. And even if he is, he knows he won’t find what he’s looking for if the entire city is gone.”

Chuuya walked over to the open wall. He leaned forward, poking his head out a little so he could see the state of things below. Blue eyes sharply trailed over each man and their positions before the redhead leaned back and glanced to a torn blanket lying on the ground not far away.

“So who were the ones that took Q?” Dazai asked cheerfully. Chuuya was sure the other knew already, but responded anyway.

“It’s the two that engaged with that other apprentice of yours,” Chuuya said as he took out a small booklet from his pocket and flipped through the pages. “John Steinbeck and Howard Phillips Lovecraft. So far, we still can’t figure out what Ability the second guy has.”

“Then perhaps it’s not an Ability at all.”

“You mean he’s a Quirk user?” Chuuya didn’t believe it. After all, if that man was a Quirk user, he wouldn’t have slipped through the barrier.

“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead could hear the smirk behind his boss’s lips. “After tonight, they won’t be relevant.”

Chuuya didn’t ask what that meant as he picked up the cotton blanket and headed back towards the edge. Crimson light coated his body as Chuuya activated his Ability. With a stomp of his feet, the floor beneath his feet caved in. Chuuya threw the blanket around his body as he fell towards the ground.

The sight of the baby blue blanket falling attracted the attention of the men stationed nearby. They raised their guns and circled the blanket that had a bulge in the middle. One of the men stepped forward, gripping the corner of the blanket and ripping it away only to find that it was a piece of concrete.

To be sure, the men searched around the area. After making sure there wasn't anything suspicious, they returned to their posts.

Perched on a nearby tree, a certain Executive watched the sight with narrowed eyes.

“Bunch of morons. I’ll deal with them after this is over,” he muttered darkly before he turned and darted off. He easily made it across the street, undetected by the Port Mafia underlings that were on watch.

The more of them he successfully evaded, the more the redhead felt his blood boil. It seemed their training had been too lax. He'll need to have a long talk with Kouyou about creating a new program after this entire mess got cleaned up.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a quick scan of his fingerprint, the phone lit up with a map on the screen. Chuuya stared at the blinking red dot that was rapidly approaching. He looked towards that direction just in time to catch a blur of white darting across the street before it was gone.

“Dazai.”

“Yes, love?” Dazai’s voice whispered gently into his ear.

“If this plan of yours doesn’t work, I will kill Q.”

“Of course.”

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Present

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

“Who are you?” the child asked as mismatched eyes looked at the group of twenty people standing there.

They were all stunned at the sight of such a young girl—or perhaps a boy? Either way, this didn’t seem to be a place where they would find a child.

They automatically looked around, hoping to find the kid’s parents, but couldn’t see another soul in sight.

“We’re just some people who are a bit lost,” Uraraka laughed as she crouched down to get to the child’s height. “What about you? Where’s your mom and dad?”

“Mom and dad?” the child hummed, needing to take some time to think over that question before smiling back at them. “I don’t have one.”

“E-eh?” Uraraka’s jaw dropped. This was an answer neither she nor her classmates had expected. She frantically waved her hands as guilt consumed her. “I’m so sorry! I-I had no idea!”

"Sorry?" the child tested the word as if it was something foreign to them. "Why?"

Uraraka blinked as her hands stopped in midair.

Why? Why what?

However, she couldn’t ask that, as she had already stepped on a landmine. Fortunately, Asui came up to save her.

“Do you have anyone looking after you?” she questioned with a finger to her lips.

“I do!” the child chirped brightly, but then saddened as they slowly swung their legs back and forth. “But I got lost…”

“Do you know their phone number?” Iida asked, already pulling out his phone, “I’ll call them for you.”

“I don’t know...” the child replied, looking unconcerned over not remembering their guardian’s contact number. “But it’s fine! He’ll find me. He always does!”

Everyone exchanged looks. They were all skeptical about this. During their way to the bar, the latter half of their trip was void of any people. No matter how they looked at it, this area was filled with factories and warehouses. Why in the world was there a child so young here all alone in the middle of the night?

Didn’t anyone know how dangerous it was?

"Maybe his dad brought him to the bar or something and forgot about him," Mineta whispered, only to be stabbed in the eyeball by an earphone jack.

"Let's wait around for a bit," Midoriya suggested. “Maybe his guardian is looking around for him.”

"Ah…there goes our curfew time," Kaminari whined jokingly. He understood that finding this kid's guardian takes priority over everything else. He looked around the empty street, “What if they never show up?”

"We can always call the police afterward," Tokoyami stated.

Midoriya walked up to the child and knelt in front of them with the friendliest smile he could muster. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, what’s your name?”

“I’m Kyuusaku!” the kid replied. Those symbol-carrying eyes looked Midoriya up and down, scanning over his body before the kid brightened even more. “You’re the one that broke your arms and legs!”

Arms and legs?

Midoriya recalled the foreigner he met when he was handing out the flyers earlier today. “You watched the Sports Festival?”

Everyone was surprised, but then remembered that the people here had access to the outside channels.

“So you watch the Sports Festival!” Kaminari laughed as he crouched down in front of the kid and pointed at himself. “Then do you remember me?”

Kyuusaku shook his head, still smiling so brightly that Kaminari didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“….Don’t mind," Asui patted his shoulder.

"Did you enjoy the Sports festival?" Jirou asked.

Kyuusaku nodded, “It looked really fun! I wish I could play too…”

“Oh! Do you wish to become a Hero in the future?” Iida asked excitedly.

“Hero?” Kyuusaku blinked. They stared at Iida with wide eyes before the child suddenly burst out into laughter, as if Iida had spoken the most hilarious joke they’ve ever heard. “No way!”

Everyone just stared at the child in confusion, then to each other. None of them were able to understand the joke.

“Big brother, do you like Stain?” Kyuusaku asked, mismatched eyes locking onto Iida.

Everyone froze at the name none of them had expected to hear coming out of this kid's mouth. They automatically looked towards Iida, whose face had darkened at the memories of the Villain flickering through his mind.

“Of course we don’t like Stain!” Sero exclaimed, drawing the kid’s attention to him. “He’s a bad guy!”

“Bad guy?” Kyuusaku tilted their head cutely. “Why?”

“Because he does bad things," Sato explained.

“Like what?” the kid pushed on, not noticing the discomfort the teenagers were feeling. There was only pure curiosity on the child’s face.

“Well, like—” Kirishima swiftly caught himself and stopped talking. He couldn’t possibly talk about killing in front of a kid, but even without the redhead saying it out loud, the child already knew the answer.

Kyuusaku smiled at the redhead and finished the words for him. “Like killing?”

Everyone stared at the child who had spoken of killing with such a happy expression.

"Yes…like killing," Yaoyorozu said slowly, eyes darting to her classmates.

“But don’t Heroes kill people too?” Kyuusaku then asked.

“Of course not! Heroes don’t kill people!” Midoriya defended.

At that, Kyuusaku looked genuinely confused as they turned to Midoriya. “So when Heroes fight Villains, they hold back their strength?”

“Well, no—”

“So you don’t hold back?” the boy asked, not even bothering to wait for Sato to finish.

"When Heroes fight, we use our strength to save people," Iida told the boy. "It's not about holding back or not."

“So you fight with all your strength?” Kyuusaku giggled. “Then how do you know you won’t kill the bad people?”

Some of the students opened their mouths but found that they couldn't answer the question.

"I saw a bad person die on TV. He died when fighting Heroes." Kyuusaku told them, still smiling.

“That’s not killing,” Todoroki tried to explain.

“But someone died?”

"Yes, but those are accidents," Shouji told the boy. “It couldn’t be helped. In a fight against Villains, there are always innocent bystanders getting caught in between. A Hero’s job is to—”

“But killing is killing,” the kid stated. “No matter what reason it is, you still killed someone.”

“Kyuusaku-chan…do you like Stain?” Yaoyorozu couldn't help but ask. The child's thought process was so…well, weird. How could a child talk about killing so easily? No, it’s because they’re a child that they didn’t understand the gravity of what their words meant. Considering the amount of influence the Hero Killer brought, Yaoyorozu wouldn't be surprised if Kyuusaku, much like many others in Japan, could understand Stain’s motive.

She wasn’t the only one thinking this way. Everyone else was expecting the kid to answer yes, given the conversation they just had. But to everyone’s surprise, the warm smile on Kyuusaku’s face dropped for the first time. On that kid’s face was an expression of pure confusion as those large eyes blinked up at them.

"No," Kyuusaku answered, as if it should be obvious. “He’s just a murderer that needed excuses to kill people. Why would I like him?”

Kyuusaku’s voice and tone were purely innocent. There was no mockery, no laughter…nothing. The child’s voice only held confusion over why they even asked that.

Everyone was taken back by the child’s response. Never had they heard anyone describe Stain like that. When Stain’s name first came around, the only things discussed were his actions and the current state of Heroes. There had been many debates over whether or not Stain’s actions were right, but so blatantly calling Stain a murderer was…something else.

“Kyuusaku-chan, what do you mean by that?” Asui asked with a frown on her lips.

“Isn’t it true though?” Kyuusaku jumped down from the bench and landed onto their feet. A bright smile lifted the corner of their lips. “He just wants to kill, yet he justified his actions by making a grand excuse. Isn’t that funny?”

“Justified…?” Midoriya stared at Kyuusaku. What is this kid even talking about?

The rest of the class wasn’t doing any better. They stared at the kid strangely as if they couldn’t understand the words coming from the kid’s mouth. This was no longer weird—it wasn’t normal.

“Hey, let’s play a game!” Kyuusaku suddenly changed the topic as they walked up to the U.A students. “I haven’t played a game in a long time! Won’t you play with me?”

Midoriya opened and closed his mouth. He was still trying to wrap his head around what this child had just said.

“S-sure, what do you want to play?” Hagakure hurriedly asked when the silence dragged on for a bit too long.

Everyone was now looking at the child weirdly. There was something not right with this kid. Despite that, none of them saw Kyuusaku as a threat. What they were beginning to worry about was this child’s environment.

Just what kind of environment gave the child such a skewed viewpoint? Kyuusaku did say they don’t have parents, but what about the guardian? Was this child perhaps neglected?

Many of them were already compensating on whether or not to call the police, but then Kyuusaku spoke.

“Let’s play tag!”

“Oh! Tag! That’s a great game!” Sero laughed, trying to brighten the weird tension in the air. “I’m super good at tag!”

“We can play in that park!” Ashido said, pointing to the park right next to them. Even if there weren’t any cars around, playing on the street was still dangerous.

“Alright! Who will be it?” Kaminari asked as he looked around.

“What’s an it?” Kyuusaku suddenly asked, causing everyone to look at the child in surprise.

“Kyuusaku-chan, have you not played tag before?” Asui asked carefully.

The young child shook their head, “I’ve only seen other people play it.”

“…I haven’t either.” Todoroki suddenly spoke up, frowning as he looked at the child.

Everyone stared between Todoroki and Kyuusaku while Midoriya’s eyes widened.

He looked over to the young kid. Could it be that this child had a similar childhood to Todoroki? No, rather than saying it's similar, it's more like…

“The it is the person that catches the other people," Ojiro explained as he walked up to crouch by the child. "They catch people by tapping them. If you get tagged by the it, you’re out.”

“What happens when you’re out?” Kyuusaku asked.

“Then you have to sit and wait until the it catches everyone. After that, the game restarts.” Tokoyami finished the explanation.

“Then I want to be it!” Kyuusaku said happily before reaching their hand out and tapping Ojiro on the shoulder. “You’re out!”

No one bothered to correct the child on how they should be given time to run. The moment Kyuusaku announced this, everyone ran off, squealing and giggling like little kids. Ojiro just laughed as he scratched his cheek, not minding how quickly he got thrown out of the game.

“Do I have to run after them?” Kyuusaku blinked as they watched the older kids run away.

“Yes, if you want to catch them?” Ojiro replied unsurely. "You don't like to run?"

"No, it's just running hurts," Kyuusaku replied. They didn’t sound sad or anything…just stating a fact.

Ojiro’s eyes automatically dropped to the child’s legs. Since the kid was wearing shorts, he was able to get a good look at slender legs lacking any form of muscle. Aside from the kid being a little thin, there didn't seem to be anything wrong. Maybe they sprained their ankle? Was that why they were sitting on a bench?

Believing that he had found the answer, Ojiro turned to his classmates who were scattered on the grass. They hadn’t gone far and were all waiting for the child to begin chasing them.

“Come on, Kyuusaku-chan!” Uraraka called as she waved her hand at them.

“Guys!” Ojiro called, successfully grabbing their attention.

“What’s wrong, man?” Kirishima asked, about to walk up when he stepped on a tiny twig lying in the grass.

Snap

“…!”

Ojiro heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned and saw Kyuusaku standing there, trembling with wide eyes locked on Kirishima. Those irises were dilated and unsteady…there were even droplets of sweats rolling down the kid’s face despite how chilly the night was.

Those small hands were gripping onto his doll so tightly that they were shaking and white around the knuckles.

“Kyuusaku…?” Ojiro called out gently, but the kid didn’t even seem to have heard him. Their breathing was growing faster and faster. The time between each breath was also getting dangerously short, to the point where Ojiro thought they might hyperventilate.

The other kids noticed this as well and they all began to run over. Their footsteps thundered across the grass and somewhere amongst those footsteps, another twig snapped, causing the boy to completely freeze in place, his breathing stopped altogether.

“Kyuusaku?” Ojiro reached out both hands and grabbed the child’s forearms, hoping to snap the kid out of whatever shock they were in. The moment his hands made contact, he felt something very wrong. There were multiple hard objects under his palms sinking into the kid’s arms from the pressure of his grip.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Kyuusaku suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream, pushing Ojiro away and stumbled back, clutching onto the doll even tighter.

“NOOO!!!” They shrieked, voice cracking as pale fingers sank into the fabric of the doll, pulling on the surface of the fabric so hard that some of the white stuffing was being squeezed out. “NO! NO! NOOOO!!!”

“Kyuusaku-chan?!” Yaoyorozu wanted to approach, but was afraid she might agitate the child even more.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya spoke loudly, hoping his voice could be heard through the child’s screams.

“IT’s aLL YouR fAuLt!!” Kyuusaku screamed, face morphing into what could only be described as pure malice. The doll trapped in his grip was beginning to move, but no one noticed as their eyes were all locked on the child’s face.

“I’LL cUrsE yOU! I’ll CURSE—!!”

“Q!!”

A voice bellowed from the distance, causing Kyuusaku to freeze up.

For a long moment, nobody could move. They all stared at Kyuusaku with cold sweat rolling down their faces.

What…what was that?

What exactly was that?

The sound of footsteps slowly brought the students back. One by one, they turned around to see a person emerging from the dark alleyway. He was covered in a long, black leather coat with white fur around the base of his collar.

Silvery white hair fluttered in the gentle breeze as the person slowly stepped into the light. They couldn’t see much of his face, as half of it was covered by his coat’s tall collar, but the way those golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim streetlight was unnerving.

He looked young… not much older than Class 1-A.

“A…Atsushi!” Kyuusaku seemed terrified as they clenched onto the old doll.

"What were you going to do, Q?" the white-haired boy questioned.

“I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Kyuusaku gasped, sounding desperate as they ran up to the young man. They reached out a small hand and gripped onto his black coat. “I wasn’t, so—”

When those golden eyes narrowed, Kyuusaku swallowed down the rest of the words. They clutched the doll tighter to their chest and spoke in a desperate voice.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! So…don’t leave me!”

The white-haired boy’s gaze softened a little before shifting to the students.

“Thank you for taking care of this child. I apologize for the trouble,” he said, nodding in their direction before turning to leave.

“Wait!”

Upon being called, the man stopped and turned around. His golden eyes met with Midoriya’s green ones.

“Are you…” Midoriya hesitated, eyes darting down to Kyuusaku then back to the stranger. “Kyuusaku’s guardian?”

“I am,” the other replied naturally. That didn’t seem to be a lie…and from how Kyuusaku interacted with this man, he was most likely the child’s guardian. However, it was precisely because of this that Midoriya needed to stop them.

"Do you have any identification to prove that you're that child's guardian?" Iida asked, looking at the man with a face full of distrust.

No matter how they looked at it, that interaction just now wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a conversation any ordinary kid would have with their guardian. Kyuusaku was terrified of this man, yet the way they still begged not to be thrown aside was raising red flags in all of their heads.

The images of Kyuusaku’s crazed look were still fresh in their minds, but that only fueled their desire and need to protect this young child. Anyone could tell by now that the kid’s mental stability wasn’t, well, stable. The cause may very well be this person right there.

“Proof?” The man raised a fine brow as those golden eyes shifted to Iida. The moment their eyes met, Iida felt a droplet of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He didn’t know why, but something wasn’t right with this person.

“…There is no need for me to prove anything to you,” the white-haired boy said calmly. He turned again and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Kirishima called, but the other didn’t stop. He just kept on walking with Kyuusaku by his side.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!!” Bakugou roared. He knew he needed to stop them. Something wasn’t right about that guy. He couldn’t let him take the kid. “We’re not done speaking!”

“Don’t yell at Atsushi!” Kyuusaku suddenly spun around and shouted. Those eyes were glaring murderously at Bakugou who stopped in his tracks.

Bakugou was stunned. He couldn’t understand why the kid would defend this man who terrified them like that.

“Q, we’re leaving,” the boy known as Atsushi called. He didn’t look back and continued to walk away, not caring about the group of teenagers behind him.

Kyuusaku ran back to his side, one hand gripping onto the older boy’s jacket as they walked down the abandoned street. From the shadow of the alleyway Atsushi had emerged from, a dagger soundlessly slid back into its sheath as a figure slowly stepped back and vanished into the darkness.

Class 1-A could only watch as the young man and the child disappeared from their sight. None of them were able to stop them.

“We…we have to call sensei!” Aoyama all but screamed after they lost sight of the pair.

“No matter how you look at it, that’s not normal,” Jirou agreed.

“I’m calling right now!” Iida was way ahead of his classmates as he opened his phone, pausing at the contact list. Who should they call? Their teachers? But their teachers were outsiders as well, would they be able to do anything?

So Iida chose the most obvious choice and clicked on Kunikida’s contact. The blond man was the one they were most familiar with. Iida was certain he could save Kyuusaku.

“What’s wrong, Ojiro?” Shouji asked when he noticed Ojiro was still sitting on the floor, the same position he had been in since Kyuusaku pushed him away.

Ojiro didn’t reply, his head dipped low as he stared down at his own hands. When everyone else looked to his hands, they paled at the sight of red fluid covering both of his palms.

“Ojiro-kun! What happened to your hands?!” Midoriya was horrified by the amount of blood that was there.

“It’s not my blood!” Ojiro explained, voice quivering slightly. "When Kyuusaku was screaming, I tried to get him to calm down and gripped his arms, I—"

Ojiro was quickly calming down as he recalled the feeling of what he felt underneath the child’s sleeves. Whatever those were, they were sharp and all over the kid’s arms. No, rather, it felt like his hands were the ones that made those sharp objects sink into the child's flesh.

He quickly explained that to the others.

“Back then…Kyuusaku said that running hurts.” Ojiro felt sick as he finally realized what was wrong. It wasn’t the child’s legs that were hurting, it was his upper body that was hidden beneath his coat. “We have to find him, he might be in danger!”

They should have realized sooner just how incongruent everything about Kyuusaku was!

“Kunikida-san?” Iida spoke and everyone turned to see him on the phone with Kunikida. “We need help! There’s a child and— where are we? Uh…” Iida began looking around, but couldn’t see any road signs indicating their location.

“I know!” Kaminari said as he fumbled with the paper map he used to lead them to the bar.

Iida turned the phone to speaker mode and turned it towards his classmate.

“We’re on—!” Before Kaminari could say the address, Kunikida began to speak.

“That’s alright, I can see where you are on the map,” the blond stated from the other end. “I am not going to start with why all of you are even there. You have forty minutes to come back. I won’t be explaining to your teachers if you miss your curfew time.”

“Kunikida-san! There’s a kid that’s hurt and got taken away by a strange man!” Ashido explained.

“He could be a human trafficker!” Aoyama joined in the background.

“A kid was taken by a strange man?” They could all hear the frown on Kunikida’s face. “By force?”

“No, they walked away together but—” Todoroki tried to pipe in, but was interrupted by Kunikida.

“Forget it.”

“Eh?” Ashido blinked, as if unable to believe she had heard right. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I meant.” Kunikida said on the other end. “If you don’t know how to get back, stay put. I’ll come to get you.”

“Wait!” Midoriya yelled. “There’s an injured child who might be in danger!”

A sigh came from the other end of the line.

“Yokohama is not the outside world,” Kunikida reminded the group. “Don't stick your nose into places where it doesn't belong.”

“That’s got nothing to do with anything!” Bakugou shouted. “Did you not hear a fucking word we said?! There’s a kid—”

“And I’m telling you to forget about this kid,” the man sighed “Use your brains, would any ordinary kid appear in such an isolated place so late at night?"

“That’s why we need to help!” Yaoyorozu said, as if it was the most obvious thing. “Something isn’t right and that child could be in danger! He’s bleeding!”

Another sigh. “You know what, this is going nowhere. Just stay there and don’t move around. I’m coming to pick you up.”

Click

Just like that, Kunikida hung up, leaving the kids staring in shock and disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou hollered, voicing out everyone’s thoughts in three short words.

Iida gritted his teeth, hands gripping tightly onto his phone before he began dialing again.

“What are you doing?” Tokoyami asked.

“The police!” Iida answered, typing in the numbers before putting the phone over his ear. He reached the helpline fairly quickly. Everyone watched hopefully as Iida explained the situation to the operator.

“It’s Kyuusaku, sir!” Iida said into the phone. “Surname? I don’t know...gender? A boy maybe? No, I don’t know for sure—we just met in the park!”

Iida seemed to be panicking as he struggled to converse with the other side. Everyone just watched as his responses grew weaker and weaker.

“Well, yes, that person claimed to be their guardian but—…yes…yes…they left together.” After that, Iida didn’t say anything. He just waited for the other side to finish before he slowly pulled the phone away from his ear.

“They…” Iida opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could finally utter the words. “They said they can’t do anything.”

“What…do you mean?” Uraraka asked. “A child’s being taken—”

“Kyuusaku-kun walked away by himself," Iida told everyone. "And that person said he’s Kyuusaku-kun’s guardian. The operator said the police won’t get involved unless we can provide proof that he was being taken away against his will.”

“What?!” Ashido was outraged. “What kind of response is that?!”

“How can…are we just going to let it happen?!” Sato spluttered.

For the first time since arriving, the kids felt the malice within Yokohama. This was wrong! This whole city was wrong! How could they all turn a blind eye to someone—a child — that needed help? No matter how they looked at it, it’s just not normal!

“I’m going.” Midoriya suddenly announced.

“Deku-kun?!” Uraraka gasped.

“Kyuusaku needs help, and I can’t turn a blind eye to it,” he said as his hands rolled into tight fists. Questions flooded through his mind as he kept replaying their conversation with Kunikida.

Why?

Why did he refuse to help even when there was someone in need of help? Wasn’t the Armed Detective Agency there to help people?

Midoriya didn’t understand, but one thing that’s clear was that no one was going to save Kyuusaku.

“It might be dangerous!” Aoyama whimpered. “Kunikida-san told us to stay put, and we can’t use our Quirks!”

“I’m just going to follow them and find out where they went,” Midoriya explained. “If I can find their location, then we can call the police and have them do something, right?”

“That’s true,” Sero agreed. “They want proof right? If they go take a look for themselves I’m sure they’ll find something wrong!”

“But you saw how Kyuusaku-chan defended that person,” Yaoyorozu pointed out.

“We can’t just do nothing!” Ojiro was the most affected by the situation due to the child’s blood staining his hands.

“I agree with Midoriya,” Todoroki said. “I’m going as well.”

“I’m coming too!” Bakugou announced, still grinding his teeth in irritation at the thought of that man. “There’s something off about that guy.”

“You guys can’t all go! You’ll get found out!” Hagakure said as she pulled off her gloves and threw them onto the floor. “How about this, I’ll go with Midoriya-kun! Since they can’t see me, I can scout the area without getting seen!”

“But your Quirk—” Sato began, only to get cut off.

“I’m not using my Quirk! I’m just naturally like this!”

Well, she wasn’t wrong about that.

“I’ll go with them!” Jirou said. “Even if I can’t use my quirk, I can still hear better than average people.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Shouji walked over to Midoriya. “If anything happens, I can take everyone and run.”

“Then I’ll—” Kirishima also wanted to volunteer, but was stopped by Bakugou.

“Any more and the enemy will notice, stupid,” he pointed out.

“We have enemies now?” the blond gaped.

“Thank you, Shouji-kun, Hagakure-san, Jirou-san,” Midoriya thanked the three. He knew he was being selfish, and he knew that it was going to be dangerous. Whoever that white haired male was, Midoriya could tell he wasn’t anyone ordinary.

Everyone else knew as well, that’s why none of them could turn a blind eye to Kyuusaku’s situation.

“Fifteen minutes,” Iida finally gritted out. Anyone could tell he strongly disapproved of it, but he also wanted to save Kyuusaku more than anyone else. “If you don’t come back in fifteen minutes, we will call the teachers and Kunikida-san.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya nodded.

“Here, take this phone.” Yaoyorozu held out her phone. “It seems there are trackers on the phone for Kunikida-san to find us. I’ve turned off the sound just in case. If anything happens, we can find you.”

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu,” Jirou said as she took the phone.

Ashido also handed the phone she carried to Hagakure, while Midoriya and Shouji took out their own phones and muted them.

“Don’t do anything dangerous, ok?” Uraraka told them.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you guys know it!” Hagakure said cheerfully, though no one could see her aside from the pair of shoes still on her feet.

Just like that, the four of them took off, running towards where the man had disappeared off to with Kyuusaku.

As the rest of the class watched them go, Asui let out a small croak from the back of her throat and looked up to the cloudy sky. A cold droplet of water came out of nowhere and fell onto her left cheek.

“Gero?”

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#bsd crossover #soukoku #shin soukoku #dazai x chuuya #mha fanfiction #bnha crossover

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thesublemon · 5 years ago

Note

Favorite movies/tv shows of 2019, and why? (Also, I really like your posts and hope you post more stuff!

Thanks so much! More posts are incoming. And sorry for taking so very long to answer this.

To be honest, I don’t watch a ton of contemporary stuff. I tend to think it’s healthier to take advantage of the great wealth of great art (or weird-but-interesting art) made in all time periods than to focus on keeping up with the present. Not that I don’t watch any contemporary things, I just don’t prioritize it in any way. So this list isn’t based on me watching everything and then picking out the best. It’s based on me watching a few things and liking some of them. But I hope that even if this list isn’t any more interesting than a list of awards ceremony nominations, I might at least have something worthwhile to say about the things in question.

Recent TV:

(I’m cheating and including TV from 2017-2019 that I watched in the last year or two, or else the list would be pretty boring and short.)

Succession (2018-present) - Maybe my favorite of the shows on this list, which is surprising to me because it’s not the kind of show I normally like. I don’t tend to care about rich people being mean to each other, or art that is glossily timely. I don’t get off on seeing the private dramas of powerful, immoral people. What I like about Succession is the sense of fragility and desperation that infuses it. It’s about the human desire for these stable institutions—families, kings, corporations—and whether or not they’re actually stable, and whether or not they should be destabilized. The whole thing is just a wonderfully rich text that has been made with a lot of craft. It’s nice to know that there are people making art that is very much about the present, and has something interesting to say about it.

Fleabag (2016-present) - The second season has gotten a lot of deserved praise, so I’m not going to dwell on its merits. It’s a complex and often moving exploration of the nature of love, whether romantic, familial, physical or divine. What makes it a truly “mature” artistic work is the way that it knows what it’s about from the very beginning (“this is a love story”) and complicates that aboutness in every single episode. It’s actually interesting to compare to the first season, which lacks the same maturity. The first season is still worth watching, but it doesn’t really become clear what it’s about until the last second, when Fleabag gives her monologue in the cafe. You keep waiting for it to get to the point, instead of having a repeated sense of anticipation about the point and accompanying satisfaction every time the point-shoe drops.

Killing Eve (2018-present) - Solid entertainment. Had a bit too much of the “contemporary TV aesthetic” for me to really love. But I’d missed genuine originality and clever writing in thriller-type stories. So it’s got that going for it. (Trying to actually define the “contemporary TV aesthetic” is a problem for another post).

unREAL (2015-2018) - I only watched the first season, and don’t feel a need to watch the rest. People tell me the subsequent seasons aren’t very good anyhow. But it was doing some interesting things. Things to do with femininity, authenticity, performance and love, and the degree to which they interfere with each other. I’m planning on talking about it a bit more in a subsequent post, along with Fleabag and the movie Weekend.

Sharp Objects (2018) - Mainly watched this and unREAL because I wrote so much about Buffy season six in the last year, and I was curious about Marti Noxon’s other shows (She was the main showrunner for that season, and you can definitely tell. Unhealthy relationships, mental illness in women, rough sex, and ideas of performance seem to show up in a lot of her stuff.). She has an interesting tendency to choose “trashy” subjects, but with a refreshingly non-cute approach to the (mostly-heterosexual) female id that I respond to. I keep trying to figure out what quality Sharp Objects had that other recent art about “women being and feeling fucked up in an artistically exaggerated way” didn’t have. Things like Midsommar, The Favourite, or Gone Girl. None of which I liked. And I think it comes down to that lack of cuteness. Watching a female protagonist furtively masturbate over the memory of a murder-shack in a way that’s not about fetishizing her? Either for a male or female or political audience? It’s weirdly satisfying.

Euphoria (2019-present) - Only watched the first four episodes or so, and probably won’t watch the rest. But it was interesting to me as a pretty successful attempt to be blatantly zeitgeisty. I like its vision of contemporary life as something full of hyperstimulus (“euphoria,” get it?). Whether that’s the hyperstimulus of porn, love, attention, validation, or actual drugs. It didn’t seem to be a reactionary condemnation of all of the above, more just a depiction of it, but since I didn’t watch the whole thing I can’t comment on its attitude with certainty.

The Vietnam War (2017) - Excellent Ken Burns as usual. I appreciated the variety of perspectives he interviewed, and I appreciated the episode dedicated to Vietnam’s history before the war started. If there’s one thing that American schools suck at teaching about the Vietnam War, it’s the Vietnamese side of things. I’m not a historian so I can’t comment on how good the history in the series is. I’m sure there are important criticisms to make of it, and like all Ken Burns documentaries he uses emotional tactics to tell the story that can at times feel manipulative in a bad way. But as someone who always wanted a more in-depth, multi-sided understanding of the Vietnam War, but didn’t know where to start, I was very glad to have watched it.

Black Sails (2014-2017) - Still haven’t seen the last season. But after watching I was honestly surprised I hadn’t heard more people talking about it. Or maybe that’s just my fault for not keeping up with mainstream writing about culture. It had some fascinating themes about the nature and fragility of civilization, and I think it would be interesting to compare to Succession on that front. Black Sails features characters on the outskirts of society. Whereas Succession features characters at the center of society. But both are about the desperation for stability that leads people to make societies—and disrupt societies—in the first place.

Recent movies:

(Sticking just to 2019 this time)

Once Upon a Time In Hollywood - What I liked about this movie is that it felt like a movie. I left it feeling like I’d had a big old cineplex experience. Which was fitting, because the movie itself was about the big artificiality of film. Throughout, there is this contrast between real violence, and movie violence, and who has an understanding of them. Cliff Booth, as a stuntperson, has a “real” relationship to violence, while Rick Dalton, as an actor, does not. Cliff can cut through a cult’s fakeness, and knows to turn aside an offer of underage sex. But although Dalton does not understand authenticity, he does understand fakeness. The point of the teenage terrorists in the final act is that none of them understand either authenticity or fakeness. They don’t get that violence is real, and they don’t get that movies are fake, which leads them to being destroyed by their own movie-inspired violence. In typical Tarantino form, the movie does have a smug-feeling nyah-nyah attitude about this theme, a feeling of “you idiot loser generation, you don’t get the seriousness of violence and you also don’t get that movies are fucking fun.” But it was a theme I found interesting nonetheless.

Apollo 11 - Unequivocally loved the cinematography. Just completely aesthetically compelling to me on every level. I would have have watched an entire Koyannisqatsi devoted to it. But I feel sort of weird saying that I liked Apollo 11 as an example of contemporary movie-making, since all of that footage I loved was shot in 1969. Still, the contemporary aspect—ie, the editing—did a good job as well. Mostly because it gave the impression of staying out of the way, even though it must have been a significant effort to select and organize the footage. As well as doing animations, titling, etc. I liked that the patriotism and mythology of it was mostly just conveyed via actual soundbites from the time. And that the competent chatter of scientists was given much greater weight. I watched Free Solo the other day, a climbing documentary from 2018, and I liked it for similar reasons—the fact that the presentation gave the impression of staying out of the way of the content, despite being obviously edited.

Parasite - Pretty understandable to me that it just won Best Picture, since it’s one of the few movies from the last year that knew exactly what it was about and how to do it, and did it with unpretentious panache. I appreciated its highly cinematic use of imagery. Say, the contrast between the concrete architecture on the upper and lower levels of society— how in the upper level it’s high art, and on the lower level it’s an inhumane prison. Or the way that characters keep visually crossing lines. I was actually pretty relieved to see that Joon-ho made this movie, because I hated Snowpiercer, and kept thinking it would have been a thousand times better if it was a thousand times less metaphorical and just depicted a real-world instance of inequality in a heightened, artistic way. Which is exactly what Parasite is. In fact, I think it would be interestingly instructive to explore why Parasite succeeded in creating iconic-feeling metaphors for social inequality where Snowpiercer failed. I also appreciated its basic vision of inequality as something symbiotic, and therefore systemic, rather than a matter of mere oppression. You find yourself asking more interesting questions about how to deal with systems when you acknowledge that systems are systems, even absurd and mutable systems, in the first place. Where I think Parasite was weakest was in the pace of the storytelling. I felt myself repeatedly getting ahead of it—eg, once you realize the brother is going to get the sister a job, you’re just waiting for the movie to finish up situating the mother and father as well. Whereas I think the strongest storytelling is perfectly aware of when the audience will start anticipating something, and uses that anticipation to create complications and surprise.

An incomplete list of some other things I watched in 2019 below the cut…

Movies that I watched for the first time and liked a lot:

Brink of Life (1958), Abigail’s Party (1977), Vigil (1984), Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Resolution (2012) / The Endless (2017), Jungle Fever (1991), Festen (1998)

Movies I saw for the first time that did things I found interesting:

The Devil’s Playground (1976), Skin Game (1971), The Reflecting Skin (1990), Straight Time (1978), Late Spring (1949), Iceman (1984), Hideous Kinky (1998), Bad Company (1972), Gozu (2003), Spring (2014), Jamón Jamón (1992), eXistenZ (1999), Bull Durham (1988), Carrie (1976), Swiss Army Man (2016), Tully (2018)

Movies I saw for the first time that I’d have to write specific pros and cons for:

Cape Fear (1991), Fury (2014), Cruel Intentions (1999), White Men Can’t Jump (1992), Spiderman: Into The Spiderverse (2018), The Deer Hunter (1978), Jennifer’s Body (2009), It (2017), The Favourite (2018)

Movies I rewatched and still loved:

Night of the Living Dead (1968), Dawn of the Dead (1978), The Ring (2002), Do The Right Thing (1989), F for Fake (1973), Tampopo (1985), Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011), Broadcast News (1987), Tangerine (2015), Weekend (2011), Conspiracy (2001), Bicycle Thieves (1948), The Devil Wears Prada (2006), The Thing (1982), Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966), The Hunger Games series (2012-2015)

Movies I rewatched and didn’t like as much:

Clue (1985), Before Midnight (2013), Vertigo (1958), Anchorman (2004)

#posts: art #asks

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