#fear not ons-ers i haven't forgot about you

[nono-uwu]

The silly

[wispisstillverybored67]

Gang-Plank Galleon

GAME OVER

LA SQUADRA HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY

TIME FOR THE PUNISHMENT!

YOU TOO, PAULLA!

"So it was asphyxiation?" Out came Ghiaccio's slightly trembling voice from the phone. Today, I decided to accompany this Formaggio to, what was his name, Gelato's apartment, since he (and the other one) went missing the night I joined the hitman team. The men had looked in places they usually were said to be in, but they haven't found shit. They don't know the truth. La Squadra di Esecuzione does not believe in tears. So I won't give my 2 lire about it. The Hitman Team has 10 members, counting me. Or, rather, it had...

I briefly glanced back to the corpse, then to the call. A face blown in tears of despair. "That's right," he recounted. "But only Gelato had been ID'd. We don't have Sorbet's body." Looking back to the corpse, he looked more shocked than I thought. Shocked, afraid, despairing, anything works fine. The corpse itself was the same face of the blonde I witnessed kill himself some time ago, his face still wet with fresh tears. I feel off. I would have liked to take another job, but I doubt it would do me well within the progression of my suspicion of the coming days.

"Punishment..." He scoffed. The paper taped to the other's forehead said that. So I was right... The image was coming back in pieces. What I saw that night will come back to me, I'm sure of it.

"Punishment," I repeated, drumming. Walking up to his body, I pulled the face close. An embrace like that is what I use to see if someone is dead, alive, or recently died. I can't recall the day I saw him die. I was almost about to forget it entirely, until we stepped into the apartment. Despair is weight, and my "Stand" is all about despair. I just have to sense the weight from him, and depending on it's sensation, we'll find out when he died.

But this weight...

What the hell is this...?!

...!! He died recently... Very recently. The day was... ugh, why can't I remember? In shock of the weight, I lost my grip and dropped him, but it looked like I was shocked at the state he was in.

"He was delivered here just now. Before we came in... He died 2 days ago. Died at 19:29 (7:29 pm)... You probably know this already, but he choked. The gag has been pulled in to his throat," I relayed the info I garnered. We should head back soon. It smells in here...

______________________________________________________________

It's time.

They'll ALL KNOW despair.

2 weeks later, the men received several packages from express. There's no sender attached, there's no need FOR a sender. The only one who knew the face of despair forgot most of the details. Ugh, I can't even recall the face of the two psychopaths I witnessed in the hit. I could've remembered any other time, too, so why can't I now? The one time it mattered? Oh, fuck the last part, it didn't matter anyways. I wasn't planning on telling them what I saw that night. Everyone's in for the evening.

"This is getting out of hand... Who's sending these?!" Ghiaccio said what was on everyone's mind tonight. "If I had a name, that'd be all she wrote!" Yeah, MURDER.

Some of the men had began cutting into the packages, vaguely suspecting foul play in any. One of them sighs, his tone not changing at the sight. Either of genuine calm, or of well suppressed fear.

"Looks like a frame," He remarked. "But this isn't a painting." It's art, but not that kind.

"So is this some kinda 'modern art'? I see something weird floating in it..." Glancing towards this one's piece, I recognized the appearance. It's a man's palm. It's go time.

One of them, er, one of us must've already found out the truth. "EEK! EEEEEKK!!" In a veritable panic, he fell back down at the sight of the frame he picked up.

"Hmm... What?" The older bro acted like usual, but there's something about him that seemed fearing.

"L...Look inside the frame! That's the same color nail polish Sorbet always wears!" Oh... Sorbet? OH. I know now... It's GO time. "I've seen it before...! He and Gelato use the same shade!!" He picked the one finger slice. Ooo la la, he must've had some good taste! That light purple looks very cute. But how come he figured that out already? They must've been close.

"...!!" The men back up, horrified. They know. They ALL know. Oh, what a rush! Poking a temple, I looked at their boss at the end of the room, Nero. Un-breaking composure. I approve. I myself didn't even bother pretending to be frightened. My head's just starting to hurt... I shouldn't have taken that hit around the hospital. Such despair...

"Get the frames off and line them up." He ordered the whole room.

Oh well, it's time. This time, I actually bothered helping. The air becomes more tense by the minute, the only sound is the frames being set down in one line in the middle. My back is flaring, my hair is standing, the white noise of despair slowly filling my ears. Despair noise pollution is a morbidly nice song.

Everyone looks slowly more worried and unhinged as the set becomes clearer. I stand corrected. There were exactly 36 slabs in all. In the name of despair, you have to smile. Recalling their names at last, I took the pains to memorize it all. We'll all know the sweet face of despair. The sweet, shifting, labyrinth of love; despair. The sounds of the slabs being placed in a row sounded more like heartbeats. A heartbeat counting down to the ultimate despair; La Squadra di Esecuzione's ultimate punishment...

"This can't be real...!" "It's a joke! It's gotta be!" Illuso and Formaggio know.

Halfway up the body, the preserved remains produced a better image, and at last, I remembered what I saw that night. They haven't seen what I've seen. But it's going to be alright now. Go time.

Closer to the goal, I'll have to make due with our current company for the Golden Land later. I wonder how the men will react to this. Oh, I feel so happy right now! No one can stop us now!

"I CAN'T LOOK ANYMORE!" "QUIT YOUR CRYING!!" "But... H-Hey now-!" Pesci and Prosciutto know. Paulla Izza does too, now. Do you think that was uncalled for? I think so. I'm lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, he's lucky, we're ALL lucky! The bro seemed unnerved, despite it all.

I wonder if their boss said anything. Risotto Nero does not move. But this time, even he looks unnerved. I'm surprised. I thought we were alike, but I guess not. Almost there, everyone! Just keep at it...!

"This is..." "..." Melone and Ghiaccio know. Hey, it's getting colder in here! You don't think it's one of the men's doing, do you? Tch.

May this moment become frozen in time...! I can't look away!

Ta-da!

"AAAAIIIIYEAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!" Formaggio FINALLY stared down the face of despair. And it was weeping in utter joy. Never have I heard a man scream like that in such a while...! The picture was complete, we'll claim our prize! Do you hear that? It's the voice of everyone's heart, howling in despair, wailing in ecstasy. 'Cause you see, despair is misery-induced glee.

The slabs were put together to form a naked man, Sorbet. His face is twisted into one that stared into the abyss, permanently. The top half of his jaw had all the teeth cleanly ripped out, but the bottom half was intact. Such a sadistic way to die...! For someone with that much hatred in his heart for that order to go out, the despair must be twice as potent! The knife work was such that it would stay sharp, yet prolong his punishment for as long as possible. Ahaaaa~! From the very bottom, came the top! Are some of them going to vomit now? ...Think I might-

"H-Hey guys, you don't think Sorbet was cut up in front of Gelato, do you...?!" Illuso, you know all too well. Whatever he thought went on, it wasn't pretty. Certainly not as pretty as what I saw that night...! Chatter chatter...

“Yeah. The fear and anguish must have made him-! Well, let’s just say he probably used that rag to suffocate himself!!” Melone, YOU know all too well…!!! Everyone’s in despair! It’s so wonderful!

Even a tenth of this despair… Even a hundredth… I want every damn soul in the world to taste such despair! The despair of losing your closest friend in such a hopelessly sadistic way! I want the world to die with this despair in its mouth!

Ahahaha! Hahahahaha...

...Shut up.

Shut up.

Shut up!

Everyone's voices are so cluttered! Chatter chatter! SHUT UP ALREADY!

"Guys..." I choked out.

"Guys... JUST SHUT UP! If you don't... I won't be able to... hear the..." I can't take this shit anymore! I end up collapsing because of their despair. That NEVER happens... My mind is swimming, spiraling. Someone must've grabbed me, for what, I don't know. I just joined a few weeks ago, and you're already trusting me enough to grab me out of concern? Who did it, even... I thought you ALL were focused on that... execution. Too much, too much, too much... Paulla, are you ok? So, Paulla, are you ok? Are you ok, Paulla? Hehehehe...

"So arrogant..." I weakly managed to say. Whoever was holding me couldn't even hear, cradling me in their lap...~

"Rather then... Rather then accept a life in cinders, you'd strive towards splendor. You knew the risks..." I feel so tired.

If those really ARE the shoes they've chosen, then I'll dance with them to the end...

Because now, they are me, and I am them. How fun is it, that despair can follow me even here to Italy, and it's not even my fault.

[neewtmas]

phenomenal gif choice😩✋🏻

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done

classic

'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.'

help🫣

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

i'm sure this will go over with no issues at all👀

"What did you do?" "Nothing." "What are you going to do?" "Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?"

i'm so sorry I had to think about do you wear wigs😭😭

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

that one is terrible

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

a little better😬

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

is that all the plagiarism😂

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

huh that caught me off guard help🫠

"Did it hurt?" "When I fell from heaven?" "When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

😂😂😭

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"I was checking for broken bones." "For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

why is this so funny

helpppp😭

The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

i fear irreparable brain damage

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise

of course

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down.

what is happening😭😭😂

“So. Did it hurt?” “When I fell from heaven?” “When you fell into my life.” 

uuuhghkjhkjdfhkjh

But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

oh man🥹🥹

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[mirasmirages]

Mira Masterpost

Hi, I'm Mira!

I've been a part of the whump community for about two years now, mostly on Discord. Sometimes I write or draw or make other stuff, and I've role played quite a bit.

I love talking to people, so don't be afraid to say hi! I can be a bit awkward, though, so I apologize in advance for anything I say.

I've made a couple of ask games, and sometimes I send asks to people who reblog them:

Let me ask you something

Character ask game: Dating

Character ask game: Careers

Character ask game: Relationships

You can find my OCs and writing under the cut.

Henry Baker

Henry was made for a role play with @starliight-musings.

His mother died when he was nine years old and his father raised him alone after that, while drowning his feelings in alcohol and trying to deal with the debt after his wife's stay in the hospital. When Henry was 18, a man named Charles Duncan came by and offered to let Henry pay off his father's debt, and made it seem like if Henry didn't accept, his father would be killed.

Tag: #OC Henry Baker

Whumper Henry (er!Henry):

Henry managed to negotiate with Charles so that Charles would pay for his education so that Henry would be able to make himself useful and pay off the debt. He went to college and was very cool for a few years, but thanks to Charles, that didn't last. Henry grew up and started a demolition company, and then a cleaning company. For the right price, he can make anything disappear.

While er!Henry is good at the core, that core has been beaten and bruised and covered in fear and anger issues, privilege and money.

Henry, dispose of your guns - Henry gets rid of all his guns.

Haunted house - Henry and his boyfriend flirting on Halloween.

You wanna taste? - Some little drawings.

Anniversary fic - It's the anniversary of Henry getting stabbed and James saving him!

Why can't you just be happy? - Henry and James have an argument.

Whumpee Henry (ee!Henry):

In this version, Henry agreed to pay off his father's debt - and accidentally sold himself into slavery. Oops? Charles uses ee!Henry to bribe and blackmail people as he sees fit. This story is very NSFM but I haven't written any of it down yet.

Choking - Whumpee!Henry trying to do his job. 1993 words.

NoCharles Henry (nC!Henry):

What if Henry mever met Charles and got to just be himself in his wonderful self? Well, he would go to college with the help of some scholarships and be very queer and do a lot of activism. Eventually he works for and then runs a shelter that focuses on helping homeless queer people and runaways.

I don't have any writing for this but it's relevant if you're planning on reading @starliight-whump's villain!James series.

Baby, if you were words on a page, you’d be what they call FINE PRINT! - Cheesy flirting with lots of pick-up lines. Not whump. 747 words. (This doesn't belong to any particular AU, but I had to put it somewhere)

villain!Henry

In a world where some people have superpowers, 19-year-old Henry was walking outside when some powered people were fighting. The fight caused a building to collapse over Henry, nearly killing him. He wakes up in a hospital bed, where he is told that Charles Duncan saved his life and that he now owed his life to Charles. Through a lot of experiments, Charles's team gave Henry superstrength, speed and enhanced healing. Henry became the supervillain Mass Destruction, and was forced to do whatever Charles told him to.

I forgot to title this - CW: mentions of rape. 678 words. Part 2 1249 words.

Fall In Line (updates mondays) - Part one - Heroes, Part two - Contract, Part three - Therapy, Part four - Friend

Charles Duncan

Charles is a man with a lot of money and power, and he wants more of both. He owns a pharmaceutical company.

Tag: #OC: Charles Duncan

Charlotte Duncan

Charles's wife. She is completely on board with what her husband is doing.

Girl/Valerie

When er!Henry's company is hired for a cleanup job, his employees finds a little girl who is barely alive amongst the bodies. Henry gets her the help she needs to survive, but then gives her back to her owners, and the guilt won't leave him after that.

Tag: #OC: Valerie/Girl

The Christmas Gift - Part one of Single Dad AU. Henry Baker, owner of too many guns, is tricked into adopting a traumatized 8-year-old. 2385 words.

Whumpmas In July day 3: Sleep - Val has a nightmare. 638 words.

Odd and Even

Even was er!Henry's boyfriend when Henry was an exchange student in Europe, and Odd is Even's twin. They are both doctors. Odd really likes performing lobotomies and doing less than ethical experiments.

Tags: #OC: Odd Gaustad and #OC: Even Gaustad

In the dark - Henry and Even’s first date. 1095 words.

Richard and Maria

An older couple who works for er!Henry and lives in his building. They are the closest he has to parents. They don't quite support the bad things he does, but they have accepted that that's how it is, and support him as well as they can.

Tag: #OC: Maria

Hailey

A runaway teen er!Henry found on the street and let stay in the empty apartment in his building. She really wants to get a job at Henry's company but he doesn't want her to get involved.

Nadir Khan

Nadir is a fireman who works in the city Henry lives in. He's a hero in Superhero AU.

Tag: #OC: Nadir Khan

Maya Campbell

Maya is er!Henry's best friend. Like Henry, she agreed to take on her parent's debts when Charles offered. She now runs a café that is mostly normal. You should try the special blend coffee, I hear it's great. The café has soundproof rooms if you prefer some privacy. Maya can get you pretty much anything you want, if you're willing to pay the price. If you don't have money, she might agree to let you owe her a favor instead.

Tag: #OC: Maya Campbell

Mind control (1414 words) A young Maya agrees to work for Charles. (Superhero AU)

Aaron

Aaron is Maya's husband and the father of their two children. He doesn't know what exactly Maya does at her job, but he does know that he doesn't want to know, and that it's better not to ask.

Tag: #OC: Aaron Campbell

Gavin

Maya and Aaron's oldest son, born in 2015. Talkative and affectionate.

Tag: #OC: Gavin Campbell

Leo

Maya and Aaron's youngest son, born in 2017. Careful and quiet, but sharp as a knife.

Tag: #OC: Leo Campbell

Liam

Liam is one of Maya's employees. His parents sold him when he was 14, and then he was sold again when he was 18. His new home gets gradually worse, until he makes a deal with Maya so that she'll help him get away.

Tag: #OC: Liam

Andrew

Another one of Maya's employees. Andrew feels like he deserves a better life than what he got, and is bitter about it. Instead of working on himself to improve his circumstances, he decides to get a human pet. He's tidy and systematic and likes cooking.

Tag: #OC: Andrew

✄  - Kay walks in on Andrew killing someone. A-K-verse.

Sky/Sarah

Sarah was a normal teenager about to go to college when she was kidnapped and sold to Andrew, who trains her to become a pet. He names her Sky, and after a few years, there's not much left of Sarah in her.

Tag: #OC: Sky/Sarah

After Alistair - part one (983 words), part two (1030 words), part three (663 words) (Andrew-Kay-verse)

Don’t touch me! - Caretaking with Sky. 438 words. (Andrew-Kay-verse)

“What would it take for you to murder Andrew?” - Drunk!Sky talks to a stranger. Short. (Gale AU)

Whumpmas in July 2021: Day 9 - “Look at me” (Gale AU)

Gale/Sarah Assassin Duo AU - In which I do not do what the prompt says. (Gale AU)

Giggly cuddles - Kind of fluff with Sky and Andrew.

What if Andrew never managed to break Sky? - Andrew gives up on his pet.

What if Andrew went to prison for what he did to Sky? - Meta talk.

What if Sky got the happiness she deserves? - One good day. Spoilers for the Sarah story.

Starvation - Sky, pet whumpee, is underfed to force her to beg for food. 218 words.

Falling through ice - Sky is on a trip to a cabin with her owner Andrew and his friend Rory. Mostly fluff. 1074 words.

Headache - Rory babysits Sky while she has a headache, before her old identity is completely erased. 1907 words.

The Sarah Story (pet whump, lady whump) (On hiatus) (Currently unavailable):

The Sarah Story was not written to be good, it was an attempt at publishing with a consistent schedule. It has it's moments, but it's not great. One day I'll finish it and post a better version.

Part 1 - Sarah wakes up in a new, unfamiliar place. 1803 words.

Part 2 - Sarah’s first day of being kidnapped. 2004 words.

Part 3 - Sarah finally eats. 1309 words.

Part 4 - An escape attempt. 1978 words.

Part 5 - Regaining Andrew’s trust and a new chance. 1485 words.

Part 6 - Birthday Party! 924 words.

Part 7 - Going outside. 1375 words.

Rory Cooper

In Andrew-Kay, a role play with @tcurniquet's character Kay, Rory was one of Andrew's friends, who became a caretaker and helped Kay escape.

Tag: #OC: Rory

If I can’t have you - Set in Andrew-Kay-verse. What if Kay(whumpee) tried to go back to Andrew (whumper), but Rory (caretaker) didn’t like it at all? 1136 words.

Hanae

Parker belongs to @greatandquestionablecontent

Tag: #OC: Hanae

This isn't Shakespeare

Hanae is a hacker who lives in a made-up European country. She's working with a journalist to investigate why people seem to be disappearing without the government caring at all. Her not-boyfriend Parker (they are dating but Parker is not a boy) works at the NIS (National Investigation Service). Hanae and Parker don't know what each other's real jobs are. There is drama, there is torture, and the relationship will be hard to save.

Good enough - A Halloween story, set after the role play This Isn’t Shakespeare. Dating the person who tortured you can be kinda difficult sometimes. 755 words.

This isn't Burglary (NSFM (kinda))

Hanae is a burglar who thinks she's breaking into an empty house, and is surprised when Parker pins her to the wall with a knife to her throat. They tie her to the bed until they decide she's scared enough to let her go (and also Parker is too tired to keep going). They meet again some weeks later at a BDSM conference. It's very awkward but they go get milkshakes and talk. Instead of asking Parker on a date like a normal person, Hanae decides to dress up and break in again - and that's when we stopped writing, so who knows what will happen.

This isn't Buffy

Prompt fill for Febuwhump where Hanae is a vampire hunter and Parker is a cop.

Impalement (1297 words)

Succubus!Hanae (NSFM)

In which Hanae is a half-succubus who feeds on people's sexual energy. She lives in her car and travels, never staying in one place too long.

A Strange Child - Backstory from her mother's POV. 1673 words.

Prompt fill - Set a short while after A Strange Child

Hugo

Hugo is an autistic boy who loves trees, nature, pop rocks and trees. He is the first character I role played, and the one that got me started writing whump. Ignore the bizarre shoe situation in the picture please.

Tag: #OC: Hugo

Landslide - Hugo experiences a landslide. 353 words.

Norina

Val belongs to @sableflynn

Tira was born in the kingdom of Auria. Her parents couldn't affort to keep her and gave her to an orphanage.

Adoption has an important role in the religion in Auria, and when Tira was eight, she was adopted by a noble family and given the name Norina. Norina works hard to fit in with her new family, to be as similar to her new family as she can in how she looks, acts and thinks, and she becomes deeply religious. When she is 20 she gets adopted again, this time into the royal family, so that she can marry the prince of a neighbouring country and prevent a war. Unfortunately, on the way to her new countries, she is kidnapped by pirates.

Tag: #OC: Norina

Norina -  Opening to Norina’s story. Nori gets adopted into the royal family and is crowned princess. 1378 words.

Distracting kisses - Val Norina modern!AU in which they (don’t) build a table. 435 words.

Nori, give Butters a bath - Val Norina modern!AU - Norina gives the cat a bath.

What if Tira (Norina) recognized Val at the ball? - The opening of Val-Norina, slightly altered.

Imprisonment (308 words) - Norina remembers her time on the ship.

"Just play along. Please." - Modern!AU Valnori. 737 words.

Whumpmas in July 2020 (finished): Tira the Little Mermaid (Valnori AU) Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Niel

Norina's brother from when she is eight to when she is twenty. They love each other a lot and are each other's closest friend. Niel gets stabbed when he tries to stop the kidnapping.

Tag: #OC: Niel

Devin

The princess/Josephine belongs to @no-whump-on-main

Devin works as a stable boy in a medieval kingdom. One night when he's twelve, he meets the princess who is sneaking out of the castle, and they become friends. Years later, the princess discovers that Devin is being abused by the cruel Stable Master and decides to get him out of there, and they run away together.

Tag: #OC: Devin

Devin and Kelsea - Devin gets his first kiss a few days before his birthday. Pure fluff. 529 words.

Pyralis/Nix

Nix is a phoenix who is sometimes reborn with a new body and none of their old memories.

Tag: #OC: Pyralis

“I can’t take this any more!” (271 words)

M

A mob boss character for a pet story I might write in the future.

Tag: #OC: M

You know what I want

[oldanatomical-heartt]

¿Te encanto?

Wrote this when I was fourteen, so it’s a little cringey. Forgive me for any Spanish errors, I was only in my second year of Spanish and I’ve been out of Spanish classes for too long to go back and correct it :(

(Translations are in parenthesis)

Peter glanced at the classroom behind him from his front row seat.  He'd been placed there, right next to the teacher's desk, after he was caught too many times watching YouTube instead of conjugating Spanish verbs.  As he looked at his classmates' faces, looking at their phones participating in the review game, he noticed one girl in the back wasn't.  He peered around the boy slightly blocking his sight to see her, (H/C) (hair type) hair, spilling over the arms she was resting her chin on.

"Peter!" Profe Rojas called, Peter snapping his head back towards the front.

"Yes, Profe?"

"You haven't answered the past three questions, if you need this review for the test, I suggest you participate," the teacher snapped.

"Yes, Profe," Peter said quietly, even though he knew he normally got a hundred percent on his exams.

Peter answered a few more questions before Profe Rojas passed out the test and the class began to complete it.

Half an hour later with his completed test turned in, Peter sat at his desk twiddling with his thumbs, thinking of what might happen today. Unfortunately, the bell interrupted his thoughts of Spider-Man's adventures.  As he quickly gathered his papers and things, Peter looked to see if the girl was there, but she had already left.  Peter sighed and was about to leave, when his teacher caught him on his way out.

"Peter," Profe Rojas said, making Peter turn.

"Yes?" Peter grimaced, afraid of the lecture he was about to receive.

"Lo siento, I forgot that even though you can sometimes be a delinquent, o un estudiante muy perezoso, you are very good at Spanish." (I'm sorry,  I forgot that even though you can sometimes be a delinquent, or a very lazy student, you are very good at Spanish)

"Oh, than-"

"-try again," he interrupted.

"Lo siento. Muchas gracias Profe, estudié mucho." (Sorry.  Thank you very much Profe, I studied a lot)

"Bueno, hasta mañana Peter." (Good, see you tomorrow Peter)

"Adiós!" Peter called over his shoulder as he jogged out of class.

Rushing back to his locker Peter shoved his homework into his backpack, before racing out of the school doors and into the streets of Queens. Turning down an alleyway Peter dug through his backpack to pull out the Spider-Man suit that was hidden underneath all his books. Quickly changing behind a dumpster and then webbing his backpack to a wall, Peter was off, making his daily rounds.

The rest of the day went by without anything of much interest, retrieving a stolen purse, catching underage teens drinking beer, playing some kickball with some first-graders. Exhausted, Peter came home and easily went through his homework, before sitting down with May for dinner and then going out for his uneventful nightly rounds, before returning home for bed.

The next day couldn't have gone by any slower for Peter, who upon entering school caught a glimpse of the girl from the back of Spanish class. He didn't know what it was about her, but something about her was drawing him in. Each class drudged along, Peter watching the clock until fourth period. Finally, when the bell rang Peter breezed by a confused Ned on his quick-paced route to the A rooms. Despite his attempt, Peter had just walked in the door when the bell rang and was quickly ushered into his seat.

"¡Buenas tardes mis amigos y amigas! ¡Hoy es viernes, viernes, viernes!" Profe Rojas enthusiastically announced to the class, stretching the e in buenas and repeating 'viernes' like a sports announcer. (Good afternoon my friends!  Today is Friday, Friday, Friday!)

The class collectively rolled their eyes at Profe Rojas's attempt to seem cool, this was not the first and definitely not his last attempt.

"I've graded your exams, and to the majority of the class, muy bueno!  Ellos  estudiaron, correcto?" Profe asked with a smile as he began handing back the tests row by row. ( I've graded your exams, and to the majority of the class, very good!  You all studied, right?) 

"Unfortunately, some of you did not do as well as I hoped you would.  If you have a note written on your exam, please see me after class," Profe said, looking directly at Peter.

Peter started to sweat, he thought he did good on the test, he knew almost every answer, but maybe he didn't. Anxious, he began twiddling his fingers as Profe finally reached his desk, the last row.  He almost ripped the test when he grabbed it from Profe's hands.  To his relief and confusion, on the top of the test next to the name slot was "100% Muy Bueno Peter ¡Congratulaciones!" (100% Very good Peter Congratulations!)   Peter leaned back and let out a sigh as all of his fears quickly hit the floor.  Peter glanced at the girl in the back and noticed she had her head in her hands with her hood over her head.

"(Y/N), no veo tu cabeza," Profe said, which made the girl look up. ((Y/N), I can't see your head) 

She looked like she was thinking, for a moment, when Profe tapped his head where her hood was.  She slowly nodded, removing the hood.

"Sorry," she said softly, so quiet Peter wouldn't have heard if he wasn't paying attention.

"En español por favor," Profe corrected. (In Spanish please)

"Oh, uh, lo siento." (Oh, uh, I'm sorry)

"Bueno!" Profe called, but Peter didn't hear him because all he could think about was how he now knew the girl's name. 

(Y/N).

Class went as usual, now learning demonstratives.  All throughout the lesson, Peter kept glancing back at (Y/N), as she seemed in a daze as she followed the lesson (much like Peter).  The bell ringing startled Peter, as it suddenly seemed to do that a lot recently.   Peter didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew that he wanted to introduce himself to (Y/N), as she had not left yet.  Furiously stuffing his backpack Peter was about to make his way over to her when Profe Rojas called him over yet again.  Peter sighed frustratedly as he tried to appear neutral to his teacher.

"Peter! Hablé con tu tía and she approved my proposal." (Peter!  I talked with your aunt and she approved my proposal)

Peter shifted from one leg to the other in discomfort as Profe Rojas continued.

"You see, some students are having a bit of trouble in class, no comprende los lecciones, y necesita asistencia para aprender".  (You see, some students are having a bit of trouble in class, they don't understand the lessons, and need help to learn.)

"Okay, I don't understand, I have an A in this class..." Peter said.

"Sí, sí. Estas correcto.  Your aunt told me you'd be available to tutor those students who aren't doing so well, and she thinks it'll be a better use of your time than what she says you already do."

Peter shifted again, slightly nervous about his 'mysterious whereabouts' with Aunt May.

"Then I don't have much of a choice, do I."

Profe laughed slightly at Peter's reply, "Not really, no."

"Alright then, who will I be tutoring?"

"Me."

Peter whirled around to see (Y/N) there, glancing from the floor to Peter and to the floor again. She awkwardly clung to the straps of her backpack and slighting rolling on the balls of her feet.

"(Y/N), isn't doing so well, I was hoping you'd be able to help her understand the lessons better," Profe said.

"Yeah yeah, sure, uh, when would this start?" Peter asked, suddenly anxious.

"You free today? Like right after school?" (Y/N) asked, staring at Peter's shoes.

"Uh..." Peter thought for a moment.

He wanted to make his daily rounds right after school, but he also wanted to meet with (Y/N).

"Yes, I am," Peter stated.

"¡Excelente!" Profe cheered, "Escribo permisos para ustedes".  (Excellent!  I'll write passes for you both)

Peter and (Y/N) stood next to each other, awkwardly waiting for Profe Rojas to fill out the passes, one for the library after school and one for them to get to their next class on time, as the passing period was almost over and students were already filling the previously empty desks.  They kept stealing glances at each other, quickly looking away once they made accidental eye contact.

"Bueno!  Now hurry to class, don't misuse those passes," Profe said, and as Peter and (Y/N) exited the classroom they could hear a faint "Excelente! Buenas tardes mis amigos y amigas! Hoy es vierrrrrrrrrrrrnes!"  (Great! Now hurry to class, don't misuse those passes//Excellent!  Good afternoon my friends!  Today is Fridaaaaaaaaaaay!)

"Sorry about this," (Y/N) said, motioning to everything with her hands.

"It's er- totally cool," Peter replied, trying to figure out what to do with his arms.

"You sure?  I mean my failing grade is now a burden to you, and your probably secret girlfriend," (Y/N) said casually.

"My- my what?" Peter stammered, caught off guard by (Y/N)'s statement.

"Your aunt thinks tutoring will be a better use of your time, and you're not in any sports, and a dorky guy like you probably doesn't have much of a social life, no offense, of course, so probably no scandalous parties or the like.  Which means you're probably sneaking off to do stuff, which means you have a girlfriend that you're hiding from your aunt, or y'know you could secretly be that Spider-Man dude or something," (Y/N) said, laughing at her joke, which received an awkward forced laugh from Peter.

"You caught me, I'm sneaking off, but I don't have a girlfriend."

"Really?" (Y/N) responded, genuinely surprised.

"Yes really, why is that so shocking?" Peter questioned, secretly hoping (Y/N) didn't have to turn down a hallway to get to her next class soon.

"I didn't think you swung that way," (Y/N) replied, Peter turning embarrassingly red.

"I'm not gay I swear, Ned's my best friend that's it!"

"Woah there, didn't mean to touch a nerve," (Y/N) taunted slightly smirking, "Anyways, c'mon dude, you're pretty much at the top of every class, and I wouldn't be surprised if at least one person found you cute or something, hopefully a girl for your sake," she said breaking into a grin at her humor.

Peter blushed when she said someone could find him cute, but calmed himself down.

"No, still no girlfriend, but there is one girl I've got my eye on," Peter said, mind wandering to Liz.

"Ooooooooh, spill," (Y/N) said, elbowing him in the ribs.

"D-don't you think that's kind of personal? I mean no offense but I barely know you," Peter said, clutching his backpack straps, leaning away from (Y/N)'s elbowing with a red face.

"Isn't that the point of strangers, we spill our secrets to them because they can't mock us since they'll never see us again," (Y/N) replied, eyebrows raised.

"Maybe, but I'm seeing you again, today, exactly."

"Fair point," (Y/N) said, retreating.

They walked a few more feet in a comfortable silence for (Y/N), but an awkward one for Peter.

"What class you heading to?" Peter asked, attempting to fill the silence of the empty hallways, save for their footsteps.

"Honors chem, but I might drop it.  Not willingly, of course.  My Spanish grade is making my parents think I should take regular classes until I'm back on track," (Y/N) answered shrugging.

"How bad is it anyway, to know what I'm getting myself into?"

"D+, 68% exactly.  I studied so hard for that test, I don't even know what I did wrong," (Y/N) responded, retracting into herself and frowning at the floor.

"Sorry, didn't mean to upset you," Peter said with concern.

(Y/N) sighed, "It's fine, I had to bring it up eventually.  Anyways, sorry to cut this short but Mrs. Hahn's room is this way," she said pointing up the staircase.

"Alright, my class is down that hall over there.  See you later, right?"

"Yeah, nice talking to you Peter," (Y/N) said smiling sweetly.

"You too," Peter said, waving before watching (Y/N) flip up her hood and begin walking up the stairs and then he walked his own way.  (Y/N) smiled to herself as she walked up that stairs, very content with herself for holding a pleasant conversation for that long with Peter.  Peter himself now couldn't wait for the end of the day more than usual, unable to wipe the grin from his face.

"What's got you so happy?" Ned asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"What do you mean?" Peter answering Ned's question with a question.

"You haven't mentioned Liz's haircut all lunch, what're you thinking about?"

"Apparently I'm tutoring some girl from my Spanish class after school," Peter said casually.

"A girl!  Peter you ladies man!" Ned exclaimed, slapping Peter on the back, "give me details!"

"It's nothing big, she's got a D+ in Spanish and Aunt May told my teacher I'd be more useful tutoring than running around for uh-" Peter glanced around, "for the 'Stark internship.'"

"What's her name?  What's she look like?  How'd it happen?  Have you guys talked yet? Is she cute?"

Peter blushed at Ned's last question and shrugged him off.

"Her name is (Y/N) and Profe introduced us to each other and then we walked to class."

"Oh my GOD she's cute, isn't she?  (Y/N)?  (Y/N) who?  Has she said anything to you yet?  What kind of girl is she, like a nerd, athlete, goth, skater, emo?"

"Ned I would love to answer your questions but all I know is that her name is (Y/N) and we had a nice conversation on our way to our next classes."

"Gimme the rundown, what was the conversation about?"

"Well, I think it started with her apologizing for being a burden and 'taking me away from my secret girlfriend.'  Then I guess she complimented me?  And then it was a bi-"

"Wait, what?  Dude, did she ask you if you had a girlfriend?"

"Well, not directly, she was-"

"Did she?!"

"I guess kind of?"

"Dude!  She totally likes you!"

"Ned please, that's- that's not true."

"She was trying to see if you were available!"

"No, no way."

"He's right," Michelle spoke up from down the table.

The boys snapped their heads towards the unexpected input.

"This- this is a private conversation!" Peter sputtered.

"I know," Michelle stated before picking up her tray and walking to throw away her trash.

"Duuuuuuuuude," Ned said, eyes wide and smiling from ear to ear.

Peter rolled his eyes, nonchalantly checking his watch every two minutes.

When the bell rang at the end of the day Peter all but walked to the library, only to find (Y/N) already standing outside the doors, pass in hand, looking in the glass walls.  She heard Peter's footsteps and turned around, face visibly brightening at the sight of Peter.

"Hey, I thought it'd be best to go in together," (Y/N) said smiling.

"Yeah, good thinking," Peter replied, with the same smile on his face as well.

The duo walked into the library, handing the lady working the desk their passes to be in the library after school hours. She signed them and sent them to a "study room" which was really just a table in between three bookshelves to create makeshift walls.

"So, what do you need the most help with?" Peter asked, setting his bag down in a chair before sitting in the one next to it.

"Everything," (Y/N) sighed, before sitting in the chair next to Peter and pulling it closer to him while hooking her backpack strap over the back of her chair.

Peter tensed when she moved her chair, Ned's words from lunch echoed in his ears as he told himself Ned was wrong.

"Could- could I look at your test from today?" Peter asked, his voice an octave higher.

"Yeah sure," (Y/N) replied, pulling the slightly dog-eared packet out of her backpack.

(Y/N) handed the test to Peter, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with how much (Y/N) didn't understand.  She'd missed nearly every question, but some of it was just unfair grading, like she'd missed an entire question for having an unnecessary accent.

"I'm not stupid," (Y/N) said from her chair, peering over the edge of the paper reading Peter's reaction, "Just so you know."

Peter immediately put down the paper, "No, no, I didn't say I think you are!"

"I know, but I got a 31% on this test, you're bound to think I'm a little... slow, I guess."

"You're not slow, it just seems- do you pay attention in class?" Peter asked, afraid she'd take offense to his question.

"I mean I try," (Y/N) said, shaking her head, "but Profe talks so fast and mostly in Spanish and everything just goes over my head."

"So you have issues understanding the words?"

"I guess so..."

"Well, let's start there then.  We'll start with you learning the vocabulary, and then how to construct sentences.  They won't have to be correct and all in Spanish, but it will help you start to understand how to use the words and article adjectives and the conjugation and stuff."

"Alright, okay.  You sure this doesn't make me sound dumb?"

"I'm sure, besides, it's okay to be smart in most classes but not understand other classes."

"Psssh, says you, Mr. Perfect!" (Y/N) snickered, lightly pushing Peter's arm.

Thoughts ran through Peter's mind, is (Y/N) flirting?  She just called me perfect...  She's still laughing.... (Y/N) has a nice laugh... Peter cleared his mind and laughed along with her.

"Hey, I'm not perfect, I mess up on things, big things," Peter said, remembering heroic acts gone wrong he'd done.

"Like what?" (Y/N) was staring at Peter, sincerely interested in what he'd thought he'd messed up on.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?" Peter asked, wanting to divert the conversation.

"Aren't you supposed to be tutoring me?" (Y/N) replied, smirking before letting out a hearty laugh.

It was just a simple laugh, but that didn't stop Peter's breath from catching in his throat and his cheeks to turn a shade redder. His grin doubled in size as he pulled his binder out of his backpack ready to begin.

"Touché," he said, unclipping his vocab packet from the binder rings, "Alright, I'm just going to go down the list and see what you already know. If you don't know it, we'll highlight it, okay?"

"Yep, sounds good," her smile faltered for a moment before continuing, "But y'know I'm not very good at it."

"That's alright, you have to start somewhere. Ready?"

(Y/N) gave a weak smile, "Ready."

"Okay, aburir," Peter said.

"Uh- to bore."

"Correct!"

"I only remember it because when we went over the definitions I said 'me.'"

"Doesn't matter, still correct. Aprender."

"To learn."

"Asistir."

"To assist?"

"Kind of? That's a translation but the one we're using in class is to attend."

"That's so misleading."

"Yeah, I guess. Okay, asistir is highlighted. What about bucear?"

"No clue."

"To scuba dive."

"When- when would I ever use that?" She asked in pure confusion.

"Obviously when you're going scuba diving."

The sentence wasn't meant to be a joke, but it wasn't to make fun of (Y/N) either. Neither of it mattered, because (Y/N) giggled at it anyway. Peter's hands fidgeted and then he kept going down the list of verbs. Moments turned to minutes which turned to hours and before they knew it two and a half hours had gone by and (Y/N) and Peter were still working. They had moved on from translations and moved to conjugation, which Peter found (Y/N) completely understood and was even quicker at conjugations than he was. Now Peter was asking (Y/N) questions in Spanish and (Y/N) was replying in complete sentences using as little English words as possible.

"Okay okay, quién es tu tutor de español?" (Okay, okay, who is your Spanish tutor?)

(Y/N) smiled, "Tu, Peter es mi tutor de español." (You, Peter is my Spanish tutor)

"Muy bueno, qué color es la camiseta de tu?" (Very good, what color is your shirt?)

"Uh- colors colors colors... la camiseta de mi es... the feminine form of red?" (Uh- colors colors colors... my shirt is... the feminine form of red?)

"It starts with an r," Peter hinted.

"Rrrrrr-red?" (Y/N) said, giving him a lopsided smile.

Peter laughed, "R-O."

"Roja!  I knew that!"

"Good job," Peter snickered.

The pair had become very comfortable with one another in the past hours, not afraid to crack a joke or say something dumb. Peter's confidence was growing, as was (Y/N)'s. However, Peter took notice that (Y/N) laughed at all his jokes no matter how dumb, and again Ned's words echoed through his head. Peter was starting to get this major crush on (Y/N), but he didn't know if she felt the same.

"What are you staring at, Peter?" (Y/N) asked, noticing he'd been looking at her a while.

"S-sorry, you just have an eyelash," he lied.

"Oh, where?" She asked, rubbing her fingers under her eyes.

"Here let- let me get it," Peter said, a faint blush on his cheeks as he leaned forward and cupped your cheek as he ran his thumb under your eye.

He pretended to brush it on the ground removing his hand from your face before murmuring, "Got it."

"Thanks, Peter," you smiled at him, cheeks the faintest shade of pink.

"So- uh- more questions then?" Peter squeaked.

"Yeah."

"Quien te gusta?" (Who do you like?)

(Y/N) hesitated a moment before answering, "Me gustan mi familia y my amiga mejor." (I like my family and my best friend)

"Quien te encanta?" (Who do you like (romanically)?)

Peter held his breath.  (Y/N) looked at Peter in his eyes, unable to read his expression.

"Me- me encantan mi familia y mis amigos." (I- I love my family and friends)

"No tienes un novio o una novia?" (You don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend?)

"N-no, no lo tengo." (N-no, I don't have one)

(Y/N)'s heart was beating rapidly and Peter was taking shaky breaths.

"Quieres un novio?" (Do you want a boyfriend?)

"Lo depen- depende." (It depen- depends)

"Quieres a mi estoy te novio?" (Do you want me to be your boyfriend?)

Peter bit his lips with the sudden rush of anxiety.  (Y/N) just stared at him, increasing the feeling of knots in his stomach.  After what seemed like an eternity of the two just staring at each other, (Y/N)'s voice, soft and barely a whisper, made itself clear.

"S-sí."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) began nodding her head quickly while grinning ear to ear.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh okay, um, when are you free? I'm pretty busy myself, but I'm sure I can clear some stuff. Not that I'm trying to make it sound like you don't deserve my time, because you totally do, I just, with all these AP and honors classes I'm pretty booked, not to mention my internship, which is draining as well, but-"

"I'm free Friday, if that works for you. Pick me up at seven? There's this new spy movie I wanna go see, if that works for you," (Y/N) interrupted.

"Yes, yes that- that works out perfectly, yes."

"Great," (Y/N) smiled, picking up her stuff.

"Well, I was supposed to leave an hour ago but if I tell my mom the tutoring ran late I won't be in any trouble. See you tomorrow, Peter."

"Yeah, see you," Peter replied, giving a small wave.

He watched her as she walked out the doors of the library, then the doors of the school which we across the hall before returning to his own stuff and picking it up. He couldn't believe it. He had a date with the cute girl from his Spanish class!

[butwhyduh]

The Inheritance pt 3

Avengers cast horror au

Warning: hint of smut, danger, murder, blood, scary stuff

Word count: 2045

Summary: Tom Holland is informed he's inherited a family estate but not all is what it seems in the manor on the hill.

"Of all the gin joints in all the town's in all the world, she walks in to mine," Douglas said slowly.

"Casablanca, right?" Michelle said smiling as she sat beside him.

"Good ear," Douglas responded. "You know you always knew how to stand out in a crowd."

"You've always been a flirt," she countered taking a drink of her cocktail. He shrugged as sipped his drink.

"Guilty as charged. But tonight I only have eyes for you," He said. "You were the one that got away. I never loved anyone like you."

"Not even Helena, your wife?"

"I loved her, sure. But it wasn't the same. She didn't deserve what I did to her either," Douglas mused.

"Am I dead," Michelle asks bluntly. She picked up an olive an ate it.

"Yes, we are. Trapped in the house. I am sad that you are stuck but I can't deny that I'm glad you are here " Douglas said.

"Can we communicate with the outside? With the living?" Michelle asked. She wasn't scared. It was surreal but she wasn't alone.

"I haven't tried. I don't know what to say to them. My boys. They hate me," he said softly.

"Douglas, they don't hate you. They never understood you. They hated me. They should have hated me. I ruined your marriage," Michelle said placing her hand on his. "Talk to them."

"Won't I scare them?"

"Probably but try it anyways."

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

"I am a physician. I can take a look without disturbing anything if you would allow," the tall man said to the lawyer. His hands held together meekly next to his chest.

Don grasped his nose bridge between 2 fingers. This was morally grey and legally a nightmare. And the rain wouldn't stop.

"Sure, why not," Don said vividly remembering them carrying a body to the cellar. He was pretty sure he was going to lose his licence from this night alone. "Who are you by the way?"

"Oh, pardon me. I am Thomas. Thomas Hiddleton sir. I am Brie's boyfriend," he said adjusting his glasses and shaking Don's hand. He bent by the body and using a pencil, carefully manipulated her slightly. Brie stood behind him chewing her fingernails.

"Who is Brie?" Robert asked with glassy eyes.

"I'm Brie Larson. I rent the carriage house," she said. She seemed to sink into her sweater slightly. "We were going to the kitchen to get candles. And she was there." Brie looked off slightly dazed.

Tom watched in horror as the other Thomas gently pried open Michelle's mouth. Her tongue was a darkening purple color. He sighed.

"Where is the other body?" He asked grimly.

"What does that mean?" Tom asked with his eyes wide.

"She, err, well she was poisoned. That's a key symptom of arsenic poisoning. Works very effectively," he said. "The other body?"

"In the cellar. I guess we put her there too?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes," Don answered. "We have to wake the others to meet in the parlor."

Sebastian and Thomas carried her down to the cellar. Tom took to knocking on the doors. The door to the left opened to Laura and Zoe.

"Hello," Laura said. Tom tried not to look at her low cut gown hastily covered in a soft robe. God, it isn't the time, he told himself.

"Er, there was... just, er- meeting in the parlor," Tom finally got out turning red. Laura looked at him confused. "Your father has a meeting in the parlor."

"Oh, okay. We'll be there shortly," she said smiling and for a second Tom almost forgot about the situation. Jacob pulled him to the next door.

Jacob knocked and the door was swung open to a shirtless Chris Hemsworth. "Hey man, there's a meeting in the parlor. The lawyer sat it up," Jacob said. He received a curt nod and the door closed.

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

Tom sat on a hard leather sofa in front of a roaring fire. Rain pelted the stain glass windows across the room. It was a Madonna of the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus. Ironic, Tom thought, no one in this family is religious.

He stared at the figures as the others talked. As he stared the Virgin began to cry blood. Tom blinked rapidly as he looked.

"What the hell?" He asked standing up. The others looked at him.

"Are you okay man?" Jacob asked.

"She's crying blood! You- you don't see that?" He asked looking back at Jacob. "It's right- it was right there. I swear," he said looking at it closely. The red blood had turned to rain water.

"Do you need to lie down? It's very stressful here," Robert said to his son. His brows furrowed in worry. Tom had never seen a body before.

"No, I- I guess I saw wrong," Tom said unconvinced. "I'm fine."

The others looked on in skepticism. Tom sat back down as they continued talking. The group decided that the best action was to stay in their rooms until morning. Scarlett would be arriving or Brie would go to the old guard tower on the edge of the property to use the radio to call for help.

Tom trudged back to his room. Jacob flopped on the bed after locking the door. The storm thundered loudly and the lights flickered.

"That's what we need," Tom grumbled. "To be stuck in a haunted mansion with a killer with the electricity out."

"Yep. Let's find some candles," Jacob said rummaging through drawers. He found some green candles and lit them.

Tom laid down. His body was exhausted but he was nervous about possibly having another nightmare like before. Finally his body gave out and he fell asleep.

Tom woke to a soft form climbing on his lap. Tom gasped. His eyes blurry in the dark, he squinted. Soft lips and long hair brushed his bare neck. Innocent brown eyes looked up at his face. Laura?

"Hey," He whispered before a finger was placed on his lips. He quieted as she nibbled his earlobe. She grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. Her tongue darted into his mouth and he groaned. Tom's hands ran to her hips as she bit his bottom lip.

Suddenly she pulled away. But her hands found his and she pulled him along with her. Tom easily followed her. His eyes wandering to the shear short night gown. Her erect nipples visible in the dim light. She pulled him through a panel that opened into her room.

That's how she got in my room, Tom thought. His questions silenced as she pushed him against a wall and sucked a dark hickie on his collar bone. Her hands roamed his back and Tom whimpered. She pulled away again and pulled his hands to her window. She opened the window climbed out on the roof. The rain turned her gown into a second skin that Tom couldn't look away from if he tried.

He followed her out. Rain pounded them both but they ignored it as they kissed. Her hands wandered across his body and he gripped her hips tightly. He pulled the thin drenched material up her waist.

Suddenly a huge thunder clapped and lightening blinded Tom. He clamped his eyes closed and when he opened them, he was alone on the edge of the roof.

Laura stood in the window. Her face full of concern and her skin completely dry. She was yelling something Tom couldn't hear.

"Please don't jump. Come back inside. Please don't," she gasped. Her body trembled in fear. Tom looked at the ledge and then at her in confusion. Why would he jump?

"Please, I know I don't know you but I need you to come inside. It would kill me if something happened to you," she pleaded.

"I'm not going to jump," Tom said. He slowly walked back to the window and in the room. She hugged him tightly.

"Oh, thank God. I was so scared," Laura said. "Zoe went to the bathroom and I wake up to you opening the window to climb out."

"What? You were out there with me," Tom said bewildered.

"Me?? I'm terrified of heights. I would never climb out there," she said pulling away shocked.

"You pulled me to the balcony," Tom insisted. Laura shook her head.

"What's going on?" Zoe said walking in the room. Laura in her now wet nightgown and Tom in his shorts shivering and dripping water everywhere.

"He sleepwalked to the roof and almost fell off. I thought he was going to jump," Laura said. Tom shivered violently. Zoe shut the window.

"Let's get him some dry clothing," Zoe suggested.

"I'll go back to my room," he said shakily.

"You need a bath. You are really cold," Laura said touching his arm. Tom nodded as he shivered. He walked across the room and through the panel in the wall to his room. Jacob woke to the movement.

"What's going on," he asked sitting up.

"Tom almost sleepwalked off the roof. Go take a bath," Zoe said. Tom shivered and grabbed clean clothes from his luggage.

He walked into the bathroom down the hall. Black and white checkered marble floor complimented the ivory tub and gold and red stain glass window. It had a pattern of leaves falling from a tree. Tom was grateful that it wasn't a figure that could appear to cry blood.

He turned on the water and lit a candle as the lights flickered again. He climbed in the steamy bath. He couldn't remember the last time he took a proper bath. His muscles finally stopped shaking and he relaxed. His mind wandering to the dream. Laura had seemed so real. How had he known where the panel was?

He stopped thinking of that. Tom's brain hurt. He hadn't slept in hours and the 2 times he had, Tom had had a nightmare and sleepwalked. Tom closed his eyes and let the warm water and sound of the rain lull him. His breathing slowed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Tom woke to the sound of water pouring. He attempted to fall back to sleep but the pouring continued. He opened eyes to see red. The water he was in was pouring over the edge of the tub and was bright red.

Tom quickly sat up. He raised his hands and felt that it was thicker than water. Blood. Tom felt his body in a tub of blood. He quickly jumped from the tub and almost face planted on the floor. The vicious fluid slimy on the smooth tile. Tom yelped as he saw his bloody body. He quickly turned off the faucet that was pouring out more blood.

"Hey, are you okay man?" Jacob asked at the door. Tom quickly opened it for him. "Woah, dude. Put on some clothing."

"I think there is a bigger problem," Tom said hopping he wasn't losing his mind.

"Do you really want me to tell you what's wrong with your body?" Jacob deadpanned. Tom wrinkled his nose and looked at Jacob in confusion. He raised his arms in front of him.

"The blood. Bro, you don't see the blood?" Tom asked bewildered.

"I have no idea what you are talking about and honestly I'm worried about your mental health at this point," Jacob said slowly as though Tom might explode with loud noises.

Tom looked at his body. The blood had disappeared. Tom was naked, water was all over the floor, and he was dripping wet. "What is going on?" He asked exasperated.

"I don't know. Maybe I should ask your dad? Or your uncle that sounds like a doctor?" Jacob suggested.

"I don't know about that, mate. He's a stranger and that would be wei-"

"Maybe if you kept your dick to yourself this wouldn't happen! I can't wait until this weekend is over and I can leave. You are disgusting," Christopher roared in the hallway.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything," Chris pleaded. His arms raised in surrender to his husband.

"And that's why I saw you giving it to Sebastian," Christopher quipped with his arms crossed.

"What??" Chris asked. His eyes as big as dinner plates. "I would never sleep with your brother. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Permanent tag list

@meg-holland @smexylemony @flashgunashton @calum-hoodwinked-me @laucontrerasv @courtneychicken @beeloverqueen @imahoformarvel @joyfullyje @jiminiecricketz

Avengers inheritance

@fortheluvofgods @somethingabouttheway @marvel-my-ass @azurlight @swagaliciouspupper @ollierae @redstarstan @goodolbucky @imjustafriendlynobody @theonebigfan @yougaveyourgametokevin @thequirkybookaholic

[mysnarkyslytherinsecret]

Okay so I just got this imagine idea. Basically it would take place during a ball and it features Severus and the person who he has feelings for(she likes him back,neither have had the courage to speak up yet)somehow they end up dancing toghether. While she is distracted Severus glances at her and whispers "Beautiful" at the sight of her, when she turns to ask what he said he covers it up by saying that he meant the music.I haven't thought of an ending but please write it!Doesn't have to be long

Severus Snape stood at the corner of the ballroom like a particularly ill-tempered shadow, practically itching to leave.

Truth be told, he hated Ministry functions- all these disgustingly smug Ministry bastards in their disgustingly expensive robes rubbing shoulders with others like themselves gave Severus the worst sort of indigestion.  Though he had no appetite, he was, in fact, holding an empty champagne flute that he’d unceremoniously emptied at least three times in a nearby bush simply to avoid having to be asked for the fifty-millionth time if he’d like some hors d’oeuvres by one of the over-eager Ministry house elves.

He sighed heavily when the champagne flute refilled itself as though by magic and glared at the nearby house elf, who’d frozen mid-snap.  With a slight wave of his hand, he dismissed the elf, who looked as though she was about to start boxing her own ears right then and there for displeasing him before disappearing with a sharp pop. Severus took a step to try and explain that this wasn’t necessary, but then he realized that since it hadn’t worked on all of the house elves he’d grumbled at over the years at Hogwarts for trying to be helpful and making things worse, it probably wouldn’t work on her either.

The only reason he was at the stupid event was because Minister Shacklebolt (damn him!) had told him that the galleons he’d be receiving along with whatever the bloody award of the week was this time were contingent on his attendance.  He looked up at the ornate clock near the far side of the ballroom and sighed.  There were still forty-five minutes until midnight, and Severus only had eyes for the Ministry’s clocktower. Once it chimed even a single time, he could finally disappear from this godforsaken place like a sour-faced Cinderella.

He snorted into the champagne flute at the thought, pretending to be in the middle of drinking it to avoid yet another overstuffed Ministry official who looked like he was about to come over and talk to him.  He’d worn his blackest, least-ornate robes, the buttons fastened all the way up to his chin like armor against being considered sociable or in any way conspicuous. He looked over at the other recipients, which were basically a bunch of the members of Dumbledore’s Army (the wankers, he thought, all dressed up like they’re playing at being like their elders), and some of the other professors from Hogwarts. Minerva had already saved him a couple of times from nosy gawkers, but she was in the middle of dancing with Phineas Fickleboro, the esteemed Transfiguration researcher from Istanbul, and Severus knew that she wouldn’t be able to save him if someone happened to find him in his concealed space behind the fat marble pillar in the shadows of the ballroom.

A buzzing near his ear made him flinch and he swatted at it instinctively. Unfortunately, he forgot that he was holding the champagne flute with champagne still in it, and ended up pouring it all over the place.

There was a loud thump as something heavy hit the ground and a shrill squeal assaulted his ears, making him wince.

“HEY! What the feck do you think yer doin’?!”

Severus knew that voice. He turned his head slowly, as if this would change the truth of the person who lay sprawled out on her back, her robes drenched in champagne.

“Miz Skeeter. Apparently, you have taken my previous instructions to buzz off rather literally,” Severus said, stepping back and glowering at her. “Good evening.”

He swept off, hoping that he looked like he was stomping away in fury instead of fleeing.  Skeeter had been merciless since his survival had come to light- following him everywhere during the day and having Prophet interns tail him at night. The damn woman was a pest who was obsessed with writing unflattering articles about him. Normally, Severus wouldn’t care.

He’d been called worse by friends, after all, and Skeeter was no friend.

However, he was also in the process of having several new potions patented, and plans to open his own owl-post apothecary, so he was doing his best to avoid as much negative press as was possible.

“Mr. Snape! A word, please!”

Skeeter had apparently found her wand and cleaned herself off, for she was following after him at a frightening speed. Severus turned away from her to find that he was mere inches from the dance floor.  A murmur of interest filled the room and Severus felt his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment, but at the next bellow from the harridan behind him, he forced himself into the crowd of dancers.

Suddenly, someone had taken his hand and he felt himself spun around to find Minerva’s laughing eyes and cat-ate-the-canary smile as she led him away from the livid journalist.

“Thank Merlin,” he said, before he could compose himself, “I was beginning to think that bitch was going to cast a Permanent Sticking Charm.”

Minerva chuckled. “Well I knew that it would take a fairly extreme situation to get you out into the light of day-”

“It’s half an hour to midnight, Minerva,” Severus replied, unimpressed.

“Be that as it may, it’s good to see that you’re finally putting all those years of teaching Slytherin House to dance to practice, even if it’s little old me,” Minerva continued, twirling him out and then bending him backwards in her arms.

“You do know that I’m supposed to be the lead,” Severus said, once she pulled him up out of the dip, his cheeks going slightly pink.

“You’re three decades too young to lead me anywhere, and you know it,” Minerva chuckled as they two-stepped towards the other side of the dance floor.  They stopped and clapped politely with the rest of the crowd as the music ended. “Now, then, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

Severus was about to reply when he felt a finger tap gently on his shoulder and he spun abruptly, his eyes widening with surprise.  There, before him, stood a young woman who looked rather familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Her hair was short, though ringlets of chestnut brown hair curled around her face in a wild sort of way that filled Severus with a strange heady sensation in his belly. She wasn’t heavily powdered or garishly dressed. There was a simplistic, natural air to her that he instantly envied, but she carried herself with a power and confidence that made her look older than her years. Her eyes were golden and seemed to shimmer in the light of the many candles floating above them.

Instantly, Severus found himself transported back to his stammering, awkward, teenaged self.

“Severus, you’re gawking,” Minerva politely whispered to him, and he shut his mouth, which had been hanging open and making him look (he was certain) like a total moron.

“Good evening, Minerva, Mr. Snape,” the woman said, curtseying slightly

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” Minerva said kindly.

“Please, I’ve told you a hundred times that it’s fine to call me Hermione. I feel like a first year when you call me that!” Hermione laughed, and Severus noticed that her teeth were even and white.

His mind flashed back to his cruel words about her teeth, before, and he hated himself just a bit more than he usually did.

“Old habits die hard, Miss Granger, but I’m sure that there are others who can be more easily persuaded to change their ways,” Minerva replied, a very peculiar smile playing across her lips as she looked at Severus and then looked at Hermione and back to Severus again.

“What?” Severus asked pointedly, glaring at Minerva, who waved mildly and melted away into the crowd, leaving him behind before he could stop her.

“I’m didn’t wish to bother you, Mr. Snape,” Hermione said, turning her bright eyes on him and completely stopping his scowl in its tracks, “but I saw you and I just needed to thank you to your face. You saved my life, you see…and-”

They both abruptly turned towards a horrible screeching sound.

“THERE YOU ARE, SNAPE! THOUGHT YOU COULD ESCAPE, DID YOU!?” screamed Rita Skeeter.

Hermione turned away from him for a moment, placing her body squarely between him and the practically rabid journalist, her hands moving up to rest on her hips.  

And then, an odd thing happened.  

Though Hermione hadn’t made a sound, Rita’s expression went from full of fury to bug-eyed with fear.  Slowly, she backed away and then, when she’d reached the nearest doorway, she turned and practically ran out of the building as fast as her legs could carry her.

Hermione turned back, her face still midway between the intimidating murder-scowl she’d obviously been aiming at Skeeter, but when she finally looked up at him, her face had returned to the almost radiant picture of joy. She had protected him, but not in a way that he’d needed to ask for like some groveling, simpering fool. It filled him with a dangerous, pleasurable warmth and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out, before he could keep the thought from escaping his lips, and then, “Shite! I mean…the music is…er…beautiful…and…er…I was just going-”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment and he stared up at the cursed clock, which seemed to have only moved a minute or two past the half-hour mark.  Damned thing. Hermione laughed, but it wasn’t a derisive sound. On the contrary, she sounded so merry that he almost joined in.

This was it. He must be going mad.

She held out her hand. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have this dance.  These Ministry functions are so boring, but it looks like you know what you’re doing, and besides, it will pass the time so that we can both get back to our research.”

This got Severus’ attention as he took her hand, leading her back onto the floor as the band began to play a downtempo waltz. “Research?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, mirroring his lead fairly well, though she was obviously about as rusty as he was. “I’m doing research on Ancient Runes and their usage in perpetually renewable charm energy. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of money in the field even though it’ll be dead useful once I finally get it up and running. Hence my attendance at this pompous affair.”

Severus nearly fell over. It had not occurred to him that anyone other than himself (Minerva, perhaps, but she always enjoyed seeing everyone and was far more social than he would ever be) would feel similarly, much less need the money for ostensibly interesting (although complicated) research projects.  Thinking about his own research made him realize something important.

“So…er…,you mentioned that I…helped you,” Severus said awkwardly. “What, exactly might it have been?”

Hermione smiled mysteriously and Severus felt his heart skip a beat. “I’ll show you if you’d like…when we’re done with this dance.”

Severus swallowed a mysterious lump that seemed to have appeared in his throat, and he willed his palms not to sweat.  The way that she said those words was both seductive and innocuous. It was maddening not to know which it was.

And though he was trying very hard to tell himself otherwise, Severus really, really wanted to find out.

The song ended as soon as the clock struck midnight and Severus blinked rapidly, wondering where the time had gone.

“Thank you, Mr. Snape,” Hermione said, curtsying slightly.

“It’s Severus actually,” he heard himself say.

“Well, then,  Severus-”

“Oi! Mione!”  The slurred speech came from their left and they both turned to see a stumbling, drunken Ron Weasley being held barely upright by a sheepish looking Harry Potter. “G-weh from th’ git thar.”

Hermione let out a huff of exasperation and stomped over to Harry.

“He got into a drinking contest with a centaur,” Harry explained. “She won.”

“She godda mostest perdy trac’s o’ land,” Ron hiccuped. “I wanna ride ‘er like a pony. Coconuts ‘n everythin’…giddyap!”

“I shall forever regret taking him to see Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” Harry groaned. “Mind lending me a hand? I’m about ready to hex him.”

“C’mon, Ron, let’s get you home before you hurt yourself again,” Hermione sighed, her expression beyond exasperated.

It wasn’t until after she’d disappeared into one of the giant floo fireplaces with her two friends that Severus finally realized that he still did not know what she had meant to show him.

Or if he’d ever see her again.

“Come on, Severus,” Minerva said, clapping him heartily on the shoulder, “you’re free to leave now, or did you forget while you were mooning like a lovesick teenager over your dance partner?”

“I was not mooning!” Severus snapped, pulling away from her in a huff.

“Your lovesick expression says otherwise!” Minerva called out from behind him.

“She’s far too young!” Severus shot back. “It’d be disgusting.”

“You know what’s disgusting?” Minerva asked. “People who hide behind faulty logic to avoid their feelings.”

“HAH!” Snape practically yelled. “Perhaps I prefer logic! Logic is safe. Feelings are for dunderheads!”

He finally reached the border of the wards and Apparated away, his ears still burning with embarrassment as they picked up the sound of Minerva’s knowing laughter echoing through the cold night air after him.

“You didn’t have to stay for the after-party to get the monetary incentive for this award,” Minerva mused, handing him a glass of sparkling cider. “And yet here you are. And in some rather new-looking and well-tailored attire at that. Curiouser and curiouser.”

“You do know what they say about curiosity and cats, MInerva,” Severus replied with a sniff.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Minerva replied. “You’re merely feeling a bit twitterpated, is all. It’s not the end of the world.”

“That still remains to be seen,” Severus quipped back dryly.

A rather handsome wizard appeared, bowed, and reached out his hand. “May I have this dance, Mademoiselle McGonagall?” he said, his voice thick with a prominent accent.

“Oh, it’s been years since I’ve been a Mademoiselle,” Minerva giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for your Miss Granger on the dance floor, Severus.”

“She is not my Miss Granger,” Severus growled irritably.

“That remains to be seen,” Minerva replied with a wave as she was whisked off to the dance floor.

In the end, though he diligently searched for her, she found him again. He turned, trying to force himself not to grin like an idiot when he saw her standing there, her eyes sparkling.

“Hello again,” she said. “Are you…okay?”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“You look sort of like you’re in…pain?” She tilted her head slightly and he had to bite his tongue not to make an embarrassing squeeing noise.

“Oh, I’m quite all right,” he managed to grit out, “You know how it is.”

“Actually, I’m glad that we both decided to stick around. I’d hoped we could have another dance.” Hermione blushed and Severus tried to avoid locking his knees. It would not do to keel over in front of her, after all.

“Indeed,” he replied, taking her hand and trying to mirror what he’d seen other wizards with proper etiquette training do.

“I must  admit, I am looking forward to it,” he said, twirling her around gently, not daring to look her in the eye when he said it.

“Oh?” she asked.

“The…thing you mentioned…that I helped you with?” Severus wanted to disappear into his shoes. He’d been practically obsessing about it for the past few weeks, but he’d had very little luck guessing at what it could be.  But what if he was overreacting? Blowing things out of proportion? Hermione seemed to be humoring him with her smile and her sparkling eyes, but what if she-

“Well, while we’re admitting things, I was a bit intimidated by you at first,” Hermione admitted, cutting off Severus’ frenzied thoughts instantly, “but now that I’m talking to you, I feel rather silly about having been afraid.  You’ve definitely changed for the better, Severus.”

Severus could feel his cheeks flushing at the sound of his name. Normally, he disliked how harsh his first name sounded when spoken aloud, but Hermione made it sound beautiful.

“What about your two male cohorts?” Severus asked, trying not to let any overt malice enter his voice. He did not want them to interrupt yet again.

He’d seen the headlines earlier that year regarding the big, public fight that had ensued after Weasley had asked for Hermione’s hand in marriage, and she’d refused politely, citing her desire to continue her studies before settling down. Potter, on the other hand, was determined to force Severus to join his happy family, much to Severus’ dismay.  He sent letters, cards, and even tried to visit his house from time to time.  Severus had become very skilled in the art of pretending that he was never home.

“Oh, they’ve been up in the VIP room for ages,” Hermione replied, gesturing to the stairs that wound up on the side of the room and opened up into some sort of second floor atrium with charmed glass windows that shone brightly with magic so that the people on the other side could see out but no one could see in. “That’s where all the good food is, and they don’t make you dance.”

Severus glared up at the windows, as though he’d be able to see into them if he did so, but they remained opaque.

“Harry has a hard time going out in public without either being assaulted by rabid fans or attacked by people who want to be the one to kill the guy who killed Voldemort.”

Severus winced at the name out of habit though his arm did not actually hurt when she said it, thanks to his patented Cursed Wound Salve.  He’d begun work on it immediately after he’d realized that his cursed snake bite and the faded Dark Mark still had some residual power left in them that left him with debilitating pain, especially when the weather changed.  It had taken him almost a year to perfect it, but after he had finally erased the lingering reminders of the two biggest mistakes of his life, he’d slept soundly ever since.

The song finally ended, and he found himself being led easily by Hermione out to a balcony where they could be alone.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione assured him, “This won’t take long.”

She grinned at him conspiratorily, and before he knew it, he found himself smiling back at her.  This revelation made him blush, which made him feel increasingly out of his depth. Then, she pulled out her wand, warding the doors shut and turning back to him.

Instinctively, Severus felt his fingers itch to curl around his own wand. He didn’t like being backed into a corner without an escape route, even though his bloody heart was shouting at him to shut up and stop being so goddamn suspicious all the time.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, noticing his discomfort, “but it was necessary…I don’t want anyone to disturb us.”

She pulled her arm out of her sleeve until she was bare up to her shoulder and showed him the clean flesh on her upper arm. “During the war, Bellatrix tortured me and carved a word with a cursed knife right here, but thanks to your salve, it’s completely gone.  It…it really helped me heal in more than one way.”

Severus immediately felt guilty about all of the amorous thoughts that he’d been harboring.  Here he was, looking at her like a regular letch and she had just wanted to show him how well his potion had worked.

Goddamnit.

“You can touch it if you’d like,” Hermione said, indicating the soft skin on the side of her upper arm.  The way she looked at him was pure sex, and Severus had to stomp on his other foot with one dragonhide boot to refrain from doing as she’d said.

“Actually, I would like to cast a diagnostic spell, if you would let me,” he replied thickly, pulling out his wand and waiting for her reply. The truth was, he didn’t trust himself to touch her. It was too dangerous. It was already dangerous enough to look.

She nodded.

He cast the spell, moving his wand over the length of her arm, marveling at how there was not even a trace of the curse left over. Without thinking, he gently placed his fingers against her skin and ran them over the space she’d indicated earlier.  Her skin was soft and whole.  

“Beautiful,” he breathed again, this time not bothering to apologize.  It was, after all, true.

Hermione let out a soft noise, something between a purr and a sound of agreement. When Severus looked up at her face, he noticed that her pupils had blown wide as she watched his fingers sliding against her supple, silken skin.

“Also,” she said shyly, “I used it on this one as well, and it…well…I hope you don’t mind me showing you…”

This time, she seemed to hesitate before moving to unbutton her plain brown robes down to her waist. Pulling them to the side enough to show a flash of her bra and her sun-kissed skin underneath, Severus inhaled sharply.

The massive scar- the one he’d helped Madam Pomfrey heal after that horrible night in the Hall of Prophecies- it was-

“Gone,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. His fingers reached out as though of their own accord, to touch the space between her breastbone where the thick cord of cursed scar tissue had been. This time, as he traced his fingers against the softness of her skin, she shivered with delight and made a soft panting noise, obviously enjoying his attention.

“You have to understand,” Hermione gasped, “I wanted to write you a letter and leave it at that, but I couldn’t…I had to…I had to see you…let you…”

“Hermione,” Severus bent forward, his breath clouding against Hermione’s cheek, “I…I do not think it is wise for me to keep doing this.”

She angled her head up so that his breath came hot against her lips, which were as flushed as her cheeks. “And why is that, Severus?”

He shivered to hear his name said in such a way. “Because…I…I want to…I…”

Hermione nudged her way upwards until her lips nearly touched his. “But what if I told you that I wanted you to?”

Severus was inordinately glad for the ward on the door behind them as he firmly pressed his lips against her with a moan loud enough to warrant casting a Muffliato for good measure.  Her fingers curled around his hips gently and he sagged into her, letting her pull him against her with a sigh of need. Trailing kisses down her neck, her ran his tongue against the naked skin of her arm in the place that Bellatrix had marked so cruelly.   Hermione kissed him everywhere she could reach as he kissed her, holding her tightly as he did so.  There was something about her that had drawn him in from the beginning, but here, now, it was a lesson in holding back against his overwhelming desire to take her then and there.

Her fingers were sliding down the slight gap around the waist of his trousers and he moaned loudly into her mouth at the pleasure this brought him. Even with his long, imposing robes, he always wore trousers underneath, but at the moment, he was very much regretting having them.

“If we don’t stop soon…it might go too far,” he panted, as she began undoing the buttons at his neck.

“I don’t care,” she replied ardently, “This may be my only chance to see you…to properly…to let you know that I…”

She kissed him firmly and pulled away with great effort. “I’ve read all of your papers. They’re brilliant. Your potion for cursed scars saved my body, but it also saved my mind. I was having flashbacks, nightmares, pain…it was hell.  Anyone who can make such an amazing item and sell it at such a modest fee is someone I can’t help but feel for, especially in light of…everything.”

“Well, then, let me prepare a rebuttal,” Severus replied. “You are gorgeous.” He kissed her nose. “You are kind.” He kissed her cheeks. “You are smart.” He kissed her lips. “And you are a force to be reckoned with.” He kissed her chest above where her heart lay. “I came to this damnable function because I needed to see you again. I would be an utter dunderhead if I walked away from all of that in the name of propriety.”

With that, he kissed her mouth deeply, his mind going blank with pleasure.   Behind them, the clock began to strike midnight and Hermione mewled with delight underneath him.

“Shall we?” Severus asked, pulling away, his wand at the ready.

“Oh, yes, please,” Hermione replied, her eyes half lidded.

His heart hammered in his chest as he grabbed her tightly around the waist and they Disapparated just as the last stroke of midnight faded away.